The Trepidation of the Spheres
A Dragonball Z fanfic by Stella Quetzacotl
First created: Jan 8, 2002
Last modified: Jul 21, 2002

~~~~~Legal
Stuff~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is a work of fiction written for entertainment purposes only.
All
DBZ characters are the property of Akira Toriyama and FUNimation.  All
other characters are the property of the author.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


~~~~~Text
Conventions~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[This is a character thought]
/This is a voice within a character's head/
*This is emphasized text*

Chapter One: All Fall Down

Goku wasn't sure which hurt worse - the cracked ribs, the
bruised spinal cord, the various sprains, cuts, and bruises, or the
knowledge that he'd failed.
He’d failed his friends.  Krillin and Master Roshi, stalwart
and brave despite being hopelessly outmatched, had been defeated
early
on in the fight against his newfound brother, Raditz.  The Turtle
Hermit had fallen victim to a vicious fist assault which Goku wasn’t
confident he’d even survived, and Krillin had found himself on the
wrong end of a bilious yellow ki blast.  Neither fighter had even
touched their opponent, leaving Goku to fight a completely healthy
enemy alone.  And he’d lost.
He’d failed his world.  His brother Raditz had made it brutally
clear that he and his friends - ‘Saiyans’ was the word he’d used -
would eventually make a target of Earth, and Goku allowed himself to
entertain no doubts that they could decimate the planet with little
effort if they wanted to.  [And Raditz expects me to join in that
exercise,] Goku remembered, gritting his teeth.  [I’ll die first,
I’ll
die before I attack Earth.  And then there’ll be nobody to stand up
to
Raditz and the Saiyans.]
And he’d failed his son.  The last thing Goku’d heard before
losing consciousness, resulting from a brutal and completely
unnecessary blow to the head, was Gohan’s anguished wailing.  The
four-
year-old half-alien - for that was what he was, for all that Goku had
never known of his otherworldly origins - had blasted his way free of
Raditz’s space pod and attacked his uncle, bathed in a force Goku had
only caught glimpses of before.  It was a brave charge, but ultimately
all it netted the boy was a hard blow to the face.  He’d still been
crying from it when Goku’s world darkened.
[Gohan,] Goku thought despairingly, [are you dead?  Can Raditz
add one more life to the blood on his hands?]
He shifted uncomfortably, trying to relieve the pain in his
chest.  Raditz had bound Goku’s hands behind his back and stuffed him
in the cargo area behind his pilot’s seat in an extremely awkward
fetal
position.  Goku could wiggle and turn his head, but that was about
it.
If he craned his neck, he could see out the sole view port in the
spherical spaceship, and that was where he looked now, at the rapidly
disappearing marble that was his home.
Raditz spoke for the first time since Goku had come to.  “Say
farewell to your planet, Kakarrot,” he said roughly, doing something
at
the control console in front of him.  “It’ll be the last time you see
it for awhile.”
“Sooner than you think,” Goku retorted.
Raditz laughed.  “Perhaps.  But by that time, you’ll be wearing
a Saiyan uniform with pride.”  As Goku shuddered in revulsion -
sending
hot knives into his back and chest - Raditz turned the ship away from
Earth and accelerated.  “The trip will take one year to complete, but
don’t worry - you’ll be asleep for most of it.”
Goku swallowed past a throat gone suddenly dry.  “You should
know,” he rasped, “that I’d rather die than cooperate with you and
your
friends.”
Raditz was silent for a moment, then, “That’s your choice,
little brother.  That’s your choice.”  Vents on either side of the
pod’s ceiling opened with a hiss.  Goku had enough time to register a
sweet smell, interlaced with rubber, before sleep took him.

Bulma and Chichi almost passed the site of the disastrous
battle before Chichi, gazing worriedly out of the window of the
skyplane Bulma drove, spotted a familiar spot of orange against the
green in the fading glow of evening.  “It’s Krillin!” she cried,
pointing.
Breath caught in her throat, Bulma landed the plane and didn’t
bother turning the engine off before jumping out.  Chichi followed
and
started to trail Bulma as the older woman went to the midget monk,
but
then her sharp ears picked up a familiar sobbing.  “Gohan?”
Chichi found her son lying at the bottom of a nearby crater -
one created when Goku’s brother landed, Chichi supposed - watering the
earth with his tears and lashing his tail in agitation.  Chichi
swooped
down upon him, gathered him up in her arms, and cooed as the child
clung to her.  “Shh,” she murmured.  “Shh.  Mommy’s here.”
“Daddy…” Gohan whimpered, soaking the front of Chichi’s dress
with his waterworks. 
“I know, I know.  Don’t worry.  Daddy will be just fine.” 
Chichi realized she was lying through her teeth.  “It’s fine, just
fine.”
Meanwhile, Bulma had made it to Krillin’s side and was shaking
him frantically.  “Come on, come on, Krillin, speak to me,” she
begged.
“One word.  Please.”  Krillin, lying spread-eagled on the ground with
his gi burned to rags, did not respond.
Chichi mounted the slope of the crater with a still-sobbing
Gohan in her arms.  “Bulma?”
“I - I think he’s still alive,” Bulma said haltingly.  “He
needs a doctor, though.  He’s got burns all over his body - and I
haven’t even seen his front yet.”  Licking her lips, Bulma began to
carefully scoot her arms under Krillin’s body.  He flinched and
muttered but didn’t wake up.
Chichi looked around worriedly.  “Where’s Master Roshi?”
“Over here,” a creaky voice called weakly.  Chichi gasped and
followed the sound to a stand of bushes, where Master Roshi lay in a
position awkward enough to give her cramps just looking at him.
“Heh,”
he coughed, “I guess we embarrassed ourselves today.  I didn’t think
it
was possible for someone to be that strong.”
Chichi shifted Gohan to one shoulder so that she could wrap the
other arm around Roshi’s torso.  “Goku lost.”  It was not a question.
“Oh yes, he lost and lost badly.”  Master Roshi winced as
Chichi joggled things that had no business being joggled right then. 
“And if he fared so poorly, I fear Earth’s days are numbered.”
“Daddy!” Gohan screamed.

Piccolo, the Demon King and Goku's greatest rival up until a
few hours ago, watched the scene with some chagrin.  [So - Earth's
champion has been beaten,] he thought, and grimaced.  [I had thought
to
conquer this planet myself, but it seems someone has beaten me to it. 
It doesn't matter that the creature who defeated Goku and his friends
left quietly.  Earth is beaten already, it's just a matter of time
before our new masters move in.]
Piccolo sighed.  The only reason he was here was that he'd
sensed Goku's ki in battle with that inhuman power level - and
losing.
As he'd long since claimed Goku's blood as *his* to spill, he'd
naturally flown right to the scene, ready to smite the unknown power
with his new attack, the Light of Death - and arrived just in time to
witness Goku's ignonimous defeat.  Piccolo would have liked to tell
himself that he'd seen the wisdom of remaining out of sight when he'd
arrived and noted the ease with which the humanlike creature
(humanlike, but definitely not human) was trouncing his opponent, but
the truth was more like he'd been frozen with shock at seeing his
longtime rival being battered into the ground. [Those were supposed
to
be *my* fists in his face,] Piccolo thought angrily.  [How could this
have happened?]
No use dwelling on that now.  Piccolo powered up and flew off,
mind racing.  He had much to think about.

Krillin was not having a good day.
Mostly that was because of the arrival of Raditz, Goku’s long-
lost brother.  Krillin hadn’t been surprised to learn that Goku was
an
alien - there’d always been something inhuman about his best friend,
not counting the tail of Goku’s boyhood - but Krillin had been ill
prepared to confront this specter of Goku's origin so *explosively*. 
And he had the burns to prove it.  The Saiyan (at least Krillin
thought
that was what Raditz had called himself) had seemed disturbed at best
and possibly insane, but while the alien weilded so much raw power,
how
could Krillin or Master Roshi contest when he got it in his head to
kidnap Goku?
Not that Krillin hadn't tried.  He'd poured everything into the
battle, and all he could show for it was severely burned and
blistering
skin, several bruises, contusions, torn muscles, and a mild
concussion,
and consequently a room at the South City General Hospital.
And most recently, being held against the hospital wall by his
throat by the very creature who'd killed him a little over six years
ago - Piccolo.
"What happened?" the Demon King growled, bringing
his face in
close to show off his fangs.  It was just like Krillin had remembered
it - the full-collared cape flaring out from his shoulders, the red-
black glint in his eyes, the room swirling as his air supply was
restricted. Panicked, Krillin thrashed and yelled, but subsided when
Piccolo's hand on his throat tightened.
"I didn't come here to kill you," Piccolo rumbled
as Krillin
gasped for air.  "All I want out of you is information.  Tell me
what
you know of this creature that defeated and abducted Son Goku."
"N... no..." Krillin refused out of instinct, gripping his
captor's wrist weakly. The world was dimming.
"G...Goku..." he
rasped, then remembered belatedly that Goku was gone.  He was on his
own.
Piccolo's grip tightened.  "You think I won't kill you?  You
won't be the first or the last.  And if you won't talk, there are
others who possess the same information you do."
Krillin's eyes popped open.  [Master Roshi!]
"A...all r..right," he managed to get out through
his severely
constricted windpipe.  "L..let me g...go and... I'll t...tell
you."
Piccolo opened his hand and Krillin fell to the floor with a
thump.  His burns protested loudly, but Krillin ignored them - being
able to breathe was more important.  He sucked air gratefully,
hunched
against the wall before Piccolo.
"Well?" the Demon King rumbled after a moment.
Krillin swallowed and took a dive.  "H-his name's
Raditz," he
managed, normal breathing beginning to return to him.  "He's
Goku's
older brother."
"His *what*?"
"'S what he said," Krillin added, shrinking from
Piccolo.  "He
said that they - him and Goku - were Saiyans, and that he wanted Goku
to go off and help him conquer a planet." The memory was
becoming
clearer now - Krillin's cheek began to smart from the hit he'd taken
at
Raditz's arrival.  [That's all I need - memory pain.]  "Him and
his
friends.  He said that with him, his two buddies, and Goku, they were
the last Saiyans left.  Their planet was destroyed over twenty years
ago."  [I'm babbling,] Krillin realized, but decided not to try
to
stop.  The more information he could feed Piccolo, the less likely
the
demon would go after Master Roshi.  "Then when Goku refused to
go with
him, he kidnapped Gohan - Goku's kid - and told Goku that he had to
kill a hundred people within twenty-four hours if he wanted Gohan
back.
Then when he left, Goku and Master Roshi and I went after him." 
Krillin indicated his injuries with some chagrin.  "You
obviously know
the rest."
"You fought him, then?  Tell me of his attacks."
Krillin blinked, sighed.  "I didn't see but one.  A ki blast,
yellow, heat-based.  He moved too fast for me to see any of his
fighting style - not even a stance."
Piccolo's lip lifted with contempt.  "I see."  He
turned to
leave.
"W-wait!" Krillin's plea caught Piccolo up short.
"W-what're
you gonna do?"
"None of your concern," Piccolo said softly.
"It's none of
your concern."
"I-if you hurt Master Roshi -" Krillin began, then
stopped.  He
was in no position to be making threats.
Piccolo's chuckle hung in the air.  "I will not touch your
master.  I have a different target in mind."
He was gone, and suddenly Krillin, in addition to everything,
felt incredibly depressed.

[I can't believe I'm doing this,] Piccolo thought disgustedly,
standing in midair above Son Goku's modest abode.  [I must be going
soft.]
[No,] another part of him argued, [I'm only doing what is
necessary.  To save the Earth for myself.]
Still, Piccolo couldn't help but feel that his 'other half'
Kami-sama was having an uproarious laugh at his expense as he floated
down to the small window on the west side of the igloo-shaped house. 
Quickly, so that he couldn't change his mind, Piccolo snapped the
window latch with a controlled ki blast and pulled the window open.
At four years old, Son Gohan was the very image of his father,
tail and all.  Were he a fighter, in a few more years he may have
been
able to give his sire a run for his money, but as it was the boy was
weak, untrained, and hopelessly soft.  Piccolo grinned harshly as he
climbed through the window.  [That can change.]
As Piccolo's shadow fell over Gohan, sharply defined by the
light of the full moon, the boy muttered and rolled over, tail
twitching.  "Daddy," he murmured, limbs jerking in his
sleep. "Daddy,
no."
[What bout are you fighting, spawn of Son Goku?] Piccolo
thought.  [Do you dream of fighting your father's killer?  In your
mind, are you doing to him what he did to your sire?]  Piccolo
refused
to let himself consider the possibility that Goku was alive.  The
beating his long-haired alien opponent gave him was more than enough
to
kill him, and even if he did survive his wounds he'd probably die out
in space somewhere.  It was a shame - Piccolo had sworn to kill Goku
himself.
[But Son Goku leaves behind quite a legacy.]  Piccolo gathered
up the softly snoring bundle in the bed, blankets and all, and turned
back to the window.  Gohan did not stir.  [The boy showed amazing
potential today,] Piccolo mused, [prodigious potential.  If he could
be trained, he would be an adequate defender of the Earth - given
enough time to work a few miracles before that alien returns.]
Another
smile found its way to his face.  [And he wouldn't dare go against
his
own teacher.  Meaning that once the alien threat is removed, I can
take
Earth at my leisure with the spawn of my enemy at my right hand.] 
Carefully Piccolo cradled the boy to his chest.  [Sleep now, Son
Gohan,] Piccolo.  [Get your rest.  You'll need it.]

Vegeta took one look at the battered Saiyan lying on the ground
before him and glared fiercely at Raditz.  “You *must* be joking.”
“Please, Prince, give him a chance,” Raditz protested, his
voice taking on a whining quality.  “The planet where he grew up just
had insufficient gravity for any sort of real training.  He can be
brought up to our level, I know he can.”
Nappa squatted and plucked at the bonds wrapping Goku’s wrists.
“If these can hold him, he’s worthless as a fighter.  Throw him back,
Raditz.”
“I injured him when he fought me.  At full strength, once he
heals, he’ll be ready to train.  I give it three months before he’s
strong enough to join us in battle.”
“You are aware,” Vegeta demanded, “that Frieza has given us a
deadline of ten months to conquer this planet? We need every second
of
it.  We can’t waste time on this Kakarrot weakling.”
“We can’t waste time trying to conquer this planet by
ourselves!” Raditz countered desperately.  Sensing he was losing, he
dropped to one knee abruptly.  “Please, Prince - give my brother the
chance he deserves.”
Vegeta regarded his vassal coldly.  “Can you control him,
Raditz?”
“I can, my Prince,” Raditz answered humbly, not daring to look
up.  “I will.”
There was a long pause, in which nothing moved - Vegeta
standing in a posture that was almost a martial stance, Raditz
kneeling
before him, Nappa squatting by a prone Goku.  Even the air held its
breath.
Vegeta exhaled loudly, indicating his permission to the world
to breathe again.  “Very well. Kakarrot will join us. This had
better
be worth it, Raditz,” he added warningly.
“It will be, Prince,” Raditz assured him happily, standing. 
“I’ll make sure of it.”
It was that moment that Goku chose to begin to stir.  Nappa
stood up and Raditz took his place at his brother’s side, a hard look
on his face, draping his tail over his knee cautiously.
The last thing Goku wanted to see upon waking was his brother’s
face, but he had little choice in the matter.  Instinctually his
shoulder jerked, trying to throw a punch, but when his arms refused
to
move Goku realized he was still securely bound.  Suddenly panicky,
Goku
sat up - instigating loud complaints from his still-not-completely-
healed body - and scooted away, struggling against those bothersome
bonds.
Like lighting Raditz was beside him again, pulling him to his
feet roughly by his sprained shoulder.  Goku bit back a yell of pain
but couldn’t help jerking uncontrollably as Raditz reached down and
snapped Goku’s bonds as a stressed-out businessman would snap a
pencil.
“Welcome to your new life, Kakarrot,” the long-haired Saiyan barked,
shoving Goku away.
Arms free but otherwise no better off, Goku whirled in the
inertial embrace of Raditz’s push and crashed into a twisted and
charred tree with a whuff of forcibly expelled breath.  He dug his
fingers into the bark just as his knees buckled and hung there,
breathing deep and shudderingly.
Vegeta glared at Raditz.  “I’m beginning to change my mind.”
“His wounds haven’t healed completely,” Raditz protested. 
“You know the sleep stasis slows the healing process - “
“If you hurt him that badly, he can’t have been strong to begin
with.”
Goku’s legs decided to cooperate again and he slowly brought
himself up to his full height.  [The little guy with the spiky hair
must be the leader,] he thought.  [When he speaks, Raditz actually
looks afraid.]  He reached out with his senses, probing the extent of
the spiky-haired man's power.  [Shoot. No wonder.  Raditz doesn't
hold
a candle to this guy.] He swallowed a couple of times, then spoke
up.
“Are you the friends Raditz talked about?”
The short Saiyan looked up as if seeing Goku for the first
time.  His void-black eyes skimmed over Goku with the air of one
considering a purchase of livestock or a breeding bull, and who
didn’t
like what he saw.  Goku fought the urge to wriggle uncomfortably
under
his gaze.
“I am Vegeta, the prince and heir to the throne of the Saiyan
Empire,” the smaller man said at last. “You may call me Prince as
your
brother does.”
“I’m an Earthling.  I have no prince.”
Goku’s defiant words were rewarded with a sharp little bolt of
ki to the face that knocked him away from his supporting tree, thrown
with a motion to fast for his eyes to follow.  As he staggered,
trying
to regain his balance, Vegeta lowered his hand and turned to Raditz. 
“You said you could control him.  Prove it.”
Raditz gulped and tightened his tail around his waist.  “Y-yes,
sir.”   He approached Goku, straightening as the distance between him
and Vegeta increased, until by the time he reached Goku he was the
same
swaggering warrior he’d been on Earth.  Goku got his feet back under
him just in time for Raditz to grab him by the collar and throw him
against a tree.  “Listen,” he hissed, gripping Goku’s shirt again and
holding him against the half-dead plant.  “You will show the proper
respect to Prince Vegeta, understand?”
Goku eyed Vegeta and his bald companion over Raditz’s armored
shoulder.  “You really are afraid of him, aren’t you?”
When Raditz spoke next, his voice was low, almost inaudible but
for its urgency.  “The Prince and his man-at-arms Nappa are stronger
than me.  They’re stronger than almost anyone you’ll ever meet.  And
if
I don’t dare challenge them - “ Raditz’s voice took on a quality of
fierceness - “you wouldn’t stand a chance.  Do you understand me,
Kakarrot?”
Goku met his brother’s eyes, held them.  “Perfectly, Raditz. 
And my name is Goku.”
For a moment Raditz’s expression softened.  “War gods,
Kakarrot.  How can you be so much like our father?”  Then he socked
Goku across the face.
As Goku slumped to the ground, stunned, Raditz turned back to
Vegeta.  “My prince…” he began, a little beseechingly.
Vegeta held up a hand.  “You don’t have to say it.  You’re
hungry.  So are we.”  He turned.  “Come - let’s see what this rock
has
to offer us today.”
As he walked away and Nappa followed, Raditz seemed to deflate.
Then he shook himself and turned back to Goku. “Come on, brother.
Get
up and walk.”
Goku stared up at him, unsure.
“Follow me if you want food, Kakarrot,” Raditz said
impatiently, then turned to follow Vegeta and Nappa.  Goku hesitated
only a few more heartbeats before following.  He’d need to eat to
keep
up his strength - and besides, food was food.

Next chapter...
Goku makes his first contact with aliens on their own turf, just as
his
son begins his own journey.