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Lost Child	By : Tyrana Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3022 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Shocking News
- 2-First Encounter
- 1
- 2
Disclaimer: I do not own dragonball and I do not intend to do money with
this. The intellectual owner and creator of these characters is Akira
Toriyama
WARNINGS: None for this chapter, except Bulma portrayed as a ruthless
villain, so fans of Bulma out there, don't read if you cannot handle that.

I was going to add a prologue, relating how Bulma became the villain,
but it was ridiculously long, and since the main focus of the story will be the pairing VegetaxKakarot(Goku) I just decided to explain it in alittle introductory note; please read, it's needed to understand some things.

INTRODUCTION:

This story occurs in an alternate reality or in a different timeline
than the canon series. Frieza has not met Saiyans yet, and so the
planet continued its course, with Bejiita as his king, and our Vegeta,
his son, as his heir. Vegeta is about twenty-six or twenty-seven years
old. Kakarot (not Goku here since he did not arrived on Earth) is ten
years younger that the prince.

On planet Earth, since Goku was not there, old Gohan lived enough to meet
Bulma when she was searching the dragon balls. When the old but lively
man, who knew the power held by the balls, refused to lend her the
dragon ball, Bulma killed him.

After tasting her first blood and the exhilarating power of being able
to decide the destiny of another human being, Bulma kept on his search
of the balls, dispatching all those who dared to interfere in her path.
She met Yamcha, who fell under the spellbound of the blue-haired
bombshell and became her lover, accomplice and minion.

With the power of the balls, the fortune and influence of her family,
her scientific abilities and her sudden lust for power, soon she became
the ruler of the planet, one of the worst tyrants in the history of
Earth. But that was not enough to satiate her avarice and soon she
decided to extend her dominion out of planet.

With the dragon balls she attained technology that otherwise would have
taken decades, even centuries to get; like spaceships to travel through
the universe and an invisible barrier around the earth to be
invulnerable to any attack from alien forces. She also wished that the
strength of the inhabitants of planet Earth would be increased. The balls
did not granted her though the wish to acquire more advanced weapons.
But even though her powers were limited, she soon started the conquest
of nearby planets.

Once the Earthlings occupied one of the worlds property of the Saiyans,
one of the most powerful races in the universe, which possessed a vast
empire, the confront was inevitable. But little did the powerful Saiyans
expect that all their attacks to Earth would be repelled. They had to
admit defeat and came back home to lick their wounds.

And that is the point where this story begins.

(I used the name Bejiita for the father and Vegeta(our grumpy prince )
for the son, because it could be confusing using the same name, and
sorry but Vegeta junior sounds absolutely awful. This first chapter is
just to introduce the characters,
set the scenario and give a glimpse of what will happen. I decided to do
it via a conversation between King Bejiita and his counselor, Bardock, I
thought that way it was way far more interesting than in the form of a plain
narration.)

LOST CHILD

By Tyrana

CHAPTER ONE: SHOCKING NEWS

The birthday of Bejiita, crowned king of Planet Vegeta, was approaching and the royal palace was a hive of rushed activity; each and every one of its dwellers, from the lowest of the servants to the highest noblemen, including the king himself, bustled about with ambitious, splendid preparations and arrangements to guarantee the success of the celebrations.

Everything had to be flawlessly planned, with utmost efficiency; every little detail taken care, any obstacle surmounted, any possible contingency prevented, all expectations fulfilled. In sum, it had to be perfect.

The event held great significance, mostly because of the repercussions that would possibly ensue: The palace soon would be brimming with multitude of diplomatic delegations, emissaries and representatives from all the worlds under the sphere of influence of the Saiyan empire and it was imperative that each and all of them, no matter their status (subjugated planets, allies, associates, friends�) witnessed the splendor and glory, the superiority of the Saiyan race.

It was a perfectly calculated method of propaganda, a subtle way to consolidate the power and influence of the conqueror over the subordinates and, even, to abort possible insurrections.

Furthermore, it was an excellent occasion to gestate important agreements, to forge new alliances, to strengthen old ties, to smooth out differences and slight conflicts�But it was also an opportunity for the king to give free rein to his vanity.

For it was a very well stated fact that Bejiita fancied to receive compliments and admiration over his outward appearance, style, sophistication and prosperity. It was not such an outlandish trait; as a matter of fact, it was perfectly understandable given the innate exhibitionism and boastfulness of the Saiyan race. The only difference with the rest of his compatriots was the choice of channel to vent it; in lieu of spitting his bravado at the face of his enemies in the battlefield; the king had found his own, personal way to show off himself.

And so the king had taken upon himself, like it was habitual, the task to design most of the garments he would be wearing during the receptions, banquets and the rest of the celebrations. And, overcome by puerile excitation, when he finished his part he went to and fro, for interminable days, giving instructions and supervising the work of tailors, seamstress�, and the rest of the servants, causing them to be at the edge of a breakdown and making their lives a complete hell with all his demands, nudging, rude criticisms, bickering and whatnot. But finally the work had been successfully done, and the brand new wardrobe was ready to be tried on.

*****************

General Bardock, royal counselor and closest friend of the king of all saiyans, awaited patiently amidst the sumptuousness of the Blue Chamber; standing erect almost like a statue, in the typical posture and demeanor of a well-trained soldier awaiting his orders, (despite his privileged position and although his days as a commoner in the army were far off; but old acquired, deeply ingrained habits were hard to eradicate).

Not even a single muscle or fiber of his body rippled, shook or trembled in the slightest; even his attractive and well-defined features, -powerful, authoritative, denoting his strength of character, earnest and steadfast resolve- were perfectly restrained in a neutral expression.

The man was the epitome of self-discipline, imperturbability and perfect composure, except for the occasional, inevitable blinking of sharp, charcoal eyes, and the sporadic raising of an eyebrow at the bizarre scene performed before him: The protagonist not other than Bejiita, almighty king of the saiyan empire, was posing in front of a colossal mirror, admiring his tall, impressive and flawlessly chiseled figure, magnificently framed and enhanced by a lavish and elegant suit of rich burgundy velvet. Meanwhile a servant, (an alien, like most of the employees occupied in �low and degrading� -according to the criteria of the proud saiyans- jobs), with sallow complexion and unattractive features, glowing-red mane and petite, fragile body, trotted nervously behind the monarch; one moment to set properly the pleats of the jacket; the next to brush off compulsively random spots on the arms and the back; the whole time twitching and letting escape, every now and then, from thin blue lips comments like �Excellent!� - �Perfect!�, and other compliments of a similar fashion.

The monarch, far from being irritated or annoyed, gave the impression to be rather pleased with the singular creature�s demeanor; and Bardock, not daring to break his reverent silence until being granted permission to speak, pondered over, in renewed amazement, as many other times before, how regardless of their different personalities, Bejiita and he shared similar ideals and views.

He was basically a simple soldier, an ordinary man of sober tastes and austere habits; his disposition reserved, taciturn, almost unsociable; his character determined but rarely stubborn; his manners as restrained as his countenance, hardly ever giving free expression to his emotions; but sincere and honest when he spoke his thoughts or in the rare occasions in which he demonstrated his feelings, neither fond of subterfuges nor nasty tricks.

Bejiita, on the contrary, had been gifted with an exuberant, overwhelming personality and a more open and expressive character. But he was more devious and sibylline in his intentions and in his treatment of others. He also possessed an arrogance occasionally bordering narcissism, but that had become the trademark of the royal family. Though, surprisingly, he was rather indulgent with other people�s flaws. The man was a hedonist; a sybaritic, with exquisite and refined manners, who delighted and indulged in decadent luxury and opulence. It sufficed to take a look around to have proof of it:

The whole chamber hung with tapestries of rich velvety cloth and draperies of fine silk in an ample array of different shades of blue. The sunlight, which streamed through a large window, transformed the sepulchral pallor of the smooth marbled floor into resplendent warmth. A few, selected, dainty ornamental objects perfectly harmonized with the exquisite furniture of simple lines made with noble woods, embellishing and enhancing the elegance of the ambience. And, as an ultimate touch of voluptuous refinement, a subtle herbal fragrance filled the room.

Such were the musings drifting fluently through Bardock�s mind while the king continued immersed in the appreciative contemplation of his royal person on the mirror; every now and then whirling slowly, looking over his shoulder in an attempt to get, as well, a glimpse of his back view.

Suddenly, Bejiita, stroking his tidy goatee, stopped all his movements and evolutions; the pensive and serious gaze under slightly knitted eyebrows gave him the aspect of a man who seemed to be debating with himself a crucial issue. After brief instants, he nodded his head with a satisfied expression settled upon his aristocratic countenance.

�I think I will be wearing the dark-blue suit for the banquet,� the monarch casually observed, casting a brief glance over the emaciated servant, who bowed his head in humble deference; but his eyes immediately flickered back to his reflection, as he added: �This one definitively is the most appropriate for the official reception, it emphasizes my regal bearing, do you not think so, Bardock?�

Had not been the phlegmatic type, the laconic general would have flinched and gaped at him in utter stupefaction. The query had caught him absolutely off guard; it was not an usual occurrence that the king asked for his opinion about such trivialities; in fact, Bejiita had every so often reprimanded him, always humorously however, for his deficient �sense of fashion�.

Bardock merely blinked intermittently during a couple of seconds before widening his fiery eyes, seeming to be the only part of his anatomy with some capacity to respond to external stimuli.

Being well acquainted with each and one of the gestures of his rather expressionless counselor. Such imperceptible reaction was enough evidence for Bejiita to realize, amused, that he had put the man into a tight corner; the massive, roaring laughter which ensued, echoed across the room for at least full five minutes.

�Do take a seat, my old friend and serve yourself some wine,� offered the monarch, still in good humor, once his outburst subsided. Then, without averting his satisfied gaze from the mirror, Bejiita, snapping his fingers twice, exclaimed curtly to the nervous valet: �The purple cape, quickly!� Once he was handed over the requested item of clothing, the king, waving languidly his hand in a dismissing gesture, ordered him to leave the room.

The small alien inclined his head before proceeding to pick up all the garments scattered over a splendid divan and clumsily made a profound obeisance of submission and respect to the king, mumbling an almost unintelligible �Your highness.� After that, spinning in Bardock�s direction, he repeated the same servile gesture in recognition of the high rank of the general, before swiftly retreating by a side door.

Once they were left alone, without any importuning presence, the king adjusted the purple cloak to his shoulders and admiring the effect on the mirror, proceeded to interrogate his counselor about more significant affairs.

�Now my dilected friend, I assume you are bearer of good news,� uttered Bejiita with inquiring notes while posing with stately air, still enthralled in his own pleasant scrutiny.

�Certainly. The majority of the invitees will be arriving within this week. The president of Dakkara will not be able to attend, but he showed great interest on our proposal to provide us with their superior technology and he will send his Prime Minister to discuss the terms of a possible agreement,� intoned Bardock in even accents.

�Excellent!� The king exclaimed with ostensible delight, then, smirking, continued, �We need to make a succulent offer, that old fox is a greedy bastard,� a short chuckle escaped his lips before adding, �but it will be a worthy investment, the efficiency of our battle forces will be considerably increased.�

Bejiita walked over, approaching to the table and grabbed some berries from a silver tray, savoring the bitter-sweet taste as Bardock continued the report.

�The king of Belaria and the archiduke of Talandur finally accepted our mediation in order to put an end to their conflict.�

Bejiita waved his hand with mild disinterest, �Those idiots and their petty territorial disputes. Spare me the details, I trust in your good judgment to resolve the issue satisfactorily,� he uttered disdainful, divesting himself from the fancy piece of cloth to toss it carefully over the divan before stepping over to ensconce himself on a lavish armchair opposite to Bardock.

�My main concern right now is that woman who rules the Earth. That�Bulma. Did she accept the invitation?� He questioned, voice slightly altered by atypical anxiety.

Bardock nodded his head in silent acquiescence, involuntarily clenching his hands into fists at the mention of that planet, (ironically the same his lost son, Kakarot, was assigned to purge when he was just a toddler; a destination he never reached though), suddenly assaulted by that familiar, deaf pain that dwelt in lethargic state within the deepest recesses of his heart, and that was awaken every time memories of his son plagued his mind. But, promptly collecting himself, he added, �She confirmed her attending in our last communication.�

�Good, good�did you find her predisposed to negotiate?� Bejiita asked, while pouring a generous amount of red wine into a silver goblet.

�More than that, eager; that was my impression. But�� Bardock paused and cast his gaze down, biting on his bottom lip in hesitation, absolutely conscious that he needed to choose carefully his next words if he did not want to incur the king�s anger. Bejiita was fairly reasonable, most of the times, and he held great estimation for Bardock�s judiciousness, acknowledging and rewarding with largesse his sage advice and the earnest and zest the counselor invested in the fulfillment of his duties and responsibilities. Yet, he did have little to none proclivity to tolerate antagonisms, neither unfavorable opinions of any kind when he was downright adamant about a particular matter.

Upon noticing Bardock�s reservation, an infrequent trait on the counselor�s side, Bejiita quirked an eyebrow. The sternness and suspicious, so manifestly written, all of a sudden, on the king�s face caused Bardock to fidget nervously on his seat.

�Well�spit it out, what is the problem?� Bejiita inquired, harshly.

There was a look of genuine preoccupation in Bardock�s eyes when he turned his gaze up toward the king, but he continued, nonetheless, with his characteristic confidence, �May I humbly suggest you to reconsider the whole issue?� He asked, with tact.

Bejiita�s factions immediately contorted into a sulky scowl, yet it did not deter his counselor from speaking his mind with frankness, �I have the presentiment that an association of any kind with that woman will entail more troubles than benefits.�

Upon noticing the strange look of intermingled annoyance, curiosity and surprise the king was darting at him, Bardock ceased in his utterance, awaiting in questioning silence for any reaction on his interlocutor�s side.

�Bardock, if you really want me to take you seriously you must provide valid and far more convincing arguments than mere, absurd presentiments.� Though the king�s words were emphasized by stern accents, Bardock felt certain relief at the fact that Bejiita was keeping at bay his irascible and choleric temper, (granted that though the king could become very violent, he also was endowed with a proverbial self-control and a great capacity to restrain himself) and appeared to be inclined to listen to the counselors reasoning.

�I don�t trust her. She is too ambitious and manipulative: since the very first moment we spoke, I got the impression that she�s one of those persons without scruples or ethics of any kind, who wouldn�t hesitate to commit the most despicable of the acts in order to achieve her purposes��

Amused and fascinated by his counselor�s capacity to utter an incensed invective with such quiet manners and neutral tone of voice, the king interrupted him with a wry chuckle, which apparently served to conjured up part of his tenseness for he spoke in a more distended way, �Bardock, I cannot quite understand your reticence and misgivings. That same description could apply to almost each and one of our allies.�

�I have not finished yet,� Bardock remarked, boldly, �she is different�her lust for power seems to be insatiable; a good sum of gold will not be sufficient to keep her satisfied. During our last conversation, before giving me a positive response to our proposal, she showed a great interest on learning about the functioning of the Royal House, the succession rights to the throne, the status of the king�s consort and a myriad of similar subjects. All with the excuse to know better and understand her possible associates..�

�You must admit she got a point there�, the monarch commented, bringing indolently the goblet to his lips to take a long sip. Bardock raised an skeptical eyebrow in disbelief at the king�s apparently impassiveness.

�Really? And what was the point of asking me if your only son remains single? And what about her sudden interest on knowing our position about inter-species marriages or if we have successfully attempted to breeding with alien races?

Of course, she mentioned it all very casually, seasoned with a mellifluous tone of voice and flirtatious manners, as if, that way, she could veil her true motivations.� The blazing flames of wrath in Bardock�s expressive pupils gradually derived into a glint of concern as he pronounced his next words of advice, �We must be cautious, Bejiita, she is desperate to sinking her fangs into the Saiyan empire��

�Greedy bitch�� Anger flashed for a fleeting instant in the depths of Bejiita�s eyes, but he instantly shrugged it off savoring another drink of the excellent liquor.

A tense quietness descended upon the room as the king became entranced by the flow of his grave reflections. Endless moments elapsed before he broke the silence, barely concealing his state of slight agitation under the authoritative tone of his voice.

�Damnit, Bardock, you seem obstinate in ignoring the importance of this whole affair. It is essential for us to know her damn secret.�, he exclaimed vehemently, pulling the upper half of his body slightly forward, knocking on the table with his balled fist with such vigor that the goblets and decanter began to tremble, some drops of wine bleeding over the fine piece of satin that covered the board.

Then, he drew a deep breath before voicing out loud his thoughts. �The ancient records describe Earth as a considerably vulnerable planet, equipped with archaic technology and inhabited by one of the weakest races of the universe. And suddenly, during the past year, alarming news began to come, reporting the conquest of some of our colonies in outer space by natives from this insignificant planet. And such meteoric ascending stunningly only took them a very short lapse of time,� the dark tinges of the king�s voice evidenced the somber mood in which he was immersed, �You cannot possibly have forgotten that you were as shocked as myself when our attempt to invade that little ball of mud failed; it was unheard in our whole history a defeat of such magnitude. And they did not even counterattack, they did not need the assistance of any weapon.�

Unable to remain on his seat for any longer, in a state of increasing anxiety, Bejiita, springing up from his armchair, began to stride back and forth in long treads across the room, his hands behind his back, cape billowing as he loudly observed, �I�m certain you remember the testimonies of the survivors, all of them declared that the accursed planet of hell appeared to be surrounded by an invisible barrier, a kind of shield capable of repelling all other attacks, causing any ship which tried to trespass the atmosphere to explode. How is that possible, Bardock? Where did they acquire such advanced technology?�

Halting his restless pace, Bejiita exhaled a faint sigh before spinning around to advance toward the spot were his counselor was seated, commenting, �And even more incredible were the declarations confirming that those earthlings suddenly seemed to be in the possession of a physical strength that almost rivals ours. It makes no sense; what kind of magic lays underneath this mystery?�

The piercing gaze Bejiita fixed on his counselor oozed as much bitterness as his reflections.

�There is more than our pride at risk here, Bardock, can�t you see that?� He asked, hitting the surface of the table with the flat palm of his hand.

�Believe me, Bejiita, I understand and share your preoccupation. But is it that worthy as to capitulate and yield a part of our heritage into vile hands�Do you reckon prudent to bring the enemy into our home and hand her over such amount of power? There must be another way to achieve our purposes, Bejiita; that alliance should be our last resort. I am just asking, begging, to wait; just give me a little more time to meditate and find a better solution.�

�Time is a luxury we cannot afford, Bardock. You witnessed how painful it was for me to order the retreat of our navy and to admit defeat. And how bold that woman has become since then, continuously defying our position and authority, provoking and taunting us by conquering a few more of our possessions in outer space. We must stop her before things start getting out of hand.�

The king tugged at his beard, pensive, before continuing. �Certainly, letting aside their astounding, apparent immunity, those terrestrials have not developed any extraordinary weapon and their capacity of attack is so limited that, until now, they have just occupied a small number of the weakest worlds. But, tell me Bardock, can you positively assure me that those earthlings have reached the pinnacle of their power? How much time will pass before they become stronger and more powerful than us? How long until we get enslaved or even obliterated by such an inferior race?�

Bardock did not seem able to believe such thing possible and he tilted his head up slightly to stare intently at the sovereign while his factions adopted an air of skepticism. But he stayed mute, nonetheless, not knowing what to reply to not further irritate the king.

�Your attitude amazes me, Bardock. I am resolved to accede to her demands. Yes, you have heard me, so do not give me that look of loathsomeness. If such is the price that must be paid to make us thoroughly unbeatable and to guarantee the survival and supremacy of the saiyan race, then so be it. I am more than willing to sleep with the devil if that enables us to become gods.� On which, Bejiita sat back down, scowling his defiance and steadfast determination.

�But it is your own son who will have to share bed with the devil, Bejiita, how can you do this to him, with such coldness�without remorse�? What if our fears turn out to be groundless and those creatures never get to be as strong as we are? All will be in vain��

�That is not relevant at all, Bardock. What really matters is to know the secret to reach that invulnerability. It could become crucial for our people.�

A frown of uneasiness overcame the king�s face as he verbalized his fears, however with his habitual tone of majestic authority. �You have knowledge of those reports sent from the last of our occupied worlds. Its inhabitants affirm to have heard rumors referred to beings with immense, almost infinite power who are spreading chaos and destruction across a sector of the universe still unexplored by us. Creatures capable to reduce entire worlds into ashes with a single blow; an entire race of ruthless, sanguinary tyrants who do not care about any other thing than satiating his supreme lust for power. Creatures so cold they could make your heart, your whole soul freeze with just a brief glance�� The last words came out hoarsely while the king curled tightly his fingers around the goblet; severe, abrasive eyes darkening regal factions despite being bathed in the golden light that flooded the room.

Bardock regarded him intently in a commiserative and understanding silence; he could not but feel sympathetic in relation to his monarch�s anxiety, yet it did not prevent him from straightforwardly manifesting his doubts.

�You cannot actually give credit to such fantasies, Bejiita. You are perfectly cognizant of the fame they have gained, far and wide, for being one of the most superstitious species of the universe. Moreover, the notion of a race born stronger than us, Saiyans, is ludicrous.� He snarled the last sentence with patent disdain.

The king, however, shook his head condescendingly, heaving a deep sigh.

�Bardock, Bardock, Bardock,� repeated Bejiita softly, but intentionally, with a slightly reproving tone which caused the general to clamp his teeth tightly and to tense his facial muscles into a slight frown. He nonetheless continued listening the monarch�s words with invariable deference and respect. �That is your sole and great defect, your exaggerated pride in our race. Certainly, it is an attribute inherent to each and one Saiyan. We are terrible chauvinists my friend, and though as a warrior I consider it to be one of our best virtues, as politicians we should let it aside for it is but a blindfold which clouds our intelligence.� He stated in an admonitory tone, placing the goblet he still was holding on the table and picking some grapes, while the counselor remained impassible, in the same posture he had adopted since the conversation began.

An awkward silence filled the room until the monarch, ending swallowing the delicious fruits, observed. �Bardock, you are well aware that my sense of honor and pride rivals that of any of our compatriots, but in my condition of sovereign I have the sacred duty to protect our people and defend their interests. And in order to accomplish that, sometimes it is needed to let aside affections, personal preferences and prejudices, and even to make the most humiliating concessions and the most painful sacrifices.�

Bejiita could attest, by the look on his counselor�s face, that he was maintaining an inner struggle, as if trying to conciliate his most visceral and passionate beliefs and inclinations with the clever reasoning the king had just rendered.

Undoubtedly, one of the factors, if not the main, which made Bardock the ideal person for his job was that both of them shared basically the same opinions and interests. And though the counselor was also able to provide different, refreshing views or to contemplate the same subject from a different angle, for their minds were not totally concurrent, it was vital for the good government of the empire that the king and the adviser to the crown could work together in harmony, without frictions or dissensions of any kind.

And more than ever in this particular case, it was necessary a total agreement from both parties. Bardock needed to understand what was at stake, so the king finally broke the silence to express more clearly his position and motives.

�Think, Bardock, the universe is infinite and we have only seen a minuscule part of it. What challenges, what threats and dangers await for us beyond the stars, my friend? We cannot allow ourselves to become blinded by our fatuous arrogance. It would be a fatal mistake, a folly, to deny the possible existence of beings with superior power and technology capable to destroy our world. We must contemplate that possibility and seek the means to be prepared for any kind of contingence.�

�But, Bejiita, what about our beliefs; the prophecy about the legendary warrior born from our people, the invincible supersaiyan who will prevail over all his enemies and whose power will remain unrivaled for all eternity? Do you believe it, Bejiita?�

�Of course I do. I have a blind faith that it will happen, but when Bardock? If our race perishes before he is given the chance to arise, what use will he be of? Look Bardock, we cannot stay passive, without doing anything but waiting to see if rumors, suspicions or legends become real or not, meanwhile letting escape all our chances to triumph. We have the opportunity to get a remedy and be prepared for possible eventualities before they get to occur. Ought we be as stupid as to let it pass, my friend? I do not mind the sacrifices, even though in our entire lifespan all our current fears are finally proved to be vain, we must think of the future, in the next generations. What kind of legacy are we willing to offer to our descendants? Think about it carefully, Bardock, and then tell me, if you can, that I am wrong.�

The king paused to savor a sip of the red liquor; a far away look in his eyes causing him to seem elder and tired; but at the same time, the fierce determination branded permanently on his visage attested his unyielding and resilient nature; like that of a powerful tree enduring imperviously the merciless, countless lashes from wild winds in the middle of the storm.

Bardock observed him through new eyes, with renewed and profound respect. It was evident that, lately, the king had been in earnest meditation regarding all these matters, moved by a genuine concern for his people. The damn woman seemed to have caused the effect of a catalyst, a sort of activator instigating a process which could be defined as a �mental rearrangement�, making the king to open his mind to new possibilities and reconsider his old and deepest convictions.

And Bardock pondered silently about it all; his analytical and methodic mind, nurtured with all the new arguments the king had posed, working at vertiginous speed, exhaustively, contemplating the subject from all the possible perspectives, weighing the pros and cons, until getting to the conclusion that Bejiita�s reasons were fairly consistent.

But there was still some qualms troubling him; and his doubts were so distinctly etched across his face, that the king, awakened from his own reflexive trance and casting inquisitive eyes upon Bardock, had the sudden impulse to ask him the motives.

�Your son, Bejiita. It is his happiness what you are jeopardizing.� Bardock replied in such a pleading tone that caused the king to roll his eyes.

�Now you are being overdramatic, Bardock. Arranged marriages had been a frequent ocurrence along the history of he royal family. I myself was obliged to marry someone chosen by my father. It is not a great deal. And my son is very conscious of the responsibilities the title entails.��

�Bejiita, you do not have to committ the same mistakes of your antecesors. I thought we agreed upon that question long ago.�

�Enough Bardock!� The king exclaimed warningly, with a furious tone of voice; a dangerous glint flashing in his scorching eyes, with such intense rage intended on his counselor that had he not been the seasoned warrior he actually was, but a more impressionable, thin-skinned target, Bardock would be shivering in dread.

�You�re bordering insolence. You may be my most trusted and closest friend but I will not tolerate you to trespass certain boundaries. Bear in mind that you are in the presence of your king and that my word is law. For your wise advice I am grateful, your allegiance is precious to me. But not even you will be consented to questioning my decisions. �

Bardock brusquely rose from his seat to stand upright on his feet and inclined his head, eyes cast down, clenched fists, muscles tensed, as he uttered: �Apologizes, your highness.� The contrite accents of his voice not entirely veiling the underlying overtones of resentment; after all, he was as proud as any other Saiyajin.

Meanwhile, Bejiita, shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position, relaxing the muscles of his body and recovering his regular rate of breathing; all the prior tension and agitation fading out along with his vexation, which was swiftly replaced by the amusement caused at Bardock�s antics: The king�s counselor was the only living creature capable to irradiate an air of conceited defy whereas performing such a subservient and servile gesture as a bow. It was evident that the man was fuming inwardly despite his arduous endeavors to maintain his fa�ade of imperturbability.

The king prolonged the diversion by averting completely his attention from the stiffle figure to replenish the content of his goblet, deliberately pretending downright indifference to Bardock.

He brought the recipient languidly toward his lips, shaking it slightly and inhaling the delicate aroma. Then he sipped slowly, savoring the fruity flavor, relishing for a long while on the strong and delicious sensation left on his taste buds, before setting the costly recipient on the table.

All so very leisurely, with the purpose to provoke, for once, a visceral reaction on his counselor�s side, out of the battlefield (the only situation on which Bardock allowed himself to unleash his primal, passionate -genuinely saiyan- nature) . But to no avail; when the king�s eyes fell upon Bardock, he had not even broken a sweat.

With a sigh of mild disappointment, Bejiita shrugged his shoulders off while softening his features into a sympathetic smile.

�Sit down and serve yourself some wine, my friend. It will aid to loosen you up; you seem to need it.� The king uttered, eyes shining with mirth, watching as the counselor raised his head to cast a brief glance over him before seating himself again.

�I bet you haven�t tried anything like this delicious nectar. Come on, let�s make a toast to the success of my birthday celebration.�

Bardock hastened to obey the king�s command, a little grunt erupting from his chest, which elicited a vigorous laughter from the monarch. Then, both men drank in companionable silence, that only lasted for a brief instant before Bejiita decided to break it.

�This conversation must remain confidential, Bardock. I unreservedly rely on your discretion. You know my son too well; he will likely raise a ruckus when he gets knowledge of the possible plans in store for him. And that would be very inopportune at the present, with all such dignitaries and ambassadors visiting. It is essential to cause them an excellent impression; we don�t need to give them any more motives to consider saiyans a simple race of brainless and overly-muscled barbarians��

A frown settled quarters on Bejiita�s brow all of a sudden and his visage glowed a deep scarlet during a fleeting instant for it was a delicate topic for him, but swiftly recomposing himself, he sighed before resuming his previous statement. �After all, we only count with mere conjectures and presumptions. I will solely talk to him when we get confirmation of the woman�s true intentions.�

Bardock nodded in mute assent, aware that Bejiita was attempting to postpone the inevitable dispute that would ensue and that would only serve to aggravate the ill relation between father and son, (relation that had been severely damaged since the very day the prince was, by Royal Decree, transferred to the diplomatic service and forbidden to participate in military actions.)

A barely audible sigh escaped from regal lips to fade into nothingness, as Bejiita decanted more of the red sweetness into his goblet, with a remarkable pensive expression on his august countenance, which evidenced the conflicting emotions his son provoked in him; that blend of pride and deception impossible to harmonize. Mesmerized, his eyes rested on the content of his chalice, as if seeking either responses or console, while thoughts of his son invaded his mind.

Vegeta, his only offspring and heir; an unique and impossible compendium of the best virtues and the most reprehensible flaws and vices.

The prince had the soul of an intrepid and fierce warrior; the mind of a cunning strategist; a colossal, unrivaled force; unshakeable determination and willpower; and a resilience and capacity to push himself to limits that others would consider impossible to attain. And such persistence had driven him to be one step ahead, surpassing each and any of his fellow Saiyans.

But Vegeta was also imbued of such excessive haughtiness, an exacerbated sense of self-importance, alongside with an insensitiveness, a detachment, an incapacity to connect and genuinely become concerned with people, even with his closest relatives. All of this occasioned a disquiet, a pessimistic foreboding in Bejiita, who feared for the fate of his kingdom.

Not that Vegeta was cruel nor malicious, but at his eyes, any kind of affection was synonym of weakness, a waste of time, a hindrance to achieve his highest ambition: To become the legendary supersaiyan. And though such purpose was per se very laudable; it had grown, through the years, into a compulsive obsession. And it so happened that the prince had become unsympathetic, uncaring and inconsiderate to the feelings and necessities of others. And, in Bejiita�s opinion, those were not precisely the attributes a commendable and prudent king ought to possess.

Bejiita heaved a deep sigh and looked steadfastly at Bardock and, suddenly feeling the urgent necessity to share his worries concerning his son with his loyal counselor, he finally broke the silence that had descended upon the room since the very moment he had become absorbed in his gloomy musings.

�Bardock, my son is so similar to his grandfather; so stubborn, so hot-blooded and impulsive that I am afraid he might become the same type of sanguinary, greedy tyrant my father was. My worst fear is that all my efforts to inculcate some wisdom in him go to waste and the old days of terror return�I do not know how to make him see that in order to be a good leader is imperative to control his passions and learn temperance and patience��

It was such an astounding rarity to hear that resigned tone from the ever overly confident monarch, that Bardock was rendered speechless for an instant. But once recovered from his surprise, the general replied:

�Bejiita, believe me, your son is not in the least the ruthless monster your father was. Bear in mind that despite his imperfections, Vegeta is a honorable man.� The king had never doubted that, but coming from an objective source, proclaimed with such conviction and firmness, was the kind of comfort he so much needed at that juncture. He leaned his body back on the armchair with a marked expression of relief on his face, as if he had been liberated of an unbearable burden, whilst Bardock continued:

�The prince is still too young and his blood boils with battle-lust. It is not strange in the least; we are, above all, warriors. Fight, challenge, violence, blood�Such are our aliments; what we strive for, what we live for, what we die for. He�s got a lot of time ahead to learn. And you are well aware that our race has not precisely been bestowed with the gift of�� A brief pause from the counselor to choose carefully the next word did not go unnoticed by the king, who merely elevated an eyebrow, curious, while Bardock ended the statement: ��patience.�

The king chuckled with mirth.

�Why did you censor yourself Bardock? You know very well that I have always valued highly your raw sincerity. Are you getting old? Lost your guts or got your balls removed? Say what you really meant: �Brains!�

�I would not quite say that, Bejiita. Your son does not lack intelligence. It is simply that he has not acquired yet that kind of wisdom that comes with maturity, from experience and thoughtful meditation. In fact I think that he is brilliant when it comes to verbal disputes�� Bardock trailed off, pausing as he noticed the king was shaking his head.

�I am afraid I am the only culprit of his attitude, my friend. With my insistence on instilling in him the pride of what it means to be truly saiyan, branding with fire within his very core a sense of superiority for being the destined ruler of the most glorious race of the universe. I should have taught him first, that becoming a good leader implies to serve and protect his people. And, in addition, I spoiled him rotten, indulging in each and every one of his whims. But I was too young and inexperienced then�� The king stated before exhaling a sigh of remorse.

�And so he is, Bejiita. He will learn�Hopefully, he will have someone at his side wise enough to guide him.�

�I cannot help but to have serious doubts, Bardock. Even if he is lucky enough to have such a loyal and proficient counselor like you have been to me; he is too independent and too swollen with pride to listen to anybody but himself��

�That is not what I meant, Bejiita. He needs to find the perfect companion, someone capable to get close enough; with the proper mate exerting the adequate influence, Vegeta would make an excellent king�� Bardock took care to accentuate each and one of his words purposefully, causing Bejiita to frown.

�Won�t you ever get tired of attempting to sabotage that possible marriage, Bardock?� The king folded his arms securely over his chest, his tone of voice as defensive as his pose, as he added, �Not that it will become a hindrance, in any case. You know that my son still will be able to keep his true mate by his side despite that union.�

�Something tells me that woman would not allow that.�

�What that woman might or not want is irrelevant at all. You know perfectly well that my son will not consent anybody to dictate what decisions to take nor to interfere in the governing of his people. She wants a taste of real power, fine; but she will have to learn what actually implies to become the queen of the saiyan empire; what duties and privileges such title entails. If she harbors the senseless and ludicrous fantasy that she will be able to have any saying on the affairs of the crown, she will get the deception of her life. And I am positively sure that my �gentle� son will be more than eager to put that bitch in her place.�

�I would like to have your same confidence, Bejiita�� Trailed off Bardock, with evident discontentment.

The frown of anger on the king�s face were dangerously deepening but the beeping sound coming from an inter-communicator prevented further disputes between the two men.

�Your highness, a courier beg permission to deliver an urgent message addressed to General Bardock,� came the raspy voice from one of the guards paying vigilance outside the chamber.

�Let him in,� was the king�s sole reply before shutting the communication. Immediately, the heavy mahogany door swished open and the messenger made his entrance, pausing once he crossed the threshold to bow respectfully before the two men.

�I beg your pardon for daring to interrupt, your majesty, but my orders were to deliver the missive without delay,� said he with hesitant tone, looking down at the floor, with his head still bent.

�Fine, proceed!� The king uttered, condescendingly, grabbing again his goblet, without offering a single glance to the soldier, who advanced toward the table to silently hand the message to the royal counselor. After that, he bowed again before retiring himself as quietly as he had entered.

The expression on Bardock�s face became somber as he fixed piercing, yet apprehensive, eyes on the missive. Bewildered, he felt a slight tremor running up his spine. Due to his occupation, he was used to receive hundreds of urgent notes daily; so this was not an exceptional occurrence, but still, he cannot avoid, nor quite understand why all of a sudden a sensation of impending doom had seized him in a tight grip, causing his stomach to lurch and his heart to skip some beats in uneasiness. He could even feel a few beads of cold sweat rolling down his forehead.

Unable to resist the curiosity, he glanced up at the king, pleadingly under knitted eyebrows, as a mute petition of permission. The king, unaware of the state of anguish of his counselor, nodded as his lips curved in a slight smirk.

�Read the damn thing, I need a change of clothes anyway. We don�t want this beauty to get ruined, do we?� Asked he, the smirk growing deeper as he stroked the velvety fabric on his left arm.

While the king walked over toward a small alcove situated in one of the corners of the room, Bardock read avidly the piece of paper; his heart pounding erratically and violently inside his aching chest as his mind processed the significance, either, the literal, more immediate, one; as well as the deepest one: The implications, the consequences that would ensue; just a few words, mere lines on a piece of paper, something so apparently insignificant could give an unexpected twist to his life.

�Kakarot�� Came out the brittle whisper from Bardock�s suddenly dry throat.

He felt his old scar stinging painfully, like every time he was deeply affected by an overwhelming emotion, and absently brought his hand to his face to scratch the old wound. Meanwhile his eyes ran over the lines once and again, until his vision became blurry and the words began to dance on the paper, fading out from his field of vision to get materialized into his mind, where the phrases got replayed incessantly, tauntingly haunting him, evoking old reminiscences from a past he had strived, so long ago, a whole life, to silence, to bury into oblivion.

Memories of that fateful day on which his son, Kakarot, was sent out of planet on his first purging mission emerged with such force from the deepest recesses of Bardock�s psyche, that he found himself reliving those old events as if they were taking place in that precise moment.

And so, right there amidst the warmth of the royal chambers, Bardock shivered, feeling all of a sudden the crisp air of that winter morning biting at the exposed expanses of his flesh.

��

*Flashback*

In those days, under the government of Vejita, one of the most despotic, sanguinary and megalomaniac sovereigns in all the history of the empire; newborns as well as the rest of the citizens, were considered property of the crown and very few Saiyans were bestowed the privilege to raise their offspring. Since the very moment of their birth, children were confined in nurseries for a short interval of time, until they were sent to purge the weakest planets.

It was a cold December day that Bardock had been a father, again. Just few hours after the birth of his youngest son, and by mediation of a comrade soldier, he had the unusual luck to access the nursery and say his goodbyes. And there he was, watching with curiosity, almost enraptured, his miniature replica, a wild spiky haired baby crying at the top of his lungs.

One of the caretakers had commented that the toddler had been wailing with incredible potency for endless hours and, in his opinion, such persistence was doubtless proof that the child would become an amazing warrior. Bardock merely raised an skeptical eyebrow, not sure if the man had been sincere or simply was pitying him, trying to candy-coat the supposedly deceptive fact that the power level of the kid was one of the lowest ever heard of. But Bardock had shrugged it off; experience had proved that some Saiyans were late bloomers.

After an undefined lapse, Bardock finally advanced to the tiny crib to take the noisy infant in his arms. Upon sensing such delightful warmth and the soothing, somehow familiar scent surrounding him, little Kakarot, feeling safe and content, ceased in his wail. And when teary eyes met the serious but pleasant visage of his father, a big smile lit up his chubby face and he gurgled and cooed merrily; his little, puffy tail curling compulsively around Bardock�s wrist, trying to coax him to prolong and tighten the embrace; as if somehow he felt he had been solely made with the purpose to be protected and comforted by strong, powerful arms.

Bardock, with his proverbial impassibility but overcome by sadness, looked intently at his clinging cub before pulling him against the crock of his neck to whisper: �Make me proud, my son.�

��..

Bardock, with the inconsolable crying of his son still ringing within his head, stood stiffen, fists tightly clenched, silently cursing, watching as the space-pod containing baby Kakarot took off into the sky; his pupils, stinging with unshed tears, frantically following the ship until it became an indistinct speck in the immensity of the firmament.

He had never been a sentimental man, but that innocent, affectionate look in his son�s eyes had remained deeply engraved within his soul and was doing strange things to him, shaking him in the inside and awakening alien emotions. He could not grasp the reason why, though. After all, he already had gone trough the same experience with his first son, Raditz, but he never had connected with him in that same, special and profound way.

An icy, starry night had extended its dark, dotted mantle all over the serene and oblivious land. Bardock�s gaze was still fixed on the same point of the horizon when someone had come to inform him that they had lost all signal of his son�s ship. Bardock had received stoically the news, expressionless, despite the oppressive pain tearing him apart.

Anxiety had filled the next days, awaiting for the restoration of the contact, trying to track the disappeared spacecraft. But forlorn hopes fled in the wings of time, leaving behind a heart consumed by desolation. All seemed to indicate that Kakarot had died in outer space.

After that, Bardock�s career had progressed meteorically. In his vain attempts to mitigate or at least forget his excruciating pain, Bardock always jumped into the battlefield as a desperate man with nothing to lose. Death would be a welcome console at that point of his life but there was no honor in suicide; therefore, he had resorted to volunteer himself for the most dangerous missions. But, surprisingly, all he got was a few scars and a justly gained reputation of intrepid, and soon his superiors took good notice of such unique, vicious and temerarious warrior who feared nothing.

Thus, he achieved what no other third class soldier ever did: to become an elite. Furthermore, personal guard of the heir of the throne, Bejiita, who surprisingly had happened to be totally opposed to his cruel father. The prince was more practical, and his soul was that of a diplomat, the tactician surpassing the warrior in him.

And when the hated king died from apoplexy, (though rumor had it that he had finally gotten poisoned with his own bile), the first decision Bejiita took as crowned king, was to abolish the law concerning the employ of babies in purging missions, as a deference to Bardock, the brand new counselor and general of all the armies.

Meanwhile, with the years Bardock�s anguish had receded in favor of a dull sorrow that had become an almost tolerable companion. But a simple piece of paper had sufficed to stir the old agony, emerging to the surface and gnawing at his heart with the same force it did in the past. But also the dead hopes were starting to come to life again and Bardock was not sure whether it was a good or a bad thing.

----------------------------------------

When the king came back from the alcove, now in his habitual clothes, and found Bardock immersed into a state of shock, at first he stood paralyzed in disbelief, the smirk on his face swiftly replaced by an expression of genuine concern. The sight of his counselor was certainly disturbing: Looking blankly ahead, the painful inner struggle Bardock was maintaining was clearly exposed by the agitated contractions of his facial muscles and the way in which one of his hands was tightly clutching the arm of the fauteuil on which he was seated, while the other was compulsively grabbing the now crumpled piece of paper. Bejiita never had seen his counselor so distraught in all his life, so he simply did not know what to do.

After a brief instant of hesitation, finally the king stepped forward, silently, inconspicuous to the man who was immersed in such an excruciating trance, and

gently lay a hand on his shoulder. The subtle touch seemed to be sufficient to draw Bardock�s attention, for his head suddenly jolted round and his eyes rested on said hand for a moment; the paper slipping from his now relaxed grip.

�Something wrong?� The king asked, gently.

Turning back to look ahead, with a strange glint in his eyes and an unreadable expression on his face, Bardock mumbled tremulously, �My son�� A startling punch on the table followed the unfinished statement.

Bejiita, not wanting to push him with more inquiries for the time being, simply moved to serve him more wine in the hopes that it would alleviate his distress.

�Take this, you seem to need a drink,� he uttered, trying to break the tension with a jovial tone.

Bringing avidly the recipient to quivering lips, Bardock swallowed the whole contents in one swift gulp. Only when Bardock�s breath became even and the muscles of his face less taut, evidence of a slight attenuation of his anxiety, the king ventured a question.

�May I ask what is that serious matter about?�

Bardock, unable to articulate a word due to the intensity of his emotions, exhaled a shallow sigh, handing the note to the monarch who started reading silently. But the shocking news made him involuntary voice out loud the last part of its content:

��received a signal from ship 1984, assigned to soldier Kakarot, son of Bardock. �Coordinates differing from the intended destination, pertaining to a small planet, class C. According old records, inhabited but with life-supporting conditions ��

Bejiita could not help the excitation of his voice as he read the rest of the message.

Then, unable to overcome his stupor he gawked, fixing incredulous eyes on the tense man in front of him. Bardock seemed to have regained part of his composure, but the continuous, though almost imperceptible, tremor of his bottom lip betrayed the deep emotion seizing him, and with a vibrant gleam in his eyes he locked gazes with the king while striving to express a petition.

�He�my son, might be�� Bardock stammered, trying to swallow the lump in his throat; but, suffocated by overwhelming feelings, he could not end the sentence.

He closed his eyes tightly, laboriously drawing a mouthful of air into his lungs. There was a very little chance for his son to be alive. But what if he let his hopes arise for nothing? Would he be able to endure once again the anxiety, the angst, the tense wait? Could he survive if his renewed confidence to find his son unharmed and alive crumbled once more? Would he be capable to go through the same hell again?

He was a brave, if not the bravest of the warriors; he could take any physical pain, any attack even the most brutal without even blinking. He did not fear death, but having to deal with so complex emotions was not his fort�. Why to open up the old wound again?

The response was evident for the distressed man: For Kakarot�s sake. Bardock owed him to reach the end of the path, even if that meant more misery. In that remote planet lied the ultimate response, the fate his son underwent, would finally be unveiled, and if he happened to be dead, at least he could bid him a proper farewell and bring back home what was left of him to rest in peace for all eternity.

Bardock�s eyes were two burning flames when, fixing them intently on the king�s countenance, asked:

�I beg your permission to go in the search of my son.�� His loud, firm and authoritative tone of voice were more demanding than pleading, and the king knew that it would be useless to oppose such fierce determination. However, true to his practical and reflexive nature, he tried to reason with the exalted general.

�Bardock, it�s been over sixteen years since your son disappeared. The probability to find him alive is so scarce, practically null�� The king bluntly trailed off.

�It is not a matter of probabilities, Bejiita, if there is a life implied what only matters is the possibility. We ignored the probabilities of his survival long ago, when we all assumed that his ship exploded or got vaporized in space. Not this time, Bejiita. He made it to that planet and the signal confirms the pod was not destroyed. Though meager, chances are that I can find my lost son.�

Bardock paused for split seconds distracted by the nervous tapping of Bejiita�s fingers over the table, seeming that the king did not share his optimism but he ignored it; he would get that permission no matter what, and so he continued, �You know how resilient those little pods are; they are made to resist the most tremendous of the impacts with scarce risks for the occupants. If the ship got to land on a planet with optimal conditions, then he is alive, he must��

By the firmness on Bardock�s voice and the fiery, blazing tenacity and resolve rolling off from his very soul in massive waves, it was plainly useless to try and persuade him otherwise. And Bejiita knew that Bardock would go ahead with or without his consent; so he had to conceded, notwithstanding, with a defeated but at the same time sympathetic look in his eyes, for he knew he would do the same in the hypothetic case to find himself in Bardock�s place.

�Fine�� He uttered, but at the sudden bow of gratitude from his counselor, Bejiita added, �But, I cannot allow you to go personally. Not at this precise moment with all the foreign delegations about to arrive. You are well aware that all hell will let loose over here without you to smooth things. You are the only one familiar with their petty rivalries and who has studied their customs, protocol and etiquette. I need you here, Bardock.�

When the disappointed counselor was about to reply the king cut him, adding with a mischievous smirk creeping across his lips:

�Don�t fear, for I will see to assign that mission to the only other person, besides you, that I trust with all my life. Contact my son to inform him of his new assignment. Make him clear that my strict orders are for he to go to the new coordinates right after completing his negotiations in Namek.�

When Bardock�s features began to contort into a grimace of intermingled upset and annoyance, the king rolled his eyes. It was not frequent to witness such expressivity from his counselor, which emphasized how deeply affected the man was.

�Oh come on Bardock, tell me in honesty if, in your opinion, there is a better candidate for that mission.� The king snickered when only a muffled huff came unceremoniously from his counselor�s lips. �Do not be so grouchy about it. Let him know that I have bestowed the boy the official status of �prot�g� of the crown�. You know the privileges such grade entails; as my representative, Vegeta will be obliged to protect him and get retribution from whoever attempt to inflict your son any harm. You know how tenacious and adamant he can become when it comes to accomplish his duties. He has the compulsive necessity to prove that he is the best at everything, even if he hates it with a passion.�

Bardock nodded in mute agreement as the king added, amused, �Now, what are you doing still here? Go and make that call!�

He did not need to be ordered twice to spring from out of his seat; the merry chuckle of the monarch accompanying his hurried tread as he headed outside the royal chambers.

TBC
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Lost Child