To Mourn a Race

            Kis, much like everything else, become familiar over time.  Though masses meld together and some signatures are as bland as rock, others are simply unforgettable.  I felt Kakarotto alive out there, weak though he was. 

            Other, stronger presences floated across the planet.  One I recognized, it’s power would have eclipsed Kakarotto’s had his ki not been seared into my memory.  And a black weight hung in the void, space seeming to magnify a ki my mind associated with cold, lascivious intent, striking a dark chord within me.  It was a presence I knew before I knew kis.

            I wrapped my tail around my waist and stood. 

            I gave the boy his grief.  This was a twisted mockery of his wish, I knew.  Kakarotto was here, though I doubt he’d had the presence of mind to sense it.  But this wasn’t at all what he’d wanted.  We’d be saving Kakarotto, yes, but the boy wouldn’t have his father back. 

            I kept my gaze on the horizon as Trunks laid a hand on Gohan’s back, watching them only out of my peripheral.  I wouldn’t give the boy my pity.  I couldn’t understand how, on any scale, my wish could take precedence over the boys’.  I settled my gaze on them then.  Or how they could possibly have gotten anything from this.

            This must have been what the little Namek meant, the mistake he’d made.  I shook my head.  Blame made little sense, farside of a wish.  And I’d been blaming plenty, long enough.

            I turned and approached the hunched form, Trunks’ eyes were narrowed, accusing as I knelt before Kakarotto’s son.

            I sensed we had little time.  That presence in space approached far too quickly.  The Seeds wouldn’t have handed this to me on a silver platter.  There was still work to be done and we were weak from what the artifact had taken from us.  I could feel my own strength rising, but time dictated I’d have to ascend to defeat the evil coming for us.

            “There are people to save here.”

            The boy’s eyes were Saiyan.  Even through tears his anger ripped through me, eyes windows to a burning soul.  But he ducked his head, body shaking as he swallowed his pain, and the eyes that met me next were shuttered.  Flashing only angry black.

            I nodded, standing and facing the incoming threat, “We’ll find an answer.” I added- stoking the anger we’d most likely need, “Tears aren’t it.” I heard Trunks growl low then, but after a second they stood and waited for my explanation.

             “You will find Broly.” I turned to Trunks, “And Paragus.  Treat them and control them.” I waited until my meaning came clear.  It took only a moment before he stopped blinking and nodded, his eyes unfocusing as he searched for the appropriate ki.  He would find it.  It flared just a little too brightly against the paleness of the masses.

            Gohan’s eyes were dulling, the strength of his anger waning.  I shook my head.  In his grief he was Human and I needed the Saiyan in him.

            “Wait here then.” I focused my ki to hovering, “You will come when I call.” And that was less of a statement than I wanted.  I took off quickly, suppressing my ki as I flew to one of the only familiar cities on the planet.  Toward one of the few ki I recognized.

            I had an audience long overdue.

            I stood until father was out of sight.  He must have given this a good deal of thought, what he’d change, what he’d fix given the chance.  This was his wish, I knew.

            “You should go,” Gohan had ducked his head again and ran a hand through his hair, pausing to block his face from view, “He has a plan.”

            I put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly, hoping to give him some measure of comfort, but he stiffened under my hand, letting out a slow, hitched sigh.

            “What did you want Trunks?”

            I swallowed.  Gohan had always been smart.  He knew what I wished for.  It was a reminder, not a question. I let my hand slide off his shoulder and we stood in silence.

            “The Dragon Balls will get us back.” It came out as a whisper, less solid than I intended.

            Gohan let out a laugh too short for mirth, “And then what, Trunks?” He wiped his eyes and looked straight ahead, his voice soft as well, “This was ‘Plan C’, remember?”  And there were no other options.  I had nothing else to say.

            “Come with me.” I couldn’t leave him alone, “Broly will be a handful.” I brought my feet up, hovering, and held my hand out to him.

            He took it and didn’t let go.

            I kept my ki as low as possible for someone flying and took us up over the clouds.  Broly’s signature wavered occasionally, so I kept my focus on that instead of the feel of Gohan’s palm against mine.

            Father’s plan seemingly called for stealth, he’d all but dropped from my radar half a mile out, so I edged the few cities we came across.  Occasionally Gohan’s fingers would spasm and, though I avoided looking back at him, I tried to give him a reassuring squeeze in return.  The cities became more frequent and more populous, taller buildings scraping through cloud cover and a few low-power patrols sweeping the air below.

            I made a careful, high-altitude flyover of the city Broly’s fluctuating signature rested in before dropping down outside what looked like a run-down section.  I knew from experience people’s curiousity tended to be inversely proportional to their problems. 

            Gohan’s hand slipped away.  I glanced at him but his eyes were focused forward, darting over the edge of the slum as he leaned out from behind the abandoned lean-to we shielded ourselves from prying eyes with.  I leaned out the other side for a look.

            “We’ll have to walk.”  I nodded in agreement despite the barrier between us.  It seemed only patrols, armoured and with scouters, flew above street level

            “Your hair...” I raised an eyebrow and looked to him, “It’s a weird colour.” He finally blurted out.  I felt my lips press to a line.  I certainly didn’t have the Saiyan spikes.  I watched the few people walking the outer streets.  I could try to pass as one of the few aliens but, my eyes caught on movement in my peripheral, my tail would raise questions.  Gohan’s eyes also locked onto the oddly-furred appendage.  The intense scrutiny brought heat to my cheeks and I wrapped the unruly thing around my waist.

            “It’s odd to have them back,” He was twisted sideways to look at his own black-brown tail, swirling it in spirals, “I barely remember mine.” A barely-there grin tugged at his lips.

            I supposed that was how the Seeds had interpreted my ‘to be whole’.  I hadn’t even thought about tails.  Out loud I said, “I never remember having one.” And it felt about as odd as growing a third arm.  The thing twitched and moved and- Gah!- itched.  I rubbed the tip against my belt, which took an inordinate amount of concentration, but felt pretty satisfying.

            I didn’t even realize my eyes had slid shut until I heard Gohan snickering at me and I had to pry them open to shoot him a glare.  I smiled after a moment though, glad enough to bring even that much emotion back to his face.

            “You have a sash or something?  I’ll cover it up.  Something for my hair too.”

            He nodded and there was a weird shift in ki where he materialized a cape.  I’d seen him do it before but still hadn’t gotten around to actually asking how it was done.  He ripped off a few strips and handed them to me.  After a minute of adjusting for comfort and coverage we set off at a not-too-casual pace toward the city.

            The palace was larger than I remembered, sprawling out to occupy nearly a fourth of the city I floated above. 

            I could make this easy or I could do it right.  I had the time, I mused.  And it had been my inclination.  I studied the outer rim of the palace.  This part I hadn’t planned for in nearly so much detail.  I wanted the element of surprise, but...  It had been so long.

            I lowered myself to an empty alleyway below, wrinkling my nose when I realized just why it was empty.  I hovered to the end, careful not to soil my boots.

            I’d do this the right way.  I stepped out and let myself get caught in the current of bodies, people rushing to do who-knows-what.  I let them buffet me from this stall to that, even paused at one selling a mildly interesting set of armour, but always steered myself in the direction of the palace.

            I realized their stares after only a minute.  It wasn’t obvious, or a great number of them, but it seemed in passing that every guard- amour blazoned with their rank under the King instead of Frieza- took pause at my appearance.  I’d wanted to take the casual approach, but drawing this much attention was unwarranted and a bit irritating.  I slipped into an alleyway and jumped a wall. Pausing to hear if they followed.

            “J’you see where he went?”

            “You really wanna follow him?”

            “The King was clear how he felt ‘bout royalty outta the palace...”

            I frowned at that, wondering what my father was thinking.

            “He wasn’t... ya’no... they always have crests and stuff... and his armour looked old.”

            I let a smirk tilt my lips at the sigh that followed that.  Try working a decade or two with Nappa.

            Enough of the sights then.  I darted through a series of alleyways before taking off toward the palace entrance.  And freaking the hell out of the men standing guard there.  I smirked as they scrambled.

            “Who-”

            “Fore-Prince Vega,” I snapped, baring a bit more teeth than necessary, “I’ve a standing invitation.”  I looked enough like that idiot anyway, might as well take advantage.

            “Wou-”

            “Yes, I need an audience.” The fewer questions these morons got a chance to ask the better, “Inform the King I’ve news about his next little rendezvous with the Emperor.”  I enjoyed the moment of panic all of them experienced at that announcement.

            I waited the requisite three seconds before pretending to lose my patience, they were still stuttering by the end of my internal count.  I nearly made me grin, “Fine!  You!”  I pointed to the highest-ranked, “Escort me.” I left no room for argument as I walked toward the large doors that breached the outer wall of the palace.

            I was enjoying this charade but Frieza was fast approaching.  Father was sure to swing his plan into motion the moment that vile alien hit orbit.

            I would be taking no chances with this.

            Run down as the section looked from the outside it turned out to be pretty populated.  The architecture was rounder and population oddly homogeneous but still reminded me of busier marketplaces on earth.  I felt a twist of almost-homesickness when it brought up a recent memory of my own reconstructing home world.

            Suddenly Gohan tugged me off down an alleyway, away from Broly’s ki.  When I raised an eyebrow in question Gohan answered simply, “Fewer people this way.”

            “We’ll look more suspicious.”

            “We’re already too suspicious.” Gohan made a small gesture with his head as he turned a corner, indicating three Saiyans at the head of the alleyway we’d darted into.  They followed at a casual pace but their walk was predatory.

            I nodded forward and grabbed Gohan’s shoulder.  We disappeared just before they rounded the corner.

            I wrinkled my nose at the stench and Gohan tensed under my hand, gagging.  The place was a garbage heap.  I supposed that made sense.  Gohan held his nose while looking around.  Broly’s ki flickered here somewhere.

            We hovered over the trash, flipping some of the larger items and checking beneath.  I was distracted by a brief flicker of father’s ki deeper in the city, looking up my eyes caught on something at the far end of the alley.  It had to be hair.

            Paragus was lying face down next to his son.  There was way too much blood.

            “Gohan!” He was by my side in an instant.

            I scooped up the disturbingly still child, “Get us out of here.” I put a hand on his shoulder as he knelt to lay his own on Paragus.

            We were back beside the lean-to, a rolling cloud of dust hitting us just as we took our next breath.  My coughing jolted Broly awake, who let out a pathetic half-cry before going silent.

            I dug in my pockets for my capsule case, “Food. Car. Bike. House...” The very last was a medi-kit, you could see what mother thought our priorities were.  I clicked it and a white container the size of a suitcase popped out. I supposed mom had packed the thing with Saiyans in mind.

            “Where’s Paragus hurt?”

            Broly’s blood was oozing over my arm from a knife wound in the back.  I grit my teeth, digging one-handed through the pack.  Gohan didn’t answer, but grabbed a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of gauze.  I found a bottle of water and a little bag of non-descript beans.

            “Are you sure? Oh.” His lips thinned when he saw the still bleeding hole.

            I gently drew Broly’s bottom lip down with a thumb, frowning at the baby’s gums, “You see any pipettes?”  Gohan shook his head, eyeing the matching wound in Paragus’ back.

            I shrugged a shoulder, taking a small gulp of water and biting half a bean.  Carefully opening Broly’s mouth I tried to only let a little of the liquid pour from mine into his.  He coughed, blinking his eyes open.  I ducked my head, trying again, this time he swallowed.  I took another gulp of water and chewed the other half of he bean.  He quickly drank the rest, grabbing at my hair with two little fists.

            I felt along his back with one hand while trying to pry away the fingers with my other.  I winced.  His strength had certainly returned.  There was a scar on his back, just above his tail, where the knife wound had been.  I let out a relieved sigh when the infant let go and rolled in my arms to press his face in my shirt.

            I could hear Gohan grinding his teeth.

            Paragus was bleeding a lot.

            “Broly’s fine?” The question was terse.

            “Paragus?” I questioned in turn.

            “Bleeding.”

            The gauze was soaked red

            “Internal. Give me the bag.”  I handed it over along with the water.  Gohan gingerly turned the man on his back.

            “Paragus!” Gohan practically yelled in the man’s face, tapping him on the cheek with a hand.  The man didn’t respond.  Gohan poured some of the water into his hand, opening the man’s mouth with the other.  The man didn’t respond to the trickle of water.

            “CPR.  Was he even breathing when we got there?”

            Gohan ducked a head to the other’s chest, “He wouldn’t bleed so much if...” the other trailed off as he tried to get a response.  Broly gurgled in my arms, blinking up at me with a little smile.

            “He said Broly saved him...” I sat silent after that, watching Gohan get frustrated over the man’s body.

            He sat back after a while, “How do you think Broly did it?” He seemed resigned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  I shook my head.  The baby cooed against my chest.  He wasn’t telling.

            We sat in silence for quite a while.

            I wrapped Broly in the bit of cape I’d been using to cover my hair when the infant began to shiver.

            He fell asleep just as my father’s ki spiked.

            It took a moment for them to cower, shock locking their legs in place.  All but the King fell to their knees at the sudden sight of a Legend.  I felt the boys’ ki spike just moments before appearing behind me.

            “This is the power you face in Frieza.” I let the thought sink in.  

            Perhaps it was overkill to have the boys there.  Father fell back into his throne, lips parted slightly, eyes wide.  I’d never seen him look that way before.  It was rewarding, in it’s own way.

            This was the tipping point I realized.  The delicate edge I needed to walk.  I looked over my shoulder at both boys, gesturing with a hand half behind me that they stay there.  I could only hope my frown conveyed my need for silence.

            I faced my father full and approached the throne.

            “These men will be no match for Frieza.”  I met my father’s eyes.  No longer fearful, they studied me.  He was a tactician at heart.  I was being declassified as a threat and being sorted into a less comfortable grey area.

            Here was where the line lay. 

            I unfurled my tail and bowed, an arm across my chest.  I held the pose before the King, “I beseech you,” I spoke quietly in the room’s ringing silence, “Send us in their stead.”  And the silence closed about us like the folds of a mother’s robe.

            “A-rise.” The near-stutter took me by surprise.  I schooled my features quickly and stood, unbending.  Father’s eyes bore into me, questioning me, weighing me.  They continued over my shoulder to where my son and Kakarotto’s stood and returned to me, his expression withheld.

            “You are foolish, revealing so much so readily.”  He tested.

            “Would I show wisdom by revealing no more?”  I let myself smile, just a bit then.

            He did not smile but nodded once, “Who are you?” He gazed at each of us before returning his eyes to me.

            I paused.  Another line, “A sign, my King.”  There was a moment of quiet, his men slowly coming from their knees.

            Watching us thoughtfully he murmured, “The coming, the end, and the beginning.” One of his eyebrows twitched upward. 

            The line struck a chord, confusion taking me by surprise before I realized what he meant.  He spoke of a myth, of the recreation of the world.  I barely remembered.  When had I heard it?

            I smiled slightly, “Should you wish it.”

            He nodded, “You wish to fight the lizard?”

            “I will destroy that creature.” It was my turn with the thing.  This was my fight.

            He paused, eyes weighing me again.  I almost regretted my vehemence, “Where were you?”

            The change caught me off guard but I had an answer, “Waiting, my King, for an opportunity.”

            He frowned slightly, “And what do you want?”

            That was the one I couldn’t answer.  I was tempted to look toward Gohan and my son.  In indecision my silence stretched long.

            I sighed finally, “I will not hold my race ransom.”  I closed my eyes.  When they opened again my father’s confusion was clear, “I ask for favor, my King, until our desires become clear.”  That would have to do.

            He paused.  In retrospect I doubt it was for thought, but for theatrics.

            “You will destroy Frieza.”  He smirked slowly, “Sear all traces of that vile lizard from memory.” 

            His eyes burned into mine and his voice was low, “Go Legend.  Bring glory to your race and Kingdom.”

            I bowed, curling my tail about myself again.  I remembered the reply, “That our own prevail.”  I stood and turned in a movement, walking toward the boys.

            I placed a hand on Gohan’s shoulder, leaning to speak low, “The desert.”  I put a hand on Trunks’ as the other nodded.

            We vanished.

            “Sire-” Yattre’s breathless voice cracked the silence, the stillness of the Elites breaking soon after as they crowded around the throne.  They moved like returning water after the sinking of a stone.

            “Quiet.” Their stumbling voices came to a halt, “Say nothing.”  This required thought.  I took my time.

            “We will hold.” I silenced their returning voices with a gesture, “Our intelligence says the Prince is on a purge.  A difficult one, but he is in no danger.”  I let my eyes roam the group.  I knew who I wanted.

            “Neb, you will lead the search for these three.  Do not rely on scouter readings and I want satellite pictures within the hour.  Beddrat, How long until Freiza’s arrival?  Inform me then assist Neb.  Keshia, Pota, prepare as planned, the new deadline is an hour after Freiza’s arrival.”  I took a breath, frowning.

            “All are dismissed except... Dekken.” And I waited for them to leave.

            I let the teen sweat for a moment.

            “You saw the child.” He only hesitated a moment before nodding.

            “Yes, King Vegeta.”  His tail was practically twitching beneath my gaze, his breathing shallow.  I waited until his eyes dilated in fear.

            “You will be more thorough from now on.”  I chuckled when he tensed.

            “Dismissed.” And raised my hand.