Writing In Your Footsteps: The Motherless Chronicles

[Celsi_Wish]

[SIZE=1]Author's Note: This is a DBZ fanfiction, and assumes that the Majin, Buu, and GT sagas did not occur. The final event in the DBZ timeline, according to this fanfic, was The Cell Games. :)[/SIZE]



[CENTER][U][B][SIZE=4]In Your Footsteps[/SIZE][/B][/U]
[COLOR=Indigo][B][SIZE=2]The Motherless Chronicles[/SIZE][/B][/COLOR]


[LEFT][CENTER]Today was the ten year anniversary of victory; Victory, and yet a great loss.
Today was the day that Cell was defeated.
Today was also the day Goku died.
[/CENTER]

None-the-less, today was a day of celebration, and thus all felt it appropriate to host a barbeque, all former patrons invited ? minus the obvious, of course. The Z squad was together once again, mostly new additions to meet and talk about.

A young Goten found his place in the sand of the Roshi Island beach, as the rest of the gang settled around the ocean, or the inside by television, watching in idle boredom the continuous memorial coverage.

Outside, Goten played with a bucket in one hand and a pale in the other, smiling gleefully ? yet alone.

Mirai Trunks and Gohan stepped through the doorway together, Gohan now a young man, no longer the boy Trunks remembered from the Cell Games. Everyone had seemed to grow.

?I can?t believe you have a little brother,? Trunks said, taking a sip from his whiskey glass.

?Tell me about it,? Gohan sighs, watching his brother play, ?I feel so old.?

Trunks eyed him.

?What??

He smiled simply and shook his head, ?Old. Pffft. Let me tell you how old you are. Right after I go tell your mother.?

Gohan laughed.

?Go tell me what?? Trunks and Gohan turned to see Chichi standing there, arms crossed, eyes stern, ?Tell me [I]what[/I]!?

They both grinned wide and innocently, chuckling through their teeth.

?Nothing, mother.?

In the kitchen, bouncing as she did, Bulma made her way about the countertop, a pair of statement-making sunglasses slung over her ears. She took a sip from a long straw, out of her self-proclaimed best long island iced tea on the planet, as she spun with benevolence over to the oven, opening it to a line of steaming skewers.

?Oh, yay!?

?Bulma!?

She looked up from the oven to see Yamcha standing in the entrance to the kitchen. From his comfortable seat on the couch, Vegeta looked over through the breakfast bar and grimaced, looking back to the television. They embraced one another with a long over-do hug.

?Yamcha! It?s been so long. How have you been??

?I?ve been alright. You know, just adjusting to civilian life over the last couple of years. Dealing with some stuff.?

?Oh? Like what??

?Well, like ??

?Hey, Dad?? A voice called from behind him.

The words stabbed Bulma like a needle through the neck, a twinge shuddering down her spine.

Yamcha suddenly turned as red as her oven mits, sidestepping to reveal a dark-headed girl, hair long and flowing, her skin seeming to glow under the thick of her bangs and intense pair of eyes.

?[I]Aimie![/I] Aimie, this is Bulma. [I]Bulma[/I], meet Aimie, my [I]daughter,[/I]? he finished, speaking through his smiling teeth at Bulma.

Bulma?s left eye twitched slightly, ?Daughter? Hi! Nice to meet you,? she held out a hand.

Aimie glared at her outstretched arm, ?I?m sure. Dad, where can I change??

Yamcha blinked at Aimie, before looking back to Bulma, who?s face was then frozen ? eye still twitching, along with her hand, ?Bulma??

She spoke through her clenched jaw, ?In? the bathroom. First right past the living room.?

Aimie?s stare spared breaking from her for a moment more, before she decided to walk away, around the corner and into the living room. As she entered, Vegeta glanced up at her, more or less disinterested, looking back to the television unphased.

Bulma and Yamcha watched from the kitchen as she exited the room, where upon Bulma whipped around to face him, voice a rasp whisper, ?Daughter?! You have a teenage [I]daughter[/I]!? And you?ve never told me this?!?

Vegeta looked up from his seat again, watching them speak.

Yamcha slid a hand down his face, ?I didn?t know! Otherwise I would have!?

?How could you not know you had a teenage daughter!?

?She?s not a teenager. She?s twenty-one.?

Her voice rose, ?TWENTY-ONE! YOU HAD ??

Yamcha threw a hand over her mouth. She ripped it away, her voice returning to a harsh whisper.

?You had a goddamn daughter for [I]twenty one years[/I] and you never told me? Or anyone here? And now you just randomly show up with some [I]girl [/I]like it?s no big deal! How do you not know you have a daughter for twenty years!?

?Twenty One.?

?[I]Yamcha[/I]!?

?I know, I know, I?m sorry, Bulma. But listen,? He whispered even more quietly, ?Twenty [I]two [/I]years ago, I had a girlfriend. You can imagine what happened. And I never even knew she had been pregnant. Well that old girlfriend decided to let me know I was a dad about three years ago. Ask me why she told me.?

Bulma rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, ?Why did she tell you? Oh, maybe because she should have anyway!?

?That is beside the point. She told me because she was sick. She was dying.?

Bulma slapped her forehead with her palm.

?I [I]know[/I], Bulma, trust me. I?d already had my say in the matter. But it was years ago, and I couldn?t exactly say no or be angry with a terminally ill woman.?

Bulma continued to slam her forehead against the wall, letting out a heavy breath.

?I [I]know [/I]what you?re thinking. Trust me, I went through the same thing. Now, before Aimie walks out and everyone thinks I?m some kind of cradle-robber, would you mind helping me out in explaining this situation to everyone??

Bulma shot him a menacing glare.

Yamcha leaned his head against the wall, tilting it while batting his eyes and pouting his lip at her.

?Please??

She rolled her eyes once more, ?Fine,? Bulma continued past him, turning to enter the living room. Vegeta?s eyes quickly diverted back to the television, and she grabbed his shoulder as she passed, ?I?m not sitting to explain to you, I [I]know[/I] you were already listening.?

Bulma walked outside onto the beachside, Chichi chasing around Trunks and Gohan. Tien and Krillin stood at the grill, watching them run about the beach. Goten in the center of it all, cheering for his brother and mother as they ran.

She leaned over to Krillin, ?So, Krillin. Did you know that Yamcha had a daughter for the past twenty-one years??

Krillin laughed, half distracted by the chase, ?That?s a good one, Bulma.?

?Oh, I?m serious.?

?Haha, you?re ser ? Wait?? Krillin looks to her, ?You?re [I]serious[/I]??

?Oh yeah. And she?s here.?

Krillin?s face widened in fear, ?H-Here??

A blood vessel bulged from her reddening face, ?YEP. Here.?

?Bulma??

She turned to him, arms crossed, ?Hm??

?Um? your face is about as red as a tomato. Are you, um, okay??

She smiled unnaturally wide, ?I?m PERFECT, Krillin.?

Chiaotzu handed a plate to Tien, as they all stare at Bulma, his little voice chiming in, ?But Bulma, are you sure you aren?t just angry that your otherwise best friend has been keeping a secret from you??

Her eye began to twitch again, ?[I]TIEN[/I].?

Tien quickly scooped up Chiaotzu and covered his mouth, ?Got it.?

Trunks and Gohan raced past them and into the house, Chichi closely in tow. Bulma grabbed her arm before she could make it through the door, and yanked her back.

?HEY!? She looked to Bulma, ?What? What?s wrong??

Krillin poked his head from behind Bulma, ?Yamcha brought his of-age daughter to our barbeque.?

?Yamcha has a daughter??

Chiaotzu pulled Tien?s hand from his mouth, ?Yeah, and Bulma is angry.?

Bulma faced them, flames building around her. Tien promptly covered Chiaotzu?s mouth with both of his hands.

Chichi shrugged, ?So what??

Bulma huffed, ?But don?t you think that?s terrible of him to not have even told us??

?Told us, or you? And what?s it matter anyway? He?s telling us now and he?s bringing her to meet everyone. At least he?s not hiding [I]us[/I] from anybody.?

Gohan and Trunks peered from around the corner of the doorway, out at Chichi, Trunks taking another swig of his whiskey. She eyed them, both promptly fleeing.

?That?s right! Run! Be afraid of the old lady!?

Gohan and Trunks crashed onto the couch beside Vegeta, looking to the television, the broadcast centering around the Cell Games, and Mr.Satan?s ?victory?. Trunks nudged Gohan, ?Look, it?s the winner.?

Gohan laughed, Vegeta?s blood boiling lightly, ?Oh I know, I love it.?

Vegeta grunted, ?How can you even stand it? We?re sayian, we?re to be praised and worshipped, not forgotten.?

Chichi walked into the room, followed in suit by Bulma and the others, as they gathered around the television, ?Oh give it a rest Vegeta.?

Krillin cringed, as footage began to play, ?Egh, my head looks big on television.?

Bulma folded her arms and leaned on the top of his head, ?That?s because it [I]is[/I] big.?

The bathroom door eased open, going unnoticed by the group, to Aimie in her bathing suit. She tossed a light long-sleeve on over her top, and inched her way from around the corner, staring at the group around the television.

?Hey, Dad, don?t be so down,? Trunks laughed, elbowing his father in the side.

Vegeta fumed, ?I?m glad this is a joke to all of you!?

Trunks? eyes caught the sight of Aimie from behind them as she quickly made to the door outside. He lost his smile and turned to Gohan.

?Did you see that??

?See what??

Trunks looked back to the empty doorway.

?What??

He shook his head and shrugged, ?Nothing I guess.?


Outside, Eighteen settled down in the sand beside Goten, along with Marron. She soon caught sight of Aimie walking out from the house, and waved her over, ?Hey. Come here.?

Complacent from the peaceful Oceanside waves, Aimie obliged her and took a seat by Eighteen and the children.

?What?s your name??

?Aimie.?

?You?re Yamcha?s daughter, right??

?News spreads fast, doesn?t it??

Eighteen smiled a half-smile, ?Not really, I?ve just got good ears.?

Aimie drew with her finger in the sand. Marron watched her briefly, sat, and began to mimic her actions.

?My name is Eighteen.?

?That?s a weird name.?

Eighteen tittered, ?This is a weird family. Get used to it.?

?I don?t think I?ll ever be used to it.?

Eighteen watched Aimie?s eyes follow Marron?s hands. A sense of melancholy washed over her, as the blue from the waves reflected within her own sapphire eyes. She suddenly felt sorry for the girl, but didn?t know why she should.

?Why?s that??

Aimie?s brows pressed against her eyelids as their reflection dissipated into the shadow, ?Life is cross. It always takes things that belong to someone else, and then it leaves you there to fend for yourself with no instruction or sympathy.?

?Kid, no one ever gets sympathy. You learn to deal with it, and you move on.?

?Easy for you to say.?

?How do you know what?s easy for me to say??

Aimie?s sights dropped again, the sullen reflection of the ocean filling them once more, ?Sorry.?

Eighteen smiled, ?Don?t be. Just remember next time.?
The wind sifted softly through their hair, the waves rippling backward, soon to return again. Aimie became lost in her own thoughts, and the world around her dropped from existence. Eighteen picked up Marron and sat her on her lap, a seagull circling above them.

Goten walked up to Aimie with his bucket and pale in hand, and held his pale to her face, ?I made some soup.?
She was silent for a moment, staring at the sand in the pale, ?You did? It must be delicious.?

?Try some.?

She sipped playfully at the pale, and licked her lips, ?Wow, that was perfect.?

Goten?s face beamed with accomplishment. He gleefully took a seat by her feet and began to stir the bucket with his hands.

From the house appeared Yamcha, stopping short of the two, hand to be back of his neck. His voice was hesitant, ?Aimie??

She looked back to him.

?There?s some people I?d like for you to meet.?

Aimie and Eighteen stood, Marron waving at Yamcha, ?Hi Yamcha!?

Goten turned from his bucket and bound to Aimie, clinging to her leg.

?Okay,? she muttered, glancing at Eighteen for a bout of silent advice. Eighteen nodded toward the house. Aimie looked to her father and started walking, ?I?m ready.?

Yamcha stared at Eighteen, puzzled by his daughter?s sudden compliance. In turn, she flashed him a coy smile, before following Aimie into the house.

?Everyone,? Yamcha drew the attention of all in the room, Eighteen shifting through Bulma and Chichi to stand beside Krillin, ?There?s someone I?d like you all to meet.?

Aimie stepped into the room.

?This is Aimie, my daughter.?

A collective gasp hummed through the room.

Master Roshi cackled, waddling over to Aimie and poking her thigh with his cane, ?You certainly didn?t get those from your father,? Her face contorted with unease, ?Good genes. Your mother must have been something else, [I]heh heh heh[/I].?

Chichi quickly proceeded to crack Roshi over the head with her elbow, ?Shut it, you old pervert!?

?Ow??

Chichi rested her hands on her waist, ?Well, it?s good to meet you, Aimie. Thank you for coming and putting up with Roshi, here.?

?You?re welcome, I think.?

Their chatter faded to hums, the light from the windows blooming out into a soft shine, and all noise fell short of Trunks? ears. His jaw slid slightly ajar of its natural place, eyes forgetting to blink at reasonable intervals. Her movements came to him in slow motion, hair dancing on the light breeze from the sea.

Vegeta was not amused. He sat silent, staring at his star-struck, future-born son for a moment before deciding to smack him upside the head.

?Get a grip,? he barked.

Trunks snapped back into reality, his father?s strong, flat eyes glued to him. Trunks heaved a sigh and leaned back against the couch, shooting one more glance in Aimie?s direction, just at the perfect moment to catch her staring straight at him.

His cheeks instantaneously burned, face lighting up like a Christmas tree. He tore his eyes from her as quickly as he could think to, and immediately gained a sudden and fervent interest in the memorial broadcast.

Krillin grinned wide and knowingly at Mirai Trunks, eyes a-slant with amusement. Eighteen punched him lightly in the shoulder to try and quell his urge to tease. She rolled her eyes and unwillingly caught his infectious grin.

* * *


?A bit to the left. Lean your shoulders towards me. Keep your waist where it is.?

?How?s this for the bounce??

Aimie looked up from behind her camera lens, over past the blossoming tree branches at a couple poised beneath the glowing magenta flowers. A frail-framed, blond-bobbed girl held a white board below them, tiny legs shaking from her positioning.

?Good. One more second, I promise,? Aimie?s shutter speeds through shots, and she pulled her face away to glance at the LCD, ?We?re good.?

The thin girl collapsed onto her knees and palms with a breathe of relief. Aimie?s sneakered feet met her sights, and she looked up to see her offering a hand, ?Sorry about that, Tas?.?

Tasia stood, taking Aimie?s hand, and brushed herself off, ?That?s what assistants are for ? to do all the tiresome and backbreaking work you used to do.?

Aimie smiled while folding the bounce board as she turned to the waiting couple.

?Photos should be finished within the week. I?ll let you know when they are.?

The sun shone down upon another day in the university park, as Aimie and Tasia eventually found their way to a nearby bench and lakeside, a pair of sodas in their hands. Tasia laid out a blanket and slid on her shades, sprawling out in the light. Aimie looked down at her from over the bench side, sipping on her cola through a colored straw.

?So, Aims, what did you do this weekend, anyway? I tried texting you about a thousand times. Was your phone whacked out or something?? A thought struck her, ?Oh! Or were you busy with someone??

Aimie shook her head, ?I was busy. But I was also out of service, otherwise I would have been texting you back. My father dragged me out to some party of his.?

?Isn?t it weird to like just suddenly have a dad around??

Aimie shrugged, ?I guess. But now that my mom?s gone, it?s really no different. I just can?t talk to him like I used to talk to my mom, you know??

Tasia lowered her shades to look at Aimie, ?Girl, I don?t think anyone can talk to their dad the way that they talk to their mom.?

?True enough.?

?So what was this party you went to? Anything interesting happen??

?No. I was practically molested by this old geezer though. Oh, did you know my dad was part of that group of people who went after Cell in the Cell Games??

Tasia sat up, mouth gaping open, ?[I]What[/I]??

?Yeah. Didn?t realize it until this weekend. The party was a memorial party for a fallen friend of theirs and the salvation of humanity. Did you know Mr. Satan didn?t actually kill Cell? Yeah, some kid named Gohan did.?

?WHAT? Hold on, let me say it again,? Tasia stood and leaned in to Aimie, ?WHAT!??

Aimie took a sip of her cola and swallowed, ?It?s true.?

Tasia sar down next to her on the bench, ?No shit. See, that never made sense to me! Because all of those are people could move so fast and they could fly? WAIT a second!? She faced Aimie, ?Aimie, can your dad? fucking [I]fly[/I]??

Aimie nodded, ?You have to fly in order to get to the island. Hence why I couldn?t text you.?

Tasia neared Aimie?s face, pulling her shades clear off her face. Aimie glanced at her from over the rim of the shades, sipping on her straw, ?Aimie? can you fly??

Aimie grinned, the straw clenched between her teeth.
Tasia gripped her hair, ?Holy shit. You can, can?t you? You can! How!?

A wind began to pick up from around them, Aimie?s eyes not pulling from Tasia as a white aura formed about her body. Tasia?s eyes widened their fullest as Aimie began to lift in her position off of the bench.

?You. Are. Shitting. Me. Aimie!? She pulled her friend back down to the bench, ?Do you[I] know [/I]what this means??

?I don?t need a license??

The comment caused her to think for a second, ?Well, I mean, besides that!?

?I never need to buy an plane ticket??

?Yes, but ??

?I could get some fantastic photos??

?Aimie! We can go to the BEACH!?

?I can?t.?

Tasia sulks, ?Why not??

?I?m taking lessons.?

?From your dad? You mean you?d rather spend time with your old man than with your best friend??

She shook her head and stood, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, ?Not my dad. My dad doesn?t know I can fly.?

?Then who??

Aimie looked to the clouds above them as they slowly begin to cover the sun, a sly smile creeping across her face.

* * *

A white cape billowed in the light gusts of upper atmosphere air, the ends of it flirting with the marbled surface of a vast platform; The Lookout. Above the floor rested a meditating and tranquil Piccolo, eyes closed and breathing steady, one with the wind and the earth.

The faint, constant echoes of approaching footsteps from behind reached his ears, but he didn?t break from form, holding fast to the last few moments of pea-

[I] - I fly like paper, get high like planes, if you catch me at the border ?[/I]

Piccolo?s eyes snapped open, whipping around to face the source of the sudden musical racket.

?TURN IT OFF.?

Aimie scrambled feverishly for her pocket, fumbling out a cell phone and silencing it.

?Sorry, sorry. God someone always has to call me when I come here. I get really good service, though.?

Piccolo approached her, grabbing the phone from her hand, and tossed it over the side of The Lookout. Aimie?s eyes flatten, ?How many times do I need to come up with an excuse for my father about a broken and or lost cell phone??

Piccolo turned away from her and toward the center of the platform, ?None. Because you should be telling him you?re coming here. And then you could blame it on me. He?d understand.?

She quickly followed him, ?Then why haven?t you told him??

?Because it?s not my job to tell him,? he begins to unravel his headpiece and shoulder pads, placing them upon the floor. Aimie picks up his headpiece.

?And yet you find it your job to train me.?

?Your father wasn?t going to do it. Someone had to.?

She crossed her arms, mocking his tonality, ?Well I?m not gonna tell him. Someone?s got to.?

He shook his head and walked past her, over and into the Pendulum Room. Aimie dropped his headpiece, stepping after him.

Piccolo looked back at her from over his shoulder, ?You?re supposed to be learning how to fight, not how to counter-retort.?

A mischievous shine found her eye, ?You should know better. By the way, you weren?t at the memorial party this weekend.?

?I don?t do parties.?

?That?s lame. You?re lame, Green Man.?

?Really, Aimie,? Piccolo drew near to her, ?Yamcha?s your father. We?ve seen enough family tragedy, and ? compared to most ? this is a relatively easy issue to fix.?

Dende appeared through the door to another room, ?Much easier than gathering the dragonballs and wishing someone back to life.?

Piccolo looked to Dende, ?Let?s not reminisce. Aimie, come with us.?

They both bound off the tower side, and descended into the mist of clouds below the edge. Aimie soon leapt after them, falling through the clouds. Her eyes caught sight of Korin Tower, its true size hidden by the thick of white surrounding it. She spotted Dende and Piccolo enter a small doorway to the left of her, and quickly follows suit, grazing through the narrow space, escaping a crash landing and catching herself.

Aimie glanced up to see an empty hall before her, ?Piccolo??

She peered around the corner to a large, open room, empty still, ?Dende??

The small of her back was met with the shove of a wooden stick, pushing her through the doorway and into the room. She turned to see Korin standing there, grinning per usual, ?Be pay-shent.?

?It?s hard to be patient.?

?If it were easy, it wouldn?t be consittered a vir?chue.?

Aimie crossed her arms and turned from him, ?Damn cat.?

?I heard dat.?

A voice called from around the arch of the crescent-shaped room, ?Aimie.?

?Coming!?

As she rounded the curve, Dende greeted her, taking her hand, leading her to the main area of the room ? a shrine. They paused amongst the greatest of honors, surrounded by past guardians of The Lookout Tower. Piccolo stood across the room, facing one of the newer, golden statues. Dende pulled on her wrist lightly, leading her to Piccolo?s side.

She stopped before the gold figure, eyes lit and humbled by the sanctity.

Piccolo closed his eyes, ?This is the shrine of the Shinsenkai. All past Guardians of Earth are honored here. The Nemekian before you is Kami, elder to Dende.?

Dende lowered his stare in respect, kneeling before the statue as he recalled his earlier days upon The Lookout.

?Why?ve you brought me here??

?Because you?re ready.?

?Ready for what??

?To stop training in your running shoes.?

Aimie looked to him.

Korin waddled his way between the two, and handed a small box to Piccolo, ?Here it is. Freshly tailored.?

?Thank you, Korin,? Piccolo?s gaze hardene, Aimie?s demeanor following suit, ?Aimie, I welcome you as the newest defender of Earth, Kami - the Nameless Nemekian - as our witness. I hope you?re prepared for this.?

?I have you,? she answered, centered and focused, ?I couldn?t ask for a better sensei.?

She took the box and opened it, to reveal the fervent orange and blue of a Gi. Her breath was still, absorbed in the moment, knowing that all others ahead would be ?

[I]- I fly like paper, get high like planes, if you catch me at the border ? [/I]

Piccolo boiled.

?Oh, Aimie, I figured dis was yours,? Korin held her phone up over the Gi box, and placed it down on the fabric, ?About the tenth phone I?ve caught falling dis year.?

[I] - I?ll get one down in a second if you wait. I fly like ? [/I]

Piccolo gripped the phone within his palm and crushed it flat, handing it back to Korin.

?Get rid of it.?

Korin inspected the crumpled piece of metal and wiring, ?Yesh, Sir.?


[Chapter Two: Coming Soon... :) ]
[/LEFT]
[/CENTER]

[Celsi_Wish]

[CENTER][SIZE=3][B][U]Chapter Two: Nightmare of the Terra Mother[/U]
[/B][/SIZE][/CENTER]

Unbeknownst to the majority of the Z fighters, Bulma and her father had taken it upon themselves to excavate and explore the ruins of Doctor Gero?s former laboratory. Most days, she could be found there, along with Dr. Briefs, rummaging through the rubble and abandoned test tubes, all in the hope that they may prevent any future android uprising.

Doctor Brief?s motto on the matter: ?What one doesn?t know? might actually kill us this time.?

The few that did know; Mirai Trunks and Vegeta, often opted out of helping, mostly out of blatant disdain for the late Doctor Gero. Neither held any interest in exploring his former confines.

It was a serene Tuesday morning, the gentle hand of spring showing its colors as the sun rose. Bulma was already out by the lab, digging through a pile of broken glass. Doctor Briefs, meanwhile, worked on the reboot of a nearby information hub.

Bulma picked up a piece of engraved glass, and stuck it into a sealed bag, inspecting piece after piece from the pile before her, ?You really think rebooting Gero?s old system is a good idea, Dad? I have mixed feelings.?

?No vorries!? He exclaimed, the screen blipping on and illuminating his face, ?The Doctor is in.?

Lights within the cave struggled to turn over, flickering intensely.

Bulma scoffed, ?Nice.?

Doctor Briefs continued to type, ?If ve are going to have a heads up on the late Doctor?s plans, ve must first understand his current status. To start, I shall backlog all previous data entries into a chit for our own system. Den, we?ll begin moving forward through his programmed timeline.?

She stood and walked over to the landed airpod, sliding the bag of glass along the floor and into the entranceway.
Almost instantly, the ground shook with life, the area around Bulma?s feet rising up below her. She squealed and leapt off the expanding rock, just as it broke through to a square, glass casing.

?What is it??

Doctor Briefs crouched down to the glass, wiping away the dirt and dust, his eyes lighting up.

?Vat ve?ve been looking for.?

[CENTER]* * *
[/CENTER]

Since the Cell games, Gohan had remained with his mother and younger brother Goten in the countryside, resisting the urge to attend high school during his later years, in exchange for the chance to better himself internally through further and more intense training ? he would become what his father once was, to be the first and final step between the people of Earth and those who sought their destruction.

Gohan sat outside his home, legs crossed and eyes eased shut. The trees around him rustled, the crackling of burning wood in the fire pit beside him melding with the sound of the leaves.

Chichi glanced out of the kitchen window, watching her eldest son meditate in the stillness. Her thoughts wandered to earlier days, when her husband would do much of the same, a solemn smile finding her. Oh, Goku, how deeply you?re missed each day.

An uneasy voice filled Gohan?s head, the familiar, yet troubled and stern voice of his father.

[I] Gohan? Can you hear me?[/I]

His eyes snapped open, turning skyward, ?Father??

[I]Gohan, how are you son? I can?t talk long, but there?s something I need to tell you.[/I]

On the planet of King Kai, Goku stands with his hand to Kai?s back.

?What is it, Father??

[I]Cell wasn?t the only android Doctor Gero left behind.[/I]

Fear struck him in the chest, immediate anxiety taking him over, ?W-What? Not the only android? What do you mean??

Goku clenched his scuffed fists tightly, for behind him laid the man himself ? Doctor Gero, shackled and surrounded by guards. The late doctor laughed, his face bloodied and jaw broken, rolling about the grass of King Kai?s planet. A guard landed a punch to his jaw.

?Shut up.?

Gero grit his mouth and grinned manically in Goku?s direction, ?He?ll never be able to find it. And if he does? Well ? HAHA!? The doctor broke into a hysterical fit, the guards pulling him by his chains to a stand.

?We?re going back.?

Goku turned from Kai, breaking his communication with Gohan, ?No! Not yet.? He walked up to Gero, coming nose-to-nose with the psychotic sheen in his eyes, ?Tell me where it?s being held.?

?And what if I don?t? Going to kill me again??

Goku seethed with avid fury, a look not common to the otherwise kind sayian, ?I?ll make you wish I could.?

[CENTER]* * *
[/CENTER]

The city buzzed with afternoon traffic, Aimie lowering herself into its skyline, between the small alleyway space of two high rises, and onto the balcony of an apartment ? her father?s apartment, her room. She came to a rest upon its surface, and glanced up one more time through the buildings at Piccolo, who hovered above her, ensuring her return to safety.

?Fear doesn?t look good on you.?

Aimie smiled up at him, eyes squinting from the bright, setting sun, ?Oh yeah??

?This is a better fit,? he tossed her Gi down at her.

?Maybe next time I leave to train, I?ll be able to walk out of my house with this on.?

He smirked, ?That?s better.?

Aimie?s stare lowered to the uniform in her hands, and then back up to him ? but he was already gone. She exhaled, opening the glass door to her room and closing it behind her.

A light knock on her door prompted a quick scrambling to hide her new apparel, Aimie sticking it beneath her pillows and undoing her ponytail.

?Yes!?

The door opened to Yamcha, ?Hey, Kiddo, it?s Chinese tonight. What do you want??

?Uh?,? Aimie pondered, taking a seat upon her bed, ?Orange chicken.?

?Orange chicken it is.?

?Oh! And spare ribs.?

?And spare ribs, got it!? He went to shut the door, but stopped and looked back into the room once more, ?Oh, Aimie??

She turns around again to face him, ?Hm??

?Tasia called. She said your cell phone isn?t going through??

Aimie?s heart began to race, ?Uh, oh. My phone? is broken.?

?Again? What do you keep doing to your phones??

?Uh ? ? Aimie?s eyes scattered about the room, seeming to search for an answer, ??Boys. I get? mad.. and? throw it.?

She, herself, is taken aback by her completely unnatural lie.

Yamcha sighed, walking into the room and taking a seat on Aimie?s bed beside her, just shy of the pillows. Aimie?s eyes instantly locked upon the orange corner of a rebellious sleeve sticking out from between the cushions, just shy of Yamcha?s resting hand.

?Aimie, if there?s one thing I can say about us guys, it?s that we?re kind of stupid.?

She nodded, far more than half distracted by her exposed Gi behind her father, the royal blue now beginning to creep out from below the pillows.

?They?re definitely not something you should be breaking expensive things like phones over.?

?You?re right, dad. You?re so right. I get it, really. Thank you for the advance.?

She stood from her seat and lifted him by his hand to a stand, leading him out of the room.

?What?s the matter??

?I just need ? uh ? time to think about what you?ve said and reflect upon my misdeeds?? Her brows press together. Was she really saying this?

Yamcha turned around in the hall, looking back at her through the doorway, ?Well, alright, I?ll call you when dinner?s here.?

Aimie perked and hurriedly scrambled to shut the door, ?Okay!?

It was then that Yamcha swiftly raised his hand to the door, ceasing its closure with a firm palm. Aimie?s skin was suddenly washed of its color, realizing that Yamcha?s eyes were locked upon the orange and blue upon her bed.

He pushed the door open roughly and moved to her bedside, swiping her pillows clear off the bed and revealing the vibrant, brand new Gi.

Aimie held her breath, the room deathly void of all sound or solace, as she backed herself between the open door and her bureau.

What do you say to a child you?ve only known for three years? A child ? an adult child ? you didn?t help raise, didn?t teach values to, didn?t even know you had before, but who suddenly decides, without your knowledge, to follow blindly in your footsteps? Should you be angry? Or should you understand? Is she nothing like you, or is she exactly as you once were? What do you say? How do you cope knowing your daughter is getting herself into something so? finite? Is there anything you could say that would change her mind?

Thoughts consumed Yamcha wholly; so much so, he didn?t hear the phone ringing itself off the hook in the other room.

Aimie eased her way out of the room, soon returning with the phone in her hand. She cautiously approached her father, holding the phone out to him, ?Dad? It?s Bulma.?

Yamcha looked from Aimie?s Gi to the phone, calmly taking it from her and bringing it to his ear. His voice was strained, off-pitch and unstable, ?Hello??

[I] ?Yamcha, it?s Bulma. I need you over at the labs, now! There?s something we found that you need to see.?[/I]

?Be right there.?

[I] ?Okay good. I?m calling everyone. This is big, Yamcha. This is really big.?[/I]

?Big as in bad??

[I] ?Big as in we?re glad we found it before it found us.?[/I]

Suddenly, the discovery of his daughter?s Gi dropped significantly on his priority list, ?What do you mean, Bulma??

[I] ?Just get here.?[/I]

The phone clicked, Yamcha turning to look at Aimie, ?We need to go.?

?Go where??

?To the Brief Corps,? he tossed to her the phone, ?Put it back on the charger. You can tell me later which of my so-called friends has been sneaking behind my back with my own daughter.?

[CENTER]* * *
[/CENTER]

?They?re nanobots. Small, microscopic robots capable of taking a walk through your bloodstream. In short, if they felt like eet, they could kill you in seconds.?

Doctor Briefs paced about the observation room, the group of gathered Z Fighters standing behind him, looking in at an encased canister on the other side of the plexiglass wall.

The door opened to Piccolo, who shuffled in quietly as Doctor Briefs spoke, ?Ve cannot analyze any of eet yet, either. The liquid that contains the nano technology is radioacteev, and handling the liquid could quite possibly result in death, or vorse.?

Aimie shot Piccolo a side-glance as he stood behind her, arms folded and listening in. His eyes moved from Aimie to Yamcha and back again, a looming suspicion sparking within him. Why did Yamcha bring Aimie to this meeting?

Tien neared the plexi, trying his best to spot the minute robots within the shining, green tube, ?Were they really programmed to just kill everyone??

?Ve don?t know. Ve can?t get to them to find out. Eet?s quite possible they could be, but as history sees eet, Doctor Gero vas simply? not that simple. So likely not. He did do a good job of protecting his assets, though.?

Bulma spun around in the office chair at the control panel, looking to Gohan, ?Did Goku say anything else about the androids??

Gohan shook his head, ?No. He was interrupted. All he said was that Cell wasn?t the only one he left behind.?

?If that?s the case,? she turned to Mirai Trunks, ?When you went back home to destroy the other androids, did you blow the lab up completely??

Trunks nodded, ?Completely. It was a pile of sand when I was finished with it. Not even rock anymore to be honest. I don?t think that tube could have survived what I had done. Should I go back and check??

Bulma looked to her father, who once again paced the room in thought, ?Don?t got back yet. Ve must figure out if these nanobots are capable of withstanding trauma. And, moreover, what they are programmed to do. Going back to your time without prior knowledge could result in your demise. And no grandson of mine shall be dying whilst I can prevent it ? future-born or not.?

?But what about my mother? What if she?s already been affected by them??

?Den going back won?t change anything, except your chances of survival and her chances of recovery. Don?t be so brash. We mustn?t go assuming anyt?ing yet. That?s what got us in trouble the first time around.?

Trunks held his breath as his mind wandered back in time to his mother, a silent prayer for her safety lingering at the forefront of his thoughts.

Aimie elbowed Yamcha lightly with the side of her crossed arms, sharing a questioning glance with him and nodding in Trunks? direction. Yamcha scowled in disappointment at her query, turning from her without even a hint of an answer. Aimie sighed, leaning her weight away from him under a bout of frustration.

Piccolo watched the exchange from behind them, confirming his suspicions; Yamcha was aware of her allegiance to their cause. That, and he wasn?t happy about it, and knowing Yamcha as he did ? that was an understatement. An overreaction was brewing with every second that passed. It was evident that ? despite his seemingly focused concentration on the matter at hand ? he was distracted, scarcely listening to the precautionary words of the doctor. How grating.

Suddenly, the door opposite the plexiglass burst open to Trunks and Goten, the two rushing about the room, viral tube of nanobots sitting in the dead center.

A shared gasp consumed the group on the other side, Bulma darting to a stand, ?TRUNKS! Stop playing around right now!?

The two boys laughed together, mockingly fighting one another through the room. Gohan slammed his palm against the glass by Goten, causing him to turn and face his older brother, ?GOTEN! Get out of that room now. You?re in danger!?

?Gee, sorry, Gohan.?

From behind him, Trunks grasped the vibrant cylinder with both hands, eyes lit with naïve enthusiasm.

Vegeta lunged forward, throwing his hands against the plexi, ?Son, put that down now!?

Young Trunks looked to his father from over his shoulder, stilling his movements and lowering the cylinder in his hands. Bulma?s body shook with terror, breaths shortening and skin beading with a nervous, heated sweat. Vegeta glimpsed at his horrified wife, feeling the utter dread crawling beneath her skin. For a moment, he wanted to reach out to her, but quickly turned his focus back to their son.

?Trunks, put the tube on the floor and leave the room.?

Trunks began to tremble, unaware of the immediate dangers, more afraid of the aftermath of parental discipline that potentially awaited him, ?Am I in trouble??

?No, Son, just put the tube down and leave the room.?

Bulma pleaded, ?Please, Trunks. Just put it down. You?re not in trouble, Mommy promises.?

?O ? okay?,? Trunks lowered himself to the ground, slowly placing Doctor Gero?s device onto the tile. His hands raised away from the cylinder, and he backed away, easing himself towards the door.

?Goten, follow Trunks,? Gohan urged, ?Just leave the room.?

?Okay, brother.?

The two boys flew through the doorframe, closing it behind them.

A mass sigh of relief exudes from them all, Bulma losing her consciousness and falling from her standpoint. Vegeta swiftly moved to catch her, scooping her up in his arms.

Krillin crossed his arms, ?Somebody really needs to put a lock on that door.?

Doctor Briefs laughed, ?Oh, I?m not that foolish. Of course there?s a lock on the door ? I locked it my?,? his voice trailed off, eyes sinking into the back of his head as he directed his sights to the plexiroom?s door lock. He had locked it himself; from the outside. And the only way to have it unlocked without a key would?ve been? from the inside? But no one was in the room, except the cylinder ?
?My god?,? he slid hid glasses from his face, haphazardly folding them with both hands.

Gohan spoke up, ?What is it, Doctor??

?They?re out. The nanos? they?re out.?