The Trepidation of the Spheres
A Dragonball Z fanfic by Stella Quetzacotl
First created: Jun 24, 2002
Last modified: Jun 24, 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 3: Embark

	Shen Long, Eternal Dragon of the planet Earth, disliked waking 
up.
	He loved Arising - the dramatic lighting, the darkening of the 
sky, surging up out of the Dragonballs with a heaven-shaking roar.  
More precisely, he loved the way mortals reacted when he put on his 
display of power.  Shen Long didn't *have* to darken the sky and 
engender lightning storms when he Arose.  He just liked to.
	But he disliked waking up.  But someone was calling him, which 
meant someone wanted a wish.  And if someone wanted a wish, it was his 
duty to fulfill that wish.  So, Shen Long mentally splashed his face 
with cold water and got up.
	Then he Arose.
	"Whooaaahh..." Gohan's first encounter with the Eternal Dragon 
could not have been more memorable - with his mother, his friend and 
training partner, and his teacher all with him, it was like watching 
fireworks.  Caught up in the moment, Gohan barely heard as the Dragon 
spoke.  "REFLECT ON YOUR DESIRES, MORTALS," it rumbled, in a voice so 
like thunder it was difficult to understand his words.  "FOR I SHALL 
GRANT ANY WISH WITHIN MY POWER - BUT ONLY ONE."
	"Shen Long!" Kami-sama shouted, his voice at the top of his 
lungs not even coming close to competition with Shen Long's six-inch 
roar.  "Grant Bulma, Chichi, Gohan, Piccolo, Yamcha, and Krillin safe 
passage to Son Goku!"

	Shen Long blinked slowly, then his eyes flashed red.  "YOUR 
WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED."
	Bulma looked around, confused.  "Wait a minute - "
	"FARE THEE WELL."  Yellow light engulfed the Dragon, and the 
spectators covered their eyes - when they could look again without 
risking retinal damage, Shen Long was gone.
	And they still were standing on Kami-sama's lookout.  "What 
kind of - " Bulma began disgustedly.
	Then a circle of lavender light rose into being where the 
Dragonballs had been, picked itself up and rose like an elevator, and 
underneath it a young alien woman appeared.
	It was utterly obvious she was an alien.  Her body was too long
and lean, for one thing, her limbs like willow branches under her 
purple cloak and blue gi-style pants.  Her face was polygonal, *too* 
perfect to human eyes, like a computer simulation.  Her violet eyes 
were gigantic compared to her doll-like nose and mouth.  A curtain of 
yellow hair, like captured sunshine, pulled up in a high ponytail 
through a purple clasp before spilling to her ankles.
	"Hi there," the girl said, "I'm Stella Quetzacotl, captain of 
the GSS SpaceCadet.  Are you the ones scheduled for pickup?"
	"What?" Yamcha demanded, staring.  Nobody else spoke.
	"Wait, wait, let me check my data."  Stella pulled a small 
PDA-like device from her sleeve.  "Here we are.  Transportation to the 
Saiyan colony orbiting Umaa from Kami-sama's Lookout on Earth, for six 
beings, all fees paid by a Mister S. Long."  She nodded and put it 
away.  "Yep, I'm in the right place.  Who's ready to go?"
	Bulma and Chichi looked at each other and sighed.  "Well, guess
this is our ride," Bulma said, and hefted her suitcases.
	"Goku, here we come," Chichi added, handing her own luggage to 
Yamcha.
	"All right."  Stella clapped her hands sharply, grinning.  
"Everyone come stand around me."
	They obeyed, reluctantly.  Except for Gohan, no one wanted to
get closer to Piccolo than they could help, and the feeling was quite
mutual.
	Stella pulled a small comlink from her high collar.  "Gav, 
seven for pickup.  Same coordinates."
	"Understood," said a voice from the comm, faintly.  The same 
lavender circle appeared and rose again, only this time, when it 
disappeared, it took all seven of them with it.
	Mr. Popo watched the place where they'd been.  "Will they be 
all right, Kami-sama?"
	Kami-sama was long in answering.  "I sincerely hope so."

	Goku's right side was hot.  His left side was very, very cold.
	He opened his eyes.  His right eye was blinded by orange light;
his left eye was steeped in darkness.  Then his brain remembered that 
he was a predator, and as such his eyes were set at the front of his 
head so that he could judge distances.  Goku's eyes snapped into focus,
and with that minor adjustment he found that he was lying on his back, 
staring up at a clear star-studded sky with a campfire on his right.
	[It was a dream,] he thought.  Then, [No.  My ribs still hurt. 
It was real.]
	He sat up, ignoring the whining protestations of his injuries. 
Strangely, they didn't seem to be as loud as they should have been.  
His face didn't even hurt from Raditz's ki blast, not much anyway.  
Slowly, testingly, he rolled his head to one side, then the other.
	As his head came around to the right, Goku's vision filled with
a humanoid shape, one with long hair and a tail.  He stiffened.
	"So you're awake."  After a moment's confusion - the voice was 
young and quite obviously feminine - Goku relaxed, rubbed his eyes, and
looked up again.  The long-haired shape had resolved itself into what 
looked like a early-teenage Saiyan, dressed in armor similar in design 
to Raditz's but lacking shoulder guards.  The girl turned and walked 
back toward the fire, giving Goku a  good view of her simian tail - and
pointing out the presence of two other Saiyan-like beings.  One, 
clearly male, had a hairstyle a bit like Vegeta's and armor devoid of 
either shoulder or hip guards; the other, probably female, had shoulder
guards but no hip guards and wore her hair in a messy crop around her 
ears.
	"Where am I?" Goku asked at last.
	"On the southern half of a decimated planet," the short-haired 
girl spoke up.  "We found you in the wake of the Saiyans' attack."  She
pointedly said the word 'Saiyans' in a contemptuous tone, to exclude 
herself and her companions.
	[So aren't they Saiyans?] Goku asked himself.  Then for the 
first time he realized that his chest was wrapped in white bandages, as
were his arms and head.  [They bound my wounds...] "Thanks," he said, 
plucking at the wrappings.
	"Don't mention it," the long-haired girl shrugged.
	All three were staring at him now - it made Goku nervous.  "So 
where are the Saiyans now?" he tried.
	"Thirsting for revenge, are you?" Long-Hair smirked.  "Don't 
bother.  Killing Vegeta and his cronies won't bring your planet back, 
and you're no match for them anyway."
	"Oh - I'm not from this planet," Goku clarified.
	"Good.  We don't have to pity you as much."  Long-Hair nodded, 
a real smile beginning to show on her lips.
	A new voice broke in from behind Goku.  "We'll want to know 
where you do come from, eventually," it said, as Goku turned stiffly to
catch sight of its owner, "but there's no time for that now."  A new 
Saiyanlike being was approaching, this one smaller and more delicate-
boned than the other three, with floppy charcoal-gray hair and pointed 
ears somewhat like Piccolo's.  His tail swished, and Goku could see 
that the fur was surprisingly long - more like a dog tail than a monkey
tail but for its flexibility.  He wore the same type of armor as the 
other boy but added to it a hip-length white cape clasped at his 
throat.
	"Back so soon, Zakuro?  And empty-handed?" said the short-
haired girl, a trace of amusement in her voice.
	"Alas, yes," the newcomer admitted as he approached Goku.  
"Listen.  I encountered Vegeta and the others nearby - I don't think 
they saw me, or sensed me, but you know how they are about playing with
their prey.  They said something about searching for someone - 
Kakarrot, I think they called him."
	Goku flinched at the name - the other boy noticed.  "Is that 
you?" he demanded.
	"Not anymore," Goku asserted after a slight pause.  "My name's 
Son Goku now."
	The one called Zakuro eyed him professionally, and a little 
cautiously.  "Kakarrot's a Saiyan name, I think.  What do they want 
with you, Son Goku?  Are you a Saiyan?"
	"So they tell me," Goku sighed.  "See, a year ago - "
	"Save your life story for later," the taller boy interrupted.  "If Vegeta's here, then we need to get back to the colony - and unless I miss my guess," he added, eyeing Goku professionally, "you need medical treatment."
	The thought of hospitals made Goku shudder.  "I'm all right."
	"So all right that you can stand up to Vegeta?" the long-haired
girl demanded.
	"Well..."
	"Our ship isn't too far off," she continued.  "We'll get you to
Kudamono, put you in a regen chamber, have you fixed in half an hour."
	The short-haired girl stood up suddenly, face tight with 
concentration.  "They're coming," she announced.  "Vegeta and company. 
Medium-fast."
	"No time to be subtle," the long-haired girl said decisively.  
"We'll have to fly for it."
	"And hope they don't shoot us down," the tall boy added.
	Zakuro held an arm out to Goku.  "Can you fly?"  When the older
man hesitated, Zakuro shook his head.  "Never mind - I'll just carry 
you."  He wrapped an arm around Goku's waist, very securely for such a
bird-boned creature, and rose into the air.  The other three followed 
suit, and in a diamond formation they rocked off to the northwest.

	"A thousand curses on my little cousin," Vegeta spat into the 
wind as he flew.  "I should have thrashed him when I first sensed him."
	"Why didn't you?" Nappa asked.
	"Momentary lapse of judgment.  Besides, I was eating."
	Raditz would have laughed if he hadn't felt so agitated.  "That
idiot little brother of mine.  I'm going to break him open when I get 
him back."
	Vegeta snorted.  "You'll have to wait your turn.  I've got my 
own bone to pick with that weakling."
	"Not to mention the Kudamono halfling," Nappa rumbled.
	"Them as well.  War gods!  They stole Kakarrot right out from 
under our very noses.  If Frieza hadn't given us other duties..."
	"Colony Kudamono is unripe yet, Prince," Nappa said pointedly. 
"They'll all bow to your will when the time comes."
	Vegeta favored his man-at-arms with a small smirk.  "Of course.
Starting with my half-breed cousin and his dirt-hugging alien mother."  He spat for real this time, narrowly missing Raditz.
	"What would they want with Kakarrot anyway?" Raditz wondered 
out loud, sulkily.
	"Mmn," Nappa agreed, "he's of no worth to anyone but you."
	Raditz glowered and Vegeta laughed.  "It's the alien influence.
They seem obsessed with taking on charity cases.  They'll probably tend
to his injuries and give him a space pod, and point him back toward his
little mudball."
	As if in punctuation - or defiance - of Vegeta's words, a small
dark smudge rose from the forest ahead and rocketed upwards, quickly 
becoming a shooting star that had decided for some reason to shoot *up*
for a change.  The Saiyans' sharp eyes picked out its dark-green-and-
burgundy coloring and the odd teardrop shape as it accelerated, that 
marked it as a Kudamono planet-hopper craft.
	Their senses also detected a flickering life aboard that craft,
its light dim next to the shine of four other energies.  "They *do* 
have my brother!" Raditz snarled, coming to an abrupt stop.  "Those -" 
He let loose with a particularly foul string of curses in Tiempan, 
Frieza's native language, before Vegeta knocked him upside the head.
	"Use the Saiyan tongue if you have something to say," the 
Prince admonished, then turned to follow the ship's long-faded path 
with his eyes.  "Anyway, you needn't worry.  No doubt Kakarrot will 
emerge from the colony soon, with his wounds healed and some basic 
training under his tail.  And when he does - " he turned to catch 
Raditz in a proud smirk - "*we'll* take over his education."
	Raditz smiled, harshly.

	The Colony Kudamono planet-hopper, Freedom by name, approached 
the system where its home port orbited like a tadpole swimming under a 
nice, safe rock.  Inside, Raima stood at the controls, trying to 
project an air of professionalism.
	"This *is* the Freedom," she insisted again, interrupting the 
space-traffic controller on the other end of the sub-ether link for the
fourth time.  "We're returning early because we ran into some 
complications. - Yes, we're carrying an extra person.  -  Yes, he's a 
Saiyan.  Listen, he's injured, so - "  The controller interrupted 
Raima, for the fifth time, and the long-haired Saiyan groaned.  
"Umaajian paranoia," she sniped over the chatty warble of the 
controller's voice.  "What a pain."
	"Let me try," Zakuro offered, uncurling on the gravity couch 
that held him in place.
	Raima moved aside and Zakuro took her place.  "This is Zakuro 
of Kudamono in the Freedom," he said, his voice booming with command.  
"We are approaching Dock Four."
	A pause, then a squabble of assent.  Zakuro flashed a grin at 
Raima before adding, "Please inform my mother that I and my companions 
have arrived.  And alert the infirmary that they have a patient 
incoming."
	Another squabble, then a click as the link was terminated.  
"Show-off," Raima complained.
	"Indulge me.  I get so little chance to one-up you people."  
Zakuro floated back to his couch and settled himself in.  "Take us in, 
Captain Raima."
	Raima shook her head.  "As ordered."  She retook the controls, 
unable to keep a rueful grin from her face.
	Cereza stretched languidly on her own couch, situated behind 
Zakuro's.  "Are we there yet?" she slurred, rubbing at her chrome-black
eyes.
	"Almost," Zakuro answered.  "How's our patient doing?"
	"He's asleep," Suboten offered from the back of the bridge, the
only part with constant gravity.  It had two sets of bunk beds on 
either side of the door leading to the rest of the ship.  Goku lay on 
the bottom left bunk, snoring softly, and Suboten stood at his side.  
"He'll need maybe an hour, hour and a half in the regen tank before 
he's fit to fight.  And I'd recommend letting him get a good, solid six
hours' sleep before we start questioning him."
	"Vegeta must've really roughed him up," Cereza commented.
	"I don't think it was Vegeta.  He'd have a lot more broken 
bones."  Suboten glanced down at Goku.  "My best guess is Raditz.  It 
looks like his kind of slow pounding."
	"Quantity of damage, rather than quality," Zakuro nodded.  
"Not a bad tactic if you have the time for it.  And a high evasion 
rate, too," he added as an afterthought.
	"Zakuro," Cereza said suddenly, "when you saw Raditz - did he 
seem injured to you?"
	The pointy-eared youth frowned in thought, then shook his head.
"Not particularly.  There was a break in his armor - but nothing on the
scale of what Son Goku experienced."
	"Strange.  You'd think Son Goku would have scored *some* hits. 
Do you think he was ambushed, knocked out early with a lucky neck shot 
and then just pounded for fun?"
	"Sounds like Raditz's style to me," Raima pointed out.
	"Possible, but I doubt it."  Suboten prodded the flesh of 
Goku's shoulder experimentally.  "This man seems weak, even for an 
offworlder.  He may have been sick, bedridden, and his muscles 
atrophied as a result.  I'm not sure.  No, it was a fair fight, I 
think.  He was just outmatched."
	"We can ask him ourselves, once he's recovered," Raima 
interrupted.  "We've reached port.  Docking now..."

	Goku lay on his back on the little cot that, besides a sink and
an overhead lamp, was the only furnishing in the room he'd been given 
for the night, and tried to sort things out in his head.
	His head, of course, was resisting efforts to become sorted.  
Upon arrival in this orbital space station - Colony Kudamono, he was 
told - he'd been dunked in a bubble full of a thick blue-green liquid 
and told to stay put for an hour.  He'd obeyed, not in the mood to 
argue even if he had been capable of putting up a fuss at the time.  
When he'd emerged, the white-coated, pearly-skinned alien (not a 
Saiyan, he'd noted) had seemed pleased and pronounced him all healed, 
then had escorted him to this room with admonitions to get some rest. 
Goku had gladly complied.
	His internal clock told him that he'd slept about ten hours or 
so.  He would have gladly slept three more, but the things that needed 
to be sorted out in his head didn't afford him the luxury.
	Goku groaned and sat up, letting his head drop almost to his 
knees.  The impression he'd gotten from Raditz was that all Saiyans 
were bloodthirsty, heartless monsters, and that Goku was heir to that 
tradition.  [But I'm not like that.  Am I?]  He loved fighting, there 
was no denying that.  And he loved winning.  Was winning the same as 
conquering?  Those flashes of intense pride and joy, the things he felt
when he was fighting and winning, were they only masks for another, 
darker set of emotions?
	Goku wasn't sure.  Heck, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. 
Hadn't he believed, not so long ago, that he was human?
	Then there was the matter of the four Saiyan youths that had 
come to his aid.  If Saiyans were nothing but heartless monsters, what 
of them and their actions?  They'd bound his wounds, taken him here to 
presumed safety - what, if anything, did they expect in return?  And 
how did they know Raditz and Vegeta?
	[Scratch that last,] Goku told himself.  [Vegeta's got too much
of a presence for these guys *not* to have heard of him.]  Still... 
what if they were allied with him?  But if so, why spirit him off that 
twisted-tree world?  Was it all an elaborate charade?  Goku gripped his
head, as if he could hold his slipping sense of reality in place.  What
was really going on?
	A knock at the door startled Goku out of his reverie.  
"Y-yeah?"
	"Are you decent?"  
	The voice was male, young... it was the voice of the smaller 
male Saiyan, Zakuro.  Goku glanced down, then around.  "Ahh... no."
	Silence.  "There should be some clothes in the cabinet under 
the sink."
	Goku searched the indicated cabinet and indeed found clothes - 
Saiyan clothes, a black spandex body stocking and white-and-yellow 
armor.  Goku shunned the armor, but pulled the body stocking on.  It 
fit, snugly but well.  "O-okay."
	The door opened and Zakuro slipped in, followed by the other 
three Saiyans in his retinue.  Goku stiffened, then forced himself to 
relax.  Obviously they weren't here to attack.  Yet.
	"We weren't properly introduced, last night," Zakuro said, a 
little shyly.  "I'm Zakuro, heir apparent to the throne of Kudamono.  
These are my people.  Cereza - " the short-haired girl nodded 
politely - "Raima - " the long-haired girl waved a hand - "and 
Suboten."  The taller boy dipped his head with a smile.  "You said your
name was... Son Goku?"
	"That's right."  Goku wanted to move to the left.  His back was
against the wall.  "You're the first Saiyans I met that didn't insist 
on using my old *Saiyan* name."
	Zakuro smiled.  "Ah, but how many Saiyans have you met besides 
us?"
	"Well... three.  Raditz and the others."
	"Statistically insignificant.  But unfortunately, the former 
Prince and his men are a good sampling of the vast majority of the late
Saiyan Empire."  Zakuro's voice went from cheerful to bitter in a 
breath.  
	Goku wasn't sure how to respond to that.  He settled for a 
noncommittal "Um..."
	Zakuro shook himself and brightened again.  "Listen, Son Goku, 
why don't we trade favors?  Tell us your story - how you came to be in 
this sector of the galaxy - and we'll tell you all you want to know 
about ourselves."
	"And more, no doubt," Raima added cheerfully.
	[Couldn't hurt,] Goku thought.  "All right.  Well, most of this
Raditz told me as he was beating me into the ground, so I'm not sure 
how much of it's true.  But I was sent to Earth as a baby..."

Next chapter...
Goku acquaints himself with Colony Kudamono, and begins his training as
a Saiyan.  Meanwhile, Gohan and the others start their journey, unaware
of the hidden enemy on board the SpaceCadet...