The Trepidation of the Spheres
A Dragonball Z fanfic by Stella Quetzacotl
First created: Jan 8, 2002
Last modified: May 5, 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 ten 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.