Dragon Ball 'Redux' @bnnypwn - Tumblr Blog

'Beta' Finale

Today marks the conclusion of Dragon Ball 'Beta', the second part of my epic DBZ fanfic series! I really enjoyed writing this, and it turned out really well. It's notably different than what came before or after, in terms of its singular mission across the entire series. This is where the characters really come into their own, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. For anyone curious, I think of 'Beta' as bridging the gap from the Frieza to the Cell sagas in terms of power levels; since none of my characters are transforming or using Kaio-ken or anything, I played around with the frankly huge gap in power there is between final form Frieza on Namek to Super Perfect Cell.

Dragon Ball 'Beta' Chapter 16, Part 2: A Final Wish

The battle on Sadla was already underway, and the heroes’ plan was essentially to bust through the front door. After Dragon spent a few minutes in the medical machine, healing his wound with the Angel’s Extract, he, Regal, and Gaita suited up and exited their ships. With one final look back to Puttee in the command center of the Rainbow Stocking, the trio flew off through the dark.

As they flew towards the atmosphere, Gaita activated her forcefield around Dragon and Regal. “We can sail straight in this way,” she said. “It’s a lot better than fighting everyone on the way down, or worrying about burning up in the atmosphere.”

“I’m more impressed you activated the forcefield so easily,” said Regal.

Gaita smiled an insecure smile. “This body is a mystery, but at least that was still a simple task.”

Dragon looked over and saw a stream of ships leaving the planet, meeting up on the western side. “They look civilian in nature,” Regal noted. “Probably best that noncombatants leave the planet; Malacol and Daikon fighting could kill everyone around them.”

“Those ships are being led out by the resistance!” Dragon said with delight, recognizing the ships belonging to his comrades escorting the others on their path. “They’re leading an evacuation that Daikon didn’t bother considering. Oughta win us a few more recruits. If I can kill Daikon here, then those Saiyans will be free, too, and my allies can start reshaping the culture instead of fighting.”

“That’s a wonderful dream,” Gaita said.

The heroes took fire from all sides as they descended through the atmosphere, heading straight for the royal palace at the center of Greek. The skies, skylines, and streets were filled with mutant Namekians and Saiyan warriors clashing. Buildings fell left and right. Smoke and fire filled the air. War was in full swing, a war even larger than the combat-ready Saiyan capital could handle.

Once they got close enough to spot their targets, the heroes split off. Regal flew towards the royal palace, ready to intercept Malacol from Daikon. Gaita headed off towards Abalone, who was already fighting Super Saiyan Bagaruta. Dragon followed Regal, looking to fight Daikon.

Gaita tackled Abalone into the rubble, to her shock. Bagaruta realized who Gaita had to be and widened her chi sense until she found Regal and Dragon. Abalone burst out of the rubble and screamed in anger. “I already killed you!” she seethed.

Gaita took her stance. “It seems like death and my family don’t agree,” she said.

Bagaruta slapped Gaita on the back, “Tag, you’re it!” she said. “I’ll be back to kill you both later!” She then flew off towards the palace. Gaita turned to stop her, but Abalone attacked her. Regal and Dragon deflected enemy attacks as they went, until finally they faced the gates of the royal palace. Bagaruta slammed into the ground before them. “I won’t let anyone interfere with the Emperor’s battle!” she declared.

With a smirk, Regal increased speed, much to Bagaruta’s shock. She reacted as fast as she could and grabbed Regal’s foot, but Regal kicked her in the face and dislodged herself right away. Bagaruta then was tackled by Dragon, coming up from behind. Dragon quickly rushed off, hoping to bypass Bagaruta as well, but she caught hold of his arm. He fired a point-blank chi blast at her, but Bagaruta just snarled and tossed him way across the raised walkway in front of the palace.

Bagaruta charged in at Dragon full force. “You should be dead at least four times over!” she screamed. “Twice by my hands, and twice by Daikon’s! There will not be another fight like this! I’ll kill you here and now!”

Dragon rolled his neck. “How many times have you survived Daikon killing you?” he asked. “All those losses just made me stronger.”

Gaita was struggling against herself as she fought Abalone. She was so used to being a machine that she had trouble gaging her strength or energy expenditure without clear cut readouts and data. Before, moving felt similar to what humans called “just thinking about it,” but she didn’t know how to decide on her moves without reams of objective information flashing through her head. Abalone kept up her assault just the same. “How are you even alive?!” Abalone angrily demanded. “I personally ripped your body into pieces!” Gaita kept up the fight, ignoring Abalone’s pleas. Fighting with Gaita became a chore for the Demon Clansperson, not knowing when a full force punch or a limp boodle kick was going to come at her. Abalone felt like she was being played with, in the middle of an active warzone.

Once Regal made it into the main courtyard, she came face to face with the dueling space tyrants, Malacol the Demon Queen of Namek and Daikon the Super Saiyan Emperor. Malacol was fighting far harder than she ever did with Regal, and Daikon was already in his highest transformation. Taking a deep breath, Regal flared her chi to get their attention. Both stopped mid punch and turned with great shock and annoyance. Daikon cursed. “I killed you several weeks ago!” Daikon swore.

Malacol scoffed. “You killed her?” she asked with contempt. “I killed her just a few days ago!” Malacol squinted at Regal and tisked. “Assimilating a worthless scrap like Scallop isn’t going to let you beat me!”

Without a word, Regal charged in at Malacol. Much to the Demon Queen’s surprise, Regal got behind her in an instant and kicked her far away. Regal then turned a fist to Daikon and fired a Jophiel to repel him. “I need you to stay out of my fight,” she told Daikon.

Daikon growled intensely. “You have no right to steal my opponent!” he said.

Dragon charged up a chi blast for Bagaruta. “Power Pearl String!” he said, firing a continuous stream of Power Pearls at her, forcing her to dodge to the air. She fired off a Rosemary, and Dragon blocked it without much issue.

Bagaruta started to lose her composure, something she never thought would happen against an opponent like Dragon. “You aren’t even a Super Saiyan!” she yelled. “You can never be a super Saiyan, thanks to Hedarrow!”

Dragon retook his stance. “And I won’t need to be one,” he said, winking. “Not like you.”

Bagaruta snarled, and then sighed. “I don’t have the same level of mastery of the royal form that Daikon does,” she said. “He can live like that indefinitely. But I didn’t spend all that time training with him just getting stronger.” With a flash of energy, she underwent another change, gaining notable muscle mass, more wildly spiked hair, and a major increase in chi. She laughed. “This should suffice for the likes of you!”

Dragon whistled. “That is quite the improvement. Not like Super Saiyan 2, though.”

Bagaruta attacked, pressing him with massive force unlike anything she was capable of before. Dragon struggled to keep up. Bagaruta was back, once more serene and graceful in her movements. “Don’t you dare mock the royal form with such silly numbering schemes!”

Abalone became tired of the farce that was fighting an enemy who couldn’t control her strength, and decided to simply end the whole thing right there. Charging up all her power, she ran in and overwhelmed Gaita completely. At the end of her assault, she fired a massive energy beam. “Mammon!” she called out, blasting Gaita into the ground.

The dust cleared over Gaita’s forcefield. She sighed as she turned it down. “You know, without knowing my limits, it’s hard to say which of us is stronger,” Gaita admitted. “But I’m not worried at all. You know why? Why I’m taking the time to slowly flail as I learn to control this body, knowing what’s at stake? I can’t finish this job early and make myself a target, carrying your Dragon Balls. Luckily, I have unlimited energy, so I’ll just wait you out.”

Abalone sneered. “No one has unlimited stamina,” she declared. “And I felt you get weaker in our last battle.”

Gaita rushed in and attacked, not trying to control her strength and allowing all her strikes to land full force. Abalone was pressed back, surprised with the force she felt. Gaita then fired a massive, full power Chelsea. After the energy washed over a panting Abalone, Gaita smiled, no worse for wear. “You get the idea? Ah, it’s great to be back in my element!”

Regal, Malacol, and Daikon fought a fierce three-way battle throughout the palace. Though she was a bit unsure going in, Regal was very pleased to see her power enough to keep pace with these giants. It helped that Malacol and Daikon attacked one another, as well, since it kept some of the pressure off of her. Malacol rushed in at Regal, and the two traded blows evenly. The force of their strikes echoed beyond the palace halls. Daikon charged up a Rosemary in each hand, ready to snipe both in the head. Then he looked at the chi in his hands and wondered why he was wasting energy on this, when his goal was immortality; if he got his wish, then it wouldn’t matter what these two did.

Pocketing his Dragon Ball, Daikon left the palace. Malacol chased after him, but Regal intercepted. “I’ll never let you get your wish!” she said.

“So you want him to have it?” Malacol retorted.

“I trust my friends,” said Regal. There was a pause, and then their battle continued, one-on-one.

Daikon emerged from the palace and saw Bagaruta in her enhanced Super Saiyan form fighting evenly with Dragon, and further out Abalone fighting with Gaita. Though Daikon wanted to kill Dragon personally, he put his goals in perspective and flew to Abalone and Gaita. Before he could make it to them, he felt a powerful Power Pearl hit his back. Dragon was moving past Bagaruta and flying after him. Daikon, already incredibly frustrated with the way the day was going, felt his anger peak. He rushed in at Dragon and slammed him in the gut, stopping him in his tracks. Bagaruta arrived at Daikon’s side. “I’ll help you kill this whelp!” she said.

“No, I’ll do it myself!” Daikon barked. “You go get the Dragon Balls, and I’ll join you as soon as I’m done here!” Turning back to Dragon, Daikon growled. “Just lay down and accept your fate! I am not in the mood to play with a rebellious reject like you!” Dragon got up and took his stance, showing no fear in the face of oppression. Daikon took his stance. “Yeah, I’m never making another no-tail. Just death for you.”

Bagaruta rained down chi blasts over Gaita and Abalone. “As promised, I’m here to kill you both!” she proudly announced. Both Gaita and Abalone fired a blast in answer. Bagaruta dodged both of these, appearing behind them and repelling them with a kick.

Abalone got up. “You finally got serious,” she remarked. “Our previous fight was boring.” Gaita popped back up and figured she couldn’t be as relaxed, going two-on-one.

Malacol fired out a powerful Ifrit. Regal blocked with a Raphael, which she released at the tail end of the Ifrit. Malacol blocked the Raphael with a series of blasts fired from her fingers. “Ordog!” she called out. Regal was already en route with a kick after the smoke cleared from the Ordog, and Malacol dodged below, kicking Regal in turn while flipping back up.

The Demon Queen smiled. “Finally, I feel it!” she said. “This is different than our other fights! I already beat you as the Hero of Namek, but this is what I wanted for my personal satisfaction! I guess I should thank Scallop for giving me a chance to fight Regal as Regal.”

Regal glared. “Scallop’s finally free of your will, and she never needed your thanks.”

Dragon fought valiantly against Daikon, giving the battle everything he had. In his fists were years of pain and suffering, of hardship and struggle. Every challenge in his life was orchestrated by Daikon, for no other reason than his success would be inconvenient to the monarch’s selfish pride. Dragon, a pinnacle of Saiyan training in defiance of Super Saiyan supremacy, delivered as much retribution as he could with every strike. Unfortunately, it was not enough. Daikon had exceeded all normal expectations of power, and his strength eclipsed the rebel before him. Every strike to the tyrant was blocked with ease and returned twofold, beating Dragon down through the rubble of Greek. Daikon laughed. “It’s foolish for you to think you could resist me,” he said. “Resist the nature of Saiyans! We transform to release our battle power to its true potential, the greatest in the cosmos! No amount of hard work can replace that nature!” Gritting his teeth, Dragon tackled Daikon and released an explosive wave, hoping to knock him back. Daikon struck Dragon’s stomach and back at once with a knee and elbow, causing him to release. “Thyme!” he yelled as he blasted Dragon away with a mouth energy wave. Daikon charged up a Rosemary and aimed it at Dragon on the ground. “Keep the pits of Hell warm for me.”

Before he could fire it, he was blasted into the ground by a powerful energy blast. Dragon, shocked by the chi he felt, looked up to see Torta flying down. “Woo!” Dragon cheered his friend’s recovery.

“Thanks, buddy!” Torta said. “That was rough; my nightmares were in pain!” Torta then turned to Daikon. “I’ll take care of him.”

Dragon sprang up. “This is my fight! You can’t understand what I’m fighting for here, so don’t even say you’re fighting for me!”

“Hey, I have my own fight here!” Torta shot back. “Your people will need you to live through this war. Me, on the other hand? I’m just some stupid, random Earthling, with nothing compelling to keep me out of danger.” Daikon shot out of the rubble and fired a full power Rosemary at Torta, howling in anger at yet another pest who refused to die. Torta met this with a BLT, and the two beams clashed, neither giving an inch.

Dragon was stunned to see Torta display this kind of power, on par with Daikon. Torta turned to him. “Just two months, man. Just two months’ worth of the Devil's Tincture. We were both so close. It’s only a matter of chance that I’m the one who did this stupid, ill-advised thing. Our hard work did pay off!”

Dragon smiled. “I could have drank that stuff, too.”

Torta smiled. “I wish it had been you.” He turned to Daikon. “Hey, what do you call this more than Super Saiyan form?”

“Silence, you bug!” Daikon screamed, putting more energy into his beam.

Torta responded in kind. “You’re no fun!”

While Bagaruta and Abalone focused their fight on one another, Gaita looked around the battlefield once more. Abalone was supposed to be holding the Dragon Balls, but, as could be expected, she didn’t have a sack tied around her torso. Based on how her abdomen felt while they fought, Gaita didn’t expect her to have eaten them, either. The Dragon Balls were being guarded somewhere nearby.

Abalone charged in at Gaita once more, so she defended herself as best she could. Bagaruta kicked Abalone out of the way and attacked Gaita herself. As Abalone got back up, Gaita was able to throw Bagaruta into her, and the two started fighting each other. Gaita turned her attention back to the landscape; she knew she was close to finding the balls. Suddenly, as she walked, she felt something unusual under her feet. Gaita realized what it was she had stepped on, buried beneath the rubble. More than that, the wobble and flash of insight made everything click for her. A machine, a weapon or shield, would have quantified the exact forces coming through that foot and calculated the shape and distribution of the items, but a warrior had to rely on their wits. Gaita was in an organic body, a living machine, and had finally become what she always wanted.

Abalone saw where Gaita was and panicked, knocking Bagaruta out of the way to reengage with Gaita. Gaita took a confident stance and met Abalone’s attack in equal proportion, fighting with proper balance and even power. Abalone scoffed. “Were you playing around before?” she asked. “No one improves so suddenly.

Gaita giggled a superior giggle. “Well, I was custom-made to be a martial arts genius!” she said.

Bagaruta realized what Gaita must have discovered and prepared to reenter the fray. Before she could, Dragon kicked her down. “My dance card just opened up!” he said. “I’d be glad if you filled it!”

Bagaruta glanced at Daikon and Torta, fighting evenly above Greek, and felt more dread than at any time in her life. Growling, she recomposed herself. “I’ll never let you leave this planet alive!”

Regal pressed the attack on Malacol as hard as she could. The two had been fighting evenly for a while, and there was no sign that either would pull ahead any time soon. It was the battle of her life, against an enemy she was born to battle, and yet Regal did not care about any of that. She had trained more fiercely than anyone, and took up the dreams of others as her own. All that mattered was proving it was all worth it. She was truly happy, fighting the ultimate adversary in Malacol. Malacol, on the other hand, was becoming increasingly worried. Daikon was likely close to getting the Dragon Balls, and for as great as it was to fight Regal the warrior, her purpose on that world was slipping farther away with every passing second. She had to act quickly.

Dragon pressed his fight with Bagaruta with confidence. Having fought Daikon and lived multiple times, she no longer seemed like such a dangerous enemy. Bagaruta felt her anger build up higher and higher the longer Dragon resisted the power of her attacks, refusing to die like he was meant to. She had the “royal form,” and he was just a pup who crawled on top of the trash heap they tossed him into. Bagaruta formed a circle of energy bombs in front of herself. “Sage!” she said, launching them at Dragon.

Dragon charged energy over his hands and feet, spinning and twisting through the air to deflect the Sage and close the distance to Bagaruta. Kicking her into the ground, he stood over her. “What do you think Daikon would do if you ever went Super Saiyan 2, like him?” he asked her. “He would kill you as a threat to his power, and you know that as well as me. Daikon is loyal to no one but himself, and you’re a fool for standing at his side. I can’t promise you redemption, but at least if you fight Daikon with me now, I can offer you the same freedom as the rest of our people.”

Bagaruta knocked Dragon off of herself. “You’re the fool for trying to defy the will of the mighty!” she declared.

Dragon sighed. He formed Dragon’s Fangs over his fists. “Then I guess all I got left is some Tooth Boxing.” He and Bagaruta began fighting once more. With a concerted assault, he was able to tear at her armor, muscles, and bones with his sharp fangs, honed from years of hellish effort to tear down her whole world. Finally, he caught her by the throat and tore away at her arteries and windpipe. Bagaruta grabbed her neck, trying desperately to keep pressure on her wounds as she bled out. Dragon felt a huge sense of accomplishment, having finally beaten her. He turned to join Torta in killing Daikon, but suddenly felt himself being stabbed through the back. There was a whole in his stomach, and he turned to see Bagaruta, smiling with still-glowing eyes from the eye energy beam she ran him through with. The glow died down as she bled out completely.

Now with the control she needed, Gaita was able to hold her own against Abalone with ease. Fighting this way, by her instincts, felt entirely different and utterly exhilarating; Gaita knew she was no longer a mind given the ultimate weapon to fight with, but a true warrior using her own strength. Abalone could tell it was only a matter of time before she would run out of strength, but Gaita truly had unlimited energy. Knowing her options were limited, Abalone charged up her full power and launched an all-out attack, laying everything on the line, victory or death.

As she pressed her attack, Abalone expected Gaita to put up her forcefield again; the strange Earthling was finally looking overwhelmed by the demon’s strength. But the shoe never dropped. Taking it as a blessing, Abalone grabbed Gaita by the throat and fired an Ifrit into her stomach. Once the beam ceased, Abalone smirked over panting breaths, sure she had drilled a hole into Gaita’s stomach. Instead, she saw that Gaita had used an energy sphere to deflect the attack. Gaita smiled. “That ought to have taken the fight out of you!” she said. She charged in for her own attack, devastating Abalone and knocking her deep into the rubble. She charged energy over her hand and raised it over her head. “Wedge!” she called out, bringing her hand down to chop Abalone’s head in two.

Torta continued to duke it out with Daikon, still not fully believing how evenly he was able to clash with the emperor. He had nearly killed himself in a stupid bid for power, and it was paying off. As he saw more and more of the fear and insecurity show in Daikon’s eyes, the more he knew he was right. He did have something that Daikon didn’t, because Torta was having more fun than at any time in his life.

As the two traded blows and Torta prepared a Steak Bomb, Malacol suddenly popped out of the palace and dropkicked Daikon into the streets below. Regal quickly followed. “Hey,” Regal said, smiling briefly. “Sorry I couldn’t keep her away from this.”

“We’ll sort it out shortly,” Torta said. “Not even going to act surprised I’m here?”

“Why bother? You have a way with fate.”

Malacol accosted Daikon, trying to reach for his Dragon Ball. “Hand it over to me now!” Malacol demanded. “Let me end this charade and take my throne!”

“How about you tell Abalone to give me your Dragon Balls!” Daikon spat back. Eventually, Malacol grabbed ahold of the pocket that was supposed to be holding the Dragon Ball, and both monarchs realized it was empty.

Gaita attended to Dragon’s wound. “Are you ok?” she asked.

“It’s bad, but it won’t kill me,” Dragon said. “I gotta get back in that fight!”

“It’s far more important we get the Dragon Balls!” Gaita said. “We can’t let either of them become immortal!”

Dragon smiled. “Already taken care of.” Daikon turned to Dragon with a look of intense anger. “Looks like the jig is up. You know where the others are?”

“Yeah.”

He showed her the Dragon Ball he managed to swipe from Daikon. “We need to run, now!”

Daikon and Malacol immediately rushed over to Dragon and Gaita. Gaita dashed to the place where the remaining Dragon Balls were hidden under the rubble and removed them. She put up her forcefield around herself and Dragon as Torta and Regal intercepted the tyrants. “Get yourselves out of here!” Torta told Gaita and Dragon.

Gaita flew off as fast as she could, dragging the surprised Dragon in the shell of her forcefield. Daikon and Malacol both tried chasing after, but Torta and Regal kept them at bay, doing their best to drive the enemies into the ground. Knowing the forcefield was in play, neither bothered blocking the energy blasts the tyrants fired at the retreating Gaita.

“Hey, put on your helmet!” Dragon reminded Gaita as he put his own on. Gaita put hers on, thinking this form of frailty was an unwanted change. They made it back into space and flew as fast as possible to the Rainbow Stocking.

“We’ll get you back in the medical machine as soon as we can!” Gaita told Dragon.

Once they got closer to the ship, they found that every ship around the Rainbow Stocking, protected by its forcefield, was destroyed by stray chi blasts fired in pursuit of Gaita. “It’s fine,” Dragon said. “Just get inside!”

Gaita continued on and entered the ship. “Thank god you’re back alive!” Puttee said, hugging Gaita as soon as she boarded. “Where’s Torta and Regal?”

“They’re still down there,” said Dragon. “They’re keeping the big guns busy. We have to finish the job, or it’s all for nothing!” Gaita rolled the Dragon Balls onto the floor.

Puttee nodded and removed a wand-like device, shining a light over the Dragon Balls. She then checked the radar screen. “The nanites are deactivated!” she confirmed. “There’s no longer an easily trackable signal to locate these bad boys! After we get our wish, they’ll go back to being nearly impossible to locate!”

Gaita went to the command seat and started charting a course for a habitable moon in a nearby star system. “We should wait till Torta and Regal get back,” Puttee said.

“We can’t wait that long,” Dragon said. “We’ll go make our wish and then run right back to help them. As long as the Dragon Balls are in play, Daikon or Malacol could become immortal. We have to be sure.”

Puttee fidgeted a minute. “Punch it, Gaita,” she said. Gaita turned the engines on and blasted off.

Daikon screeched in anger as he felt Dragon’s chi shoot away from Sadla. Torta interrupted this animalistic rage with a knee to the gut, causing Daikon to lose breath. He prepared a hammer strike, but Daikon flipped back and out of the way. “I’m going to kill you so hard for ruining everything!” Daikon screamed.

“You let the Dragon Balls slip from my grasp!” Malacol said as she and Regal continued to fight. “You insufferable worm!” Regal kept attacking Malacol single-mindedly, ignoring all her indignant anger. A kick at the end of her assault was blocked with a steely arm. “I’m going to make you pay for everything.” Regal charged back in, but Malacol repelled her with a stream of chi blasts. Malacol rushed over to Daikon and Torta, knocking Torta away to give Daikon several good licks. “You interfered from the start! You killed so many of my children!” Torta charged back in, so Malacol blasted him with chi and then grabbed him by the throat. “And you! You’re just an irrelevant speck of trash who keeps popping up in my plans!”

She tossed him down to the ground. Regal flew back in, but Malacol jumped back and floated a dozen feet off the ground. She held out both hands and charged up a massive energy bomb, the likes of which could destroy a planet. Torta, Regal, and Daikon were stunned. “None of you get to leave here alive!” Malacol said. “No matter what it takes! Beelzebub!” She fired the energy bomb directly into Sadla. The blast knocked the other fighters back onto the shaking ground. It was like the mother of all earthquakes, flattening the crumbling capitol. The bomb continued to bust down through the mantle until it reached the core, where it detonated. All of Sadla was rocked by seismic tremors of apocalyptic proportions.

After a moment, once the dust settled, Malacol laughed over the battlefield. “I’ve detonated the core of this planet!” she announced. “Sadla has just a few minutes of life left on it! No matter how this turns out, I’ll have my revenge! You’re the ones who die here, one way or another!”

Daikon exploded with anger. “How dare you destroy my planet, you slug!” he yelled. “I’ll kill you ten times!”

“I understand your feelings,” said Malacol with a sly smile. She pointed at Torta and Regal, standing shoulder to shoulder. “But they’re a united front. I suggest we table this discussion for afterwards.”

Daikon growled like an animal, delirious in his anger. Torta charged him and tackled him far away. “Regal!” Torta called out. “I don’t know if they’d really team up, but we better keep them apart!”

“Agreed!” said Regal, who flew up to meet Malacol. Malacol dodged the first kick. “You managed to surprise me there, you vile beast!”

Malacol drew out her full power and attacked Regal, catching her in the side and knocking her into the ground. “I heard about Limpet’s prophecy, you know!” she teased. “You are going to die here today! As the Demon Queen, I will act as your god of death and ensure this prophecy comes to fruition!”

Regal smiled. “Is that supposed to scare me? I’m more worried the planet will kill you before I can!”

Torta took a moment to refocus himself, fighting against the frenzied, bestial Daikon. The Earthling dodged around a moment, proving too agile to pin down easily. He found an opening and punched Daikon in the gut, following up with a massive series of blows. The last kick hit Daikon in his face, and he just stood there, not reacting.

“I’m going to make you pay for everything you’ve done to me!” Daikon yelled ferociously. He, when using all of his strength, was a force to be reckoned with. Each blow could crack a planet in half, and he moved blindingly fast. Truly, the power that he had cultivated with his training and transformation were on another scale entirely. A scale that Torta found himself balancing, as he blocked as many strikes as he took, without breaking. Despite every reason Daikon should have been the superior fighter, Torta was keeping pace, and saw victory ahead of him.

Daikon fired a Sage at Torta, who deflected all the blasts by hand. After the last one, he saw Daikon fly in his face. The emperor punched Torta and used his body as a punching bag, beating him mercilessly. He knocked Torta into the ground and fired a Rosemary into Torta.

Torta got up and countered the beam with a BLT. Unlike before, Torta started to overpower the Rosemary, slowly pushing Daikon’s beam back at him. “Your transformations are really draining, did you know that?” Torta asked. “It’s like you’re eating away at your life force. You can’t fight like this forever, but I’m not nearly so close to the end of my rope.” The beam clash finally met Daikon, and he was blown away.

Daikon got up and spat blood. With a low growl, he flew over and landed atop a single-person spaceship. “Malacol, you want to make this game interesting?!” he asked loudly. He charged up a massive amount of chi and the drew a circle around himself. The energy flowed into the circle, creating a wall of energy. “Oregano!” he called out. The wall of energy burst across the planet, like a tidal wave. Torta, Regal, and Malacol guarded against the energy, but the rest of the Saiyan and Demon Clan soldiers were unable to withstand the force, and burned away. All standing structures and vehicles were devastated by the attack. “Once this Oregano wave finishes circling the planet, this ship I’m standing on will be the only ticket out of here! No one’s scrambling anywhere for shelter or escape except the victor!”

Torta was stunned. “He’s insane!” he said.

Regal was shocked as well, but saw Malacol fly at Daikon and his ship. She intercepted, kicking Malacol away. “You’re not getting on that ship!” She went in for the attack, and waved Torta off. Getting his senses back, Torta blocked a strike from the advancing Daikon, and their battle continued.

As the battle raged on, Regal could feel the difference in her and Malacol’s power more clearly. The Demon Queen was a ferocious monster, aiming to kill or maim with every strike. The force of her attacks could destroy worlds, and the wake of her movements tore at the charred, rocky surface of the planet. And yet, Regal could not see herself losing this match. Malacol got some distance and stretched her arms out, using her demonic mystic attack to keep Regal at bay. Regal blocked the elongated limbs and smiled, stretching out her own arms to punch Malacol in the stomach. “I assimilated your child, remember?” she reminded Malacol. “I know all your tricks.”

“You don’t know anything about me!” the Demon Queen screamed, seething with anger. “I’ll rebuild the Demon Clan from the ground up! They were useful tools! Even if it takes centuries, I’ll collect the Rainbow Dragon Balls again, and I’ll rule over the universe for eternity! I am the most fearsome being in the cosmos, and I will personally ensure that all living things know the might of Namekians! I am all that matters!”

Regal realized Malacol’s great weakness. She turned to Torta and motioned to the ship. Torta was confused a moment, but then realized the question and nodded with a smile that surprised even him. Charging up an Uriel, Regal destroyed the last remaining spaceship on Sadla, much to Daikon’s and Malacol’s shock. Regal turned to Malacol. “Now no one has an ulterior motive in this fight,” she said coolly. “Let’s just settle this.”

Malacol charged back in at Regal even more ferociously than before. “How can you be so moronic, you insolent wretch!” she cursed.

Regal laughed. “Did you really think escaping me was an option?” Regal asked. “I guess you would need to run away from me!” Malacol snapped, but her next punch was caught in a steely grip. “You are weak because you’re alone. I built my entire life around those who make me stronger. You have no hope of defeating me!”

Daikon had initially charged at Regal after she destroyed the last ship, as well, but Torta intercepted. “Hey, don’t forget the backwater weakling currently kicking your butt!” Torta reminded Daikon.

Daikon unleashed his power on Torta. “My power goes beyond the limits of your flimsy imagination!” he declared. Torta scoffed, so Daikon forced his body and chi even higher through sheer anger and pummeled Torta back.

A moment later, Torta was hurting but still standing, while Daikon was huffing and puffing, the outburst costing him more in stamina than he put out in effort. Torta laughed. “Yeah, that’s your problem!” Torta said. “You keep talking a big game about your big, bad transformations, but you need those transformations to keep up with people like me, who don’t use them! My hard work did more than you could ever imagine, and it’s killing you, isn’t it? I guess having a transformation like that would come in handy, if I faced someone far stronger and needed to close the gap right then and there, but it’s a fool’s way to claim inherent superiority over all life in the cosmos!”

Regal and Malacol kept duking it out. Soon enough, both Namekians were feeling the burden of their long battle. Malacol sighed. “I guess there is a certain joy in this battle,” she said, smiling. “A certain freedom in this moment.”

“Indeed,” said Regal, keeping her mind laser focused on victory. She charged back in and knocked Malacol into the ground, where she rained a storm of chi blasts onto the Demon Queen. Malacol guarded these blasts with ease, and noticed something odd about the way they hit the ground. A moment later, the chi blasts started shooting up from the ground.

Malacol dodged them all. “You’ll need more than Scallop’s tricks to beat me!” she said.

She then felt Regal’s Michael impale her heart from behind. “You’re right,” Regal concurred. “It makes for a killer distraction, though.” Removing the chi blade from Malacol’s back, Regal chopped her head off, grabbed it, and then burned it away with a Daniel. Regal was satisfied that it was over, and wondered if the Grand Elder could feel this on Earth. She looked to the sky. “It’s over, mother.”

Daikon charged at Torta, who was knocked backwards, his hands streaming through the air. After getting his guard back up, Torta threw a Steak Bomb into Daikon’s chest, blasting him back. When the tyrant looked up, he found Torta had let out a stream of energy mines when he was tackled. “Have a Tea Set!” Torta said, converging these mines on Daikon, peppering him with powerful explosions. After the smoke cleared, Daikon looked up to see a chi spear mere feet away. It pierced his heart, causing Daikon to spit up blood and gasp in pain and shock. Refusing to die, the emperor got back to his feet and took his stance. “That Pickle Spear not enough for you? I figured as much.” Torta rushed in and overwhelmed the dying Daikon with a series of blows and point-blank Sliders, which stabbed through his body in multiple places. Soon, Daikon had taken too much damage, and he fell to the ground, dead. Torta looked down at the deposed emperor, not quite believing it himself yet.

The planet was rocked by a massive earthquake, as the core began to cave in for the last time. Torta looked to Regal. The two locked eyes and smiled. “You know, you look a lot worse for wear than me,” Torta said. “Kinda feels like that’s a sign about who’s stronger here…”

Regal snapped. “I was fighting for far longer than you!” she shot back. “Against both of them!”

“And I just recovered from a lethal poisoning! Stop making excuses!” He chuckled and took his stance. Regal sighed, smiled, and did the same. There wasn’t anything else for them to do. As Sadla began to go through its final death throes, the two fated rivals fought, not willing to go quietly to their deaths without knowing who was the superior martial artist.

As the two traded blows, Sadla collapsed into itself.

#dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #fan fiction #anime #manga

'Beta' Finale

Today's post marks the final chapter of Dragon Ball 'Beta', which I decided would be split into two parts. This is a particularly long chapter, by necessity, and I know these posts are attacking you with a walls of text. So, this week, we see where the heroes are as they rally for the final battle, and next week, all the fighting breaks out. Enjoy!

Dragon Ball 'Beta' Chapter 16, Part 1: A Final Wish

Some minutes after Abalone descended into the lake, Puttee’s communicator vibrated. She ignored it at first, not caring what her friends were talking about. However, the vibrations took on a pattern, a familiar melody she would hum while she worked. Puttee opened her eyes and looked at the hand belonging to Gaita she pulled from the lake. She rushed back to the ship, on the other side of the vast battlefield. Her lungs burning, Puttee finally reached it, and frantically examined the control panels. Soon enough, she found within the computer banks a massive load of data, still decompressing and processing. The file was named Gaita_Promise_Kept. Puttee’s tears warmed into joy.

Looking around, Puttee considered flying back to the lake to retrieve as many of Gaita’s parts as she could before Abalone emerged. However, she knew that too few had survived to put her back together, and that Abalone was going to come back from the lake at any moment, ready to murder her. She looked to the computer panel where Gaita was uploading, and the medical machine that held Spats, and made up her mind. Doing everything she could to keep the Saiyan rescue ship from showing up on radar and tracking, Puttee prepared the ship to launch. She took it up into the air and flew out and away. Perhaps she could retrieve Gaita’s parts after Abalone left with the Dragon Ball, and it was safe to salvage. One day, she could put them back together.

She landed on an asteroid and sighed, feeling her overwhelming mixture of terror, sadness, relief, and hope battle it out inside her body. A moment later, the computer made booting up noises. “I…I’m sorry,” Gaita was heard through the ship’s speakers, shaky at first. “I lost that groundbreaking, one-of-a-kind body you made for me.”

Hearing Gaita’s voice filled Puttee with incredible joy. “I’m just happy you survived!” Puttee said. “I promise, I’ll go salvage your parts as soon as Abalone leaves.”

“Don’t do that. I know you already know too many of the parts have been destroyed completely. My body was a hodgepodge of parts from across the universe; too many of the pieces are too peculiar to replace easily. You’d have to go to Plant and Kamiland, for one. I don’t need you to remake that old body for my sake.”

“No, it’s totally fine, we can go start right now—”

“We both know we can’t, Puttee. Flying around these war-torn stars, with massive targets on our backs, with no way to defend ourselves, and leaving our friends behind while they carry out the most challenging and important part of our adventure…I mean, you know we can’t do that. We’d be risking our friends’ lives, our lives, Spats’s life. It’s fine, really. I can wait till this is all over, and you can make me a newer, better body, a living machine. I’m just sorry I failed, because now we’re down another fighter.”

Puttee wiped her tears. “You really should think of yourself more; it’s not like anyone else in this family hesitates to.” The two sisters laughed. “I know you’re right, I just can’t sit around doing nothing to help you.”

“Then sit around helping Spats. It’s not like you have anything better to do.”

“True, true. If you’re really alright with living in the ship’s computer, then I can start analyzing that Devil's Tincture sample I took. It’s weird stuff, sis.” Puttee got up and retrieved the sample jar, ready to get started.

Far away, and a couple months later, on a moon orbiting a gas giant, Regal continued to bleed into the lunar soil, lamenting her fate. She turned her eyes towards Scallop, laying still and empty. Regal’s hope had died, and soon she would as well.

A cough broke Regal’s malaise. Scallop continued coughing and wheezing, the smallest spark of life energy burning inside of her. With renewed strength, Regal dragged herself over to Scallop to check on her condition; at least they could die together, if she were still hanging on.

Regal found Scallop, her heart run through, yet still holding onto life. Scallop looked at Regal and scoffed. “I won’t let my mom kill me, no matter what,” Scallop said defiantly. “She threatened to kill me so many times, and freedom means not having to live with that threat.” Scallop glanced down at her chest wound and sighed. “But things aren’t looking good, are they?”

“No, they aren’t,” Regal agreed. “Spite isn’t enough to sustain life. If only I were stronger, I could avenge you, at least.”

Scallop laughed. “You still don’t get what Malacol was saying, do you? You have to fight for yourself, for once.” There was a pause, and Regal puzzled over that statement. “Look, the two of us are dying. We only have one shot at living. You have to absorb me as a part of your being.”

Regal was shocked. “Assimilation? Even if I make you a part of me and get stronger, that’ll only be for a few minutes as I die.”

“I’ve heard rumors that when Namekians assimilate others, and make another’s body a part of their own, it’s more literal than you think. My body could literally fill in the wound in yours. My mass has to go somewhere. But look at it this way: We’re both dying, and if this works, I’ll unlock incredible power inside a revitalized you, possibly enough to defeat Malacol; if it fails, then we’re still dying together on this rock.”

“But your dreams would die!”

“Look, this is what I want. I can be free as a part of you. And if I’m a part of you, then you can’t say you’re fighting for someone else. I just…you’ve done so much for me, and I could never return the favor. Let me try to save your life.”

Regal took a deep breath. “Ok, I’ll do it.” She placed a hand on Scallop’s chest. “You…you were my hope that I could actually succeed. You remind me that I’m not alone. I can’t express enough gratitude for you, Scallop. Thanks for everything.”

Scallop smiled. “You better not screw things up.” Scallop began to glow brightly, and energy overwhelmed Regal’s body. Soon, Scallop was gone, and kneeling over the ground was a fully healed Regal. She felt the place where her body had been cut and felt Scallop as a part of herself. A tear rolled down her face, and she imagined Scallop scoffing at her sentimentality. With a chuckle, Regal looked over her fists, and felt power like never before flowing through her veins.

She got up and walked to the Rainbow Stocking. She had to get on the radio to her friends. Malacol had six Dragon Balls and was on her way to Sadla to steal the last from Daikon. In all likelihood, all seven balls would soon be found on Sadla, between two imperial armies, with the victorious tyrant claiming immortality. Time was running short.

The smoke cleared over a fresh crater on a former mining colony. Torta gasped for air as he revived. Though beaten very badly, he was not nearly as dead as Daikon believed him to be. The Saiyan Empire was far too arrogant about their ability to kill people, and Torta was determined to make that their undoing. But first, he turned over and looked at Dragon. The rebel was much more likely dead, after the puncture wound in his side. Though Torta succeeded in using his body to shield Dragon from the blast, there was every reason to think Dragon had not survived his previous attack, and Torta hoped he was wrong about that. Torta checked on Dragon’s vitals. He had no pulse. Torta wrapped his shirt around Dragon’s torso, hoping to slow down the bleeding, and then started CPR. After several rounds of compression and breaths, Dragon’s heart finally started beating again. Torta nearly fainted from relief.

After gathering his strength, Torta managed to drag Dragon out of the crater and back to the ship. It was a charred, ruined husk of a vehicle, but fortunately the inside was protected enough to contain the first aid kit. Torta took to sewing up Dragon’s wound, hoping that would be enough to keep him going.

Torta looked through the ship for whatever supplies he could salvage and found the jar of the Devil's Tincture. The endgame would be a few days away; there was no more time for this miracle elixir to help him grow as far as he needed. The Super Saiyan Emperor Daikon was only ever toying with him, and days could not bridge that gap. He didn’t even have a way off the planet.

A few hours passed. Torta got some food together and ate. He gave Dragon some water and monitored his condition as best he could. He lamented not taking a ship with a medical machine, now that he needed one. In the sky, Saiyan chi descended. Torta looked out the window and saw a Saiyan fast attack ship land. Maybe Daikon was no longer quite so arrogant, since he sent a cleanup crew to confirm Torta and Dragon’s deaths. Three enemies emerged. They quickly checked the crater and found it empty. One turned towards the ship and indicated the others follow her. Torta saw enough and took all three out with a trio of Sliders to the heart.

With these assailants out of the way, Torta took Dragon to the enemy ship. This one did not have a medical machine, but it did have a life support system. Taking the qualified win, Torta hooked Dragon up in it and hoped that he would live through the night. Torta knew he needed to contact his friends and let them know what was going on. He went to the radio and set it to pick up the transmissions he and his allies had been using to communicate. When he did so, he heard Regal. “Hello…hello…We really need to get together as fast as possible. All seven Dragon Balls are likely being collected on Sadla in just a few days, and either Malacol or Daikon will get their wish!”

Torta was relieved to hear from Regal. “I’m here,” Torta responded. “How are you? Are we all on the line?”

“Yes, we are!” Puttee said.

“We’re doing a lot better now, but it’s been rough,” Gaita interjected.

It was a joyous occasion. All of Torta’s friends were alive and ok. They all traded stories, and caught each other up to speed. Everyone was devastated to hear about the loss of Gaita’s physical form, Scallop, and the wavering life of Dragon.

“This is all really bad for us,” Torta said. “Regal’s right, we need to get to Sadla as soon as possible. That is definitely looking like the endgame.”

“It does sound that way,” Gaita said. “I’m sorry I can’t help out more.”

“Hey, I appreciate that,” Torta said, “but I’m a lot happier to know you’re alive.”

“Indeed,” Regal concurred. “I’m more surprised Puttee didn’t insist on answering the call alone until after she made it sound like you were dead, just to mess with us.”

“She wanted to!” said Gaita. “That’s why I jumped in as soon as I could!”

“It’s a solid joke, you party poopers,” Puttee said, pouting. “Not like I’ll ever have another chance to make it.”

The group hashed out their trajectories, and agreed to meet near Sadla in a few days. Once the call was over, Torta looked back over at Dragon. He knew he had to do something to even the odds, to defeat Daikon for Dragon. But then Torta remembered how the fight they just had started. Dragon asked to challenge Daikon alone. Perhaps before, Dragon suggested a team approach, knowing how far below Daikon they still were. Now that he was so much closer to the emperor, he would not accept anyone taking his fight from him.

Torta thought about Spats, and remembered Puttee’s insistence that she bring Spats back to life. Fighting to avenge Spats wouldn’t be what Puttee wanted, and it certainly wouldn’t be what Spats wanted. The people of Earth had no inkling of any of this, so it didn’t even feel for their sakes that he fought. His eyes found the Devil's Tincture again. He remembered all the work he put in, trying to overcome his limits and move forward. It was his dream since he was a child, to be an even better fighter than he was the day before. First Hedarrow, then Bagaruta, and then Daikon beat that kind of hope out of him, that he could ever succeed with honest work alone.

The jar was getting much closer to empty by then, but Torta estimated there was about another two months’ worth for a single person, at two drops a day. If that person were being responsible and following dosage instructions. Daikon only cared about proving he was the most superior being in all the universe, and Torta saw true fear on his face when Spats overpowered him.

He went to the helm and set the ship on an autopilot course for Sadla. A transmission came in over the radio. “Are the weaklings dead?” Daikon asked on the other line.

“Uh…um, yes, they are,” said Torta, making his voice gruffer in an attempt to imitate one of the Saiyans. “You’re incredible power was too much for them!”

Daikon laughed with pleasure. “Then return home at once! It’s time for the final battle!” The line went dead. Torta looked at the Devil's Tincture and realized he had only one option to prepare for that final battle, and prove what made him special.

Regal meditated in the command seat of the Rainbow Stocking. She reflected on her fight with Malacol, and all the goading that had gone into it. She remembered Scallop’s words, before they assimilated. She thought back to the Trials of Kamiland, and how they revealed her greatest joy. Going into the next battle, Regal knew it had to be different. She feared so much what it would mean for her to lose when fighting for others, so much so that it held her back in the real fight. But she feared winning just the same, because she would lose her purpose. What she really feared, then, was fighting for herself and losing.

This was a liability she could not take into the next fight. If she won, she would prove how much work she’d put into being a better fighter, and she would demonstrate the strength her relationships had given her in that journey. If she lost, then she would die, and that hadn’t bothered her before. Regal was tired of living afraid of life. There was only one opponent for her on Sadla, and she and her were already sharing a ship.

Puttee set the medical machine to its new settings and watched it work with anticipation. Gaita made noises on the PA to indicate she metaphorically held her breath. After two months of research, Puttee had decoded the structure of the Devil's Tincture sample, and figured out how to reverse-engineer a healing elixir from it. “Come on, Angel’s Extract!” she kept repeating, like a mantra. The medical machine, perhaps the only technology capable of making and distributing the Angel’s Extract, was filling with the special immersion. If all went as Puttee predicted, then soon Spats’s nerves would be healed, and a blank slate version of her would awaken. Yet another reason to make it through the next adventure alive.

“What will you do when she wakes up?” Gaita asked.

“I guess I’ll have to start teaching her how to talk first,” Puttee said. “Whatever seems like the most vital basic information. She’ll be like a newborn baby. We have to deactivate those nanites on Sadla, so we have to go, but having this blank Spats on board means we have to head out as soon as possible afterwards.”

Puttee watched the screen closely, desperate for good news. According to the readouts, the medical machine was having luck restoring the health and function of Spats’s nerves, all throughout her body. The process was rapidly increasing, and it would be finished within the hour. The two sisters cheered the successful results.

An hour of impatience later, Puttee examined the results. “It worked!” she exclaimed. “The Angel’s Extract was able to fully heal and revitalize Spats’s damaged nervous system! And it looks like it actually reinforced them! Based on what I saw of her bioengineering, her power rating should me massively higher than it was the last time we saw her! This stuff is insane!”

Gaita drained the medical machine, and Puttee carried Spats out of it, setting her in a chair. Puttee held her hand and awaited her revival. A minute passed with no reaction. Puttee tried gently nudging Spats, trying to get her to wake up. Nothing seemed to work. Gaita sounded over the PA. “If you look at the last readouts closely, you’ll notice that they…still show no signs of activity in her brain…”

Silence filled the ship as it flew. “Let me see it,” Puttee asked. Gaita produced the readout on the screen, and Puttee examined it. Indeed, the data showed no activity in most of Spats’s brain. Even the medical machine’s own processes for reviving patients had no impact, after the brain cells were restored to previous function. Somehow, there was no bringing Spats back.

Puttee began to cry. Gaita sobbed. “You did everything you could!” Gaita said. “Spats made her choice, and I’m sure she was happy with it!”

Puttee wiped her eyes. “Yeah, I bet she was,” she agreed. “She always did exactly what she wanted.” But Puttee couldn’t stand the thought of losing her sister. “So, Gaita, remember how Spats said she’d do anything to make it up to us for trying to kill us?”

Gaita was apprehensive. “I really don’t think we should do that.”

Puttee shook her head. “It’s totally fine. I know we’ve talked a lot about this before, in case this exact thing happened, and my mind hasn’t changed. Spats wasn’t the sentimental type about this sort of thing. And you said yourself how much you want to help with the upcoming fight. We all have a much better shot at coming out of this alive if we do the worst plan B in all of history.”

Gaita was still harboring objections, but felt her desires overpower them, along with the logic of Puttee’s argument. She knew Spats would approve.

Days later, war broke out on Sadla. The entirety of the Demon Clan army swarmed the Saiyan homeworld, clashing with the full might of the Saiyan army. In the royal capital, Greek, Daikon sat in waiting, holding onto his one Dragon Ball. Malacol left her six with Abalone and flew into the capital to confront Daikon personally. This would be the last battle of the space tyrants; one would fall, and one would rule the universe forever.

Outside the planet, a trio of rogue ships met in space. Regal took the forcefield down a moment and opened up over the radio. “You’re all clear to come abord the Rainbow Stocking,” she said.

From the Saiyan fast attack ship emerged two figures in suits, one carrying the other. Once inside the airlock, Regal was surprised by who entered. “I thought you were the injured one, Dragon,” Regal said.

Dragon took off his helmet and set down the unconscious Torta, his face etched with agony. “Yeah, it really should have been,” Dragon said. “I can move some, but I’m not exactly one-hundred percent; I’m hoping to get a bath in the medical machine on the other ship before we go planetside. But this idiot,” Dragon pointed at Torta, “decided to drink all of the remaining Devil's Tincture, presumably thinking it would make him stronger.”

Regal scoffed. “That stuff beats the tar out of you on a good day. In any dose larger than a drop or two, it’s clearly a lethal poison! And we don’t even know if it works that way.”

“Yeah, he’s a real idiot. Maybe he thought he’d wake up by now.”

Regal gazed at the pained look on Torta’s face. “Did he drink it on the first day of your trip over here? It’s impressive he’s still alive.”

Dragon smiled. “That it is. Lot of good it does us now, though.”

“I’m coming in!” Puttee announced from the air lock. Once the doors opened, she came rushing in. “I’ve missed you so much!” Puttee cried out to the control panel. While Regal rolled her eyes and Dragon laughed, Puttee was followed inside by Spats.

Regal found herself staring a moment, confirming the hairstyle wasn’t Gaita’s. “I didn’t realize Puttee had healed you,” Regal said. “Do you have any memories? Is it ok for you to move around?”

Dragon turned to Puttee. “Hey, congratulations! You did it!” He turned to offer a handshake to Spats. “I guess this time we can have a proper introduction. I’m Dragon!”

Spats stared at the hand and fidgeted. She took it and shook. “Yes, it’s time we reintroduce ourselves,” she said. “I’m actually Gaita.”

Regal and Dragon were confused. “I did heal Spats,” Puttee explained, slowly spinning around in the command seat. “I even made her far stronger than before. But she still couldn’t be revived in any capacity. Her bioengineering makes her too…unique, even by universe-full-of-aliens standards. So, I had the body of one sister with no mind, and the mind of another sister with no body…”

Regal and Dragon were stunned. Gaita bowed. “I know this is unusual,” she said. “I find myself a bit uncomfortable in my skin.” Puttee laughed.

“Is this…something you can do?” Dragon asked.

“I’m not losing my sisters,” Puttee said. “We talked about this a lot, and even after all of Gaita’s objections, we decided that Spats would bless this union, if she were here.”

Dragon contemplated the situation for a moment.

Regal clapped Gaita on the shoulder. “Then we’re just alike,” she said. “I have Scallop living inside me, just as you are living within Spats. This isn’t anything to feel shame about.” Gaita teared up and hugged Regal, who rolled her eyes. “She’s definitely not Spats.”

Dragon laughed. “We can worry about the philosophy of this later, when it’s all over. I’m glad to have your help, Gaita.” He patted her on the back.

With the team finally back together, they went over their plans. “Intel is pretty limited,” Dragon said. “Based on chi sense and the nanite signals, I’d say that Daikon and Malacol are already fighting in Daikon’s palace, where he’s keeping the Dragon Ball he took from me. Another powerful Demon Clan member, probably Abalone, is fighting Bagaruta, and the other six balls are near that site.”

“Agreed,” said Regal. “The only notable enemies are the monarchs and their last remaining officers of note.”

“I want to be the one to fight Abalone,” Gaita requested.

Regal and Dragon smiled in agreement. “Glad to hear it,” said Regal. “A real warrior wouldn’t back down from this revenge match. I also would trust no one else with securing the Dragon Balls themselves.”

“For sure,” said Dragon. “I’ll fight Daikon, though I’m guessing Bagaruta will try to intervene. At least one person here is going to have two opponents, at some point. With that in mind, Regal, I suggest you wait for backup before going to fight Malacol. Daikon will turn on you, too, for interrupting the fight, and then it’s two on one.”

Regal leered at Dragon a moment. “Daikon’s just as likely to leave me and Malacol to kill each other and secure the Dragon Balls. It’s a gamble all around.”

Puttee nudged Torta. “Is, um…he going to be ok?” she asked.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” said Dragon. “I have no way of knowing if he’s ever going to wake up. This is his reward for drinking magic poison like a miracle drug. It’s best to assume he’s out of this fight, and we’ll revive him as soon as we can afterwards.”

To be continued

#Dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #fan fiction #anime #manga

Dragon Ball 'Redux' Interlude 2: Poboy's Apprenticeship, Interrupted

This story takes place about seven and a half months after the heroes left Earth

The past few months on Earth were eventful, especially for a future guardian of the planet like Poboy. People around the world were recovering from the Genmajin attacks, trials had started for various leaders of the Silico government that led the attack on other nations, and the ever-growing calls for a unified, democratic world government were gaining a lot of support. Every day, Poboy would watch over the Earth alongside Okome, discuss history with Joma, and learn more about the many secrets and artifacts hidden in the Temple of the Kami. The Temple had stood for centuries, the oldest standing structure on the planet, and was a repository for some of the planet’s most important and dangerous items.

Though there was a lot of change in the air, nothing smelled like conflict to Poboy. Peace was enveloping the land, and soon positive change would grace Earthlings, as well. He would sometimes talk with Svenex, who had become a starring figure in the movement to unite the world. The two shared their rosy outlook on things, which were developing much more smoothly than ever imagined.

Poboy had adopted a hobby, one he planned to continue, even after succeeding Okome: Unraveling the secrets of the Earth. His first mystery was the location of the Earth Namekians, which Okome had thought were long gone. The Grand Elder searched the world for them, making use of the Temple’s doorway, and Poboy would speak with her about it and provide tips he gleaned from the library.

One morning, Okome was looking across the seas. Poboy entered the grand hall. “Come, watch with me,” Okome invited his apprentice. Poboy approached, and put a paw on Okome’s shoulder, allowing Okome to share his far-seeing eyes. Pods of whales rose from the depths of the ocean for a long-awaited breath of fresh air. Many thousands of tuna rushed to their spawning grounds. The coral glittered in the light that filtered to their clearwater beds. It was a beautiful day.

“Seeing things like this always remind me how important protecting life on this planet is,” Poboy said.

Okome nodded. “The planet should be preserved until its judgment day. Every life holds a spark that could lead to the greatest joys or the deepest sorrows, and everything in between. As guardian deities, it’s our job to preserve the entire sacred tableau.”

Poboy marveled at the waters a moment longer, and then removed his paw. “I will continue my readings in the library,” he said. On his way out of the grand hall, he saw Joma meditating in front of her crystal ball. “What visions lie on the horizon?”

“Dark clouds, but none that spell disaster,” the old seer said.

“You could say that any day,” Poboy remarked.

Joma smiled. “True, no sky is every still or fully serene. As a Kami, it’ll be your job to judge those skies for yourself.”

The rest of the day, Poboy kept his snout in the books, focusing on the history of the Temple itself. He had recently read about how and why the pocket space was first formed around the Temple, and how this change affected the type of travelers that would find it. The texts in front of him told the story that the Trials of Kamiland helped ensure that potential successors to the Kami became increasingly worthy of the honor of divinity, and allowed for longer apprenticeships before ascending.

Poboy read well into the night, and soon it was time for him to go to bed. He yawned and looked up at the great jewel which stood at the head of the library, smiling at the way its multifaceted surface glittered in the torchlight. He smiled. “Good night, jewel!” he said as he got up for his quarters.

From her post in the grand hall, Joma was lost in vision, and soon her brow furrowed. Something was amiss in the Temple, and yet there was no sign of outside forces entering the pocket space that protected it. She was troubled by what this meant for the Earth. “Okome, something’s wrong here,” she told the Kami. “I can’t say what.”

“That is very troubling,” said Okome. “Please, take shelter.” Joma nodded and made her way to the reinforced shelter at the back of the Temple. Okome stood alone in the grand hall, and calmly moved to the center. He took up his staff and looked to the shadows. Perhaps he was assuming too much, but they seemed the most likely weak point for the enemy to infiltrate. With a tap of his staff, light shined to every nook and cranny in the hall. No hint of presence was betrayed to the light.

A voice echoed through the hall, a laugh. “You really think I’d send them after you?” the voice asked. “You think they’d be qualified?” Okome was tense, and searched the hall for the source of this voice. Soon enough, it became apparent, as some invisible hand swooped down and took hold of Okome. While Okome protested and made attempts to free himself, he was dragged through the various chambers of the Temple and into the reinforced shelter that Joma had gone to for protection. Once inside, the doors of this shelter were locked from the outside, trapping both Okome and Joma inside.

“Is it him?” Joma asked.

“It is,” Okome said grimly. “I only hope Poboy survives the night.”

Poboy heard the commotion of Okome being dragged to the shelter and left his quarters to investigate. He saw Okome being placed into the locked shelter, and quickly made attempts to remove the blockade. Unfortunately, the mystical guards placed on the door were beyond his power. He heard a strange laugh behind him. “I’ll be returning for you some day, bear,” the voice said. The bewildered grizzly kept searching the dark chambers of the Temple for signs of activity. Whatever sorcerer was attacking them must be of great skill and power. He smelled no person, heard no heartbeats, and felt no chi. The air was still, but somehow betrayed an unknown presence.

With no other leads, Poboy began making way to the artifact hall, suspecting that a theft could be underway. As he walked through the halls of the Temple, he began to feel eyes staring daggers into his back. He became paranoid that every step would invite attack from invisible assailants. Indeed, just such an attack came for him before he could enter the grand hall. A sharp claw struck him across his shoulder, emerging from the shadows. Or rather, the shadow itself appeared as a claw and struck him. Poboy recoiled and turned to the corner which assailed him, briefly finding eyes in the shadows. Another claw struck him from behind, causing him to collapse. Poboy got up and searched the area around him. The shadows looked still, but this meant nothing to him anymore. He began to panic as his eyes passed over every corner of the Temple he could see, trying to find another set of eyes in the shadows waiting for him. Several more strikes hit him as he did so, and when he turned to them, he found nothing but darkness.

Taking a deep breath, Poboy calmed himself down. He would get nowhere by panicking in the face of the enemy. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the stares he felt in his skin, and could feel the eyes circling around him. He was sure there were three sets of eyes. One claw struck out at him, and he blocked it. Now more confident, he dodged and parried his way through a series of attacks, as the intruders did everything they could to keep him at bay. He made his way through the grand hall and then into the chambers on the other side, where the artifact hall was located.

Poboy noticed that one of the stares left him, and only two were attacking him. The third must have gone ahead to the artifact chamber. They could be after anything in there, which, in the hands of someone dangerous enough to pull off a theft in the Temple, could spell death for many thousands of lives. He was not about to let that happen. Two claws came from his front, so Poboy flipped over them and dashed ahead to the artifact hall. As claws came for his legs and back, he jumped across the walls and eventually made it through to his destination.

There was definitely another presence in that hall, though he could not ascertain its goal. As it was, he had no way of actually stopping the shadowy assailants, so Poboy worked to devise a strategy to counter that. Then an idea hit him. The third presence attacked from the front, so Poboy dodged to the side. Another shadow came from above him, so he rolled forward. Almost into the third claw, but he kicked up just before it struck his face. As he spun to the ground, he grabbed a necklace, the Eye of Gelato, and place it around his neck. With it, a person was granted sight beyond the physical.

Now equipped to deal with his attackers, Poboy searched the artifact hall. In front of him were not malevolent shadows, but humans wearing dark cloaks, equipped with clawed gauntlets. The bear smiled and attacked one of the intruders, successfully striking their physical body. The true battle began. Poboy was swarmed by the three intruders, who attacked much more viciously now that they didn’t have the anonymity of the shadows guarding them. Poboy was able to keep up with the trifold attack, but noted that they were all individually on the level of Conch’s soldiers, a power typically not seen on Earth. Someone of great power was clearly training them in secret.

One of the intruders broke away again, and went for the Friand Dagger. This surprised Poboy; it didn’t have the raw power of most artifacts in the room, and was mainly used to undo seals. These intruders were planning something more than what he could see, and theories did not come to mind. As far as he knew, this was where the most dangerous items were kept. The Friand Dagger was taken out of the hall. Poboy kept trading blows with his two remaining opponents, and found them surprisingly agile. He tried to get to the side, so that he was no longer between both assailants, but they were able to outmaneuver him.

Growling, Poboy decided he would end things right away. He grabbed the Sword of Linzer and started slashing at his attackers as he swiped his claws at them. Agile as always, they kept dodging his strikes, smirks on their arrogant faces. Once he had lured one of them into the trap, Poboy tapped the guard of his sword, and the delayed slash he stored in that spot released, cutting them through. While the other attacker was shocked by this initial reveal, they moved into another trap. With three taps, Poboy cut this attacker into multiple pieces. He then set the sword down and left.

Searching through the Temple, Poboy found the final intruder in the library. The great jewel which hung on the wall had been removed, and the intruder was busy looking through obscure history tomes. With a tap of the Friand Dagger, the intruder split the volume into two books, one of which Poboy had never seen. Charging up, Poboy managed to get the better of this one, grabbing them by the neck. “Who are you?” Poboy demanded. “What do you want? What’s going on?”

The intruder laughed. “You don’t even know what you’re guarding in this Temple!” they remarked. “The secrets of the Kami are not protected by a pocket space from outsiders; they’re protected by spells from insiders!”

“What does that mean? Tell me what you’re doing here!”

“He asked for our bodies in exchange for power. The price we agreed upon was the key to a certain weapon the Kami of old lost.”

“Who is ‘he’?”

“He is the one who knows all the secrets of the Earth, even things the Kami does not know! He was the one who told Munster how to find those who could tell him about the Dragon Balls! He has far greater plans for the Earth, and this Temple holds the key! That is all I know.”

Poboy was shocked by the implications of what the intruder told him. “Who is ‘he’? Who is your master?”

“His name is Long, and he used to be in your position. The previous apprentice to Kami Okome. He has a certain deal with an Earth Namekian. Yes, Long knows where they are! And they’re all hiding from the Kami. Even if I fail at this one job, his plan will continue to fruition.”

Poboy’s ears rang, and he could not believe the words he heard. Before he could ask any more questions, the intruder started to gag and cough. Poboy released him, and the intruder burned and bubbled, as if being consumed by shadows. Soon enough, they disappeared completely. The bear mourned the senseless loss of this poor soul. He then looked over the strange book uncovered by the Friand Dagger. It was a history of the Earth, detailing the arrival of Namekians to this planet. Later pages described how they had made many of the magical artifacts the Kami would confiscate and collect, that the Kamis of old hadn’t made them as Poboy was told, and how disaster fell on the Earth Namekians with the birth of a demon.

Okome and Joma, having been released by the binding spells on the shelter, entered the library and found Poboy. “Are you alright, Poboy?” Okome asked. He saw the removed jewel and Friand Dagger.

Poboy turned to him and showed him the book he was reading. “Who is Long?” Poboy asked. The apprentice caught the master up on what he had learned. “I see no reason to doubt this intruder’s words, especially when a hidden history book is sitting in my paw. You’ve been lying to me outright about a few things, and hiding who knows what else!”

“…It is true, what the intruder told you,” Okome reluctantly said. “The Earth Namekians were the most skilled forgers of magical weapons in the universe. Kamis of old thought these weapons were too dangerous to leave out in the world and collected them in the Temple.”

“With the consent of their makers?” Poboy asked.

“Sadly, no. My predecessors were often untrusting folks, and thought that their position meant taking active measures to shape the direction of life on Earth for its betterment, and that of its inhabitants. I am not of that mindset. Their actions caused only war, until the seat of the Kami became an enemy of the Earth Namekians. I have researched this ‘demon’ spoken of in the histories, though I cannot say what that truly means. The full details remain lost to outsiders. Until recently, I truly believed the Namekians of this world were all gone, as our history details; I have no idea where they could be located.

“As for Long himself, I had once seen potential in him. He is truly a bright and visionary mind. The problem is that his vision for the world, of a more active Kami, is merely dictatorship for the planet. That’s why I cast him out. Ever since, he has sent attackers like these, though the last time was quite a while ago. However he learned about the Earth Namekians, it can only mean he’s become far more knowledgeable and dangerous than ever.”

Poboy was disgusted by the duplicity of his master. “Knowledge is dangerous? You say you’re not of the mindset to control the Earth by force, but you are willing to control my view of the world through manipulation and lies. Why do you do this to me, your loyal apprentice?”

“I haven’t lied to you! I may have held back some truths, until you were ready, but I have never lied. The Kami’s duty is to protect the Earth at all costs. Long taught me those threats can come from anywhere.”

Poboy was not satisfied with this. He felt he had done everything to prove himself a worthy successor, and had loyally served Okome for years. He risked his life against Conch and the Genmajin. He could not imagine what secrets the Kami held onto that were too terrible for him to know. What he did know was that if Okome did not fully trust him, he could not fully trust Okome, either.

A call came in on Poboy’s phone. “Hello?” the bear answered.

“Poboy, I’m so glad you were available!” Svenex said excitedly on the other line. “The world could very well fall apart if things get out of hand!”

“Please, calm down and explain yourself.” Poboy feared this concerned Long’s plans.

“Ok…It’s just a touchy situation. We’re going to try to keep her presence a secret. A long-lost political figure from Silico has suddenly reappeared. I read all the reports, too; I saw the records and the autopsy report. She’s supposed to be dead. For now, she’s laying low, and we’re going to help keep it that way, but rumors will spread. If the world knew about her, it could really mess up our plans for a unified world government.”

“I don’t think I understand what you’re saying.”

“Neither do I, yet. I’ll figure it out and call you when we have more details and a plan.” Svenex sighed. “I hope our friends get back home soon. If this woman is back to life, then she had to be wished back with Dragon Balls, and there’s only so many people who would make that wish. Anyway, talk to you later.” Svenex hung up.

Poboy turned to tell Okome what Svenex said, but Okome raised a hand. “I heard, and after checking on things, I see what she means. Things could certainly become…eventful.” Poboy could tell he knew more about what was happening, and seeing that look on his face now, a look he had seen so many times, felt like a real twisting of the knife to Poboy. The Earth held many secrets, more than he knew. But none that he would not know, no matter what Okome wanted.

#dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #fan fiction #manga #anime

Dragon Ball 'Beta' Chapter 15: The Emperor's Last Dance

The mining colony Torta and Dragon landed on was deserted. The people living there had excavated all the planet had of the rare mineral they were assigned to excavate, and after years of economic collapse and environmental fallout, they were forced to leave. The land was starting to recover after a decade without industrial activity, with patches of greener grass peeking through the dead clumps, and a few fresh trees in the forests. Old heavy machinery sat rusting in the breeze.

“The Saiyans have no interest in this world,” Dragon said when they landed. “That’s why they sent me here when I was a child. By the time I arrived, the mining operations were long dead, and the economy was well into decline. But I don’t remember it as a world in collapse. The people here were warm and friendly. They had regrets about how they left things here, what they didn’t provide to their children, but they also took responsibility for it. They tried finding other ways of living here. In the end, it didn’t work out. Lucky for them, crossing the stars wasn’t a pipe dream.”

“They sound like good people,” Torta said.

“Yeah, they were. I want to remember that feeling while we train, what it means to keep climbing no matter how far down you dig yourself.”

Torta smiled. “Then let’s get to it!”

The two spent the next two months of their lives after the defeat of Jimaca and Ube training tirelessly with the Devil's Tincture. They scouted the area, and found that life had rebounded enough for them to find food. The river had clean water flowing through it. Rejuvenation was visible everywhere, making for a great backdrop for their efforts. Every day, the warriors used two drops of the potion, pushing themselves as hard as they could.

One night, as they ate dinner, Torta leaned back and sighed. “Every time I hear about your life,” he said, “I feel a little…sillier? Less serious? I mean, after everything you’ve been through, you still look for something positive in your Saiyan identity, something to reinvent, and you chase after your own dreams.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s life,” said Dragon. “You take what you got and try to make something you want out of it, and get rid of the bad stuff.”

“See, I get that. In my head. But I never had anything that…impactful happen to me, I don’t think. When my parents moved us out of Knuckle, they just said we were moving; I didn’t understand the political stuff until later, not that we were particular targets or victims. My parents dying when I was so young was really hard, but I don’t train like this because of a virus. I just…I’ve always loved martial arts and wanted to be the best. My friends keep looking to me as a leader or something, I guess because I always manage to be the strongest, and I don’t get it. What they see in me, or why I would be the best. Regal has her mission from birth; Gaita’s a sweetheart put in charge of one of the most powerful weapons ever built; Scallop wants to be free of her mom; you have your whole rebellion thing. And all of you love martial arts as much as me! I just…I kinda feel bad sometimes, being in the position I’m in.”

“Hey, now! Don’t get caught up in your head. I’m happy to have you fighting beside me, and I can’t have you slacking off. Sometimes life doesn’t work out the way you think makes sense. Just because I have a big, dramatic story doesn’t mean anything when you work just as hard as me. You can’t compare problems or experiences like that; we all feel whatever we feel, and do whatever we do in response. Whatever you feel, whatever you’ve been through, you want to be the best. And that’s enough. I bet I’d be the same way, if life were kinder to me. And if you’re still caught up on all that, think of it this way: If boring, normal you is doing so well compared to me, then I need to step up my game, because clearly this much is less than what you think I’m capable of. Which means you’ll work even harder to keep up.”

Torta paused a moment, and then chuckled softly. “You really are better than me at being a leader, at least. That’s some speech.”

Dragon shrugged knowingly. The two laughed.

After a long day of training, Torta set down his bulldozer piled high with the heaviest metal on the planet, falling to his side and feeling the warm burn of his muscles. Dragon set his load down as well and sat, whistling at the sweet feeling of his muscles getting stronger. A few minutes passed, and Torta felt good enough to move again. He got up and went to the ship to get some food and water for him and Dragon. As he walked, he considered how fortunate they were to have faced so little opposition in this time. A group of Demon Clan fighters came to steal their ball once, but they didn’t have a powerful officer backing them. The Saiyans didn’t bother them at all.

Torta returned with the provisions, handing Dragon his share. “How do you feel about challenging Daikon right now?” he asked.

“Maybe I could take him on as a Super Saiyan,” Dragon said. “Not so sure about what happens when he goes beyond that.”

“Yeah, him being able to go…Super Super Saiyan? Is a problem.”

“How about Super Saiyan 2?”

“I defer to the ranking Saiyan. I guess we can find out if Daikon calls it anything when we fight him.”

Dragon chuckled. “What about you? You think you can handle our combined power in a Dagwood?”

“I don’t want to rely on that anymore. It leaves my friends vulnerable, and anyways, it’s supposed to be a desperation tactic. I’ve been using it every fight, and it hasn’t worked since the first time I used it.”

A light streaked across the sky, and soon the familiar sensation within it drew the attention of Torta and Dragon. They traded glances, immediately recognizing the chi of the occupant of that Attack Ball. Their big test had just arrived, crashing into the soil a couple hundred feet from them. From out of this Attack Ball emerged Daikon, the Super Saiyan Emperor, once more in his strangely calm Super Saiyan form. He had a rather annoyed expression on his face. He turned to Torta and Dragon. “Look, you worms,” he sneered, “things are not going well for me these days. The Demon Clan controls five balls, and I have intel saying Malacol is personally retrieving a sixth. I really need that ball you’re holding onto, and honestly, I’m not happy to see you pathetic fools again.”

Dragon charged in right away, attacking hard from the start. Daikon blocked the strike, surprised with the power of it. He smiled. “Well, maybe one good thing happened today!” the emperor remarked. “You two may have improved more than I expected. Killing you now would really lift my spirits!”

Torta moved to join Dragon in battle. “Stay back!” Dragon ordered. “This is my fight! I’m the only one who gets to fight it!”

Torta protested. “But come on—!”

“Silence, human!” Daikon ordered. “Saiyan pride is the most powerful force in the universe! A real friend would respect that.”

Dragon and Daikon traded blows for a while, the impact of their bodies ringing across the planet. Though Daikon was not happy to see anyone rise to this level of strength, he was happy to have such a fierce battle. Dragon continued to pressure the emperor with his power, pleased with his performance at this stage. Holding out his hand, Dragon charged up a powerful energy bomb, shining with its smooth surface. “Power Pearl!” he called out, firing it at Daikon, who blocked it.

Once the smoke cleared, Daikon smiled. “I haven’t felt that kind of power for a long time. Maybe that robot girl’s attack?”

“Then it’s time for me to get serious,” said Dragon with a smirk of his own. Revving up his power even higher, he charged in at Daikon and began to pummel him within an inch of his life. Daikon was shocked to see Dragon display such raw power over him, and soon his smile disappeared.

After bursting an explosive wave to gain distance, Daikon scowled and transformed into his transcended state. “Yeah, you definitely prove that tail removal and banishment are worthless measures. I should have killed you when you were born!” He charged in and overpowered Dragon with his newfound strength. “But I guess my mistake lets me test my limits!” Daikon’s full power in this transcended state was even more impressive than Dragon remembered it. Having to contend with the barrage of attacks himself felt so much more intense than feeling the chi wash off of Daikon when he fought Spats. He was overwhelmed by the force he had to somehow repel.

With a grunt, Dragon refocused himself and punched Daikon across the face. He charged a pair of Dragon’s Fangs over his fists and slashed at the emperor with these sharp claws. Daikon chuckled. “You’re an interesting opponent, that’s for sure!” Daikon remarked, noting that Dragon was burning through his strength fast; he could practically see the chi roll off his body.

Once Dragon had charged enough chi, he kicked away from Daikon and raised a hand to the sky. Looking up, Daikon saw a cloud of chi hanging above them. “Rain God!” Dragon yelled out, dropping a massive and steady flow of chi blasts down over Daikon’s head. The density of this rain meant Daikon would be hit no matter how he tried to dodge it.

So Daikon didn’t dodge it. After taking a few blasts, he growled and fired a stream of blasts from his hands, clashing with and neutralizing the cloud. Once he did that, not a single blast from Dragon’s Rain God made it to the ground below. “Nice technique,” Daikon said with a snarl. Dragon was crestfallen, though not completely surprised. With renewed anger, Daikon flew into Dragon and went all-out, drilling all of his power into Dragon’s body. Dragon recoiled in pain and horror, starting to feel that there was no hope of victory at this moment. The battle for his people and pride came all too soon.

This being the case, Dragon concentrated all his power and life energy into an energy bomb. Maybe he couldn’t figure out how Torta used Dagwood, but he could use the principles of Regal’s Seraphim. He was not about to let Daikon leave his home planet alive. Dragon held out his hand, leveling the bomb at Daikon, and yelled out “Divine Fury!” But before he could even fire it, Daikon had moved behind him and stabbed Dragon through his side with his bare hand. The energy dissipated from Dragon’s attack, and he coughed up blood.

“I’m not taking another hit like that, after the first time,” Daikon said. He then pummeled Dragon, kicked him into the ground, and rained chi blasts into the crater.

Torta stared with anticipation at the crater, but he could not feel chi from Dragon. It had taken all of his will to stay out of the battle, and now he felt like that much more a fool for confusing respect for his friend’s wishes with doing what was best for him. Exploding with anger, Torta flew at Daikon and attacked with all his might. Daikon was surprised to see Torta fight with such strength. He frowned. “Earth is supposed to be a planet of backwater weaklings,” the emperor remarked. “If that race can produce you, then I’ll have to go exterminate humanity after I get my wish!”

The threat goaded Torta even more, and he pressed his offensive more aggressively. His mind went through all the reasons he had to win this fight. There were so many dead from the attacks by the Silico armies, Conch’s invasion, and the Genmajin that needed to be revived. Spats sacrificed herself just to give them one more chance at this mission. Dragon laid in a grave below his feet. And Daikon just reminded him that this war between space tyrants was bound to find his home one day. All of this purpose flowed through his fists as Torta did everything he could to drive Daikon back. The emperor did not look at all worried with the battle, despite being annoyed he had this much of one. With a grunt, Torta fired off a powerful Club directly into Daikon’s chest.

Daikon grabbed Torta by the throat and laughed at him. “No matter what you do,” Daikon said, “you could never be stronger than a Saiyan! We’re naturally obsessed with battle and power, we rebound more powerfully from death, and we hide many great and terrible transformations! We are the ultimate warrior race! You’re just a lowly human; clever wit has gotten you quite far, but it will never be enough!”

Torta kicked Daikon between the legs, earning him a release from the choke. Torta shook his head. “None of that makes you any better than a common crook,” Torta said. He focused his mind and took a stance. “You’re going to pay for everything you’ve done to your countless victims, and to my friends.”

Clashing once more, Torta did everything he could to keep Daikon on the defensive. He fired off a Double Stack, and then distracted Daikon from their return trip with a Steak Bomb. He tried shooting point blank Sliders through Daikon’s chest and torso, unable to penetrate deeper than the skin. He pushed his speed as much as he could, whipping around Daikon to keep him off balance and defending from all sides. Growling with anger, Daikon slammed Torta in the stomach, stopping him in his tracks. He then began to beat Torta nearly to death. “You’re always going to be inferior to me! Everyone and everything is inferior to me! After I kill you, I’ll go kill Malacol, and then there won’t be anyone above me! Then I’ll go around the universe and make sure everyone knows where they stand!”

A final hammer strike knocked Torta on top of Dragon. He struggled to move as Daikon charged up a powerful energy bomb and dropped it over the crater. Like the one used at the end of their previous battle, this bomb descended slowly. In that time, Daikon flew through Torta and Dragon’s ship, retrieved the Dragon Ball, and took it back to his ship, which flew off the planet.

The massive burst of energy enveloped Torta, and the waves of heat and power washed over the land for miles around. All the newly regrown plants burned away, along with the animals in them. A shockwave rushed around the planet multiple times. Above Torta’s limp body, everything was destruction.

#dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #fan fiction #anime #manga

Dragon Ball 'Beta' Chapter 14: The Demon's Shadow

The Rainbow Stocking had landed on one of the larger moons of a gas giant in the system it orbited, to better stay off of enemy radar. Since the moon had water on it, Regal was satisfied with it as a base of operation, focusing even more on her training. Scallop was relieved to finally not be floating through space; she was much more accustomed to the dangers of such activities.

Though it was a difficult climb, Regal insisted that she progress her gravity training on a weekly basis. She increased from 160G to 170G after her first week, and then decided to lower the jumps to 5G at a time. At these extremes, the strain of increases in gravity were exponential in nature; without the added push of the Devil's Tincture, her progress was slowed, and with this regimen, she pushed as fast as she ever had. Scallop complained the whole way, always a step behind Regal, but she managed to keep up enough.

Two months passed thus. Every now and then, Regal and Scallop would check the signals from the Dragon Balls, and watch as they were uncovered and then stolen from one team after another. Seeing the crisscrossing raids was a bit more fun when they did not have to participate. A couple hunter squads from the Demon Clan were sent after the duo, which surprised the heroes, but they were easily dispatched. The Saiyans steered clear of them.

Regal meditated in the intense 200G chamber, her body intensely resisting the weight to hold her pose after the fourth hour. Scallop was standing, at least halfway while bent over, and doing what she could to practice. She was determined to stand up straight and walk in another couple days.

Regal slowly rose to her feet and stretched. She looked over at Scallop. “You’re beginning to make faster progress,” she said. “Finally.” Scallop scoffed as Regal started slowly jogging around the chamber.

After a few minutes, Regal went to the control panel and turned the gravity off. “Let’s go outside and spar,” she invited Scallop.

Scallop wiped sweat from her forehead. “Sure thing,” she agreed. This was a rare break from the gravity outside of sleep time.

The two stepped out into the thin lunar air. The landscape was sparse, mostly rocks and dust littered with impact craters, but some moss did grow on the rocks on the shore of the river. There were no clouds in the dark daytime skies. Overhead, the marbled clouds of the red-and-orange gas giant dominated the view.

Regal took her stance. “Are you ready?”

Scallop took her own stance. “You’re always so impatient.”

Regal charged in and attacked Scallop fiercely, taking an early offensive. She continued to press her strength, ratcheting it up as far as she could go. Scallop did everything she could to defend against the barrage, but like usual, Regal was a class above her in power. Keeping up a guard was the best she could hope for. The power Regal was putting behind her blows was incredible, so Scallop patted herself on the back for being able to withstand them.

The two broke apart, landing where they started. “How was that?” Regal asked.

“I haven’t felt power like that since fighting Daikon,” Scallop said. “But I don’t want to get your hopes up. I didn’t fight Daikon in that second transformation you mentioned he had. Malacol is still going to be a challenge.”

Regal smiled. “She always will be, but I’ll keep fighting. She had my mother killed and drove the Grand Elder from her home, subjugated Namek, and she’s been gunning to kill you, her own daughter.”

Scallop looked to Regal. “You have a lot to lose, huh?”

“What do you fight for? You said you have your own dreams to achieve with the Dragon Balls.”

“At this point, I just want to be free.”

The two turned and went back into the ship. “I want to spend a few more days at 200G,” Regal said.

Scallop nodded along, glancing around the command center as she entered. Her eyes passed along the radar screen, and she became alarmed. “Look at this!” she called to Regal. Five signals had converged on one another. Only theirs and Torta’s balls were left in the open. “It’s a guarantee that someone is going to be coming for our ball very soon. They don’t have a lot of officers left, so it’s going to be a really big gun who comes after us now.”

A meteor shower started raining down on the moon. Regal paused to watch it, secretly wishing for victory against Malacol. “Get some water and back in the training room.”

“Of course.”

In the smattering of fresh craters, a single person craft sat. It had the distinctive aesthetic of the Demon Clan. The door opened, and from it emerged an imposing, confident Namekian warrior. Just as she had first done so many years ago, when she started this war, she wiped her antennae back on her head so that they stood up, as the horns of her demonic crown.

Just as Regal and Scallop readied themselves for the hammer fall that was turning the gravity back up in the training chamber, Scallop felt a terrible and familiar shiver down her spine. Focusing all her senses, she found the most distinct and intimidating presence in the universe approach her, for the first time in months. She froze, and became unaware of anything else but that presence.

Regal saw this change in Scallop. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Scallop did not answer. “What’s wrong?” Then she felt a powerful evil chi, released as a greeting and warning to the world. Regal was thunderstruck, having only felt that chi one other time in her life, just as she was born.

Scallop rushed out, leaving Regal behind. Scallop emerged from the Rainbow Stocking after ensuring the forcefield was active, and faced the calm yet imperious face of her mother, Malacol. Malacol sneered in condescension. “Where’s the real fighter?” she asked.

“I’ll never give you the Dragon Ball!” Scallop declared.

Sighing, Malacol took a deep breath and yelled, so that she could be heard for miles. “REGAL! IF YOU DO NOT TURN OFF THAT FORCEFIELD AND FIGHT ME, I’LL LASSO THE SHIP WITH CHI, THROW THE WHOLE THING IN THIS SYSTEM’S STAR, COOK YOU ALIVE, AND THEN HAVE MY TECHNICIANS TAKE THEIR TIME DISABLING THE FORCEFIELD! I AM THE DEMON QUEEN, AND I’LL NOT BE MADE TO WAIT!”

The forcefield was stripped away, and out from the Rainbow Stocking came Regal, the fabled Savior of Namek. She held up the Dragon Ball she stole from Limpet. “The winner can claim this,” she said, dropping it to the ground. As she watched the smile creep across Malacol’s face, Regal remembered Limpet’s prophecy of death, and could not help but let her insecurities take hold.

Malacol looked over Regal as she approached. “You look just like your mother,” she said with a knowing smile.

Regal shivered. “You don’t have any underlings to kill me with, like you did my mother.”

Malacol laughed, growing in intensity until she doubled over. She wiped a tear from her eye. “It was not some common cannon fodder that killed your mother! I did it myself!”

Regal was shocked, though she had always suspected it in the back of her mind. She felt the flames of fury fill every fiber of muscle in her body, flowing into her fists. Calling out in primal anger, Regal charged in at Malacol, fighting her with everything she had. With the power she now possessed, Regal expected she could force Daikon to transcend Super Saiyan, and hoped that would be enough. Malacol kept up her defense, and Regal drove her back. Scallop was dumbstruck at the level of fight she was seeing, especially to see anyone keeping up with her mother.

The first moment of Regal’s life kept flashing through her head as she attacked Malacol, with her mind’s eye zeroing in on the moment of her mother’s death, her attention on the subtle clues that showed Malacol killing her. The rage continued to pour into Regal’s fists, and it wouldn’t end no matter how many times she threw them.

Through her anger, Regal could not see how calmly Malacol was blocking her strikes. After a while, Malacol caught her fist. “I’ve had enough of a taste,” she said, and struck Regal in the gut, taking her breath. Returning the favor, Malacol beat and tore into Regal, so hard and fast that Regal couldn’t keep up. She laughed. “Melodica was an idealist, too! Keeping her head in the clouds cost her her life. As a Namekian, I understand your feelings, and how you have to keeping gunning for my head. But you, a bratty child, gnashing and wailing over a parent you didn’t even know—it’s all meaningless noise!”

While Regal recoiled from that insult, she was hit by the most devastating punch of her life, launching her into the ground. Malacol descended to the crater. “I want to fight you, not your mother. Melodica never fought for herself, and my chance to face that warrior is gone. I won’t be robbed of my battle with you. The Demon Queen needs to overcome the hero.”

Regal struggled to get up as Malacol approached, ready to continue her assault. Scallop rushed in, ready to confront her mother. Malacol dodged the first kick, continuing to avoid every blow levied at her by Scallop. Though Malacol was surprised to see the progress Scallop had made as a fighter, she was still disappointed in her, as both a fighter and a daughter. She was too proud to be struck by a betrayer. With a single strike, Malacol deflected Scallop, sending her flying far across the moon. She turned back to Regal. “I would have preferred if the Grand Elder recognized me as a fellow elder,” she mused. “If she had, I could contact her across the cosmos after I gain immortality and let her know I’m coming to kill her!”

Once more feeling true fury, Regal stood up and attacked Malacol. “You’ll never get close to the Grand Elder!” she promised. Though still feeling shaky from the previous exchange, which made Limpet’s prophecy feel real, Regal pushed through and tried to return everything Malacol had done to her. Sighing in disappointment, Malacol caught Regal’s fist and slapped her away. She charged up a powerful energy wave over her fist and fired it into Regal. Regal barely put up a guard in time, but it was not enough, and the massive stream of chi burst over her.

Scallop, charging back in to support Regal, was caught by the neck and thrown to the ground by Malacol, who then drove her deep into the rock with a powerful kick. Malacol emerged from the hole. “I’m not interested in killing the bodyguard of a washed-up monk, either,” Malacol said. “Namek is in the palm of my hand, and soon every Namekian world will belong to me. I need to overcome Namek’s hero to become the Demon Queen these worlds deserve. Fight me!”

Regal shot a massive Jophiel as greeting to this challenge. She charged in as Malacol deflected this blast, once more pushing her fears to the background as she attacked. “I’ll never let you make Namek the center of an oppressive empire!” she roared. Malacol smiled; though the fight was just as easy for her as before, she was finally facing the warrior she cast in her life story as the Hero of Namek. This victory would make her the true Demon Queen. This was a trial she needed to overcome to achieve her self-image, after so many years of war.

“You don’t know anything about Namek!” Malacol roared back. “You don’t know what the Grand Elder and Melodica did! They told you I was born evil, but I wasn’t! I was born with great power, the culmination of the supreme Namekian heritage! I just wanted to use that power to help Namek. I trained as one of the Grand Elder’s warriors and followed the path.

“But then I learned that Namekians are persecuted on some worlds. No matter what they did, how much they assimilated to the local culture and reached out peacefully, the natives only saw them as invaders. I wanted to use my strength to defend them! But the Grand Elder refused! She offered aid to these worlds, return trips to Namek if it was too much, but the elders on these worlds refused. The Grand Elder was pleased by this! Their adherence to an idiotic mission! She said universal harmony wasn’t the plan, just greater understanding of life for Namekians. I pleaded with Melodica to come with me, but she agreed with the Grand Elder. She called it a personal vendetta!

“Those stupid elders didn’t know what was best for their tribes; it’s only righteous that I offer my aid! Cowardly saints like the Grand Elder and Melodica doomed our siblings to terror, and kept the universe from knowing that we are the supreme race. So I went to a troubled world, the Namekians there under siege from the military of that planet. I killed every attacking soldier and flattened their capitols. They would be sure never to cross a Namekian ever again.

“Then Melodica showed up and attacked me for my actions. She won that day and left me in the dirt, calling me a demon. So when I woke up, I became the demon who would save Namek from those peace-loving fools! I started my Demon Clan, formed my army, and took Namek.” Slamming Regal into the bedrock, Malacol laughed. “I am the one truly fighting to protect Namek!”

Regal scowled, kicking Malacol off. “You’re fighting for your own twisted ideology of supremacy, not Namek!” she said.

Malacol knocked Regal back once more. “Then you’re not fighting for Namek, either, by that logic. You’re a fraud, fighting for fairy tales of idyllic pastures your mother passed down to you. You don’t know Namek; your home is some backwater boulder orbiting an unremarkable star. You’re an outsider, claiming justice for a place you don’t belong to.”

Regal knew Malacol was wrong; simply living away from Namek did not mean she wasn’t allowed to fight for her people, or claim to be one of them. She rushed back in with a vicious attack on Malacol, and as she did so, memories flashed to her mind of the day before she departed Earth, when she talked with the Grand Elder and called the Earth her home planet. Caught off guard by this memory, Regal flinched, and Malacol chuckled. She backhanded Regal. “You will die, and your death will make me a true Demon Queen,” Malacol said.

She approached for the final blow when Scallop shot back out of the ground and attacked once more. Malacol dodged her daughter once more and growled. She kicked Scallop into the air and followed, delivering a withering full-force attack that made Scallop’s insides quake as if liquefying. She spat on Scallop. “Your very existence is a stain on my legacy,” she hissed. “You won’t get another chance to interrupt my moment.”

This time, Regal intervened to help Scallop, hitting Malacol in the back with an Uriel. While Malacol was briefly surprised by this attack, Scallop slapped her mother across the face, feeling satisfied for the first time in her entire life. “You’re the stain!” Scallop told her mother with a wry smile. “I won’t stop fighting until I’m free of you!”

The Demon Queen screamed in anger as she was assaulted on both sides, one by a traitor and the other by a fool. She easily blocked and dodged all the strikes sent her way, and viciously beat both of her opponents without any mercy. After knocking Regal away a moment, Malacol drew her hand back and pierced it through Scallop’s heart. Regal cried out in shock as Malacol tossed Scallop to the ground. “Setting Scallop free makes me a good mother, doesn’t it?” she asked.

Regal froze for a moment, filled with intense anger at the death of her friend and symbol of hope, and terrified that losing that “hope” meant Limpet’s prophecy was nigh. Grunting to snap herself out of it, Regal charged back in at Malacol, ready to avenge Scallop and win this fight for her. Malacol played defense for a while against this Regal, but was left as unsatisfied as before. Having defeated her as the Hero of Namek, Malacol wanted to defeat that hero for the warrior she was. Watching Regal flail so passionately over the death of a lump like Scallop disappointed her. She grabbed Regal in a choke. “You are a worthless piece of trash,” Malacol told her, “putting up so much effort over a mother and planet you do not know, a failed leader of a failed ideology, and a traitorous waste of space.” She threw Regal to the ground. “You’ll die today.”

Regal charged back up at Malacol. “You don’t understand anything!” she yelled. “Not the Grand Elder’s feelings, or mine for my mother and Namek, or Scallop’s yearning for freedom from you! You are an empty vessel for anger and hatred, and you don’t have a right to say anything to me!” Malacol dodged all these insults, just as she dodged all of Regal’s strikes, and realized that Regal was already fighting for everything she felt was worth fighting for. Regal loaded her fist with all of her chi and life energy, and threw this Seraphim at Malacol with all her might; if she could make Daikon spit blood two months ago, she could surely kill Malacol now.

Malacol caught the Seraphim in her hand and felt the burst of energy blow her arm off. “Wow, that’s impressive!” Malacol admitted, regenerating the lost arm. With a final exertion, she used her sharp nails to cut open Regal across her torso, from her shoulder to her hip. Regal gasped in pain before falling to the ground.

Though wanting more from the moment, Malacol walked to the Dragon Ball and claimed it for her victory. “Daikon’s going to get the last outstanding ball,” she remarked. “He’ll bring it to Sadla. That’s just a few days away from here, isn’t it?” As Malacol walked back to her ship to leave, Regal bled into the dirt and wondered why she had to suffer the same fate as her mother.

#dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #fan fiction #anime #manga

Dragon Ball 'Beta' Chapter 13: A Sister's Loss

Puttee loaded Spats into the medical machine and set it to run basic life support. Though unable to heal her and awaken whoever was left inside her sister’s body, Puttee entrusted this machine with the basic maintenance Spats’s braindead body needed to stay alive.

Gaita followed Puttee in and helped set Spats in the machine. She was happy to help Puttee find a way to heal Spats, but dark clouds started forming in her head. She was worried that Puttee wasn’t really going to mourn Spats until it became clear she was never coming back; for as long as she could attempt to heal her nerves, and revive a new version of Spats, that couldn’t happen.

“Can you set our course, Gaita?” Puttee asked.

Gaita nodded and went to the controls. They had a target ball about a week away. “What will you miss most about Spats?” she asked as she opened up the flight map.

Puttee paused a second. “The balance. We always complimented each other, in every situation.”

The ship took to the air and shot out into space, headed out towards the next destination. Puttee used the medical machine to examine the nature and layout of Spats’s bioengineering. Gaita looked at the sample jar of the Devil's Tincture that Puttee requested. Symbolic, given how Puttee was about to work herself to death. “What’s your favorite memory of…?” Gaita trailed off, seeing that Puttee wasn’t listening. She was paying too much attention to the growing schematics of Spats’s bioengineered body. The last bit of sister time they’d really get, one genius teaching another. Gaita wished she had the brain to appreciate that, too, if only to get to know Spats better.

Hours passed. “Come on, Puttee, seriously,” Gaita said. “It’s dinner time.”

“Fine,” Puttee said, still writing and drawing in her notebook. Gaita pulled her to the sitting area and put food in front of her. Puttee set down her pen and picked up her spoon, studying her notes so far.

“What was Legging like?” Gaita asked.

Puttee put her notebook down. “I barely knew her, really. I was three when she died. I remember her being warm, funny, and standing tall. Spats told me stuff about her growing up, and made her sound like a mythic Earth mother. I guess Spats died giving us a chance to learn what she’s really like.” Gaita smiled.

Puttee spent a few days studying the data from the medical machine, and then went to work upgrading Gaita. Having fully mapped out and appreciated the genius of Spats’s bioengineered power distribution system, Puttee had found a way to rewire Gaita’s systems so that she would be able to pull out even more power. In this way, Gaita was made even more into a mirror of Puttee’s lost sister, and was let in on that last bit of sister time she and Puttee had. With her new Machine Mutant capabilities, Puttee could simply program Gaita’s body to rewire itself, saving them both time.

A week later, they arrived at their destination. The planet they arrived on was covered in cities, and signs of war were everywhere. The particular city they landed outside of looked very large, fit for millions, but it was abandoned and in ruins. In the fields outside the city was a graveyard of war machines and spaceships. Smoke still hung in the air. “Where’s the Dragon Ball?” Gaita asked.

Puttee checked the radar. “The reading is coming from a deep underground cavern, in the middle of a massive groundwater lake,” she said.

Gaita smiled. “I’ll get my swimsuit.”

Before Gaita could step back into the ship, a voice called out across the plain. “Spats, is that you?!” Gaita and Puttee turned to attention, scanning the fields around them with great anticipation. Gaita spotted her first, a strange woman with reptilian features and jewel-like growths over thick bio-armor. The woman flew towards them fast, landing in front of Gaita. Giving her a closer look, the woman sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You reminded me of someone I know.”

“Who are you?” Puttee demanded. “How do you know Spats?”

The woman studied Puttee’s features, and then looked back at Gaita, and realized her mistake was not far from the mark. “Oh, wow, I didn’t realize…I’m Jockey, a Frost Demon looking to end a certain war. I met Spats about two months ago while intervening on another planet like this, ravaged by war. We only spent a day together, but even still, I feel her friendship means the world to me. I hope I can meet her again under happier skies.”

Puttee and Gaita were stunned. “You…you’re her friend?” Puttee asked, tearing up.

“Yes,” said Jockey. “I take it she didn’t have many; one of many things we share, I would imagine.”

“There’s…there’s…” Puttee covered her eyes and turned away.

“Look, there’s something you should know,” Gaita said. “Come inside.” Jockey followed Puttee and Gaita into the ship, becoming increasingly concerned. Puttee took a seat, and Gaita led Jockey to the medical machine. Jockey covered her mouth. “Her body persists, but she…she fried her nerves, and there’s nothing left.”

Jockey cried. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know…she really did it…”

“What do you mean?” Gaita asked.

“While we were fighting together,” Jockey explained, “she used…whatever she used to fight the general, and I could tell it was killing her. She did it because I was too scared to fight for myself. I stepped up after that, but… This is exactly how I expected her to die in battle. A hero.” Gaita was stunned, turning to Puttee, who was marveling at Jockey.

Jockey sat with the Silico sisters and told them about her time with Spats. “Your sister,” she concluded, “gave me the courage to embrace my power instead of running away from it. I’m determined to master it all one day, so I can finish my mission. Now, my toast of victory when it’s all over will be in her honor.”

“You really knew her…” Puttee said, still reeling. “I left her, and…but she still had a friend, for a day.”

Gaita quietly realized that it was Jockey who turned Spats around and got her walking on a good path again. “I’m sure you gave Spats as much as she gave you,” Gaita said. “Thanks.”

“Anyway, you wanna stay and talk more?” Puttee asked. “I’d love to tell you more about her.”

“I’m sorry, but not right now,” said Jockey. “I know why you are on this planet. You can’t waste time hunting a Dragon Ball. I can help you retrieve it, to save time.”

“That’s a kind offer, but it’s in an underground lake,” Gaita explained. “We don’t have a rebreather to offer you.”

“I don’t need one,” Jockey said. “A little time not breathing won’t kill me. My people can survive all but the most grievous of injuries and live in the vacuum of space. Drowning in a lake is all the same to me.”

While Gaita marveled at that idea, Puttee noted some bleeding on Jockey’s arm. “Let me get that for you,” she said, taking a tissue to wipe it off. “I can sew it up for you, if you want.”

“It’s a minor cut,” Jockey declined. Her communicator went off, emitting an eerie signal. “That’s another battle I need to attend to. Seems my brother is going after a trading planet next. I’ll have to take my leave, but I hope this isn’t our last meeting.”

“Of course not!” said Puttee. “We should definitely meet up again!” She walked Jockey to the door, and Gaita joined them. Once outside, Jockey took to the air and waved one final time in farewell before flying off.

Gaita sighed warmly. “This was an amazing surprise.”

“It was,” said Puttee, folding the tissue up and putting it in her pocket.

Puttee was not a fan of blood or dirty napkins. Gaita gave a suspicious look. “What are you—?”

“We should get going after that Dragon Ball fast!” Puttee said. “I’ll get my swimsuit, too.” She sneered at Gaita. “I’m sorry we won’t quite match.”

Gaita knew Puttee had some secret thing going on, something she couldn’t pin down, and decided to let it go for the moment. She went back into the ship and changed alongside Puttee.

Once they changed, Gaita flew the two of them over to the location of the lake. With some seismic measurements, Gaita determined a good place to start digging. Puttee was placed far away so Gaita could fly up in the air and use an energy bomb to make a massive crater. “Nice!” Puttee said, clapping. “A surface lake, so you don’t flood the place while you dig into the groundwater!”

Concentrating some energy over her hands, Gaita began to spin and drill down into the bottom of the crater. Within a hundred feet down, she got into the groundwater reservoir, its intense cold and high mineral content giving it a unique and soothing feel. Gaita focused her eyes in the dark and headed further down still, towards the deep cavern that held her quarry.

Fifteen minutes later, a Demon Clan ship descended from the skies over the still-pooling surface lake. Puttee looked to it with fear, unsure what this next enemy would bring. Out from the ship came a rather tall Namekian, wiping back her upturned antennae with odd pride. This Namekian gave Puttee a calm stare before shaking her head. She reached into a pocket and removed a breathing device, which she placed over her mouth. She then flew into the lake, taking a moment to figure out how to navigate. Puttee took out her radio and called to Gaita. “Demon Clan, six o’clock!” There was too much interference for the call to go through.

Gaita continued to swim through the lake, scanning the walls to make a map of the caverns. She noted the garbled radio static in her ears and turned the water behind her. Soon, she found the Demon Clan officer headed her way and hugged the wall, hoping the dark and lack of chi would hide her. As the Namekian enemy swam through the waters, she had her eyes closed, and focused instead on her sharp hearing. She happened to be the most practiced among the Demon Clan in locating things by echo and reverberation. She noted a rather strangely shaped formation along the wall, and in focusing on it, detected faint electrical sounds.

Gaita felt crestfallen as the Namekian enemy swam in her direction. With a sigh, she kicked off the wall and began to circle around the enemy, hoping to overwhelm her senses with the all-around stimuli. After making a ball of crisscrossing wakes, Gaita charged up and fired a Chelsea at the Demon Clan officer. With incredible speed, the Namekian parried the energy wave and followed it to Gaita, tackling her and driving her upwards. They crashed into and pushed through bedrock until they emerged in the crater lake once more, and then into the open air.

The Namekian removed her rebreather. “You are a fool for underestimating the sharpest senses in the cosmos!” she said. “The name’s Abalone, Malacol’s most trusted advisor. You must be one of the upstarts making a mess of the Demon-Saiyan War. You and your friends have picked off a lot of my fellow officers, and a few on the other side. You won’t be able to do that anymore.” Abalone began her assault, a calm intensity in her movements. Gaita was able to guard fairly easily, and decided to test the limits of her new power rating. She was worried that she was going into the fight without any absorbed energy, but also knew that her current power was far greater than she expected.

Once Gaita began going all-out, Abalone was pushed to the defensive. Though Abalone held onto the confident gleam in her eyes for a moment, she lost more and more of that confidence with every powerful blow. Gaita smiled, estimating her current power rating as a match for Torta’s most recent Dagwood attack. Throwing Abalone by the leg high into the air, Gaita charged and fired a Hessian at her chest. Instead of seeing the beam pierce the demon’s chest, Abalone disappeared.

“Is that all you have to offer?” Abalone asked Gaita, from behind her. With a gasp, Gaita turned, only to be kicked into the ground. Abalone laughed quietly. “Congratulations on attaining basic competency as a warrior! However, that is not enough to defeat the likes of me, let alone the Demon Queen of Namek!” She cracked her knuckles. “It’s time to get serious!” Charging in with renewed strength, Abalone was able to completely overwhelm Gaita. The speed and power Abalone now demonstrated was far beyond the play-fighting she performed before; though Gaita didn’t think Abalone was on Daikon’s level, the distinction didn’t matter when she was this much stronger than Gaita.

Puttee was frozen in fear, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes streaming tears. She nearly lost Gaita once, and she lost Spats because of the decision she made to save Gaita. Watching her Android sister get beaten around with such ease filled her with intense terror. She couldn’t lose her sister, not again.

Abalone slammed Gaita into the ground and then fired a massive energy wave at her. “Ifrit!” she yelled. Seeing her chance, Gaita held up her hands and absorbed the Ifrit, feeling her reserve batteries refill like rain on parched earth. She smiled, thankful that her enemy underestimated the strength of Androids. Her resolve bolstered, Gaita flew back at Abalone and used the power of her Ifrit against her. The boost in power was notable, and Gaita anticipated that the added strength to her and the lost chi from Abalone would close the gap for her. She pressed her advantage for everything it was worth, using palm strikes to absorb more energy as she fought.

Abalone laughed. “Energy stealing technology makes for a fun trick,” she said. She put more effort into her movements, and was able to block all of Gaita’s strikes with relative ease. “Do you really think you’ve seen my true power?” Putting her fear aside, Gaita continued her assault, and eventually landed a flat palm against Abalone’s arm. She started stealing as much of Abalone’s energy as she could, feeling the increased energy raise her power rating. Abalone laughed again and chopped straight through Gaita’s arm, severing it with a wink. “Does that prove how useless this fight is?”

Another kick knocked Gaita into the ground, in the middle of the military scrap. Puttee screamed in horror. Abalone descended to the ground. “Daikon was always a fool, never confirming if the job was done. I’m not making that mistake.”

Freaking out, Gaita scrambled away, trying to figure out what sort of advantage she could give herself. She wanted to think the current power balance was tilted in her favor, but it was hard to tell, with Abalone playing with her sense of scale. Brushing her severed arm against a tank, Gaita remembered that she wasn’t just an Android anymore. Gaita jumped back and away from the advancing Abalone, scanning the battlefield around her. Having identified her target, Gaita landed on a tank and fused her circuits with the metal below, reforming it until the cannon of the tank replaced her lost arm. Abalone raised a brow, surprised. Gaita pointed her cannon at the demon and fired a powerful plasma burst.

The two danced through the leftover war ships. When Abalone got close, she would bust apart Gaita’s new weapons, and Gaita would respond by shifting through another tank or spaceship and come out armed with a new gun or blade; she also absorbed extra armor plating over her body. Gaita the Scrapyard Android was at her most quintessential moment.

With each pass, Abalone would bust apart more than the extra guns or blades. She also progressively stripped away more and more of Gaita’s original material. Gaita would replace it as best she could, but Abalone kept demolishing more and more of her body. Taking several deep wounds, Abalone grew tired of the infinite arsenal Gaita was provided with in the former warzone. Abalone kicked Gaita high into the air and then punched her down into the crater lake. She rolled her neck. “I won’t let you keep repairing yourself!” she declared.

Gaita rose from the waves, still holding onto a plasma cutter and a high-end laser rifle. With a look of fear, she turned to Puttee. “You won’t lose another sister,” she promised. Gaita turned her rifle at Abalone and fired the full extent of her base energy rating through its barrel. Abalone dodged and started moving forward. Once Abalone was too close for the rifle, Gaita switched to the plasma cutter, slinging energy blades through the air and swinging sharply to keep the demon at bay. Abalone could not be kept at bay, and soon she was on top of Gaita. She smashed the rifle apart and trapped the knife hand under her arm. Charging energy over her hand, Abalone prepared to land the killing blow. Gaita opened her chest, revealing a small cannon. She charged a blast with her full power and all the energy she absorbed from Abalone.

The massive blast hit home, and Abalone cried out in pain. Her right arm, shoulder, and much of her chest was burned away. Gaita smiled and pulled back her freed cutting arm, prepared to bring it down on Abalone’s neck. However, Abalone caught the blade with a newly regenerated hand and growled. “You have yet to appreciate true strength, doll!” she said.

Puttee watched in horror as Abalone charged energy over her hand and thrust it through Gaita’s chest. Energy feedback rocked through Gaita’s body as the chi burst apart her infinite energy generator. Her eyes glowing, she looked back at a bawling Puttee. “I won’t abandon you!” she promised. With a burst of chi from her eyes, Abalone destroyed Gaita’s head.

Gaita’s parts were left to fall into the lake. Huffing, Abalone wiped her mouth. “I’ll come back for you, noncombatant,” she told Puttee as she put her breathing device back in and descended to the underground cavern to retrieve her prize. Puttee sobbed, powerless, as she watched her sister’s remains floating over the water and wash up on the shore.

A hand floated right in front of Puttee. She picked it up and held it with both hands to her chest, crying so that her eyes burned. Gaita had been made from her dreams for a better world, to reclaim all that her father tried taking from her genius. In many ways, she had hoped Gaita could be a bridge to Spats, and she helped make their renewed friendship possible. The promise she made to Gaita, to turn her into a living machine and true warrior, came to her mind. Puttee was left without any sisters, having failed them both.

#dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #fan fiction #anime #manga

Dragon Ball 'Beta' Chapter 12: Running Into Old Friends

“So, who was this Spats person?” Scallop asked as she and Regal launched the Rainbow Stocking into space. “I was unconscious when she showed up. Was she…important? You know, besides preventing Daikon’s wish. I gather she was related to the Earthlings.”

Regal sighed. “Later. We can talk about her later.”

“Fine, ok. I just felt so left out the whole time.”

Regal scowled at the self-centered attitude, and then set in a course towards a Dragon Ball about two weeks away. “You know, it would have been better to go to a closer ball,” she said. “The enemy is far faster and already circling target planets.”

“This is better, trust me,” Scallop said. “I need this.” Scallop settled into a chair in the lounge and rubbed her stomach wound.

“Do you think you’re just going to be relaxing for the next two weeks?” Regal asked.

Scallop pointed to her injury.

“Then meditate in the gravity chamber. Let’s go, now.” Regal got up and walked to the training room. Scallop sighed heavily and followed. Walking into that familiar training room, Regal felt small. It was not as if this was the first time she realized she had an uphill battle in defeating Malacol, but fighting Daikon was the most concrete way it had ever been put into perspective. She did not know how long this ball hunt would be, but she did feel that going on it was a distraction from the training she needed to do, yet a distraction she couldn’t abandon. She turned the gravity up to 150G and felt the force wash over her. Scallop followed and shuddered from her wound a moment, hobbling across the floor from the gravity before sitting to meditate.

Regal began going through her drills, and Scallop saw how shaky she was. Scallop chuckled. “If Daikon has you scared, you’re going to faint when you meet Malacol,” she said.

“How would you say they compare?” Regal asked.

“He’s a rival, for sure, but Malacol is even more terrible. Probably why Daikon went through all that training he said he did. And that’s why Malacol also has been training more recently. But maybe I’m just biased, having lived in her shadow for so long.”

Regal shook her head, putting the power comparisons out of her mind. Whatever clues she had, it was more important to assume her goal was far above the strongest she’d ever seen and reach for that. But that image brought to mind Spats, who burned her nerves to death achieving that kind of power, and she shuddered. She told herself it was the aftereffects of the Seraphim.

After a short training session, Regal wiped her brow and turned the gravity off. “That’s enough for now,” she said. “It’s been a long day already.” She left and went to the lounge. Scallop followed happily. Regal poured a couple glasses of water and set one across the table.

Scallop sat down and took a sip. “So, who was Spats?” she asked once more.

Regal sipped her water. “Puttee’s sister. You remember what Puttee said at the memorial. Spats was angry with Puttee for leaving, and apparently was in a position to make a spaceship, two Androids, and a procedure to make herself into an Android, so she followed us out here to kill us. She was really ruthless, wrath incarnate. I really thought she would kill us to prove her point, but after a while, I saw more of the pain in her eyes. She just wanted her sister back. I’m lucky I always had the Grand Elder at my side.”

“She sounds like an interesting human,” Scallop remarked. She checked her bandage. “I should probably change this soon.” Regal went to the first aid closet to get more tape and sponges. “Judging on the progression of the gravity chamber so far, you should probably hit 200G before you even think about challenging Malacol.”

Regal’s ears perked a moment. “Your info may be out of date.”

“Yeah, probably. Just a suggestion.”

Two weeks passed. No hunters after Scallop chased them, as before, which Regal noted as a sign that the Demon Clan’s forces were thinning out more. Scallop’s stomach healed up, though the relative rest she had meditating in the gravity chamber meant she didn’t get as much weight training in. The planet they landed on was warm and had multi-colored clouds. The soil was like tie-dye, and the sporadic trees had diverse, geometric shapes. Once they disembarked the Rainbow Stocking, Scallop marveled at the environment. “This is unbelievable…!” she said. “It’s all so amazing!”

Regal rushed her onwards, paying little attention to the wonderous landscape. She could feel Demon Clan forces on the planet, already working to uncover the Dragon Ball. Scallop glared at the philistine and followed quickly. The signal was coming from the bottom of a vast pool of brightly colored beads, made from some form of natural glass. These beads, of course, looked just like Rainbow Dragon Balls, minus the stars, making the pool an annoying location for one. A relatively small troop of mutant Namekians searched through the pool, struggling to keep the excavated beads from falling over them and erasing the downward progress they had made.

Scallop rushed right into the middle of the action, as usual, and started attacking the soldiers. A large pile of beads fell over her and two others, burying them in the neon pool. Regal sighed. “Some things never change,” she said.

Looking over the field, Regal spotted the lead officer of this mission. She sat confidently, in an odd cloak. She smiled. “I knew I’d be seeing you,” the commander said. “See, I’m the head mystic of the Demon Clan, Limpet.” She stood up. “Normally I skip these menial tasks, but I foresaw death. I’m here to ensure it’s yours, servant of the Grand Elder!”

The bead pit burst like fireworks as Scallop shot out of it, her last enemy soldier in pursuit. With a quick mouth energy wave, Scallop slew the saurian foe. She then locked eyes with Limpet and gasped. “This isn’t going to be a normal battle, Regal!” she yelled. Limpet laughed at her erstwhile sister, predictable as always. Scallop went right in for the fight, charging Limpet ferociously. “Limpet’s dangerous for her magics, not her battle power! Regal! Come help me end this fight fast!”

Limpet scoffed. “Tell me who’s weak again,” she asked, knocking out Scallop’s wind with a knee to the gut.

“Ok,” Scallop wheezed reluctantly. “Maybe you’ve gotten stronger.”

Regal charged in at Limpet, fairly confident that she could defeat her without much issue in a direct fight. Before she could throw a punch, however, Limpet touched two fingers to Regal’s forehead. With glowing eyes, light burst from her fingers, knocking Regal back quite a ways. When she recovered, she looked up to find a clone of herself, copying her movements like a mirror, a faint glow of energy around her silhouette. Annoyed already by the implication of this copy, Regal stood up and took a stance. The copy did the same. She threw out a few strikes, and the copy did the same, their fists, feet, forearms, and shins clashing together as their mirrored movements met. Every hit indicated it was matching her physical strength exactly. Regal charged up and fired a Jophiel, surprised to see the copy do the same. Apparently, it had some chi or magical energy to work with.

Scallop continued to clash with Limpet. Though Limpet had, indeed, become a much more powerful warrior than the mystic was known to be in the past, Scallop still felt confident that she was the superior fighter. Limpet kept pace, but cursed the degree to which she was struggling with the turncoat. Getting some distance, Limpet materialized a long sword, an axe, and some stylized armor over her cloak. Thus armed, Limpet charged back into the fight, using the reach of her weapons to keep Scallop out of range. Scallop became preoccupied with dodging the blades coming at her.

The copy of Regal came rushing at Limpet, her eyes closed. None of its strikes connected because its limbs would dissolve within a certain distance from Limpet. She laughed. “You can fight by chi sense all you want over there,” she called out, “but I’ll never allow one of my own spells to hurt me, Regal!”

During this distraction, Scallop was able to knock the sword out of Limpet’s hand, and took that momentum forward. Limpet scowled, confident she did not see death in her own fate, and aggressively swung her axe, cutting Scallop’s limbs apart. With a grunt, Scallop regenerated the lost body parts and cursed.

Regal continued to struggle against her mirror. She knew that she could simply sit and wait, but she was concerned that Scallop would need her help. In any case, trying to provide assistance was better than sitting and waiting for someone else to solve her problems. She tried several tactics to outmaneuver the mirror, but no matter what she did, the copy would meet her along a certain plane, and she could not switch places.

Scallop generated energy blades over her hands. “I was never good with blades,” she said. With these aiding her guard, she was able to counter and move around Limpet’s swords and axes, reformed after each one was knocked away or broken. “But I guess they’ll do against you!”

With a growl, Limpet changed tact. Swiping her hand in front of herself, she summoned a gout of lava from the planet’s surface. Even the molten metals of that planet were in bright, primary colors. Scallop dodged out of the way, and found herself cornered by large hands made of bedrock. Scallop continued to blast away or dodge these bursts of planetary power, but it was far more difficult than before. Fighting with the field of combat left no safe harbor to launch an attack from. Snarling, she caught sight of Limpet, who was breathing heavy from the magical exertion.

Suddenly, chi blasts rained down around them. The blasts tore through the rocky and molten creations of Limpet’s magic, and began to strike at both her and Scallop. The close placement of the different blats near one another made them harder to dodge. Scallop put up an energy shield to guard, while Limpet placed several layers of rocky barrier over her head.

“Will you stop raining bombs on us blindly!” Scallop angrily yelled to Regal.

Far away, Regal was standing nose to nose with her mirror, both firing chi blasts like rain in an attempt to use a carpet bombing to skirt the usual mirroring counter of Regal’s attacks. The bombing paused. “You can take the hits,” Regal said. “They’re not full power.”

“Not the issue!” Scallop said. “If I get hurt, then it’s not helping! Just trust me!”

Though annoyed with the scolding, Regal had to admit the conclusion was sound. She was left with no way to fight Limpet or assist Scallop, and sat down to see how pouty her mirror’s face looked.

With a grunt, Scallop dropped her energy shield. “Now, where were we?” she asked. Limpet was already on the offensive. Scallop once more waded through Limpet’s planetary assault, most focused on avoiding lava and thus getting hit by plenty of rocks. As she did so, memories of her childhood passed through her mind, of sitting with Limpet as she practiced such planetary sorcery by making sandcastles. Having been born at the same time, the two of them had spent plenty of time together.

“I’m disgusted to think I once called you my closest sister!” Limpet declared. “Mussel and Radula would pick on us for being weak! I showed them by becoming a master sorcerer, and you proved them right by running away!”

Scallop ignored these statements, focusing on the battle. She knew going into the fight that it would be difficult, for reasons of combat sorcery and lingering affection. Fighting with Limpet now felt like sparring with Regal. Part of Scallop wanted to show she was no longer playing catchup, and she focused on that as she blocked yet another pillar of stone from the ground. Getting an idea, Scallop burst through the rocky entrapments around her and flew high into the air. Charging up energy, she yelled “Forneus!” and began to fire a rain of chi blasts down over Limpet. Limpet smugly blocked this familiar Demon Clan technique, though she became alarmed as some of the blasts penetrated all of her barriers and pelted the ground around her.

After a while, Limpet began to laugh. “Your power means nothing if you can’t hit your mark!” she sneered.

The energy blasts that pelted the ground dug into the bright soil and collected into a single mass under Limpet’s feet. Once enough energy had gathered, Scallop raised her fist and said, “Azrael!” summoning the sneak energy mine to burst upwards at Limpet, devastating her.

Regal was impressed at the sight, only partially viewed as her mirror’s head was in the way. Scallop landed at Limpet’s side and grabbed her by the hem of her cloak, raising a hand to pierce her heart. Limpet looked up at her with a familiar expression, one Scallop had seen many times growing up. Closing her fist, Scallop backhanded Limpet, knocking her across the pool of beads. “Leave!” Scallop demanded. “Now! You can’t defeat us!”

Regal gasped.

Limpet smirked. “Did the goody-goody teach you compassion for the enemy?” she mocked. While Scallop snorted a retort, Limpet summoned a discarded sword from earlier, pulling it towards her so that it stabbed Scallop through her shoulder. Feeling emboldened, Limpet rose to her shaky feet and recommenced her attack, slamming Scallop with hammers of bedrock. “You’re so weak! Just because we were friends, you would spare your enemy?! That will be your death, as I foresaw!”

Regal cursed herself for thinking that her trust for Scallop meant she could underestimate Limpet. Though she was no magician herself, Regal knew that eventually, her mirror would reach a breaking point, and it would be easier to reach now that Limpet was weaker. With this in mind, Regal started fighting her mirror again. She subjected herself to the full force of her own attacks, taking a blow to the head or stomach for every strike she gave to her mirror. Hit by hit, Regal found her copy more and more cracked like glass. After a final and devastating kick to her own head, Regal shattered the magical mirror and sent herself flying through a few square trees.

She got up and groaned. “Daikon’s attacks were way harder than that,” Regal said in disappointment. Holding out her hand, she generated an energy blade from the side of her fist, such that she was holding it like a sword. “Hello, my Michael.” Charging in at Limpet, Regal stabbed Michael deep through the mystic’s back, piercing her heart. Limpet spat out blood and fell to her knees. The rocky fists and weapons assaulting Scallop fell away into a rainbow of pebbles.

Turning to Regal in her last moments, Limpet gazed deeply into her eyes. “My prediction is accurate,” she said. “There is certain death in your future, and not just your own.” With the last of her strength used up, she collapsed.

Scallop flew over and gazed at Limpet’s body, conflicted. Tears welled up in her eyes as she mourned the loss of a one-time friend. “I’m sorry I didn’t kill her myself,” Scallop said in shame.

Regal clapped her on the shoulder. “I’m proud you showed restraint,” she said. “Only a true demon would kill their own family without a second thought.”

Scallop found herself once more humbled by Regal’s nobility. “Still, I made more trouble for you. I’ll look for the Dragon Ball on my own, to make it up to you.”

“Sure,” said Regal. Scallop dove into the pool of beads, and Regal sat to meditate, looking over the technicolor horizon. “This world really is beautiful.”

After hours, Scallop finally emerged from the pool of beads holding the Dragon Ball, the indigo six-star ball. “Good!” Regal called out. “Thanks for doing that.”

Scallop flew up to Regal. “So, what now?”

“Like Torta and Dragon said over the radio, I suggest we train as long as we can, before the final battle. There are too few officers left to worry about; we only have one last big enemy to prepare for.”

“Sounds good. There won’t be any hunters coming after us, either.”

The two loaded back onto the Rainbow Stocking and took to the stars. For the time being, Regal set the autopilot to weave them between the orbits of the different planets in that system, and if they needed to land, they could. They made their way to the gravity chamber. “You need to stop crawling at 160G in two days, because I’m turning it up after that,” Regal announced.

Scallop groaned at her harsh but ever-present taskmaster.

#dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #fan fiction #anime #manga

Dragon Ball 'Beta' Chapter 11: The Mission Never Dies

“Spats!” Puttee kept calling out. “Wake up!” She started shaking her sister. “Please, open your eyes! You survived!” Torta stared, still reeling, not fully able to process any emotion yet. This one thing he thought could be a victory, saving Spats, looked like another defeat.

Gaita put her hand on Spats’s head and focused. “The electrical activity in her brain…” she said with a sad and pained expression, “it’s not sleep or a coma. The only active areas in her brain are in charge of breathing and heartbeat; she burned out the rest of her nervous system. She’s…she’s braindead.” Puttee broke down crying, and Gaita hugged her, sobbing along with her.

Torta picked Spats up. “I’ll try putting her in the medical machine,” he said. “Maybe it can heal her nerves, and…and maybe we have a shot.” He carried her off to the Saiyan rescue vessel, protected just a little ways off from the Rainbow Stocking.

Regal was prodded awake by Scallop, and she watched Torta pass her with Spats. She looked up and saw the state of the battlefield. Scallop teared up, and then she rubbed her eyes and scoffed. “You aren’t allowed to kill yourself fighting anyone but Malacol,” Scallop said.

Regal’s head hit the ground. Daikon was said to be the only person currently alive who could rival Malacol in power; it was why their empires were so long at war. She sighed. “If I fought Malacol now, it wouldn’t even be a fight,” she said.

Dragon continued to let his tears fall. It was not so much sadness at his utter defeat, though he was deeply humiliated by how easily Daikon toyed with him. The fight broke his resolve, for the first time. All that effort, all that training and gumption, and he wasn’t even strong enough for Daikon to bother killing. It was enough to make him want to quit and find a quiet life on a distant world.

Torta placed Spats in the medical machine, hoping that it could bring about some miracle. As far as he knew, it could treat any injury or sickness. For as much as he wanted Spats to live for Puttee and Gaita, and to claim a silver lining on that day, he also had business with her. She always stood strong. Thinking back to the day of his final battle with her, he recognized her chaotic, conflicting emotions, the same sort Puttee dealt with, and yet the one thing Spats always had was conviction. Despite how unimportant Torta thought of himself, he came to realize in that moment how important he would be in turning everything around. His friends were all dealt major blows, but the Dragon Balls were still in play; either Daikon or Malacol would get immortality very soon if they didn’t do something. Looking at their relationships, he realized he was in the center of their group. They all had to be good soldiers and keep moving, and he had to be the one to stand strong. He stared at the monitor, hoping Spats would revive. For all her toxic anger, she also had an unbreakable spine and a natural knack for leadership. Torta needed to see her one more time, to feel what that was like, so he could be the person his friends needed him to be. To be the person he needed himself to be.

The machine beeped, and Torta expectantly read the report, hoping it would treat her in a short time. Instead, the machine told him that the bioengineered upgrades Spats had given to herself were entirely incompatible with its function, and so it was unable to heal her. The medical machine shut down and began draining automatically. Torta stared at the machine blankly. Puttee shuffled in behind him. “Is it working?” she asked.

Without turning around, he shook his head.

Puttee sniffed. “Thanks for trying. I mean, even if it worked, I doubt she would have kept her memories. She’s…she’s…”

Torta turned and hugged Puttee. “I’m sorry. I…I couldn’t protect her, or any of you.”

The two cried together, in a way they hadn’t done since Torta’s parents died. After their tears ran dry, Puttee pulled Spats out of the medical machine, and the two carried her back outside. Scallop, Regal, and Gaita had gathered around Dragon. Scallop was tying a bandage around her stomach, and Gaita was using her new Machine Mutant abilities to reabsorb parts to repair the hole in her gut.

Puttee and Torta laid Spats down on the ground in front of the group. “We…we should say a few words, in memorial,” Torta said. “She saved us, and bought the universe more time. I, uh…I admired her strength of spirit, above all else.”

Regal stepped forward. “Remembering the image of Spats, lonely in her duty, will be instructive for the rest of my life. I’m starting to get the idea we have a lot more in common than I knew.”

Dragon bowed his head. “I recognized her frenzied need to keep moving. I hope she found peace in her last wish.”

Gaita opened her mouth and teared up. “I never got a chance to know my own sister. I briefly met her just one week ago, in happier times, and she seemed…better. And now…none of us have a chance to see what could come of that.”

Puttee wiped her eyes. “Spats deserved better than what she got in life. Mom was the bright spot in the family, and we lost her so early. Dad placed all his failures on Spats and then rubbed salt in the wound by treating me like a goddess. And then I ran away in a dumb panic, because I was never strong like her. No…rigid, because she had to be. I ran away…I was going to ask her for help, but I was holding the plans for the Androids, and I was scared…that she would fall in line with dad. So I ran, because I’m a bad sister, and I never got to make it up to her…” She paused. “So, I’ll have to do better now, huh? If I have to make another wish on the Rainbow Dragon Balls after we revive all the dead on Earth to heal her wounds, then that’s what I’m going to do. There’s no other option beyond saving her. I’ll do whatever it takes. I just…I can’t stand the idea she died getting her wish, without getting to experience it.”

Torta felt his dry eye burn without tears to well in it. “I’ll always be there to help you, no matter what it takes.”

Regal nodded. “I will accompany you, as well.”

“Thanks for supporting my sisters,” Gaita said.

Torta sighed. “Daikon just kicked all our butts. He was strong enough to be a galactic tyrant for years, and spent a few months building the strength we just saw. And survived. A few months ago, those of us from Earth weren’t strong enough to be a footsoldier in his army. We just gave him a real battle. There’s still a big hill in front of us, but if we keep moving, I know we can finish what we came here for, and avenge Spats while we’re at it.”

Regal stood up. “We should get going now, then. I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we need to move fast if we’re going to get any balls of our own.”

“Agreed,” said Puttee. “We can’t be sitting still. Gaita, pick up Spats. We’ll be taking her with us, and I’ll find a way to heal her. Can I get the ship with the medical machine?”

“Sure, yeah,” said Torta. “You’ll need it more than me and Dragon.”

“Do you want to use it first?” Gaita asked. “Your eye…”

“I’ll keep my eye this way,” Torta said. “It’ll be a good reminder of why I’m working so hard.”

Puttee forced a laugh. “Don’t try to get all cool now. Also, I need a sample of the Devil's Tincture. That stuff clearly has powerful effects on healing and regeneration.”

“Of course, sure,” Torta said. He stopped a few steps away. “Who is Legging?”

The group turned to Puttee. “She’s our mom. Her death is what broke my family.” She giggled. “I knew Spats was never going to give the king his wish.” Torta smiled, and Gaita patted Puttee’s back.

“I take it we’re splitting up, then?” Scallop asked. “Sounds like we’re splitting up.”

Puttee sighed as she felt the moment break. “Yeah, same groups, same mission.”

Scallop felt chastised. “Sorry.”

The group went through their preparations and got settled onto their respective ships. Torta and Dragon reentered Dragon’s old ship, which had a proper training space. Torta looked at the remaining Devil's Tincture, after giving Puttee a sample. “At two drops a person a day,” he remarked that, “we could probably get another three months out of this, easy.”

“Yeah, probably,” Dragon agreed placidly. Torta could tell Dragon wasn’t quite there yet, mentally, after two major defeats in a row.

Torta went to the command seat and selected a course to the signal he staked out. With their journey underway, the two of them got to training. Torta knew he should feel ready to move forward, but something about seeing Dragon so beaten down held him back, as well. Nothing he said to Dragon lifted his spirits, and he was not sure how else to help him.

They arrived on the next planet a week later. It was a rocky world, covered in thin mountains carved full of holes and tunnels. The sky was murky and full of clouds. “Looks like we’re the first ones here,” Torta remarked happily.

“Good,” Dragon said, visible relief on his face. Torta didn’t like that; reluctance didn’t suit Dragon.

From the various holes in a nearby rock spire emerged strange creatures. After a moment, Torta realized they were the local Namekian tribe; he didn’t recognize them at first, with their six limbs and insectoid body plan. “Greetings,” said their leader. “I am Thorax. Welcome to my home. I’d invite you inside, but these tunnels are not accessible for humanoid beings like yourself.”

“It’s all good, thanks,” said Torta. “As soon as we get the Dragon Ball, we’ll be gone. I don’t want to bring you extra trouble.”

“The Dragon Ball is here, then?” asked Thorax. “I thought I felt it. I would like to offer my assistance in helping to locate it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dragon interjected. “It’s a nice offer, but I’d rather not have anyone else’s life on the line. The enemy could show up at any minute.”

“Well, if that’s how you feel,” Thorax said. “I wish you luck.” He turned back into his tunnel, and the rest of the tribe followed.

Torta turned out to the horizon. “I guess it’s that way?”

“Yeah, in a deep cavern of the largest mountain in this area,” Dragon said. He took to the air, and Torta followed. Three valleys away, they arrived. The mountain was much wider in base than many others around it, and was covered in all sorts of caves and tunnels all over. The two landed at the base of the mountain. “So, you wanna check each tunnel together? There’s no way of knowing which one will lead underground, if any of them do.”

Torta sighed. “Yeah, let’s go together. It’ll be too easy to get lost and trapped alone, and I don’t want it to collapse because I busted out a new hole. This is going to be a slog.”

Hours passed. Torta and Dragon went as far as they could through many tunnels, either finding that the path narrowed too much after a certain point or that the path did not lead down, and often both. The task was as tedious as it was time-consuming.

Suddenly, the mountain was rocked violently by multiple huge explosions. Both Torta and Dragon were inside at the moment, and saw rocks and boulders tumbling down around them. Torta moved towards the exit, but Dragon held onto him and extended a shield of chi around them, letting the rocks fall.

Once the rumbling stopped, Dragon released an upwards burst of energy from his shield, and the two flew out of the hole. On the surface, they found a wider hole leading down through the bottom of the mountain. “The nearest Saiyan or Demon Clan vessel looked days away,” Torta remarked.

“Clearly, they’re getting better about tracking.” Dragon said.

Soon enough, the enemy rose from the depths as a pair of Saiyan warriors, twins, one holding the red three-star ball. “You know them?” Torta asked Dragon.

“No,” Dragon said. “They’re new.”

“Look, Ube,” one of the Saiyans said. “Dragon was supposed to have bene killed by Daikon!”

“We’ll have to correct that, Jimaca,” said Ube. He pointed to Torta and Dragon. “You two get to die at the hands of the newest officers of the Saiyan Empire! Rejoice!”

Torta clashed with Ube, and Dragon with Jimaca. The two new officers were indeed exceptionally powerful, stronger than most any untransformed officer before them. Torta estimated that Ube was probably below Bagaruta, but not by too much. Eventually, he decided to get serious and see how much he had grown. Putting real force behind his attacks, Torta pummeled Ube, pushing him back and on the defensive. Ube seriously struggled with the intensity of Torta’s barrage. Looking over at Dragon, Torta found him fighting evenly with Jimaca, and it looked like Dragon was unsteady and holding back.

With a growl, Ube fired a chi blast into the rubble to make a dust cloud. Torta and Dragon covered their eyes. “We’ll have to let loose to win!” Ube said to Jimaca. The two charged up a lot of energy and fired dozens of blasts into the air. When the dust cleared, Torta saw Ube and Jimaca towering over him as Great Apes, the sky littered with artificial moons made from their chi. “We’ll never let you destroy all these Power Balls or cut off our tails!”

“We could beat Super Saiyan Bagaruta now, if we worked together,” Jimaca said. “You two don’t stand a chance!”

Torta rolled his neck. “I’ve beaten multiple bigger giants,” he said. “You don’t scare me.” He charged in, and quickly found that a Great Ape Saiyan was very different from a genmajin hybrid; despite the increase in size and mass, Ube was far swifter than before and still able to focus on the battle as if he were Torta’s size. It was a different and interesting challenge.

Dragon felt overwhelmed. No matter what he did, whenever he started fighting, or even just sparring with someone, he remembered what it felt like to overcome the odds against Bagaruta or Daikon, and then see them explode past expectations. Whether or not a transformation was involved was secondary, though the idea that there was one beyond Super Saiyan did lead him to fear his Saiyan oppressors would have infinite transformations beyond his capabilities. If he ever faced Daikon again and managed to overpower his second transformation, Dragon feared he would simply unveil a third. Jimaca was fast, ferocious, and highly skilled at combat in his Great Ape form. The increase in power made him a formidable enemy, a clear step up from before. Dragon was able to keep up his guard, and was not at the limits of his own strength, but he still anticipated a moment when Jimaca would announce he would unleash his full power and devastate him. Going all-out would force that moment to come sooner. Jimaca laughed at Dragon. “Like a No-Tail could ever defeat a Great Ape!” he sneered.

Ube laughed with glee as he traded blows with Torta. The human champion had adjusted to the size difference and got heated in the battle; just as Ube seemed to think he was winning, Torta felt a kind of joy in facing an opponent he could handle for a change. It was rewarding to know his work was paying off, even if he knew he had a long way left to go. Ube made a good break from the elites of the Saiyan Empire. Torta dodged a knee strike, putting him in range of a smack to the ground. After recovering, Torta looked up to see an energy bomb over his head, with Ube raising his right fist to the sky. With a call of “Parsley!” Ube dropped his fist, and a massive energy wave dropped down onto Torta. Alarmed, Torta fired a powerful BLT to counter it.

As he was locked in this beam struggle, Torta looked over to the other fight and saw Dragon being crushed in Jimaca’s hands. At first worried, Torta focused more and found that Dragon was resisting just fine, but wasn’t breaking out. Snapping, Torta deflected the Parsley and flew up to kick Ube away. “Daikon didn’t let you live!” Torta yelled to Dragon. “He mortally wounded your spirit! Doesn’t that mean it’s supposed to come back stronger?!”

Dragon felt something spark inside of himself again, hearing those words. He was a Saiyan warrior, no matter how much Daikon and his empire tried taking that honor away from him, and he always came back better than ever. He chuckled and looked at Jimaca, the proud tail user, and how his power ultimately paled in comparison to Bagaruta, let alone Daikon. He survived those fights, and he could win this one.

Torta kept the pressure up on Ube, breaking up his elastic armor and then pounding into his unprotected gut. He could feel the battle reaching its climax, and Ube came up just short. Ube charged a massive mouth energy wave, so Torta tackled his mouth shut as he fired, causing the energy to burst in his stomach. While Ube reeled from that, Torta held out his fist and fired a massive energy beam from it, calling out “Club!” The beam tore through Ube’s throat, and he reverted to his normal form as he fell to the ground.

Now dodging and parrying Jimaca’s strikes with relative ease, Dragon let his usual confidence slip out more. He formed energy blades on his feet, saying, “Dragon’s Tails!” He formed energy claws over his hands, saying, “Dragon’s Fangs!” Armed in such a way, he whipped around Jimaca, cutting deep into muscles and gouging out blood vessels. With each pass, Jimaca was left weaker, and Dragon made more ground. After gouging out Jimaca’s eyes, Dragon placed his Fangs over his head and began spinning, flying like a screw through Jimaca’s heart with a yell of “Maneater!”

Dragon whooped loudly, his cheer echoing across the many valleys of the mountainous planet. Torta flew over and hugged him. “It’s great to have you back!” he said.

“Thanks for the kick in the rear,” Dragon said. “It feels great to have a big win under my belt, after the last two fights.”

“Just look forward to beating Daikon,” Torta said. “Fighting with Spats at the beginning of this trip, I learned the hard way that training with the expectation of loss kills your momentum; that’s what helps me keep going when I’m hopeless. Maybe it helps that it’s fresher in my head?”

“Probably. It is easy to lose sight of your past lessons. I needed this.”

Descending to the ground, the two heroes searched Ube and Jimaca for the Dragon Ball. Dragon found it on Jimaca. “I lost track of which one was holding it,” Torta admitted.

Dragon looked into its red luster. “We have what we need now,” he said. “So why keep looking? After what happened last time, I think going for more balls is a waste of time. We should just train and get ready. We’ll have to get most of the balls from the Saiyans or the Demon Clan anyway.”

“Good point,” said Torta, smiling. “I like that plan. But we should probably move first. I don’t want to attract trouble for the people of this planet.” Torta took to the air, so Dragon followed him back towards the ship. As they flew past the first spire, Thorax emerged, and Dragon waved the ball. Thorax smiled and waved in farewell.

Once back in their ship, Torta went to the command seat and opened navigation charts. “I figure we’ll go for a quiet, out of the way moon,” he said.

“Actually, I know a place,” Dragon said. He put in some coordinates. “It’s an old, abandoned mining colony. Someplace I used to call home.”

#dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #fan fiction #anime #manga

Dragon Ball 'Beta' Chapter 10: A Wish Come True

After a few minutes, Torta’s eyes cleared. He saw Bagaruta standing in the middle of the field, cheered by her soldiers as she presented the blue five-star ball. “Have you located Dragon’s ship?” she asked.

“I have,” said a soldier.

“Then let’s all get back in the ship! We have a Dragon Ball to secure!”

Torta looked over at Dragon, bleeding into the dirt, and wanted so badly to crawl towards him. However, he felt a faint glimmer of chi from Dragon’s direction. Bagaruta and her soldiers had not yet noticed. Torta recalled her story about mistaking Dragon for dead, and that both Regal and Gaita had secured Dragon Balls. He gritted his teeth, knowing that pretending to be dead was his only chance at saving Dragon and thwarting the Saiyans. Shame washed over him as he lay there, waiting for the Saiyans to finish loading into their ship. All that work, all that optimism, all that camaraderie, represented in a promise that Torta failed to keep. Bagaruta trained to be the elite among transforming super soldiers, and added that transformative power to herself. Watching her follow her soldiers on the ship, Torta wondered if it would ever be possible to match that kind of power; he wasn’t even a match before she transformed.

Bagaruta stepped onto her ship after all her other soldiers got in and took one last look back, studying both Dragon and Torta. Torta kept as still as he could, suppressing his chi, and hoped that Dragon wouldn’t suddenly regain consciousness. With a satisfied grin, Bagaruta turned and entered the ship. It rose into the air and quickly shot into orbit.

Torta got up and rushed over to Dragon, keeping his chi suppressed. The wound in Dragon’s chest was severe, but it looked like it failed to pierce the center of his heart, which still beat faintly. His tenacious body and spirit refused to give up. Torta sighed with intense relief. He did what little first aid he knew, wrapping his shirt across Dragon’s chest, and then carried him back to the downed Saiyan fast attack vessel he and Dragon rode onto the planet. He searched it for whatever medical supplies were available and found a vaguely named “medical machine.” With the engine only partially functioning, it wasn’t operating at full capacity, but Torta put Dragon in it anyway and hoped for the best.

Going to the cockpit, Torta turned on the emergency beacon, looking to attract another Saiyan ship to hijack. The rest of the communications systems were damaged in the landing, so he was unable to tell any of his friends what had happened. In the meantime, Torta looked over his own injuries, and found he came out comparatively well, with a few broken bones and a little internal bleeding. Probably a few good reasons to take it easy, but instead he dedicated himself to training as much as he could. He had too many emotions to sit still for more than five minutes.

Three days later, Torta got a hit on the beacon, as a ship descended from above. Inside were three low-power Saiyans. Once it landed, a rescue worker emerged and approached. Torta rushed out and knocked the worker out and quickly disposed of the other two, throwing them to the dirt. He quickly transferred Dragon over to the rescue ship’s medical machine and wracked his brain for the tricks Dragon taught him for disabling tracking by the Saiyan Empire. It was up to him to get the ship moving, and he didn’t want them tracked again. Once he felt ready, Torta took the ship back into the air and headed towards he and Dragon’s previous ship.

Once there, Torta suited up and searched it, hoping that Bagaruta’s crew hadn’t busted things up much. Fortunately, he found his prize, the Devil's Tincture, floating safely in an unharmed jar. Clearly, he and Dragon would both need a lot more of it in the days to come. Looking into the jar to see how much was left, Torta felt just how little confidence he had in his efforts, but he had no idea how else to move forward.

Torta looked for the nearest habitable planet, other than the one where he fought Bagaruta. He didn’t want to be running around or sitting still in space while Dragon was recovering, which he hoped would be much sooner in this new ship. He found a moon with green fields away from Saiyan colonies and made his way there.

Two weeks later, Dragon opened his eyes. He flailed for a moment in the medical machine fluid in confusion, then felt the scars on his chest and back. He tilted his head back and sighed into his breathing tube, so relieved and a little dumbfounded that for a second time, Bagaruta failed to kill him. Torta rushed into the ship, soaking in sweat, and immediately collapsing. Dragon laughed, watching Torta struggle back to his feet. Just as he expected, Torta had been training twice as hard since the last battle. Torta drained the medical machine and helped Dragon out of it before hugging him.

“It’s so good to see you up and at ‘em!” Torta said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I should have been—”

“Hey, man, it’s cool!” said Dragon. “You saved me, in the end. I told you Bagaruta was bad news. And I also know how hard it must have been to play dead. Thanks, really. I take it she has the Dragon Ball?”

“Yeah, the one we were just chasing and the one we already had.”

“Yeah, that figures.” Dragon sighed. “Nothing else to do but figure out our next moves, right? Bagaruta failed to kill me twice. I’m feeling ready to gamble she can’t kill me at all.”

Hearing this, Torta felt hope swell in his heart again, though the way forward was still not clear. “I’ll get the others on the radio, then!” He and Dragon moved to the command seat, and Torta got the communicator connected to the Rainbow Stocking and the Silico Siblings’ ship. “Hey, everyone!”

“Hi!” said Puttee. “Good to hear from you!”

“Hello!” Gaita said.

“What is it?” asked Regal. Scallop hovered in the background.

“It looks like it’s time to meet up for our final trap,” said Dragon. “Where are you guys? What’s going on?”

“I just saved Scallop from a Namekian tribe,” said Regal. Scallop indignantly growled at Regal.

“I just got back from a raid,” said Gaita. “No new ball, unfortunately. But me and Puttee ran into Spats a few days ago!”

“She’s doing so well!” Puttee said.

Dragon looked at the radar screen. “That’s good,” said Torta. “Me and Dragon were nearly killed by a Saiyan officer, who stole our Dragon Balls.”

“And it looks like the outstanding five balls are collected in one place,” said Dragon. “We should definitely meet up and discuss our trap. Can you all come here?”

“Oh, crap!” said Puttee. “I hope you two are all right! We’ll head over right now!”

“I’ll be on my way,” said Regal.

“Good to hear,” said Dragon. “My plan is a basic ambush. Whoever comes to get our two balls, we overpower so we can hijack their ship and ride it to the enemy stronghold. Then we get our wish, any way we can. Puttee, can I trust you to disable the tracking nanites?”

“Ready to go when you are!” Puttee said.

“Great!” said Dragon. “So, come here, we’ll hash out the finer details, get our wish, and then scramble for survival.”

“See you soon!” Torta said. The group made their farewells and hung up. Torta turned to Dragon. “Are you ready to get back to training? After a couple weeks in sick bay, you have some catching up to do.”

Dragon chuckled. “You’re the one with catching up to do!” he said. “Saiyans get stronger after surviving near death experiences! I fully expect to be able to beat regular Bagaruta on my own now. That’s why I sound so calm, cuz I know I’m better than before.”

“Oh, and the Devil's Tincture is a dumb-sounding legend,” Torta scoffed. “Get out here and put your money where your mouth is!”

Dragon chuckled again and followed Torta outside. In the clearing, the two took stances. Torta was still shaky from his workout, which he had started the previous night. Dragon was excited but unsure what his new abilities would be like. They charged in and started sparring. It began relatively even. With a smirk, Torta increased the pressure, and Dragon responded in kind. Back and forth, they kept landing harder and harder strikes on one another, until eventually they knocked each other back to the ground. They sat up and looked in each other’s eyes. Dragon breathed more heavily than Torta.

“What have you been up to?” Dragon asked with a smile.

“I doubled my dose of the Devil's Tincture,” said Torta. “Two drops a day. Normal abnormal effort isn’t enough anymore.”

Dragon smiled. “I’m glad to see your attitude survived that fight!”

Within a couple days, Gaita and Puttee arrived planetside. Torta ran out to greet them. “Hey! Puttee! Gaita!” he called to them as the ship landed.

Puttee and Gaita ran out, in matching gym clothes. Torta was so much more relieved to see them alive than he expected. Gaita’s hair was black again, and shorter, but the bigger surprise was the machine-like “skin,” from her elbows and knees down. “Hey there!” Puttee greeted Torta, hugging him. “It’s so great to see you alive!”

Gaita hugged Torta from over Puttee, when it became clear Puttee wasn’t going to let go. “Hi, Torta!” she said.

Torta managed to separate from the hug. “What’s up with your skin there?” he asked Gaita.

“I could have given her human-like skin,” Puttee said.

“I like it this way,” said Gaita. “I was upgraded with Machine Mutant tech, and I wanted that to be visible.”

Regal and Scallop followed the next day. Somehow, Regal looked both tougher and more open. Scallop kept back while Regal reunited with her rivals and friends. “Looks like you haven’t stopped working, either,” said Regal, offering a hand for Torta to shake.

He did. “Of course not,” he said. He glanced over at Scallop and her upturned antennae. “Can she be trusted?”

Regal laughed. “She can be handled, that reckless brat. No one is allowed to harm her.”

Gaita approached Scallop and offered a hand in greeting, which Scallop shyly took.

The collected group took their time planning out their strategy and training. The organic fighters all entered the gravity chamber with the Devil's Tincture, and would donate energy blasts to Gaita’s reserve power on breaks. They figured that they would need to keep the commander of the hunters sent after them alive to guide them into enemy territory, and they would take separate routes once they got there, to better ensure they weren’t all captured.

Puttee kept her eyes glued to the radar, tracking the exact movements of the Dragon Balls. All five outstanding balls had stayed in one place since she turned her ship to this planet. The group expected enemy ships any minute. However, something surprising happened. The entire outstanding group headed their way, just a day after Regal arrived. “Come here!” Puttee called to her friends.

They gathered quickly enough and watched the signals move across the screen, towards their location. Scallop scoffed. “The enemy sure is reckless,” she said.

“No, this is bad news,” said Dragon. “Whoever this is, they’re doing this with incredible confidence. They have to be sending their greatest military power to get the wish directly, on this planet. This is the harder fight, coming right now!”

“In just a couple days,” Puttee specified. Everyone traded glances.

A couple days later, the enemy arrived. In the skies above them, a single-person craft descended, a ball-shaped vessel falling like a meteor. The chi within felt calm, and not at all overwhelming, but somehow intimidating. The door opened, and a Saiyan warrior emerged, his hair that of a Super Saiyan despite his placid demeanor. Looking around, this Saiyan found the Rainbow Stocking, its forcefield raised. With a smile, he raised a bag from his ship and poured five Dragon Balls on the grass in front of his ship. “The ants better scurry from their hills and put their cards on the table!” he called out.

Gaita emerged from behind a rock, calmly and smoothly. “Hi, I’m Gaita,” she introduced herself.

“My, how polite!” the Saiyan said. “I am Daikon, the Super Saiyan Emperor! Are your Dragon Balls behind that forcefield?”

“They are.” She took a stance. “But you won’t get them. I’ll be the spear to pierce your heart!”

Daikon laughed and slanted his stance. “I guess you want me to move,” he mused. “Then your friends will get my Dragon Balls. It’s pointless.” In an instant, he appeared beside Gaita and knocked her away. Gaita barely blocked in time. He chased after her and assaulted her wildly, attacking from all sides at once.

Suddenly, Daikon was knocked to the side, as Torta rushed into the fight. He continued to press the assault, driving a surprised Daikon back. The emperor squinted for a second. “You’re not fighting with just your strength, are you?” Daikon remarked. “I wonder how long you’ll last like that!”

Gaita stayed back, knowing she couldn’t keep up with the speed of that fight. Despite the combined power of three powerful allies, Torta found Daikon able to keep on his feet throughout the battle. Perhaps he had overpowered Daikon this way, but not by as much as he expected, and the emperor looked unworried regardless.

Daikon kept glancing over at Gaita, watching how she continued to shift towards a certain direction, and it wasn’t towards the Dragon Balls he left as bait. Torta, though surprisingly powerful in this state, was clearly struggling to withstand his own strength. A fight this tough and kids this smart made Daikon very happy. As Torta winced from the strain of his Dagwood, Daikon kicked him hard in the stomach, taking his breath. He then slammed him into the ground and rushed over towards the bushes Gaita was heading towards, causing her to panic and activate her forcefield, repelling Daikon. He wiped his mouth. “You children are being overzealous! I can easily outmaneuver your wall and kill the friends that Earthling is borrowing power from, before the Earthling can return that strength!”

Shocked that he figured it out so fast, Torta released his Dagwood, knowing he didn’t have the time needed to end Daikon before he gave out. A fast an easy victory would be out of the question. He looked to Gaita, and the two nodded. Torta rushed in at Daikon and pressed the best attack he could. Without the Dagwood power, fighting Daikon became an exercise in humility; none of his strikes hit Daikon, and he knew that they probably wouldn’t hurt him, either. Daikon’s Super Saiyan power did not feel like a transformative excess like the others he’d faced, but it did feel genuinely beyond any normal level of power.

While Daikon was having a laugh dodging everything Torta threw at him, he felt his back peppered by energy blasts. He turned to see Gaita firing at him, and he was confused as to why she had no chi while charging up an energy blast barrage. He held out his hand, three fingers extended, and charged a blast. “Rosemary!” he called, firing a powerful, concentrated energy wave. Torta was shocked by the sheer volume of power Daikon had charged into that beam in a split second; it was far more than Torta was capable of generating at full power.

Gaita held her hands in front of herself and absorbed the Rosemary completely. Daikon was shocked, and soon faced Gaita, who charged in with much more power than before. Torta took a step back to catch his breath while Gaita tore into the emperor. Daikon pieced together what was going on, and estimated that Gaita was fighting with more absorbed energy than she got from his one attack. Bursting with chi, Daikon rebuffed Gaita with a kiai. “You must have wanted to save this absorbed energy for later,” Daikon remarked. “Fighting robots like you aren’t as advanced anywhere I’ve seen. I assume your base energy generator is limitless?”

Gaita smiled. “You’re sharp. And correct. See your disadvantage?”

Daikon cracked his neck. “I’ll just have to get serious,” he said. Charging up to full power, he charged back in at Gaita and was able to overpower her. “Overwhelming force is an easy answer to come to with an enemy like you! It’s not like I can wait you out, like with that human’s odd technique!” Gaita was stunned to see Daikon still had so much strength in reserve; he wasn’t even trying until that moment.

Torta signaled to Regal, Dragon, and Scallop in the bushes. They came out. “We need to make an opening for Gaita,” Torta said. “She’s the only one who can generate the sheer force needed to hurt him!”

“We should just take the Dragon Balls now!” Scallop said.

Regal scoffed. “If Daikon’s still conscious enough to yell his wish or kill us as we run away, it won’t matter.”

Daikon checked a device on his arm while he held Gaita in a lock. He could see only one signal in the Rainbow Stocking, and another moving around him. Several blows landed on his back. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Torta, Dragon, and two Namekians assaulting him. He glanced back at the screen and smiled. He released Gaita.

Gaita dropped back as her allies took over the battle. Torta took the lead while the entire group weaved around one another to keep Daikon occupied on all sides. Despite their best efforts, Daikon looked unfazed by their combined attack, able to keep up with all of them at once. Daikon sighed. “I’ll just end it all now, I think,” he said. With a burst of force, he knocked Scallop and Torta away. He turned his attention to Dragon. “I guess you prove that my theory on tail removal isn’t true, if Bagaruta failed to kill you twice!” Dragon charged up a Dragon’s Tail over his foot and threw it at Daikon’s head. Daikon simply caught the blade and repeatedly slammed Dragon into the ground with it.

Scallop rushed back in and attacked with far more confidence than anyone would have granted her in that situation. Daikon kept hitting her far away, but she flew back in for more each time. He laughed at her tenacity as he grabbed her throat. “I don’t give A’s for effort, slug!” he said. With a swift motion, he jabbed his hand through her gut and tossed her into the dirt.

Regal fired a full power Uriel into Daikon’s eyes, succeeding at catching him off guard. She kept the pressure up on him as best she could, knowing in her bones that the risk she was about to take was reckless. “I guess you must be Namek’s savior!” he remarked.

Regal charged all her chi and her very life energy into her fist. “Seraphim!” she called out loudly, hitting Daikon in the stomach with her literal life essence, the energy exploding through Daikon’s body on impact. He gasped and spat out blood. Woozy and holding onto a tiny sliver of power, Regal grabbed Daikon’s arms to restrain him. “End this now, Gaita!” she yelled.

Gaita was shocked. “I can’t! You—"

“Don’t argue! We have the Dragon Balls! Just end the fight!”

Gaita was still conflicted. Torta got up. “Do it,” he told her. “Regal has never suggested anything she’d regret.”

With a deep breath, Gaita charged up the most powerful energy beam she had ever generated, using months of stored energy and her own maximum rating. “Thigh-High,” she whispered sadly, releasing the beam to the heavens from her open palm. The Thigh-High burst upon impact, and both Regal and Daikon fell from the sky. Gaita choked on her tears as she watched Regal fall limply to the ground. Torta’s eyes teared up, and he placed a hand on her shoulder.

A menacing laugh broke their camaraderie. Daikon hopped back up and stretched his neck. He looked over to Regal. “Congratulations, Namekian!” he said. “I didn’t think you were capable of an attack like that, but it’s not nearly enough!” He then looked to Gaita. “A few months ago, I would have been worried about that attack. But you couldn’t pull another off if you wanted now, huh?” He stepped towards Regal.

Torta, furious that Regal’s sacrifice was for nothing, flew at Daikon. The Super Saiyan Emperor swatted him away, and then followed him to deliver a series of powerful strikes, driving Torta into the bedrock. He then continued making his way to Regal. Daikon picked Regal up by the head. “You sure are tough, to have survived all that,” he remarked. Drawing his hand back, he punched her hard in the gut, causing her to involuntarily vomit. “And I need you alive for this! Cutting apart a corpse just isn’t as satisfying to me!” He reached down to her vomit and removed the Dragon Ball Regal had swallowed a week before.

The malicious emperor finally turned his head towards the ship, where Puttee had emerged at the top of the entrance ramp. He held up Regal’s body. “I’ll kill her if you don’t release that forcefield!” he threatened.

“Never!” Puttee refused. “I can always bring back whoever you kill!”

Sighing, Daikon slammed Regal’s limp body into the rock. He walked over to Dragon and grabbed his throat. “Have you grown fonder of this charming freedom fighter?”

“I’ll never give it up!”

Daikon tossed Dragon over his shoulder and pointed at Scallop. “I’m guessing no one is that close to a turncoat demon.” He smiled as he stomped into Scallop’s back, just to relish the brutality. Puttee was past the breaking point, but held firm, knowing she had to.

Torta got up and used a Dagwood with what little energy he and his allies had left. He rushed in to fight the Super Saiyan. “It’s impressive you got this much strength out of half-dead weaklings!” Daikon said. With a chop across the back of his neck, Daikon knocked Torta out of the Dagwood. He grabbed Torta’s hair and held his spear hand in front of Torta’s chest. “Will he convince you to open up? Reviving a dead childhood friend probably feels hollow after you watch them die because of your own stubbornness.” Though Puttee was impressed by Daikon’s continued insight, and though she nearly pressed the release button upon seeing Torta helpless, she shook her head. Daikon moved his hand to Torta’s head and jabbed a finger through his left eye. “You sure?” Grimacing, Puttee kept shaking her head.

Gaita cried out in pain, as Daikon suddenly appeared behind her and struck her through the stomach. He smiled. “The forcefield generated from her center,” he remarked. “I hope this strike got rid of it.” He held up Puttee’s dear sister by the hair. “You think a magic dragon will consider her as alive as your organic friends?”

Puttee’s hands trembled, and tears ran down her face. She couldn’t lose her sister. “Let me go!” Gaita called out. “You can always rebuild me!”

Daikon laughed. “Yes, you might as well mass-produce this lifeless doll!” he remarked.

“That’s not--!” Gaita started to say, but was interrupted as the forcefield around the Rainbow Stocking went down.

“You’re irreplaceable, Gaita,” Puttee said, tears streaming down her face.

Daikon smiled with all his teeth. Gaita sobbed in despair as she was dropped to the ground. Puttee fell to her knees, entirely powerless as Daikon walked right by her and retrieved the final Dragon Ball from the Rainbow Stocking. He looked at it, and the one he got from Regal, and laughed maniacally, knowing that eternal life and a never-ending empire were moments away from him.

Returning to his ship, Daikon placed the final two balls with the five his army fought and died for. The group of jewel-like spheres began to glow. “Shenron! I summon you from your slumber! Grant me my wish!” he called with expectant glee.

The light from the balls intensified, and the sky became pitch black above the clouds. Energy shot up from them, and it formed into the shape of a dragon, with large, bat-like wings, twin devil horns, a muscular body, and powerful legs above the infinitely-extending tail. “I will grant you any wish,” Shenron said. “Tell me now!”

Daikon could already feel his body change, he was so amped up about this moment. He opened his mouth to make his wish.

“BRING LEGGING BACK TO LIFE!” a voice suddenly yelled across the plain.

Shenron’s eyes glowed. “Your wish is granted,” he said. “Fare thee well!” He then turned back into light and receded into the balls. The Dragon Balls rose into the air and scattered across the stars as the sky returned to normal.

Daikon was aghast. Such massive amounts of effort, wasted. He searched across the landscape until he found the culprit. Puttee gasped upon seeing her. “Thanks for making a lifelong wish come true,” Spats said with a self-important giggle. “Guess I was right to follow the group of five to this moon.” She looked to her sister, and tears flooded her eyes. “We actually get to see her again!” Spats wiped a tear with her shaking finger. Puttee covered her mouth and sobbed.

With a blood-curdling howl of anger, Daikon rushed over and assaulted Spats with everything he had. He began cursing her violently. “How are you planning to repay me for what you’ve stolen?!” he asked. “You backwater wretch! I’ll go to your home and kill every last person, starting with this Legging person!”

Hearing that threat snapped Spats back into angry-mode. With a grunt, she turned her Safety Off and turned the heat up on Daikon. While at first she was not quite a match for him, Daikon was mortified to see her power grow exponentially, until she was able to easily turn the tables and dwarf his strength. Soon, he was barely able to keep up his guard against Spats.

Unimaginable pain tore through every cell of Spats’s body as she pounded Daikon as hard as she could. She had never known pain like that, and yet it paled in comparison to the anger she felt hearing Daikon promise to kill Legging. Her sisters’ lives, the lives of their friends, the lives of everyone on Earth were on the line, and though she cared about that, Spats didn’t need any righteous motivation to kill Daikon in that moment.

Daikon was pummeled like nothing he had ever experienced before. After all that training to unlock even greater power, he couldn’t stand the thought of losing. With a moment of focus, he charged up his chi and transformed, his hair becoming spikier and electricity bursting around his aura. “No one can win against power beyond the Super Saiyan plane!” he said angrily.

This sudden transformation did change the dynamics of the battle, and for a moment Daikon was back on an even footing. But as Spats struggled to stay conscious from all the fire in her nerves, she managed to laugh. “My power is limitless,” she struggled to say. “Yours is bounded by prideful haircuts! I will never lose to such a silly man!” She continued to increase in power, and soon not even Daikon’s new form was enough to keep pace. With a powerful kick to the head, Daikon was thrown across the field, knocked back into his normal state. Spats rushed over to him and charged up a massive energy bomb, smiling as she prepared to kill him. Daikon tasted true despair in that moment, as the unthinkable was about to happen.

The energy bomb did not fall. Soon, it fizzled out. Daikon looked up to see Spats unconscious, her eyes blank. A light breeze went past them, and she fell over. Daikon rushed to his feet and nudged her to see if she were conscious. There was no response. He heard no heartbeat in her chest. Daikon laughed and kicked Spats away from him. “Mock me, will you?!” he spat. “At least I’m not an idiot who would burn myself out on spite and anger!”

He walked back to his ship, entered, and rode it up into the sky. He looked down after gaining some altitude and saw the heroes beginning to stir, dumbfounded and grieving. With a laugh, he charged up a powerful energy bomb and threw it down at them before closing the door of his Attack Ball and racing back home.

The energy bomb fell slowly and detonated above the ground. The blast shook the entire planet, and left a massive crater hundreds of meters deep. The sound echoed around the world several times over, like the mother of all thunder. Dust filled the skies. Beneath this dust, in a peninsula jutting over the crater, was a patch of land protected from the blast by the Rainbow Stocking’s forcefield. Puttee sat there, numb, her hands having moved to activate the field’s widest radius on instinct. Her eyes were glued to the lifeless form of Spats in the distance.

Struggling to his feet, Torta looked across the battlefield. His eye moved from Gaita to Regal to Dragon to Scallop, and finally to Puttee. Though he was never sure they could win that fight, he was not prepared to feel that level of defeat. The throbbing in his eye was nothing compared to that. Scallop stirred, clutching her stomach, and began crawling towards Regal. Dragon rolled over and let the tears run down his face. He failed, and Daikon had somehow transcended Super Saiyan power. Torta kept staring at Puttee, and soon made his way over to Spats.

Spats indeed looked dead, and Torta felt no breath from her nose. He kept his finger on her neck, hoping to feel a faint pulse. Soon, Gaita appeared on Spats’s other side, and she began to perform CPR, sparks flying from her own stomach wound. “Puttee won’t abandon you again!” she said. “You can’t start, either! We need you!”

After a moment of this, Spats’s heart started back up, and she began to breath. Gaita and Torta were elated. “She’s breathing!” Torta called to Puttee. Puttee ran over, so desperate for Spats to live. They all watched as Spats’s breathing evened out and her heart beat strong, and they waited. But her eyes never opened.

#dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #fan fiction #anime #manga

Dragon Ball 'Beta' Chapter 9: Making Friends

Regal approached the engine room and sighed. “Scallop!” she called angrily. “You know it’s time to train! Will you finally start adhering to my schedule?”

“Working with a weak-willed traitor like you makes me sick!” Scallop called from her nest on the other side of the door. Regal had offered her a sleeping quarter, but Scallop refused to rest near Regal.

Regal sighed again and unlocked the door. “You don’t have admin privileges on this ship. You do realize how polite I’m being, asking you to come out on your own?” She approached Scallop and dragged her by the arm out of the engine room.

“Your manners show your weakness of heart, and your resorting to violence shows your weakness of character!”

Regal ignored the rest of Scallop’s indignant rant. She had long accepted that the former Demon Clan member was looking for any excuse to lash out. She certainly had a bleak-looking future, and likely was struggling with her decision to leave all her friends and family behind. But Regal’s patience was wearing thin, despite being understanding of the situation. She made many attempts to be supportive and friendly, to ease tensions in some way, and Scallop rejected her each time.

So, this had become their daily routine. Regal threw Scallop into the gravity chamber, far on the other side, and turned the gravity up to 100G. The shift caused Scallop to stumble and fall on her return trip to attack Regal. “Once more, I advise you to follow me in retraining your body from the basics and work on your forms today,” Regal said. “I’ll admit, you’ve made progress at this level, but you won’t survive 110G next week at this rate.”

“Shut up and die!” Scallop yelled, getting back to her feet and charging in at Regal with stunted movements. Regal blocked her attack and continued to interact with Scallop’s assault as if she were a training partner helping her with her blocking systems. She held onto her frustrations and saved them for the sparring match later in the day. Regal certainly had plenty of frustration with Scallop, because of the incredible optimism that her presence on the ship afforded her. Having Scallop at her side meant Regal had a chance of defeating Malacol, in her mind, and only because she genuinely believed that was Scallop’s uncooperative, bratty attitude so intolerable. Two months had passed this way. The two were no closer to getting the second ball they were chasing, and it soon looked like either the Saiyans or Demon Clan would gather the rest.

The security alert went off. After the last time the Rainbow Stocking changed course without telling her, Regal put in place a series of alerts to ensure she stayed up to date on the ship’s course and the location of enemy vessels. Knocking Scallop away, Regal turned the gravity down and went to the control seat. There, she saw that this time, the alert was warning her about a trio of ships heading for them. “Looks like more of your friends are here to play,” said Regal as Scallop entered the room. Several teams of Demon Clan hunters had attacked the ship over the last couple of months, looking to kill Scallop as a traitor. None were a particular challenge for Regal, though she was angry with the time they wasted.

“We’ll be fine,” said Scallop, who turned the forcefield on. “I’ll take care of this one.”

Regal rolled her eyes. Scallop always said this, and never was able to keep that promise. She went to the airlock and grabbed her spacesuit. She tossed the other to Scallop. “Get ready.”

“Why?” Scallop asked. “They won’t exhaust their weapons charges against the forcefield for at least half an hour. I refuse to wear that inferior Earth garb unless I have to.”

Once the enemy ships were in range, they opened fire, pelting the forcefield with lasers and plasma charges. Regal calmly sat by the airlock door, waiting. As Scallop said, it would likely be a half-hour or more, since she didn’t want to risk damaging the Rainbow Stocking. However, this attack was different. Instead of trying to destroy the ship where it stood, once the enemy ships were on top of the Rainbow Stocking, they fired continuously on the forcefield, pushing it away from themselves. With a carefully organized assault, the Demon Clan pursuers were actually able to direct the Rainbow Stocking’s path, pushing it towards a nearby planet. Getting up to the command seat, Regal got a better read on the situation and tried taking evasive action to get out of the controlled path. Unfortunately, her meager skills as a pilot were unable to match the precision and teamwork of the enemy ships, which changed their angle of fire to keep the Rainbow Stocking in line.

“What are you doing, you idiot?!” Scallop yelled at Regal. “Get us out of this! Did a dog teach you how to fly a ship!?”

Regal’s focus was pulled back and forth sharply from trying to pilot the ship and her extreme anger at Scallop for choosing this moment to be insulting, and so she had little recollection of what she said or did as the ship was pushed into the atmosphere. Soon, the Rainbow Stocking had crashed into the surface, with the three ships quickly afterwards depleting their weapons charges against the forcefield.

The planet was cool, and they landed in a vast forest. The sky was clear. The Demon Clan ships hovered around the Rainbow Stocking, and soldiers poured out and took positions. Regal turned to Scallop and growled. “Did you really think all that yelling was helping?!” She shot out of the command seat and went for the door.

Scallop followed. “You’re just a dimwitted, ill-equipped moron who…” Regal tuned out the rest. It was nothing she hadn’t heard before, though she did feel she should have been more prepared as a pilot. But she cheered herself up as she thought of a plan.

Regal and Scallop emerged from the ship with over a dozen mutant Namekians waiting to tear into them as soon as the forcefield came down. Regal removed the four-star ball from her pocket, to everyone’s surprise, and swallowed it. “If you want it, you have to kill me!” she announced.

Scallop was incensed. “You idiot! Why would you—” Regal grabbed Scallop and threw her towards the forcefield. Just before she hit it, Regal used the remote to turn it off, causing Scallop to crash into the soldiers on the other side. The Demon Clan soldiers quickly rushed in at Scallop, who struggled a moment in her shock. After regaining her wits, she started deflecting all the strikes coming at her, and soon had fought her way back to her feet. With a few quick attacks, she slew all her attackers. Looking around, she found that the others had all been defeated by Regal, successfully using the distraction to pick them off. Scallop scowled. “I demand an apology!” she growled.

Regal laughed. “You were fine in the end.”

Out from the lead Demon Clan ship came an imposing officer. “Oh, no,” Scallop said. “It’s Radula!”

“Should I be worried?” Regal asked.

“Mantle would have been,” said Scallop.

Radula laughed. “I always pitied the soldiers who had to work for Mantle!” she said. “And since you’ve killed all of mine, I’ll personally be taking both your heads back to Malacol!”

The three took their stances. Before the battle could begin, however, sounds in the forest made it clear there were others surrounding the three aliens. “Wait,” Regal told Scallop. From the forest appeared a large group of Namekian warriors with four arms and crowns of horns on their heads, the native tribe of this planet.

One of these warriors stepped forward. “I am Chamma, head warrior!” she introduced herself. “I don’t care what any of you Demon Clanspeople are doing. You could be invading this world. You could be in-fighting. You could even surrender to me right now, it wouldn’t change the fact that I will kill you right here and now. There is no mercy for demons!”

Radula laughed at her audacity. “Please, listen—” Regal started to say.

“Like I’d accept your mercy!” Scallop snapped. As Regal had guessed, Scallop was not prepared to handle this sort of pressure. “I’ll kill everyone in my way! I am my own Namekian, and I will not be threatened by some backwater lowlifes!”

Regal cursed Scallop and tried to stop her as she lunged at Chamma. Radula got to Scallop first, slamming her into the ground. “Malacol wouldn’t accept it if I let these wimps kill you for me!” Radula said. Several of the native Namekians caught onto and swarmed Regal, pulling her away from Scallop and Radula.

Radula overwhelmed Scallop with her sheer ferocity, opening up with a full force attack and not relenting in the assault. Outside of this, she and Radula were also pelted by chi blasts from Chamma and her warriors. Already beyond stressed with this entire ordeal, Scallop felt completely helpless with this attack from all sides, and she couldn’t stand it.

Radula growled and released an explosive wave, repelling the native assault. Chamma rushed in and engaged with Radula directly, while three others charged in at Scallop. Though Scallop was still on a razor’s edge, she found her attackers manageable. “I’ll kill you all!” she told them.

Frustrated with how even the fight felt with Chamma, Radula growled in anger. She got some distance from Chamma and pointed to Regal’s battle. “The other demon there is going to slaughter your warriors at this rate!” she said.

Chamma looked over at the battle. “Indeed, that one looks superior to their abilities,” she agreed.

“So you should go take her down while I kill this one here, right? What does it matter to you as long as we all die?”

Though disapproving of a Demon Clan member telling her what to do, Chamma was worried what Regal would do to her fellow warriors. “You three!” she called to her warriors fighting Scallop. “Come with me! We’ll make quick work of that one over there! Once that’s done, we’ll come back and concentrate our efforts on these two!” The soldiers nodded and followed Chamma’s retreat towards Regal. Radula rushed back in at Scallop once more.

Regal was struggling with her battle, having to hold back so much. She had no interest in killing, or even injuring, her attackers. “I’m telling you, I’m not a—” Regal continued to explain, before she was interrupted by another punch to the face. Chamma and her three fellows joined in the battle. “Chamma, I’m not in the Demon Clan!” Regal told her. “Neither is Scallop! She defected from the Demon Clan, and we’re being hunted for it!”

Chamma scoffed. “Seems more likely to me that the loser Grand Elder’s pawn joined the winning side,” she said. “Or maybe you’re trying to take over. Either way, no one would be dumb enough to believe one of Malacol’s children would turn against her!”

Gritting her teeth, Regal focused all her efforts on defense, bemoaning how undignified she was. She had also wondered how genuine Scallop’s rebellion was these last two months, but felt convinced it had to be real. “I’ll kill you if you don’t put up more effort!” Chamma told Regal.

“You’ll never be able to,” Regal said. “I’m more worried about Scallop.”

Scallop, still frazzled, was on the defensive from the imposing Radula. She was alone in that battle, surrounded by enemies on all sides. The past two months, she had been trapped on a ship with Regal, who she still believed would kill her once she was no more use. Out in space, all her former friends and allies were hunting her down. She was alone and had no way forward.

Radula slammed Scallop in the gut and then kicked her down into the ground. She charged up a powerful energy bomb and threw it into the crater, causing a massive explosion that rocked the planet. She laughed as she descended to the center of the pit. “You were always a sorry excuse for an officer!” she said. “Like you’d ever amount to anything!”

Blinking, Scallop realized that was supposed to be Radula’s big show of force. The battle had been difficult, but she had been sure Radula was holding back; Regal gave her even harder fights in training sessions, slowed down by 100G of added weight. For a moment, Scallop caught herself feeling on the same side as Regal, but immediately put that thought aside. With a chuckle, Scallop got back up and popped her neck, feeling stronger.

Radula laughed. “What, you think you’re going to—" Scallop interrupted Radula’s condescending threat with a knee to the head. With a concentrated, intense attack, Scallop drove Radula back through the forest. Eventually, she backed Radula into a large boulder and beat her into it.

She charged energy over her fist. “Who’s amounting to what?” she asked. “Now, I’ll do you the kindness of sending you to death with your favorite technique! Barbas!” Scallop slammed her energy-clad fist through Radula’s head.

Scallop looked to the sky and roared. While she stood there, reveling in self-congratulations, Chamma rushed in and attacked her from behind. Scallop was knocked through a few trees, which then fell on her. “That one there is proving gutless,” Chamma said. “I’ll collect on Radula’s promise before going back there.”

Scallop shot back up. “I’m not afraid of you! I’ll kill you just like I killed her!”

Regal was initially pleased to see Scallop defeat Radula, but became concerned once more when Chamma separated from the group. She tried following, but the native warriors held her back. She was desperate to go aid Scallop and ensure her survival, but she was reluctant to let loose on these misguided warriors. Part of her knew she would think and act the same in their position.

Scallop cried out in pain as Chamma devastated her in battle. Hearing it, Regal was reminded how important Scallop had become to her. With a glint in her eye, Regal started dispatching with her attackers one by one, leaving them unconscious on the forest floor. Someone was going to get hurt and lose that day, and it wouldn’t be her.

Chamma held Scallop by the throat, another hand pulled back for a strike through the heart. Even limp in this death grip, Scallop scowled with indignant anger. “I’m really gonna love killing you!” she said. “Then I’ll kill Regal, and we’ll see who’s on top!”

Chamma sighed at the myopic attitude of the damned and thrust her hand forward.

Regal arrived and stopped it, just a few of Chamma’s nails piercing Scallop’s skin. Chamma was shocked at the sheer force applied to her wrist. Regal pressed her thumb into a pressure point in the wrist of the hand Chamma held Scallop with, causing her to release Scallop. Looking down, Regal sighed. “You have so long to go before you could kill either of us,” she said.

Chamma regained her composure and repelled Regal with her other two hands. “Why are you helping the Demon Clan?!” she demanded to know. “Especially such a sloppy, poor excuse for an officer like her!” Scallop growled and fired a beam from her mouth at Chamma, who responded with a beam of her own, placing all four of her hands together to fire.

Regal stood in the middle of these blasts and was enveloped by massive explosions on each side, knocking Scallop and Chamma away. Once the smoke cleared, Regal was standing there, stock still. Chamma felt intense intimidation. Scallop briefly felt moved. “Stay out of this!” she yelled at Regal. “I’m just about to get serious!”

“Have some pride!” Regal snapped angrily. “Accept defeat when it comes! You have to stay alive, because you’re the only reason I have any hope of defeating Malacol! Being at my side means you have nothing to prove to me. I can’t imagine what it took to defect from your mother and her army.”

Scallop felt small, overcome with the warmth of Regal’s kindness.

Regal turned to Chamma. “I’m done here,” she said. “I now want to leave and continue my mission to kill Malacol, as my mother, Melodica, birthed me for. If you still want to fight, then I’ll kill you like any Demon Clansperson, but I’d rather not.”

Chamma looked again at the seemingly changed Scallop. “You can go,” she said.

Regal was satisfied. “Get up, you,” she barked to Scallop. “Be ready to train within the hour; you’re clearly not ready for the enemy yet.”

Scallop wiped her eyes. “I’m far superior to most of the Demon Clan at this point!” she said indignantly.

Regal scoffed. “Does that paltry ranking satisfy you?”

The two continued to bicker as they boarded the Rainbow Stocking, and Chamma watched them leave with a growing sense of wonder.

#dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #fan fiction #anime #manga

Dragon Ball 'Beta' Chapter 8: Sister's Reunion

Puttee watched with wracked nerves from the ship as Gaita infiltrated another Saiyan vessel during a Demon Clan raid. The sneaking around was a strategy proposed by Gaita herself, taking advantage of her lack of chi. It was better to avoid prolonged and risky battles, but Puttee knew the real goal was to keep her from worrying. Gaita hadn’t come across any particularly powerful opponents; she simply made it her job to allay Puttee’s fears. Of course, as Puttee sat on the ship, listening to the radio and watching video from Gaita’s eyes as she stealthily crawled through a battlefield, she was just as afraid of Gaita being discovered as she was that they’d run into another Cavassa situation.

As Gaita moved along, she could hear the ragged breaths of her sister. Before they started flying around on their own, Gaita hadn’t been in a position to pay so close attention to Puttee as she moved, and took her seemingly placid, confident demeanor for granted; it fit Puttee’s image that she had such trust in her friend’s abilities. She since learned that it was a cover. Gaita knew that sneaking around like this didn’t do as much to alleviate Puttee’s nerves as she hoped, but she had to do something. This time, Gaita promised herself she’d successfully sneak out with a ball; the relief would be worth something.

Unfortunately, that promise was broken when a soldier spotted her. “Who’s that?!” the Saiyan asked, pointing. This was a common ending to her infiltration missions; the chaos of battle and a lot of people looking everywhere for a small object made it easy for Gaita to be spotted. Two Saiyans and a Demon Clan soldier broke away from the battle to attack Gaita.

Sighing, Gaita said, “Don’t worry, Puttee,” as she jumped off the wall of the ship. The enemy soldiers rushed her. None were of particular note in power, and their lack of coordination made it easy for Gaita to evade them and absorb almost all their energy, each. These encounters were still worth something, at least. The soldiers fell with only a flicker of life left, as Gaita felt ghoulish killing people that way.

She looked up and saw the Demon Clan commander grabbing the indigo six-star ball away from the Saiyan commander. “Put your helmets on!” she yelled as she put her own on. All the Demon Clan soldiers heeded the command, as did as many of the Saiyans as could get past their surprise. The Demon Clan officer raised her hand up blew a hole in the Saiyan ship, causing a burst of explosive decompression that tore the ship to pieces.

Gaita was slung out into the void, same as everyone else. “Well, darn!” she said, stabilizing her position and looking around.

“Look towards the fourth planet of this system!” Puttee called over the radio. Gaita turned in that direction, and saw the Demon Clan retreating to their ship. She gave chase, firing a couple Hessians to take out a couple more mutant Namekians. Unfortunately, the commander and her remaining troop reached their ship and quickly took off. Despite her best efforts, Gaita was not yet fast enough to keep up with a spaceship.

“Crap!” Gaita said. “Scooped again!”

“It’s ok,” said Puttee, her voice still shaky. “Come on back, I have their trajectory.”

Gaita returned to the ship. Though the loss was disappointing, this encounter was typical of all the other failed raids since she started working to get her second ball. It had been two months since Gaita defeated Cavassa, and she had been doing raids like this the entire time. She and Puttee switched off between chasing three different signals in an attempt to get another, and were always unsuccessful. Gaita climbed into the airlock. “I’m sorry,” she said as she entered.

“It’s fine,” said Puttee, who had calmed down some. “We have a ball, so we have a shot. This is just insurance.” For Gaita, losing raids was disheartening, but Puttee always telling her to keep her chin up was worse. All the hardest work fell on Puttee these past two months. She was the one charting their course, working on Gaita’s upgrades, and making plans to turn Gaita into a living machine. All Gaita had to do was run into battle, which only made Puttee fear for her safety. She didn’t even feel like a weapon or a shield anymore.

“I know,” said Gaita. “We’ll keep looking. And you know I’ll always come back, right? We’ll get home, one way or another. With our friends, and even Spats.”

“That’s the dream, right? Sounds like a plan.”

Gaita sighed. “Take the night off. I’ll watch the ship.”

“Ok…” Puttee yawned and stretched. “We’re on course.” She got up and went to the sleeping quarters while Gaita took her place at the con. Puttee stopped at the threshold. “I do trust you, you know?”

“I do.” That’s what made it worse for Gaita. She couldn’t take the fear out of the world.

Two days later, Puttee and Gaita had chased the Demon Clan ship towards a planet, where it made a crash landing; apparently, it had been damaged in the past. The planet they approached was much more prominent than usual. It was the bustling technological hub of Plant, which had become an economic powerhouse and was recently developing robust military power. Looking over the planet, Puttee started getting excited for a change. “Look!” she said. “There’s so many amazing gadgets down there!”

Gaita smiled. “It’ll be a nice little vacation while we’re down there!” she said.

The Demon Clan landed outside a large metropolis, where a lot of emergency response started gathering. Puttee put the ship down on the other side, in a secluded park. “We’ll fly the rest of the way,” Puttee said. “As we go, we can scope out all the tech!”

Gaita giggled. As the two walked towards the city proper, Gaita was wowed as much as Puttee was. All throughout the city, robots of varying size and shape flew around freely, performing all sorts of tasks. The robots would also walked right through the metal of the buildings and streets, as if it were liquid. Puttee started to squeal audibly in excitement.

“Who are you folk?” asked a passing elderly woman on the street. She was one of the natives, a Tuffle. “You look like tourists.”

“We are!” said Puttee. “I’ve never heard of the technology used with these robots. Do you know anything about it?”

“These aren’t robots,” said the woman. “These are Machine Mutants, technorganic creations of our greatest minds. With the barbaric Saiyans and Demon Clan fighting everywhere and threatening to take over every planet they can, we needed a real fighting force. These Machine Mutants will keep us safe, and revolutionize society while they’re at it! We’re adding Machine Mutant technology to every part of Plant.”

“Thank you!” said Puttee, shaking the woman’s hand way too hard. She then grabbed Gaita’s hand and ran off with growing joy. “This planet is amazing! Oh, wow, we HAVE to get a bunch of stuff here!”

Gaita felt her world expanding. “Do you think you’ll find the secret to making me a living machine here?” she asked.

“Who knows? In any case, we’ll get one heck of an upgrade!”

Gaita threw her sister on her back and flew off towards the signal. She pushed all the implications of Machine Mutant technology out of her mind, above her head as it was, and focused on the Demon Clan battle ahead of her. As she approached, the crowds thickened, and there were increasingly strict security measures in place. It appeared as if the entire area was put under lockdown by the military. There were signs of battle at the Demon Clan ship.

A drum-shaped Machine Mutant guard blocked Gaita’s path, causing her to make a sudden stop. “The area you are headed for is under siege by the Demon Clan,” the guard said in a monotone voice. “Our troops are engaging. All civilians must remain free of the area.”

Gaita tried explaining. “Oh, well, we aren’t—”

The guard scanned the two Earthlings. “Do you have your tourist passes?” he asked, his eye turning red.

“Ignore him,” Puttee said, having dealt with these types a lot. “Go around.” Though unsure, Gaita did as Puttee suggested. The guard tried following, but Gaita was much faster. More guards tried intercepting them, so Gaita had to weave around them all. Puttee sighed. “I hope it’s not what it looks like.”

Once she reached the site of the Dragon Ball signal, the guards stopped chasing. Gaita wanted to ask her sister about what she meant, but she saw the battle underway below her. Machine Mutants were clashing with mutant Namekians, and the Demon Clan commander was standing by, watching without worry. It was clear that the Demon Clan was on the winning side. Gaita knew that if the Machine Mutants couldn’t handle the footsoldiers, they couldn’t handle her.

Puttee picked out a spot in the crowd and pointed. “Go ahead and drop me off there,” she said. “You get that ball. This is your forte, this time!”

Gaita cringed and set Puttee down, not liking the sound in her voice when she forced optimism like that. “I can easily handle these guys,” she told her sister. “I won’t even have to touch my reserve energy.” Puttee smiled and clapped her on the back. Charging in swiftly, Gaita knocked back several soldiers at once. This made her an enemy of everyone present, with the Demon Clan and Machine Mutants both pointing arms at her. She ignored this and stayed focused on the Demon Clan in front of her, easily tearing through the saurian soldiers.

The Machine Mutants watched her with suspicion and itchy trigger fingers. One of the Machine Mutant soldiers moved in to attack Gaita. “Stop!” said the commander. He was humanoid, with a design aesthetic similar to a classic car. “Stand down now!”

“But Commander Soz,” said the soldier, “all outsiders to Plant are a threat and should be put down on sight.”

“Belay that nonsense,” said Soz. “This outsider is clearly helping us beat back the Demon Clan we were just struggling with.” Puttee listened intently to this chatter, and noted the dynamic of Soz.

The Demon Clan commander approached Gaita as she took down the last Demon Clan footsoldier. “Well, I guess you’re more than a failed ninja,” she laughed. “Didn’t think I’d see you after you failed on the Saiyan ship. I guess I have to fight you myself. The name’s Chiton. You should feel honored I’m taking the time with you!” Gaita smiled; perhaps Cavassa would have been worried about Chiton, but Gaita no longer did. The two made their moves, clashing intensely.

In the skies above, a series of small ships descended. The Machine Mutant army took note. “A few dozen Saiyan vessels,” reported a soldier. “Fast attack ships. Though one at the back looks like a different make.” That unusual ship in the rear stopped, and out from it came a single being. Soon, the Saiyan ships each released several soldiers, such that dozens of Saiyans now flew down.

“Stop those Saiyans!” Soz ordered his men. “We can’t handle them and Chiton at once!” A battle in the skies began thus, as Machine Mutant soldiers led by Soz shot into the sky to intercept Saiyan warriors. The lone figure from the unknown ship was swarmed with a group of Saiyans, as well. Another, smaller group of Saiyans swooped down towards the Demon Clan ship.

Chiton and Gaita saw this and disengaged their battle to stop the Saiyans. Both charged energy blasts to snipe the enemies. They proved good enough to dodge, and so a handful started fighting with Gaita and Chiton. Though the Saiyans were not an overwhelming force, they were enough to hold back the two warriors while one of their fellows grabbed the ball and flew back out. The other Saiyans fighting with Gaita and Chiton followed in retreat back to their ship. Gaita knocked Chiton down and fired several Hessians at the Saiyan with the ball, but he was guarded by more allies, appearing out of even more ships.

With the Saiyans successful in their suicide run, they made their way off world. Chiton went to pursue them, so Gaita took the opportunity to fire a Chelsea through her chest. The Demon Clan officer fell to the ground unceremoniously. Gaita looked back up at the retreating Saiyans. “I was almost there!” she grumbled.

“Your complaints are invalid,” said a familiar voice. “You still have one Dragon Ball.” Turning with surprise, Gaita saw Spats, floating down with a smirk on her face. Puttee rushed over, tears in her eyes. The two sisters embraced.

“Oh my god I missed you so much you jerk I’m just so happy to see you again!” Puttee told Spats.

Spats rolled her teary eyes. “I know,” she said. “Same here.” She looked Gaita’s way and offered a hand. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you and all the trouble I’ve caused.”

Though still holding some reservations, Gaita took Spats’s hand.

Machine Mutant soldiers surrounded the Earthlings. “Surrender now!” said one soldier. “You are unlawfully occupying our land, and we will kill you if you do not surrender!” Spats glared at them with eyes that could kill, and Puttee’s heart sank, her concerns confirmed.

“Stand down, men!” Soz ordered.

“But sir—”

“STAND DOWN! I’ll take all responsibility with the higher ups. You will not be harming a single hair on the people who just repelled a Demon Clan and Saiyan attack for us.”

“If it helps,” Spats offered, “we’ll be gone in an hour or so.”

Soz nodded.

Before Gaita could say anything more to Spats, Spats took to the air. “Come on, let’s go somewhere more private.” She flew off and away. Puttee climbed on Gaita’s back, so she took off after Spats.

They flew far away from the sprawling metropolis until they got to a clearing by a river. “Plant technology is incredibly impressive!” said Spats once they landed. “It’s too bad they’re being used like the Silico Androids, for pure military power and control.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Puttee. “I’ll still be taking a bunch of samples and data to upgrade Gaita, but I wish this kind of technology wasn’t always used for war.”

Gaita realized what was going on and sighed sympathetically for Soz.

Spats looked back to Gaita. “So…” she said awkwardly. “You still have Bravo’s hair.”

Gaita giggled. “I’m thinking of going back to my original hair, but with a shorter cut.”

Spats sighed and bowed her head. “I want to apologize again. I really need you to understand that I mean this sincerely. I’ve been swimming through years of pain and inadequacy, and recent events have taught me how to stand strong on my own two feet. I still have anger with my sister, but it’s something we can work out; I don’t blame her for how my father ruined my life anymore. I want to be my own woman. I understand if you’re not ready yet.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” said Puttee, jumping in fast.

Gaita held up a hand, cutting Puttee off quickly. “I am still angry with what you’ve done, Spats,” she said. “I still have those feelings to work out. But that said, I’ve thought a lot about this. I know a little of what your family was like, and I thought about how it must have made you feel. And in the end, after you kept saying you’d kill me, Torta, and Regal, you spared us. That tells me you aren’t as heartless as you made yourself out to be. So I can learn to forgive you. But you gotta do a lot to make it up to me!”

Smiling, Spats offered her hand again for a handshake. Gaita said, “Oh, a hug is—”

“Wait, what’s going on?” asked Puttee, noticing that Spats’s hand was shaking.

Spats closed her hand a moment, but then let it fall open. “This is a result of me turning my Safety Off,” said Spats. “I’ve been treating it, but at the moment, it’s irreparable. I’ll likely never get full nerve function back. But I don’t have any regrets. It’s a good reminder of where I’ve been and what I need to learn.”

Gaita started crying, and her two sisters laughed.

Spats gave Gaita a more serious look. “I need to see what you’re capable of in combat,” she said. “I need to know if you can keep protecting Puttee.”

“Oh, you can just ride with us, and then you can protect me, too,” said Puttee.

“No, I can’t,” said Spats. “I have my own journey now, and I can’t make it on your ship. But I also can’t leave Puttee with an unworthy guard.”

Gaita giggled. “You’re always so dramatic, Spats,” she said as she got up and took her stance. Spats smiled and took a stance of her own. The fight started. Gaita expected an easy bout where she could easily prove that she had become far stronger than Spats was. Instead, she found herself pushed to her limits very quickly, and it wasn’t clear if Spats was going all-out.

Spats smirked at Gaita’s surprise. “I’ve been stress-testing,” she said. “My bioengineering is made to slowly improve function over time, but I can also improve it more quickly by exposing the system to stressors. So I modified some equipment on my ship to give myself healthy stressors, to get stronger.”

Gaita was puzzled a moment. “You mean you were…training?” she asked.

Spats scoffed. “I’m a scientist, not a jock.” After trading a few more blows with Gaita, Spats flew high into the air. “I might as well skip to the easy route.” Charging up a powerful energy blast, she fired a massive energy wave at Gaita. Shocked by the volume of the blast, Gaita fired the strongest Chelsea she could, entering into a beam clash. Gaita struggled to keep up. She did everything she could to open up more from her infinite energy generator, but she was at the limit of her powers. Spats, on the other hand, kept increasing the pressure, pumping out more and more energy.

Soon, Gaita was forced to deflect the blast. “Ok, you win that round!” she admitted. Spats looked disappointed. “Can we continue hand-to-hand? I don’t want to fire off all the energy I’ve absorbed the past couple months.”

Spats looked shocked, glancing over at the smug Puttee. “But those systems don’t…”

Reaching into her reserve energy, Gaita came in at Spats with renewed spirit. The increase in strength more than made up the difference made by Spats’s “stress-testing.” Soon, Spats found herself on the defensive, barely able to keep up with the scrapyard Android. Gaita knocked Spats down into the ground, and landed elegantly nearby.

Spats got up and wiped the trickle of blood from her nose, smiling. She laughed a big, raucous laugh and put a hand on Gaita’s shoulder. “I’m very impressed with your fighting abilities,” she said. “Especially with how Puttee made the infinite energy generator work in conjunction with the energy absorption batteries.”

“I mean, that’s all Puttee’s work…” Gaita demurred.

“Yes, but what impresses me more is how you held back on using your absorbed energy until it was needed. You’ve been equipped with amazing tools, but your intelligence and ability is what impresses me most. I’d be happy to leave Puttee in your care!” She hugged Gaita, her hands trembling on Gaita’s back. Gaita started to cry, feeling the warmth of a new sister in her arms.

The three sat down to catch up after the dust settled. “So, what have you been up to?” Puttee asked Spats.

“After leaving Cretaceous,” said Spats, “I landed on a world at war. I made a friend there, who was a lot like me. She also felt burdened by a family of warmongers and killers. It’s hard to put into words, but she’s the one who made me want to be better than I was. After helping her out, I started searching after Dragon Balls of my own, but I haven’t gotten one yet.”

“It’s kinda funny,” said Gaita. “It kinda sounds like you want to be a warrior, too. Just like me.”

“I’m not looking to be some fighting freak,” said Spats defensively. “I’m just looking for strength of character.”

“Hey, while I have you here,” asked Puttee, “can I get your opinion on some ideas? Gaita wants to be a living machine that can grow and adapt, like a real warrior.”

“Oh ho, that sounds like a challenge!” said Spats. Gaita didn’t fully grasp the rest of the conversation, but her heart warmed seeing the sisters converse so happily and excitedly. She did take away that their ideas would not be achievable on the fly. Her future was on Earth, if they succeeded in the stars. Gaita thought back to the many conversations she and Puttee had about Spats and her family after leaving Cretaceous. Puttee would go on and on about how Spats wasn’t anything like the first impression she gave, and that there was something worth saving in her. Gaita wasn’t able to see it then, but knew she wanted to be a part of her own family, which meant she needed to connect with Spats. Being able to see her at this time put everything in perspective, and she became happy to cheer for Spats’s journey to redemption.

Soon enough, Spats got up. “I should be heading out,” she said. “We really can’t be staying still too long, with the hunt going on. It won’t be long before the balls are gathered up in one place.”

“Please come with us!” Puttee begged.

“I want to, but I really can’t,” Spats said. “I have to get strong enough to carry my own dreams.”

“It’s easier to find that kind of strength among family,” said Gaita.

“I’m not ready for family yet,” said Spats. “Family has been…complicated for me.”

The Silico siblings took off for the metropolis once more. Once over the site of the Demon Clan ship, Spats gave her sisters one last hug. “I hope we can meet again,” Spats said. Puttee cried.

“We’ll be watching you from now on,” said Gaita.

“I know sacrificing my life isn’t enough to make up for what I did,” said Spats, “but I’ll do it anytime for you and your friends.”

“You really are so dramatic,” said Gaita. “Justice is for the living. Become a better person, and then we’ll talk.”

With a smile, Spats departed for her ship in orbit.

Puttee watched Spats reenter her ship and fly off. She looked around the Demon Clan battle site. “Ok, well, before we go,” said Puttee, “let’s grab a Machine Mutant body or two from down there. We can use it for parts.”

“You know,” said Gaita, “even after you added Bravo to me, this still feels like a really ghoulish source of parts.”

“It’s like being an organ donor! Come on, let’s just grab them before the guards show up.”

Sighing, Gaita flew down and grabbed a couple of the fallen Machine Mutants and flew off as fast as she could to their ship. “With these parts, I’ll make you stronger than Spats without using absorbed energy,” Puttee said. “You watch!”

Gaita rolled her eyes as guard units started chasing her. “I don’t want to be in the middle of your sibling rivalry.”

“One day, it’ll be yours,” Puttee said sarcastically. Gaita laughed. Once she got to the ship, she rushed them in fast. Puttee got them into the air and away from Plant, back on the Dragon Ball hunt with a little more hope.

#dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #anime #manga

Dragon Ball 'Beta' Chapter 7: Hitting the Fan

Torta and Dragon found a new, larger ship with more food storage on Zoon and took off towards another ball. “Wow, that was lucky!” Torta said. “We got a ball! I was expecting it to be a lot harder to get one this time around. I’m gonna tell the others!” Torta went to the radio and connected to the Rainbow Stocking and Dragon’s former ship.

“Yeah, well,” Dragon said, “the hard part is going to be holding onto this one. But while we have it, we should probably get as many others as we can, before the outstanding balls are collected by a single group. That’s when we meet up.”

“I’ll let them know.” Torta conversed with Puttee, Gaita, Regal, and the stray Scallop, trading stories. Each team was pleased to learn they had all recovered a ball. They made a map of their positions, so they could track their movements, and agreed on the meetup signal.

While Torta had this meeting, Dragon planned out their course. The next ball that they headed for was a week away, so Dragon pushed the engines to the max before he and Torta went to train. With any luck, they’d get there in time to pry this ball from the enemy.

Unfortunately, only a day out from Zoon, they found the signal moving. Dragon changed course to go after it, finding it aboard a Demon Clan ship. However, it was raided by Saiyans before they could arrive. The back and forth stealing of the ball by Demon Clan and Saiyan forces continued indefinitely. During that time, Torta and Dragon were either training, both now aided by the Devil's Tincture, or jumping into the crossfire of yet another raid, hoping to come out a ball richer.

Ten raids later, that hadn’t happened. Two months passed. Torta had caught sight of the ball once, and so knew it was the blue five-star ball. Dragon looked at the monitor after a training session. “On our current arc, the ball’s now only a day away,” he said. “The Saiyans should have it by now, and the nearest Demon Clan ship is two days away.”

“Looks like luck is on our side, finally!” Torta said. He sighed in relief. Looking around, the ship had become very messy. He had accepted that Dragon was not very worried about keeping things tidy, but it still bothered him. He could hear Gaita in his ear telling him to pick things up, and Svenex calling him a child for being so disorganized. “You know,” Torta said, “adults often show they care about themselves by keeping their space clean.”

Dragon laughed. “You know, sometimes it really shows that you had no guy friends growing up,” he said.

“Puttee is messier than you,” Torta shot back. Dragon paused over the navigation console a moment. “Can you recognize the ship or tell anything about it?”

“It looks like your average Saiyan fast attack vessel. Like a plane, but in space. Unimaginative, but aggressive and effective. What worries me is how deep into the Empire we’re getting. Big players could start showing up soon.”

“Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. Like always.”

Dragon smiled. “I know.”

The next day, the two arrived in close proximity of the enemy vessel. Torta and Dragon dried off their sweat and changed into their spacesuits. As Torta zipped his suit together, Dragon looked over and noticed that his helmet wasn’t secured properly and fixed it for him. “Thanks!” Torta said as they headed for the airlock.

Flying over to the enemy ship, Torta whistled at his progress. Though he had gotten into the habit of feeling unconfident heading into battles after his first fight with Spats, he now found himself excited heading into new battles once more, ready to test his new strength. Having an ally like Dragon turned his reasons to succeed from a weight crushing his psyche into a drive pushing him further.

As they approached the ship, chi blasts came charging at them. This time, the blasts were homing. “They’re getting smarter!” Dragon remarked. He and Torta fired their own blasts to dispel them.

Torta concentrated. “I only feel six people on board,” he said. “The strongest feels about as strong as Mussel.”

The two arrived at the ship, prompting it to take evasive action. Dragon landed on a wing first and activated his magnet boots to stick on as soon as he landed. He looked over slyly at the other wing, expecting to see Torta struggling with this task, but found Torta had smoothly attached himself as well. Torta smugly smiled and blasted the thrusters. With the ship incapacitated, Torta and Dragon made their way over to the airlock, waiting for the enemy soldiers to open up for an attack. Since they had evaded chi blasts earlier, it came as no surprise that the airlock opened quickly, with pre-suited soldiers emerging to fight. These soldiers were easily dealt with. Torta and Dragon entered.

Inside the small craft, they found a crowded flight room, with three remaining soldiers and their commander. “Attack!” ordered the commander to his troop. They were quickly slain by Dragon.

Torta charged up a BLT and pointed it directly at the commander. “Give us the Dragon Ball!” he demanded.

“Never!” the commander said before attacking. Though confined to such a small space, the commander proved very agile and adept at using the close quarters to his advantage. It took a moment for the two heroes to get a read on his strategy and pin him to the floor. Once Dragon had done so, Torta pointed a Slider right at his heart and fired.

Dragon clapped Torta on the back. “Remember how recently it was an enemy like him would have given us trouble?”

Torta laughed. “We can get past anything, as long as we put in the effort!” Torta looked around the ship and found the Dragon Ball, the blue five-star ball. Grabbing it, he showed it to Dragon, and they both cheered. Finally, they had gotten ahold of a prize they were chasing for two months, and two balls gave them a notable advantage over their adversaries.

The computer panel on the ship raised an alarm, and so the two checked it out. Another, much larger ship was headed right for them, showing no signs of stopping or charging weapons. “Oh, no!” Torta said. “At that size, it won’t suffer major damage from a collision! We’re going to get smashed!” He took the controls and clumsily pointed the ship towards a nearby planet, hoping to get somewhere safer. Dragon gulped, recognizing the ship’s ID code on the screen.

The rough, untrained entry into the planet’s atmosphere was shaky and nerve-wracking, but with the ship’s autopilot taking control, Torta was able to get them on land. That area of the planet was warm and covered in sparse steppes. Tall, thin, rocky mountains jutted vertically out of the ground across the landscape. A quick read of the instruments told Torta the air was breathable. Torta quickly stepped outside, looking up and stretching in anticipation of the enemy. Dragon slowly trudged out, and Torta noted the lack of enthusiasm. “What’s up?” he asked.

“The ship headed for us,” Dragon said, “belongs to Bagaruta. She’s the most powerful officer in the Saiyan Empire, second only in power to Daikon. And that’s despite how she’s never been able to go Super Saiyan.”

Torta whistled at the idea of such a big shot headed their way. “Well, after all that training, I feel ready,” Torta said. “If we team up, I’m sure we can beat someone like Bagaruta. You’re remembering past battles, but you’re about to compare that to your current abilities. It’s exciting, isn’t it?”

Dragon smiled, happy to have a partner so able to put him at ease.

Soon, the shadow of Bagaruta’s ship darkened the skies above them. Dozens of chi could be felt inside, though none felt particularly strong. “Bagaruta doesn’t flaunt her power like the others,” Torta noted.

“Yeah, she’s always been wily and strategic,” Dragon concurred.

Two dozen soldiers emerged from the ship and surrounded Torta and Dragon. Then another pair of soldiers emerged. One held a trumpet and made fanfare, while the other held a scroll. “I now announce the arrival of the venerable General Bagaruta of the Saiyan Empire!” he said.

Out from the ship descended a surprisingly short and skinny woman with long, wild hair, her tail waving freely in the air, instead of the usual belt-style wrap over her armor. “Heya, Dragon!” she said upon landing. “Good to see you again!”

Torta took a stance, expecting the surrounding soldiers to attack or go into the ship at any moment. “Is being that flamboyant part of her usual ‘strategy’?” he asked Dragon. Dragon didn’t respond. He was focused, dead-serious, on Bagaruta. “This time is going to be different, man. You’ve grown a lot.”

All around them, the Saiyans laughed derisively, calling out “No-Tail!” with glee. Dragon bristled at this chorus. Torta looked back over at the condescending Bagaruta and saw her flitting her tail back and forth, mocking Dragon. Torta started to yell in defense of Dragon, but Dragon unleashed his chi, letting his overwhelming power quiet the footsoldiers. “Your abuse never made me weaker, or you stronger!” Dragon defiantly announced. “Now I’ll show you.”

Bagaruta chuckled and sighed. “I’ll admit, your chi does feel far greater than before,” she said. “Last time we fought, it was so puny that I thought you were dead! Lucky you! But this time, I’ll make sure the job is done.” One of the soldiers started moving towards the smaller craft, but Bagaruta stopped him. “Don’t! Only I will fight. I’ll get the balls when I win. There’s no point in losing good soldiers.”

“Try to hang back a second and watch her moves for a bit,” Dragon told Torta.

“We should be able to take her down,” Torta said.

“Don’t be so cocky,” Dragon said.

“Yeah, don’t be so cocky,” said Bagaruta, from behind Torta and Dragon. The heroes flinched in surprise. With a wave of her hand, she knocked the two back with wind pressure. Bagaruta went on the assault, focusing on Dragon at first. Her force was overwhelming, putting him on the defensive. Torta was shocked; he was sure the two of them were far above Mussel by that point, and Bagaruta was fighting so casually. She laughed. “I guess you’ve gotten strong enough to make this a real fight!”

Seeing enough to satisfy his curiosity, Torta jumped in to help Dragon, knocking Bagaruta in her ribs. Rolling out, she coughed. “Wow!” she said. “Are you actually stronger than Dragon, lowly human?” She then charged at him. On the receiving end, Torta realized just how intense Bagaruta really was; though her moves appeared effortless, they were incredibly precise and polished like few he had ever seen.

Dragon rejoined the battle, making it two-on-one. Together, they actually managed to push back against her defenses. Snarling, Bagaruta landed a powerful punch into Torta’s gut and then slammed him deep into the ground. By the time Torta recovered and emerged, she had thrown Dragon far into the sky. Her keep-away game was fairly strong. The two of them had to keep regrouping, taking turns firing chi blasts at a distance while the other went in close. Each time, Bagaruta would knock away the challenger in her face and swiftly turn to face the incoming partner. With each pass, Torta could see her defenses being worn down. “If we keep this up, we can win!” Torta told Dragon.

Annoyed with these pests, Bagaruta focused her chi and knocked both away at once with an explosive wave. “We’ll win no matter what!” Dragon told her. “Our teamwork already has the upper hand, and we’ve got a couple other tricks up our sleeves. Since Hedarrow already made the first wish, you have no way of turning the tables on us. Little Miss Superior can’t transform!”

The surrounding soldiers began to laugh. Dragon was confused, and Torta got a bad feeling. “SILENCE!” Bagaruta barked to the soldiers. They quickly silenced. She scowled at Dragon. “Your information is out of date, though I am dishonored to use the royal form to beat a No-Tail.” While Dragon and Torta looked on in shock, Bagaruta transformed into a Super Saiyan, her power far exceeding anything Torta had encountered.

The Super Saiyan warrior playfully beat the heroes around. “Daikon secluded himself for a couple months to train recently,” she said. “He was sure that there was something beyond Super Saiyan power. I was his training partner in that time, and with the emperor’s help, I unlocked my transformation! Even the power you once feared Daikon possessing is nothing compared to what he’s currently capable of! This beating I’m giving you is a tiny taste!”

Torta was devastated by the assault. He had really thought he was making the kind of progress needed to overcome the enemies ahead, but Bagaruta blew that assumption out of the water. One wrong target in Dragon Ball theft could have spelled his doom these past couple months. Even now, he was lucky to survive the assault. It was like Spats all over again, except Bagaruta clearly intended to kill him. Dragon was similarly ground down, but Torta recognized a look of hopelessness in his eyes. He flinched, remembering how he promised Dragon they could take on anyone together. Torta considered using Dagwood, but knew their combined power would not be enough, and Bagaruta would kill Dragon while he was defenseless.

With a burst of indignant anger, Torta charged in at Bagaruta while she pounded Dragon mercilessly. She didn’t even respond when Torta punched her in the face. With a single swing of her hand, she repelled Torta, backhanding him into the dirt. He looked up in time to see Bagaruta fire a beam through Dragon’s chest. “NO!” Torta called out in disbelief and anger. He flew in again, only to lose consciousness with the next strike.

#dragon ball #dbz #manga #anime #fanfic

The First Interlude!

Today, I posted the first interlude story for Dragon Ball 'Redux'! After looking at the stories I wanted to include in this series, and thinking about how the anime's different series inspired my breaking this fanfiction down into distinct series, I decided that if the anime has movies, I can have "movies" as well. These interlude stories are focused on characters that don't normally get the spotlight, and on events that fall outside the normal flow of the narrative that I still want and need to highlight. There will be more interludes throughout the series, and each will be marked as an interlude to the overall story, and like this one, will tell you when they take place. it's just a flourish that lets me introduce stuff at more opportune times without stretching the rest of the story, and have fun with people who aren't in the main cast. Enjoy!

#dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #manga #anime

Dragon Ball 'Redux' Interlude One: The Adventure of Spats

This story begins during Spats’s battle with the Earthling heroes on Cretaceous.

Her every nerve was burning like the ninth ring of hell, such was the strain of her desperation tactic. But it was successful; laying before Spats were the immobilized forms of Torta, Regal, and Gaita, and so she could claim victory. Her genius could not be questioned, and would certainly show Puttee what she was made of. With a grunt, she turned her Safety On again, and the burning subsided, unlike the pain.

She went for the last of the Dragon Balls, helpfully left out in the open by her sister’s overconfident crew. She was just seconds away from accomplishing a wish she had been holding onto for over a decade. A wish that, under other circumstances, Spats would have made with her sister. She couldn’t tell Puttee any of this, even as she yearned to.

“I’ll never let you give the king control of the universe!” Puttee said in a futile and misplaced tantrum.

Under other circumstances, Spats wouldn’t respond to this sort of outburst. “You would want my wish to come true, too,” said Spats between ragged breaths. “You share it.” Puttee’s expression changed, looking into Spats’s eyes. Though betrayal and years of pain separated the sisters, Spats wanted so much to share this moment with the only person who would feel the same as her. Spats could tell that Puttee had caught on, but even still, it was too late for words.

Then a strange alien descended in a Demon Clan ship. He killed the first Cretaceous Namekians that surrounded him upon exiting. “Stealing that Demon Clan ship was worth it,” he said with a smirk. “I get to slip in under the radar, and some other bunch of rubes has done the hard work already!”

“Who are you?!” Spats demanded to know. Not that she needed to; the ensuing battle was a foregone conclusion.

“I’m Hedarrow, warrior of the Saiyan Empire!” the man introduced himself. “I’m going to claim these Dragon Balls for my emperor, Daikon!”

Spats could barely move, but she still charged into the fight. She didn’t back down to anyone, especially kings and emperors. At first, she was pleased, as she could still overpower the alien, despite her weakened physical state. But then, the alien’s hair turned yellow, his power rating exploded, and she was no longer the superior figure. Things went black.

The next thing Spats remembered was another alien, seemingly of the same species as the last, talking to Puttee and her friends. The body of the alien who defeated her was laying in the ground, and the Dragon Balls were gone. “…the Empire was planning to put tracking nanites on the Dragon Balls,” said the second alien, “so that they could be tracked more easily. I actually have the signal for them, too; follow that, and it’s way more accurate than anything else on the market. But of course, that also means—”

Spats jumped to her feet and demanded what she would need to continue her mission. She didn’t actually recall anything she said or did, and it didn’t matter. She had to get those details.

What Puttee asked Spats was the next thing she did remember clearly. “Is this your duty to the crown?”

Spats was incredibly moved by this memory of happier times revived by her sister. “Yes,” Spats said after a pause.

“Give her the frequency,” Puttee said. “And if any of you don’t like it, I suggest you try to stop her now.”

Spats knew that Puttee had, indeed, figured out her game. She could feel the walls tumbling down, but it was not that moment. There was still the mission. She hardened her resolve.

This moment of sentiment made her space out again. The alien brought her back to attention. “…but why should I trust you? Spats, was it?”

“All I care about is the mission,” Spats said. “I…I have to keep doing this. The king gave me money, and I have my mission.”

It felt like this surprisingly attractive stranger was staring into her soul. “Ok, I guess it does help me if you have it,” he said. He pressed a button. “I’ll pass it along once the ship lands.”

Spats rushed into the ship as soon as it landed and headed for the control deck. The alien stepped in and booted up his files. “You know,” he said, “I get it. Living for the mission. That’s been my life, too. It helps if you have something besides the mission, though.”

“Just give me the frequency,” Spats said.

“Ok, ok. I heard a bit of their story out there, but I get the feeling you’re not really working for some despot. I like a woman with moxie like you.” He motioned to the screen, which had the frequency and related intelligence. Spats frantically memorized it. “I’m sure you know what’s motivating you, but some advice: Dig deeper.”

Spats left the ship without another word. She quickly rushed over to her own ship, ready to get back to her work. Before she closed the door behind her, she stopped, remembering how her sister backed her up a moment before. She turned to Puttee. “I’ll see you later,” Spats promised. She then got her ship up and running, and was soon in space, headed towards the nearest signal.

She took a moment to set her head straight. There was a long adventure ahead of her, and she was aware that there were a lot of other powerful enemies after the Dragon Balls on this new hunt. She was now alone, with only her own power, with an even slimmer chance of getting her wish granted. Not that now was too different than before. Alpha and Bravo were little more than drones; she didn’t even program them to talk. The entire mission, besides getting her wish, was to prove that she could make better technology than Puttee, and they were sufficient for that. She didn’t want dolls as friends, at her age. She had enough of that, tinkering with AI while trying to fulfill her father’s ridiculous request for her to recreate Puttee’s infinite energy generator.

With that thought came an image of Gaita, the Android Puttee clearly made out of loneliness from missing Spats. Somehow, seeing how the relationship between Gaita and Puttee was damaged and repaired, and then seeing Gaita wearing Bravo’s hair, made Spats question her first impression of the robotic mirror. Gaita and Puttee were not like Spats and Puttee, even as kids. There were so many ways Gaita was different than Spats physically, as well. She was clearly a new sister, though not Spats’s.

Once more, Spats set her head straight. The navigation had her two weeks out from the nearest ball. She had to assume that the enemies ahead would be more than what she’s seen before, so she would have to be careful as she moved. She didn’t want to get caught up in pointless battles; she never wanted to be a fighter in the first place. She wasn’t like Puttee’s muscle-bound friend, who somehow overcame her. She wasn’t like that Namekian they ran with, or like Gaita. Thinking back on it, she did feel a kinship with that new alien she met at the end. She warmed a little, recalling what he said, and realizing she wished he was flirting.

Spats slapped herself, determined to keep her head on straight. She went to the sick bay and began running scans on her body. As expected, turning her Safety Off caused severe nerve damage, which looked irreparable. There was also notable muscle and circulatory tissue damage, but much more easily healed than her potential nervous disability. Even still, she took to the task of fixing herself up as best she could, using all her bioengineering know-how. She kept at it for days as she flew.

A week after heading out from Cretaceous, Spats’s ship was hit by a powerful plasma charge. Pulling herself away from sick bay, Spats looked outside and found herself in the middle of a space battle between crafts of unknown design. Her engines were badly damaged, and hull integrity was dropping rapidly. She cursed herself for leaving the forcefield down while absorbed in detailed work. She had to land right away, or she would die before getting her wish. She was passing by a planet at the time, one with a habitable atmosphere, so she went for an emergency landing. She was reluctant to do so, since she knew the chances were high this planet was what the people who shot her were fighting over.

The landing was rough, but she managed to do it without causing more major damage to her ship. All around her, she found an ongoing battle, with ships like she saw in space on the field. She cursed and put the war front out of her mind, focusing instead on her ship and the damage it took. Spats got out and inspected it rapidly. She would need to make several major repairs, requiring her to find parts and spend at least a day working on it. All time she didn’t have.

Before she could turn to identify the nearest ship to cannibalize for parts, Spats was hit by a barrage of chi blasts. She stumbled forward and found herself being approached by a large squadron of aliens, from myriad species. It was a ragtag bunch, with only a badge identifying them as a group. Scoffing at their insolence, Spats got ready to tear through the whole group. There was no need for words; she recognized obstacles when she saw them. The average energy rating of the soldiers was even lower than Torta’s at their first meeting. With a few strikes, she took down the first few who approached her.

Another figure appeared, an enemy of those attacking Spats. This figure was covered in white, armored growths, with blue skin, and a vaguely reptilian appearance. Their body was adorned with green gem-like growths at various points. With a calm but incredibly determined look, this newcomer tore through the attackers like paper.

Spats watched with caution as this strange alien landed near her. The alien raised a hand. “I’m Jockey, a traveling Frost Demon,” she introduced herself. “Can you get off planet? You have no chi, and outsiders are easy targets. I don’t want you getting hurt. This battle is my problem.”

Spats could not have cared less about any of this at the time. “I don’t need anyone telling me to get moving!” said Spats. “Get away from me! I don’t want more of your enemies becoming my enemies!”

Jockey began to respond, but was interrupted. More enemy soldiers arrived, attacking the pair with chi blasts. Spats flew away from her ship to protect it, and away from Jockey to avoid being lumped together. “There’s Jockey!” one of the soldiers said. “And an ally of Jockey!” Before Spats could respond, he destroyed her ship. In a rage, Spats annihilated the entire troop.

Spats approached Jockey next. “You idiot!” she yelled, venting her anger. “I don’t need your ‘help,’ and your ‘help’ just dragged me further into this warzone! I have a mission to complete!”

Much to her surprise, Jockey wilted and looked incredibly pained and guilty. “I’m sorry for my mistake,” said Jockey. “I…I don’t want anyone getting hurt in this battle.”

Something about the look on her face struck a familiar chord for Spats. She felt some connection between them. She sighed. “What’s going on here, then?” she asked. “I should know what I’m stuck in.”

“Well, I’m here to bolster the defenses of this planet,” said Jockey. “It’s being attacked by an invading army that wants to control the industrial resources here. The invading general is named Bever, who works for…a really dangerous man. This planet will fall without me.”

Spats squinted in suspicion. There was clearly something important Jockey wasn’t telling her, but a quick scan of the area told her the gist of it was true. The soil looked rich in minerals and there were signs of mining all around them. “I’ll help you end this invasion fast,” Spats told Jockey, “if you promise to get me a ship afterwards.”

“Thanks,” Jockey said quietly as an energy wave hit her in the back of the head.

“You traitor!” the attacking soldier said. “You’ll never ruin our plans!”

Jockey prepared to engage with this soldier. “Stop!” said another man. He was a tall alien with red skin and prominent horns, wearing military-grade armor. Even relaxed, his power rating was nearly as high as Spats’s.

Jockey’s reaction told Spats not to be surprised at the introduction. “Bever…” Jockey said.

“I’ll kill you myself,” Bever said with a sneer. “None of my soldiers are up to the task, after all.” Bever quickly rushed in at Jockey while the previous soldier attacked Spats. Though he was tougher than the others, he was no match for the Android. He was joined by a large group of elite soldiers, and so Spats was stuck working her way through another squad of cannon fodder, the quintessential reason she found fighting to be a pointless bore.

Looking over, Spats found Jockey to be in over her head against Bever. Jockey’s own power rating was equal to Spats’s, but Bever’s was far higher, and he was effortlessly beating her into the ground. He grabbed her by the neck and choked her, a look of extreme pain on Jockey’s face. “You’re a fool for thinking you could beat me in that form,” Bever said.

Despite herself, Spats felt an urgent need to rescue Jockey. With a quick burst of energy, Spats did away with her last attacker and kicked Bever across his jaw, causing him to release Jockey. She then flew to Jockey and activated her forcefield, keeping the bewildered Bever at bay. Raising a hand up, Spats released a large flash of light, enough to blind Bever, and with her retreat guarded, Spats flew Jockey away from the battle.

“What are you doing?” Jockey asked once in safety.

Spats cursed at herself. “I don’t know, either,” said Spats. “I just couldn’t watch you die.”

“I can’t die from choking,” Jockey said. “My people can survive in space. It takes a lot to kill me.”

Spats continued to beat herself up for being sentimental, but was interrupted when Jockey attacked her. Spats defended. “What are you doing?!” she demanded.

“I have to get you out of the way!” Jockey said. “Otherwise, you won’t let me fight Bever.”

“Yeah, because he’s going to kill you!”

“I have to fight him! No one here can beat him.” A tear welled in Jockey’s eye. “This will not be another world for him to conquer. I won’t fail in my mission.”

“Look, I’m an Android. I have unlimited energy and a forcefield. I can help you. He’ll run out of steam, and then—”

“No, drawing out the fight will encourage Bever to ignore us and slaughter civilians.”

Angry, Spats attacked Jockey, wanting to slap some sense into her, but her nerves rebelled against her, causing her body to go into spasms. Jockey helped her to stabilize. “Are you ok?” Jockey asked. “Are you sick?”

“Be quiet,” Spats commanded. “I can manage. If we team up, we can beat Bever, and any civilians he kills in the battle will be less than if he controls the planet, right?” She winced, wondering if she would ever regain full control of her nerves. Spats got up. “He’s going to want to kill me now, too, so I’m going to fight anyway. I have an ace in the hole, so I know I can beat him. No matter what’s in front of me, or what I do to myself, I have to complete the mission.”

Hearing this, Jockey became fearful. Before she could say anything else, Bever landed with a growl. “I am beyond annoyed with your little trick, Earthling!” he seethed. The two women took stances as Bever rushed in. He quickly beat Spats down, forcing her to activate the forcefield. Once she had, he turned his attention to Jockey, keeping Spats at bay with chi blasts. He laughed. “Your still living head will be an excellent gift for your brother, Jockey!”

Hearing these words, everything about the battle and Jockey’s behavior clicked for Spats. Like her, Jockey was from a family of warmongers, in this case headed by an older brother, and she, too, carried the burden of all the blood incurred by her family’s soldiers. Spats looked again at Jockey and saw what she would be like if she were strong enough to rebel against her father, instead of being so fearful of failure that she played along, blaming her runaway sister for all her problems.

Spats flew in, dodging Bever’s blasts, and tackled him off of Jockey. “I’ll win this fight for you!” Spats said. “I don’t care what you have to say about it!” Nerve spasms wracked her body. “If I fall here, I was never worthy of my mission, anyway.”

Bever charged back in, laughing at her confidence. Spats put up her forcefield to buy time and, steeling herself for the pain, turned her Safety Off. Once more, the sheer, unimaginable, ever-growing volume of energy coursing through her body lit her up like a solar flare. She collapsed from the recoil on her nerves. Dropping the forcefield, Spats stood back up. “I’ll kill you,” she said with quiet confidence. Bever was suspicious of the change, but charged in anyway. Spats effortlessly blocked his strike and assaulted him with a devastating barrage.

Jockey looked to Spats with awe. Then she noticed the look of extreme anguish and pain in her eyes, and through the blur of Spats’s speed, saw how much her body was trembling. Jockey knew that if Spats kept this up, she would die from her own pride before she was killed by anyone else. It was Jockey’s turn to handle things, and her new friend’s courage gave her some, as well. “Power down,” Jockey said, putting a hand on Spats’s shoulder. Spats turned to her in protest, but saw a completely different person. This new Jockey was a little taller and much more muscular, such that she was proportioned like someone short and stocky. Her armor looked thicker and had spikes in various places. Her power rating was several times what it was before. Bever, too, looked shocked and afraid.

Spats turned her Safety On, feeling an unbelievable cooling sensation as the heat died down. Jockey walked past her towards Bever. “I could have always killed you in an instant,” Jockey said, “but I was afraid of my own power. It always controlled me. But I guess I don’t need control, do I?” With a laugh that betrayed bloodthirst, Jockey assaulted Bever, and their positions were reversed. Bever was helpless against Jockey in this massive, aggressive form. She laughed as she broke bones all over his body. “I’ll cause you as much pain as you’ve caused others under Esky’s orders!” she cried. Jockey charged energy at the end of her finger.

Bever spat on her. “I refuse to die by the Horror Beam!” he said.

Jockey cruelly laughed. “You don’t get a choice!” she said. With a single thin but powerful burst, Jockey fired a hole through Bever’s head, killing him instantly. She then turned to the battlefield. “I’ll end this war right now, too!” Jockey raised her hand and charged up a massive energy bomb, with enough strength to blow up half the planet.

Stunned, Spats flew in front of Jockey. “Stop!” she said. “Remember why you’re fighting! I refuse to let you be the villain of this story!”

Jockey scowled. “I don’t care about the cost,” she said. “As long as Esky doesn’t get this planet, I’m happy!”

Jockey nearly threw the bomb. “Are you angry about what your brother has done,” Spats asked, “or that you have to fight your brother?”

Her resolve broke, and Jockey powered down her attack. She fell to her knees. “I never wanted my family to be my enemy,” she said. “But he’s leaving me no choice. It’s like…he always had ambition, but he was never this motivated, never so insightful, never so brutal. A flip switched in him one day, and he’s left me no choice.”

Spats put an arm on her shoulder. “You still get to choose how to fight this battle.”

Smiling, Jockey reverted to her previous state.

The remaining soldiers were left in chaos without their commander. Those in positions of authority tried to marshal their forces, but it was to no avail. Jockey and Spats charged the field. With a concerted effort, the two cleared the area of all of Bever’s soldiers by the next morning.

After some rest and an unwanted celebration from the army they assisted, Spats and Jockey perused the leftover ships. “Will you be fine on your own?” Spats asked Jockey.

“I’ll figure it out,” said Jockey. “Seeing you so willing to destroy yourself for me, I felt so cowardly for not wanting to use my power. Now it’s time to control it. I do wish I could help you with your mission, though.”

“We’re on different paths,” Spats said. “I appreciate the offer.”

Eventually, Spats settled on a medium-sized vessel with a good mix of speed and facilities. She got in and prepared it for her occupation, and entered the frequency for the Dragon Ball nanites. She stuck her head out before she left. “One day,” she said to Jockey, “after my mission is over, I’ll come help you with yours.”

Jockey smiled. “I’ll always welcome you as a sister on the battlefield,” she said. Spats allowed herself to admit she was touched. “If I manage to finish first, I’ll join up with you.”

With a final wave, Spats left Jockey, a sense of hope and purpose rising within her as her ship rose into the air. No longer was Spats satisfied simply proving she was worthy of anyone else’s attention; she had to be fit to carry out her own dreams.

#dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #manga #anime

Dragon Ball 'Beta' Chapter 6: A Change of Heart

Regal looked on as her friends and allies emptied their rooms of the personal belongings and resources they would be taking to their respective ships. Dragon, the dashing and capable stranger, whisked away her rival to a ship belonging to her sworn enemies while lending his own ship so that the constant and reliable Silico siblings could go off on their own. Soon, it was just her, alone in her duty.

This arrangement was suggested by Regal herself; not simply their going in three teams, which meant she would not join Puttee and Gaita so that each team would have two fighters, but also her being the odd one out. She assured everyone that she would be fine with the solitude, and that the teams which formed in this plan were ideal. She even told the team that she was looking forward to it, with nothing to distract her from her training.

Bringing the Rainbow Stocking into the air, Regal had it turned in the direction of a ball located a month away from Cretaceous. Puttee assured her that the ship’s autopilot was reliable enough to get her there, so Regal took a jug of water into the gravity chamber, ready to put herself to work. The only time Regal had actually been alone before was when she left Kami Okome to continue training on her own. It was a somewhat rash decision on her part, and the experience was unusual. She was not aware before how much she relied upon the presence of others, since she had based her whole life around being in close proximity to the Grand Elder. That time alone allowed her to expand upon what she had learned was her greatest joy in Kamiland.

This time, it was different. Though the looming doom of Dr. Munster’s plot gave her a serious reason to work, the entire experience felt prepared and safe, with everyone involved properly equipped, if still challenged greatly. At this moment, she had no idea whether or not she would be strong enough to face the next challenge, or if she would even get to the next challenge. A Demon Clan ship carrying Malacol could arrive the next day and slaughter her so she doesn’t interfere in the ball hunt. Even mechanical failure could spell death, since she was no mechanic.

Regal turned the gravity up to 100G and pushed these thoughts from her mind. No matter what could happen, she was certain that she could get stronger if she put in the work, and that doing so would help her avoid defeat at the hands of more powerful enemies she was certain were lurking. Though Malacol appeared in her imagination as an invincible devil, she had to believe that Malacol was just a Namekian like her. She had to believe.

For the next few weeks, Regal worked at 100G. She expected to increase the gravity after a while, but found her growth slowed noticeably without the Devil's Tincture. Beyond that, it was a large milestone to even get to 100G, and she found there was a lot more waiting for her at that level.

A little over three weeks in, and Regal took a more extended break than usual. She learned she needed to force herself to stop sometimes to avoid injury. Going up to the cockpit, she looked at the navigation monitor and found that her course was changed from when she started out. Alarmed, she checked the logs. Apparently, two weeks after she left, the ball she was locked onto was removed from its location, and the Rainbow Stocking simply changed direction to follow the enemy ship without notifying her. The enemy ship was now stopped on a nearby planet, where Regal would land within a few hours. Incredibly angry with the sudden shock, Regal spent those hours meditating, hoping her body would relax and rest enough from her training by then, besides her need to work out her frustration with the unknown detour. She focused her mind on her goals and what it would mean for the Earth and herself to be able to revive those killed by Conch.

A few hours later, she arrived at the designated planet. She looked down over the surface as the ship came to a landing. It was beginning to develop life, and had a lush coat of freshly-evolved flora on the surface, but lacked any intelligent life. The only signs of civilization were the clashing chis Regal felt near where the computer said the Dragon Ball was. She set out, ready to test her progress.

Once she got there, she found a field strewn with the bodies of Demon Clan soldiers and Saiyan warriors. A few more stood and watched as their commanders fought with one another. The Namekian had the edge in the fight, and both had far greater chi than Super Saiyan Hedarrow.

“Look!” one of the Saiyan soldiers shouted, spotting Regal. Everyone else turned to note her.

“Ah, , the Grand Elder’s toy soldier,” the Demon Clan commander sneered. “Attack, soldier!”

“Kill that intruder!” concurred the Saiyan commander.

Soon, Regal was swarmed with presumed cannon fodder. At first, it appeared that these soldiers were a bit more than average, as they possessed more complex teamwork than most groups. However, Regal was left unimpressed with the Demon Clan’s inability to coordinate themselves around the strategies of the Saiyans, and vice versa. Her initial appraisal of the two groups was accurate, after all. One by one, Regal tore through the lot until she was the only one left standing.

Just as she had finished, she saw the Demon Clan commander slam the Saiyan commander into the ground. She then fired a massive energy wave, drilling a hole into the bedrock. Deep in that hole, a charred Saiyan body could be seen. She turned to Regal and sighed. “You know, good help is so hard to come by,” she said. “Those soldiers were better trained than most. Well, I’m Mantle, and the ball we’re fighting over is in the Saiyan ship, as you likely know. I’ll kill you personally and claim it. I’m more than enough for you, and I have…reliable backup en route. You alone are not enough to topple Malacol’s empire.” Mantle charged in, starting out the fight at full power. Regal had trouble keeping pace, unsure even what she was capable of after training alone for so long. Mantle’s assault was intense and overwhelming, keeping Regal entirely on the defensive. She managed to keep up, but it was difficult.

A flash of thought went through Regal’s mind, an image of Torta looking at her struggle with disappointment in his eyes. It was a trick she used to keep herself on track while training alone the first time, and it helped here, as well. Marshalling her senses, she found an opening and took the offensive. With this initiative, Regal was able to push Mantle back and even deal some real damage. Mantle cursed this unexpected power. For a moment, Regal felt some confidence, that perhaps her training had paid off, and could continue to pay off. After knocking away Mantle’s arms, Regal cried, “Uriel!” and burned away one of Mantle’s eyes with eye beams.

Then an unexpected chi blast knocked Regal over. She looked to her side and found another Demon Clan ship arrived, and from it came another officer. Mantle turned to this officer and said, “Well, hello there, Scallop! I’m really glad to see you! This dumb slug is proving far too annoying, so I could use some help ending this quickly. We have a schedule to keep, after all.” Mantle turned to Regal and smirked. “Malacol always wins!”

Seeing this pair of formidable enemies and their matching upturned antennae, Regal lost all the confidence she had begun to feel. Victory over Mantle already felt a questionable prospect, so adding on Scallop made victory an impossible dream. All those years by the Grand Elder’s side, training to overcome these enemies, felt wasted; she didn’t even truly know how strong they were, until now.

Scallop looked down her nose at Regal, a look of utter contempt. Mantle composed herself. “Come on, Scallop,” Mantle invited. “Let’s kill this whelp together!”

“Sure thing,” Scallop agreed, charging up an energy blast in her hand. She fired this blast at Mantle, an opening volley in a ferocious attack on her compatriot.

Mantle was baffled and pushed back. “What are you thinking?!” she demanded.

“I will no longer be a servant to Malacol’s will!” Scallop said. “She’s a despot who will drive the universe to ruin!”

Regal was shellshocked. The battle raged on in the skies above her. She simply couldn’t believe it was happening at all. It had never occurred to her that a member of the Demon Clan could rebel against Malacol. It was enough to shake her worldview to its foundations. She just kept looking up at the antennae of the two fighters, proof that it was a fight between children of Malacol.

Scallop had a good showing at the beginning of the fight, having made the most of her surprise attack. However, that surprise was far from enough to carry her to victory. Scallop knew it was always going to be a hard battle, from the moment Mantle radioed for backup, but she still thought she would fare better. She wasn’t even able to wound Mantle in her opening strikes. Soon enough, Mantle had gotten Scallop in a chokehold, squeezing so tight that Scallop worried her head would pop off. Mantle laughed. “Malacol is going to get a kick out of this!” she said. “And me so quickly and loyally killing a traitor will help me rise in the ranks! And to sweeten the pot, I’ll kill Regal in a few seconds, too!”

Scallop felt herself fall to the ground, the pressure on her neck vanished. She looked up to see Regal, back on her feet and looking far more imposing and commanding than before, engaging in an even fight with Mantle. Though she could swear it was safe to count Regal out just moments before, she now looked like the contender to bet on.

Having seen this unusual turn of events, Regal’s hope burned brighter than it ever had. Life had endless possibilities, and nothing was guaranteed, even the undying loyalty of the Demon Queen’s own children to their parent. Regal let go of her doubts once more and felt the full force of her spirit in her fists, pounding Mantle into her proper place below her as an inferior warrior. Mantle was knocked high into the sky, indignant at this outrage. She charged up a massive energy bomb. “I’ll destroy this entire planet right here and now!” she announced. “I’ll sift through the rubble for the Dragon Ball!”

Regal furrowed her brow, impressed with the size of the blast, and Scallop cowered in fear. As Mantle released this bomb, Regal confidently held her fist out at her side, calling out, “Jophiel!” and firing a massive energy wave. The wave hit the bomb and, with its narrower tip, pierced into it, tunneling through Mantle’s planet destroyer. It came out the other side and burned a hole through Mantle’s torso, causing her bomb to dissipate like so much smoke.

With Mantle’s body hitting the ground, Scallop was left speechless, unable to process both her gratitude and indignation. Regal landed beside her and looked down upon her with suspicion. Scallop quickly rose to her feet and attacked Regal. “I’d rather die than give into the wicked words of the false Grand Elder’s follower!” she said.

Regal sighed, deciding to entertain this charade for a moment. Having seen her abilities up close, Regal considered Scallop close to Spats, in rough terms, far from the strength needed to get through the fights ahead, let alone this fight she lost. Her guts to jump into the fight anyway made Regal chuckle in delight. “I’ll get all the Dragon Balls for myself!” Scallop insisted as she fought, Regal defending effortlessly. “I’ll take Malacol’s place and rule the universe benevolently! The Grand Elder refused, and that’s why Malacol rose to power! You must be similarly weak in conviction!”

With a single arm lock, Regal held Scallop in place. She leaned into Scallop’s ear. “No matter what you want, I’m going to take you on my ship and use you as a training partner,” she said. “We’re both being chased by the Demon Clan now, so we can be chased together. If you refuse to cooperate, and thus refuse to get strong enough to win a fight for a change, I’ll happily use you as a punching bag. Understand?”

“Fine, fine!” agreed Scallop, calming down. “But me rebelling against Malacol is my own choice! It doesn’t make me your ally!”

Regal rolled her eyes as she dragged Scallop back to the Rainbow Stocking. A smile creeped across her face as she did so. Though Malacol remained beyond her reach, she somehow saw this defector as a source of real hope that Namek could return to the way it once was.

#dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #anime #manga

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