|This story, Tien: Origins, is written with the intent to preserve and respect the official Dragon Ball canon, and to fit perfectly into the established Dragon Ball universe, per this policy.|
Tien: Orgins is a fanfiction by Destructivedisk which is finished. It features Tien as its primary character, with Chiaotzu and Yamcha as secondary characters. It deals with Tien discovering his alien origins. It attempts to be canon, and takes place following Dragon Ball Z. So far as canon goes, only the manga is regarded and any contradictions with either anime filler or Dragon Ball GT are to be disregarded. It has a minor crossover with the Star Trek universe.
Awakens Ancient Feelings
When I was small and stuff,
I hipitty hoppitied to the store with my brother,
Then I fell and blood went everywhere,
It was bad,
This apparently influences my writing somehow,
Master Shen was, at one point, many years into the past, a marvelous warrior; he had been one of the few to stand up to the great King Piccolo, who was the epitome of invincible, and the long-trusted companion of the spectacular Master Roshi. But, of course, upon failure, he ever-so-hastily turned to darkness and later became the prime rival of the great Roshi. He trained Tien and Chaozu to kill without mercy. So close to their becoming of full-fledged assassins, they were, that his disappointment when they reformed without a second thought was greater than the disappointment of a mother upon her son dropping out of a community college due to it being far too difficult.
He had lived a long, adventurous life, indubitably. But, on this particular starry night, he was but a bum, no longer profiting at his martial arts school. His school had been put to shame after their cheating scandal at the 22nd World Martial Arts Tournament, where it was internationally revealed that Chaozu had been assisting Tien in his fight against Goku.
Nobody wanted to attend an academy that had committed an act of such high perfidy, and he started losing patrons at an alarming rate. He was now out of a house, out of money, and out of any sort of notable hope.
His only chance, as miniscule as the chance may have been, was to take quarter with two former students; namely, Tien and Chaozu. He had searched for them for quite some time, scaling across every mountain, every waterfall, every city, and every plateau he could find, until, upon one fortunate night, he coincidentally came across the fine mountain they were training at, and their notice of him was not only immediate but also filled with frustration. They glided down to him with the utmost urgency, and asked him, with the highest standard of elegancy, why he was bothering their humble training ground.
“What are you doing here, old man?” Tien shouted, clearly infuriated by his sudden appearance.
“That’s no way to greet your old master, Tien. You know that,” Shen snarkily replied, with his trademark evil sneer.
“Get away from here, you big bully!” Chaozu retorted, beginning to fly toward the elderly man.
“Quiet, Chaozu. We haven’t seen this man in well over 30 years; he’s not stopping by to say hey and then leave. Let’s hear him out first, and then we can decide what to do with the trash.”
“Tien, Chaozu, do not treat me like this,” the old man rang out, his voice holding a signature cackle and obnoxious sneer. “I have came to not be your nuisance but instead your modest houseguest. I have already trained you; do you not think you could spare a small bit of room and a bed for me to sleep in?” His bargaining was as sly as ever, as he had not the slightest interest in gain for the other party and interest in gain for himself alone, but he made it out to be a fair favor for the other person.
Alas, Tien was not one to fall for such tricks, and quickly responded, “Please, like your training of us was a good thing. You tried to turn us into heartless hitman, and for that I owe you no debt.”
Shen tilted his head upwards towards Tien, his hat tipping slightly backwards and his grey hair shining, “But Tien, I have a great gift to offer you. Not one of monetary value perhaps, but one of immense value nonetheless. I promise that it would be worth a few meals and a little bit of shelter.”
“Pssh. What could you have to offer me outside of petty words of advice and worthless training?” Tien replied, his frustration steadily growing.
“Tien, have you ever wondered where you got your third eye?
It was quite the unusual sight to see Tien and Chaozu strolling down the sidewalks of West City; although the inhabitants of the area were accustomed to seeing strange creatures, it was nevertheless strange to see a Triclops and a Jiang-Shi pairing. However, most unarming was the look of fierce determination upon the faces of the whole of the two, with a look of sternness rivaled only by a mother hen’s war-face upon a wild coyote trying to steal her chicks.
Chaozu was, unsurprisingly, floating several feet above the ground, with his body completely parallel to Tien’s. Tien’s arms were viciously swinging back and forth at his side, all for the sole sake of generating one simple message through a complex use of gestures and body language: We need to get somewhere.
Of course, this was in no way tomfoolery, as they genuinely did need to get to a place and urgently they needed to get there. Capsule Corp. was their destination, and they had flown for hundreds of miles solely for the sake of getting there. Once they arrived, they would need to speak to Bulma, who was their longtime comrade and eternal benefactor; she would, certainly, supply them with the devices they needed to complete their mission of self-discovery.
Within a few moments, they had reached the Briefs’ residence, and swiftly rang the doorbell which resulted in a swift door answer. The person that was waiting for them was not Bulma Briefs, no, but the mother of blue-haired wonder, who cheerfully greeted them with the utmost naivety. Upon their request to be taken to the room of Bulma, they were quickly taken to her place of pleasure, and after a gentle knock on the door, they were momentarily let into the personal room of the younger Mrs. Briefs herself.
Bulma: <QUICKLY SITS DOWN, POINTS TO TWO CHAIRS ON OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE ROOM FOR THE TWO OTHERS TO SIT DOWN IN> Tien! Chaozu! What a surprise to see you two here!
Tien: <SITS DOWN, AGGRAVATED LOOK UPON FACE> Yes, Bulma, thanks for the greeting and everything, but today is not the day for pleasantries. Chaozu and I have come here on matters of serious business.
Bulma:<SLY SMILE SPREADS ACROSS FACE> Business, you say? You want some type of product from Capsule Corp.?
Tien: Yes, Bulma, a product. I’m not even fully certain if it is currently available or not, but I still need to use it. This is a highly personal matter.
Bulma: <RECLINES IN CHAIR> A personal matter? Tell me about that.
Tien: <RELUCTANTLY> That damn old man, Shen, met up with me last night. He was broke, completely broke, and wanted care for us. ‘Course, we refused him, but he told me something about myself which changed my mind. He told me that I was an alien and that’s where my third eye came from. <BULMA DOES NOT SEEM EMOTIONALLY AFFECTED> I don’t even know if he’s telling the truth or not, really, but he seemed sincere; well, as sincere as that old man can get. And, quite frankly, this is the only lead I have as to who I am.
Bulma: So, what does any of this have to do with Capsule Corp.?
Tien: I need to borrow a spaceship, so that I can try to find my home planet.
Bulma: <SMILES DEVILISHLY> With the friends discount included, I can offer you one at the low price of 2 billion Zeni…
Tien and Chaozu were completely out of luck. They had very little money to begin with, and that which they did have certainly wasn’t enough to purchase something of that price. This was the only place with spaceships on the Earth, and they could not afford to get any from this place, leaving them without any options whatsoever.
As they solemnly exited the corporation, they heard an immense noise coming from behind them. It was an engine noise, although it was deafening and forced both Tien and Chaozu to cover their ears with haste. Upon turning their heads in the direction of the disturbance, they found it to be their ticket off the planet; a spaceship.
It seemed to be touching down in close proximity to Dr. Briefs, who was waving it down. He was already almost fully deaf, and thus the noise did not bother him in the slightest. Tien and Chaozu dashed over to him, to which they saw none other than Yamcha, baseball player extraordinaire, sitting in the pilot’s seat. As he touched down, he stuck his head out of the window and, with an exhilarated smile, yelled to the duo, “Tien! Chaozu! Dr. Briefs is letting me test drive this baby! Wanna take it for a spin?”
Oh yes, they did, they very, very much did.
This Bottle of Stevens
“God damn them Caucasian girls! Take you in, call you their own, make you feel loved…make you cut off your long, glorious hair and then throw you out in favor of some alien guy!” I blurted out at Tien and Chaozu, who were freshly on the ship. Tien responded with some gibberish about finding his home planet, to which I said nothing.
Y’know, I gave up everything for her. I moved out of the desert, stopped stealing, stopped killing, stopped everything that made me happy, all for one blue-haired witch. ‘Course, beautiful she was, and beautiful she still is, with an ever-brilliant gleam in her eyes and beautiful azure hair, she’s a stunner.
But she cheated on me, without any regrets; the bitch ran off with that short-ass and never even took a moment to apologize for it. ‘Course, I tried to play it off, being the cool guy I am, but I never felt the same. Never trusted again. I got more girlfriends, which was no problem, considering that I am quite the stud, but I never felt much of anything for any of them. I stopped training then, as there was no point. The only reason I ever did any of it was for her…and now she was gone.
God, this Stevens was good…mouthwatering. Sobriety was so boring. All that trying to be all sophisticated and classy, presentable. “What’s the point of it all?! Any of it?! It’s all pointless, that’s what!” I hollered, smashing my fist against the steering panel.
With a shocked look, Tien replied, “Yamcha, what the hell are you talking about? Are you okay?”
“Me? Okay? ‘Course I’m okay! Never better, pal. What gave you the idea that I wasn’t okay? Stop being so silly!” I shouted, before taking the last swig of my beer and smashing it against the ground, causing it to shatter. “I’m fine…just fine…” I finished, before falling quickly to the ground, a wet mess, writhing on the floor. I beat my fists against the ground, causing small dents in the floor.
Tien dashed to the steering wheel, apparently frightened by my leaving of the steering wheel. He frantically pressed a few buttons and messed with the driver, but without a hint of objective. “Nah, Tien, I can guide us…don’t worry about it…” I stood up, and then keeled over and pushed him away. I took the steering wheel into hand and, vision blurred, spun it around a wee bit, before emphatically yelling, “Isn’t this fun, Tien? Great time to test drive this fine ship around space!” We were all closing in on some dry, brown planet, and it had a certain green aura about it, almost like it was pulling us in.
“Hey, you two wanna go look around that planet? It’ll be fun. Maybe ya’ll find your race and stuff Tien…” I said, gently taking the wheel and harshly directing it toward the planet, pumping up the speed just for the hell of it. Tien and Chaozu, ‘specially Chaozu, looked kinda distressed, but it didn’t matter much to me. It was just so pretty to look at the ground as we came towards it.
Oh, that’s right, I needed to land and all that. What did they about that when they were telling me how to drive this ship? Pull this or that lever, press a few buttons…oh forget about it, they built this ship to withstand damage, right?
Other miscellaneous sounds which mean loud
I couldn’t hear when I stood up. Notta sound. It was completely silent, and I stumbled around for a ‘lil bit before collapsing completely onto the ground. I stood back up, before I wandered off for a while. I could hear footsteps behind me, but I didn’t care to turn and check out who it was. I just wandered, looking for somethin’ to do somethin’ with, and came across nothin’. I was hungry, tired, sore, dizzy; plenty o’ unpleasant things.
“I AM THE GUARDIAN OF FOREVER,” a voice boomed, just as I collapsed once more upon the ground. I stood up again, wandering towards what appeared to be a ruin, a rustic, brown circle, some type o’ strange image in the middle of it.
“And what the hell does that mean?”
“I am neither machine nor being. I am that which controls all of time and all of matter. I am the guardian of all that exists.”
“Mondo cool story. Any chance you know where my pal, Tien, comes from?” I slurred back to him.
“Tien hails from the Planet Legoom, of the Bekk race.”
“Really? I always thought he was a human. Cool, he’s a Bekk. Anyways, you mentioned controlling matter and whatnot; could you send us there?”
“Sending you there would be a great gamble. You could destroy history as we know it. It is a place far in the place, a place very subject to alteration. But if you so wish I could send you there.”
“Yeah, cool, so how do I get there and stuff?”
“You must pass through me when I tell you to. From there, you will be transported into the past, to the home planet of Tien.”
And when he told me to run, I ran really fast through his inner circle, and then I came out the other side without the slightest idea of where I was.
Tien was trailing Yamcha, hoping to figure out with the drunkard was going. He was sensing his energy signature, although there appeared to be no clear structure to his movements. It was upon his catching up with Yamcha that he heard a large voice explode out with sound; they watched as Yamcha’s silhouette passed through a monolithic circle, and they felt an ominous buzz pass through themselves.
Chaozu himself was most perplexed by the ruin; he flew over to it dazedly, before briefly reaching out and touching the outside circle. He traced the intricate patterns printed upon its side, feeling a strangely nostalgic connection to it, although the artifact broke the silence by saying, “From what of me do you need?”
“Send us after Yamcha! Show us where he’s gone!” Chaozu responded, pointing at the circle.
“Very well. But I warn you now; the place he is going, to the location of your race, is 1000 years in the past. The slightest change can cause an entirely different future. ”
Neither Tien nor Chaozu cared. They stood adamantly, prepared to face any danger. The circle stood in front of them, defiantly resisting the wind, but they cared naught. A journey was ahead, but journeys were nothing new to them, nor was fighting or even so much as death. But, on this journey, neither of them were going to die; they would find Tien’s race, they would rejoice, and they would discover.
The duo stepped through the ruin with the utmost haste.
Tien rushed at Yamcha with great speed; as his drunken figure traversed across the great city they had happened upon. Their feet moved swiftly off and back onto the sidewalk, their speed increasing exponentially as their momentum picked up. The innocent bystanders were horribly shocked, mouths agape as these three mysterious figures trespassed upon their land out of seemingly nowhere.
Tien was far Yamcha’s superior in fighting ability and power. There should be no doubt on this subject. As such, when Tien chased after a staggering Yamcha, it took him mere moments to catch up with the inebriated man, and naught but a stern bump to the head to quash him. He fell to the ground like a rock in a cataclysmic battle with gravity, his speed intensifying extremely during the few milliseconds it took him to fully collapse.
Tien picked his limp body up, before throwing him over his shoulder as though he were a sack of potatoes. He trotted casually back to the town, before setting his figure down upon a small bench.
“That boy - can he fight?” croaked out a gruff, but strangely somewhat high-pitched, voice.
“Yeah, he can fight,” Tien replied, before continuing with, “And he can probably do it a lot better than you can, too.” It was then that Tien shifted around to face the questioner, who seemed taken aback by a feature on Tien’s forehead; more specifically, his third eye.
“Pssh. Better than me, I’m sure. What, you take a walk on the Saiyan side of the planet, thricer?” Tien was taken aback by this abrupt reference to Saiyans; were they not an extinct species?
“What the hell’s a thricer? My name’s Tien.”
“Yeah. And I’m Kordar. But, unlike you, I’m not a blasphemy to my entire race.” Kordar laughed at this, as did a group of heavily armored soldiers who seemed to perform an apparition right next to him.
“I’m not a blasphemy. Where did you come up with that?”
“Guess that the Saiyan’s stupidity rubbed off on you, huh? Ya thricers bring disrespect to all of us. Shameful three-eyes.”
“What? You gotta problem with my third eye? It’s been there since my birth, and I don’t think it is going to go away.”
“Pfft. Doubtful. Us Bekks don’t get a third eye ‘till someone does something for us and then we become indebted to them and don’t lose them until we repay said person. And while we have them, we’re kept perfectly weak and perfectly stupid. Not of use to anyone. Why aren’t you with the others, by the way, thricer?” he scoffed, pointing towards a wooden hut, overcrowded with people.
“I’ve always had this. I don’t know if you can understand that, but this has always been on me. There is no denying that.”
“Yeah, real likely story. But either way, tell me about that knocked out guy over on the bench. How good is he?”
“Judging by your power, he’s very good. As I’ve said, much stronger than you. Significantly so. Even Chaozu could probably beat you,” Tien retorted, a strong tone of disrespect in his voice.
“Heh, stronger than me. As doubtful as it is that another Bekk is stronger than me, I’d be more than willing to see how his power compares to me…when the fool wakes up from his little nap,” Kordar quickly replied, the last segment of his sentence being met by a large round of applause from the crowd of Bekk tools surrounding him.
Tien inched toward Kordar and made a small bit of powerful eye contact. “Or, you could take me on right now. How does that sound?” he stated, before raising his fist up to Kordar’s chin. Kordar, of course, in his eternal haughtiness and inability to sense power levels, thought of Tien as his automatic inferior; he knew no equal to him, for this was his legion and he reigned dominant above all.
“Tien, no!” Chiaotzu yelped. “There isn’t any need to cause trouble right now. If this really is your race, it’d be better to be viewed as a good guy than a killer!”
Upon this urging, Tien stepped back and scanned his surroundings. The bystanders were cowering, as they were primarily peaceful people. Nobody wanted this fight to explode right now, and Kordar appeared to hold a high status of some sort. Killing him in blind fury surely would not be the best decision, nor would causing a ruckus. Let it be, Tien thought, and Yamcha can handle it all tomorrow.
“Look, thricer, if the lump of a man over there really can fight, he can stay with us for the night. As can your fine flying friend over there, granted that he has some skill too. But you gotta go stay with the other slop, in the thricer house.” There was no possibility of compromise in Kordar’s word, as he was not used to dealing with those who had a higher power than him, and, in his own little slice of the universe, he was the strongest. He had no reason, in his mind, to make an agreement with Tien, and he certainly would not do so as such.
Tien could obliterate the Bekk soldier in mere moments; he knew that fully well, too. However, he was not the only piece of the game here. His friends needed to be put into account in this circumstance, as they needed quarter even more than he. And, although he could scarcely believe it himself, he found himself croaking out an agreement to Kordar’s terms.
The thricer house was a genuinely horrendous place. Tien himself could barely find a place to lay his head amongst the swarm of people in the hut. Adding to this abomination of human standards was the lack of cleanliness in the hut; there was seldom a spot not occupied by a bit of grime or dirt. The other thricers in the hut, however, seemed to accept this with utter ease. They were calm and relaxed, with a look of near blankness on their face, they scuttled about aimlessly, hoping neither for anything better nor for a rescue from the hell they were in.
Tien, who understood the concept of fairness, was repulsed. This treatment was worse than that of not having housing or even shelter. He would choose the outside over this with utter ease, as it at the very least allowed for the privilege of movement. In here, the spaces were so cramp that a movement would send him bumping into another thricer, which was quite the unfavorable action. Leaving the house would not be a necessarily wise idea, as he had genuinely no clue as to what the outside was like; they could be ambushed, a cataclysmic weather event could occur, or a group of nasty predators could ride in at any moment. This would have to be sufficient, for the moment.
Yamcha, alternately, was luxuriating in a perfectly suitable household. A pregnant housewife was tending to him and Chaozu while he was unconscious, placing his drooping body into a cozy spare bed, as she provided Chaozu with a hot beverage and a pleasant talk.
“Yes, you really mustn’t mind Kordar. He can be a bit…rambunctious at times. He’s really not a bad guy,” she told him. They were sitting together in the living room as Kordar trained outside, although it was the middle of the night. “He is the strongest of our race, and he is the leader of our military, so he naturally has to train constantly. Even when our baby is close to being delivered…” she continued. She was his wife, making her the wife of the general of the military, a highly coveted position in any circle.
“That bully is the leader of the military? That’s ridiculous! How can he be in charge?” Chaozu responded, his fury over Tien maltreatment resurfacing.
“Yes - and he is a good one, too. Never have we lost a battle against the Saiyans with him in charge…although many lives have been lost because of it…” she responded, at which point they were fully silent. Neither had anything to say.
Kordar was an excellent, albeit ruthless, leader. He was strong, an incredible tactician, and always had the highest hopes for his race in mind. Never did he fear, his head always held in a proud fashion, without the slightest evidence of doubt in his face.
The concluding battle for the Bekk race was tomorrow. It was then that they would face the Saiyan race on in the final battle over who owned this land. The Bekks and the Saiyans were both proud races, who considered their only superiors to be nonexistent. As such, it was inevitable. A significant part of the war was the simple matter of who was the stronger of the two; no matter what political cover they put over it, the core of the war was determining who was the superior in strength. With that said, the official reason was over who would own this or that land and their fights over this had been immense. Tomorrow was when the final decision would be made. Whoever won the battle tomorrow won the war.
Yamcha awoke with a splitting headache. He stumbled out of his bed unaware of his location, before opening up a door and vomiting. He found himself atop a staircase, which he stumbled down with lead for feet. Upon reaching the penultimate step, he fell, landing face first upon the ground. He regained his footing, at which point the was greeted by Kordar himself, who stated, “Thricer said you could fight. Can ya?”
Yamcha was suddenly nimble footed by the mention of fighting. He hastily responded with, “Yeah, I can fight. Wanna go for a quick spar to test me?”
“Heh, sure, you can have a go at me. Just be warned, I’m a strong one.” Yamcha, who could sense power, knew this to be true, but also knew Kordar to not be a challenge for himself. They quickly headed outside, where Yamcha took on his typical sparring position and Kordar took on his own.
Yamcha disappeared within a mere moment, and Kordar glanced from side to side, searching for him. He found nothing. “Wolf Fang Fist!” Yamcha hollered, materializing behind Kordar and latching onto his arm as though his fingers were teeth, sinking into his skin. He then took the Bekk general, pivoted, and slammed him into the ground. Kordar was left a crumpled mess, barely able to move.
He leaped back up and lunged at Yamcha, who swiftly dodged him as Kordar plummeted through the air towards nothing. He laughed, which only infuriated Kordar more. He turned back around and threw another punch. Yamcha caught this punch, and, rather than performing another offensive attack, he said, “Haha, you really need some more training before you can take on me!”
Kordar was mortified at having met another stronger than him. This was entirely unprecedented. However, he nonetheless was a general who had his race’s best interests in mind, and, somewhat reluctantly, he uttered, “Would you - would you join my army?”
Yamcha took not time to respond. “Of course. When’s the next fight gonna be?”
“It’s - it’s today. Against the Saiyans. If you can beat me, you can beat them.”
“Saiyans? What?” Yamcha then had a slight recollection of the prior night; he remembered having talked to the circle thing, having asked to come back in time to meet Tien’s race. But back to the time of Saiyans? Why would they come all the way back here? “Oh yeah, Saiyans. Despicable race. I’d love to kick some Saiyan ass.” He did a quick power scan of the planet, only to find that, on the other side of the planet, the powers were quite higher than on the Bekk side. A few were even stronger than Vegeta was when he first came to Namek. He could sense one who was even stronger than Yamcha when he left King Kai‘s planet; why were they so powerful?
As Kordar began to say something else, Tien strolled up to the two. Yamcha was the first to speak to him.
Yamcha: Hey, Tien. Are you going to be fighting the Saiyans too?
Kordar: Yeah, like I’d let a thricer fight with us in this war. Fucking weaklings…
Yamcha: Nah, Tien isn’t a weakling. He’s stronger than I am, and by a lot, too.
Kordar: I don’t care how strong he is in your fantasies. I don’t need any more thricers in the army, thanks. I’ve already got one, and that’s just to keep the townspeople happy. He’s a useless soldier, too.
Yamcha: The Saiyans are strong. You need help from everyone you can get it from.
Tien: And, quite frankly, I’m much stronger than you are. I’m stronger than everyone in the army, too.
Kordar: Pfft. You’re just a thricer with stupid delusions of grandeur. A thricer like you won’t be any help at all.
Tien: Look, you arrogant ass, you need to let me fight in this war. I can help all of you. You don’t know what could happen out there. I’d be able to handle anything that they could throw at us; I can promise you that. Or, I could kill you and join myself? <RAISES FIST>
Kordar: Whatever ya say, boss.
Just Close my Eyes
Tien was pissed. Kordar, immediately following his sarcastic remark towards Tien, had sent him back to the thricer house. Tien, who wanted to avoid causing a scene, complied with this order and returned to the horrendous hut. Tien was the strongest person on the planet, and significantly so, too, but he nonetheless knew what saiyans were capable of; Yamcha, Kordar, and Chaozu alone wouldn’t be able t handle some of them if they took on a Great Ape transformation, or, worse yet, the Super Saiyan transformation. He needed to be out there, he needed to help fight.
Of course, with that said, he was uncertain if he even should help out the Bekks. Even if they were his race, which he was fairly certain they were, there was still the matter of whether or not they were worthy of protection. Nobody seemed to stand up for this unfair treatment of the thricers, nor did any of them seem to show any signs of rebellion towards Kordar the horrid. If a race was willing to abide by Kordar’s rules and allow this heavy persecution, it was entirely possible that their life was an unnecessary part of the universe.
Of course, they were his race. Tien, simply out of the justice in his heart, should protect them, even if only for the purpose of being an honorable fellow. But would he be willing to place his own existence on the line solely for the sake of their benefit?
“Today is the day where we prove our glory!” hollered Kordar to an immense crowd of Bekk soldiers, who yelled in approval of this statement. “Tonight, we kill those saiyan apes and take this world for our own!” This continued speech yielded even more excited war cries. “Join your power with that of my own! Kill the enemy! The enemy!” The immense crowds of people were exhilarated by this impressive speech; they began to screech at volumes which rivaled even that of Kordar himself, meaning that the cumulative sound created by this meeting boomed far and wide, damaging the ear drums of those who were as much as several miles away.
It was an incredible assembly in all imaginable ways. Even Chaozu and Yamcha were impressed by the energy emitted by the soldiers, as would anybody inexperienced in army meets. The power levels were not spectacularly high; generally speaking, they ranged from around 10,000 to 30,000, as were most of the saiyan soldiers on the opposite side of the planet. There were two fairly obvious exceptions to this rule, who stood atop the stage, one of whom had just given a motivational speech.
“Eh, Nuzeel, it’s good to have you back from your training. You were out in the forests for quite some time. I trust that you are much more powerful now?” Kordar asked his fellow general, standing to the left of him, who had just that day returned from months of intense training. His power had nearly doubled, although he was still far weaker than Kordar was. He was now about equivalent to Chaozu in strength.
“Ay, mate, o’ course I’m stronger. Maybe now I won’t be quite so much dead weight to ya?” Nuzeel cackled, his heavy accent coming through strong and fast. He had always been a fantastic warrior, although people sometimes grew tired of his irregular speech patterns.
“You never were dead weight, uh, mate. I was just always stronger than you. Probably still am, too,“ Kordar arrogantly replied.
“Haha, mate, we’ll see about that on the battlefield! For now, let’s just get prepared for battle with them Saiyans!” Nuzeel responded, before warmly patting Kordar on the back.
Nuzeel was far the nicer of the two generals. Forever joyous he was, in battle and in war, yet he was a great leader nonetheless. He had a sector of the army, as did Kordar; both also had a fierce hatred for the Saiyans and neither would have any remorse upon killing them. Mercy they lacked and such would show when they fought that day.
“It is now that we depart!” Kordar exclaimed. “My army shall ride in shuttle A; Nuzeel’s shall take shuttle B. Begin gathering your strength now! The location is a great distance away and this shall be a long battle. We need all the energy we can get!” The soldiers filed out of the building like ants. They were organized and moved with rigor, heading to their shuttle with speed and efficiency. Yamcha and Chaozu, however, had no such urgency, instead choosing to fly ahead of the two shuttles. Personally, they preferred the air, so why settle for the ground?
As Yamcha and Chaozu exited the meeting grounds, in the air, of course, people were dazzled. They had no Ki control, and, as such, none of them had ever seen flight before. The same went for the Saiyans; in their primitive ages, they lacked Ki manipulation abilities, leading to this war being one of physical combat and nothing else. Yamcha and Chaozu were not unique in making a grand exit, though, as the eternally abnormal Kordar rode upon his own form of transportation, far ahead the shuttles.
He rode atop a tiger, or, more accurately, a tiger-like creature. The creature, whose name was Qagh, belonged to the species of Hijah. Kordar had an unparalleled affinity for this “pet”, choosing him as his primary mode of transportation whenever possible. He was treated as highly as the general himself, and any disrespect toward him was viewed as felony. Qaph was strong, too, with power which surpassed much of the Bekk army with ease. If one were to compare him with others, he would rank in at #3, right behind Nuzeel, and, of course, Kordar himself.
Rode the bold knight
Atop his trusty steed he rode
Ready to make some Saiyans explode
And as the Bekks drank in joy of war
The knight was not joyous anymore
The time for joviality was done
And it was time for battles to be won
For this was for his wife
For this was for his life
For this was for his unborn child
The bulk of his kill list was soon to be compiled The Saiyans were awaiting the coming Bekks. Their army was monolithic and powerful, dwarfing that of the Bekk army, but they nonetheless stood little a chance against the likes of Chaozu and Yamcha. Of course, the Bekk soldiers cared naught about this, instead solely wanting to rejoice in the soul of the battle.
“C’mon, Yamcha, can’t I try fighting them?” Chaozu pleaded, as the eager Yamcha was more than ready to have a violent crack at the opposing army.
“All right, Chaozu, just leave a few for me, okay?” Yamcha, in Tien’s absence, had taken on the role of Chaozu’s master, thus allowing him to make the rules in the battle proceedings.
“Thank you, Mr. Yamcha!” Chaozu eagerly responded, before firing out a Dodon Ray at a crowd of Saiyan soldiers who were marching eagerly down the war ground. Naturally, this killed them all, nearly instantaneously, surprising all but Yamcha. “Haha, I can’t remember the last time I got a chance to do that!” Chaozu giggled. Everyone within sight range was absolutely perplexed; what was this magical beam shot out of the magical flying man? Was he a deity of sorts? An angel?
This simple finger beam, considered weak by Z Fighter standards, went forth to inspire Saiyan religion for hundreds of years. Nappa himself, all those years later, noted the eerie resemblance between the little man he was fighting and the Saiyan God, before Chaozu spontaneously imploded on his back.
At this point, Chaozu dove down into the middle of the field they were battling upon. He fired off simple energy blasts at the Saiyans standing next to him, almost all of whom were killed within moments or, in the lesser scenarios, horrendously injured, never to fight again. Not that that meant much.
It had been a mere minute, perhaps 2, yet Chaozu had already killed several hundred Saiyans. At this rate, the Saiyan defeat was inevitable. A meager midget, one with white skin, was decimating their entire army with utter ease. Something had to be done about this, and quickly, too.
“Jimac, take him on. You can take him, right?”
“Ye - Yes, cap’n. I can take him on. And you can take him on if I fail, ri - right?” Jimac stuttered back. He was the second in command of the Saiyan army; in many ways, the Saiyan equivalent of Nuzeel. While he was constantly intimidated by his superior, they nevertheless shared a strong bond. Jimac was obsequious to the utmost degree, doing whatever he possibly could to please his captain, while the Saiyan general above him returned this servile nature with cold affection.
“Come here, you little fucker!” Jimac screeched, before dashing after Chaozu. He was quite a bit faster than him, and he caught up with him in seconds. He jumped into the air, before latching onto the flying man and punching him square in the face. He quickly flipped his body over and flung Chaozu into the ground. As he descended into the ground, he harmed Chaozu with a swift kick to the torso, causing him to double over in pain.
Chaozu was a magnificent telekinetic and a fantastic Ki controller, but physical durability and strength were not his fortes. It was not helpful that many of his Ki reserves were used up due to his killing spree moments earlier, as in his gore-fest he had released extraneous amounts of Ki. The fight was now simply unfair.
“Hey, that was a cheap shot! Not fair!” Chaozu screamed with his typical childish nature.
“All is fair in love and war, kid. The sooner you learn that, the sooner you will have a chance at fighting me,” Jimac retorted, standing over Chaozu with glory.
“Now’s our chance. The Saiyan’s distracted. Pounce while the iron is hot,” Kordar whispered to Nuzeel, a knife firmly held between his teeth. Nuzeel silently complied, and the two went running toward Chaozu and Jimac. Their speed was, as always, immense, reaching the two before Jimac could launch his next offensive attack on Chaozu.
Nuzeel launched after him, before smacking him across the cheek, knocking Jimac off of Chaozu. Kordar soon came tumbling after, dropping the knife out of his mouth and suavely grabbing it with his hand. He made a neat horizontal cut across Jimac’s chest, before slashing him in a series of hard to follow but nonetheless sophisticated movements that left his armor in shreds and blood profusely dripping from his chest.
“Who the hell were you, to think that you could mess with us?” Kordar cockily told him, as he began his final plunge of the knife into Jimac’s heart.
“My name is Jimac!” Jimac declared, before grabbing Kordar’s knife by the blade. “Deploy the artificial moon!” Upon this order, the top hatch of a great shuttle opened up, at which point a luminescent silver ball came out of the top. It rose high into the air, entrancing all the Saiyans who looked near it. Many of the half dead Saiyans left behind by Chaozu were recuperated by it, their hind legs suddenly functioning once more and hair extending out of every area of skin available. They began to grow in size dramatically, until a point where not a soul compared to them.
Their powers were increased 10 fold, until a point where Kordar, Nuzeel, and Chaozu would be useless in comparison to them, let alone the typical Bekk soldier. But Yamcha…his chances, although slight, were nevertheless existent. He was the most powerful person out there, on the Bekk side, but the great ape of Jimac and the General were even greater than that of his own. And not marginally, either.
The Great Apes began chucking humungous boulders at the Bekk soldiers, apparently not in control of this form. All for the better, regardless. If they were sentient, they would only be all the more destructive. The mountain-sized boulders were taking out the Bekk soldiers by hundreds at a time, and as such their armed forces were quickly depleting. Yamcha quickly shot out a Spirit Ball which he sent at all the incoming rocks. It collided with all of them, leading to a quick and painless obliteration. He then redirected his Spirit Ball at the apes themselves, hoping to take out the source rather than the byproducts of the root.
He was, all the while, bolting toward the Great Ape Jimac. He had dwarfed even Yamcha with his new transformation, and Yamcha was left with almost no hope of success in his desperate fight against the Saiyan. Kordar was shifting uncomfortably about him, using his speed to his advantage to escape Jimac, while Chaozu was thoroughly thrashed and laying on the ground unconscious and Nuzeel was dead. Yamcha neared Jimac and jumped into the air, and, with his arm extended toward Jamic as he soared, he hollered, “Wolf Fang Fist!”
Tien’s head was buried in his fists. Sweat ran down his face, his expression of irritation quickly growing. He mumbled to himself about his hatred for these people, his own race, who he had since disowned as his own. He offered his help, which was superior to what anyone else on the entire planet could offer, yet they turned it down, regarding him stupidly as scum. He punched the bench he sat upon with force, causing alarm for all who surrounded him.
And there it was. The drastic power increase he had so fully dreaded. All the remaining Saiyan energy signatures were multiplied by ten, signifying that they had underwent the transformation to Great Ape. He wasn’t entirely certain that he cared about his own race in the slightest; however, with that said, he couldn’t let his friends die. He needed to rescue Chaozu and Yamcha.
Tien jumped off the bench and began speedily flying in the direction of the battle, much to the awe of the surrounding townspeople.
The Son is Drowning in the Flood
Yamcha went soaring through the air, spiraling toward the Ape named Jimac. A silhouette of a wolf formed atop his body, its eyes a glaring red and its fur a black which would strike fear into the heart of any opponent. He was fast, very fast, his velocity increasing as he closed in upon his opposition. His power was magnificent; it was difficult to believe that such a high energy reading was coming from a measly human, and one who was far from the strongest of his race, at that. It was a true spectacle.
Jimac swatted him away with a swing of his hand. There was no joy in Bekk that night - mighty Yamcha had been knocked out.
Yamcha lacked one quality which made Jimac the victor in their brief fight: size. He was far the superior, and, so long as he remained bigger, Yamcha’s chances were nonexistent. It was not helpful that Yamcha was significantly weaker than Jimac, either. Coupled with the size disadvantage, any attack he made would be tilting at windmills. He was now listlessly lying upon the floor, unable to make any significant movements. He was but a cripple, unable to make an offensive move. And this was such a pity, too, because, were he to have the slightest bit of movement ability left, he could have easily jumped upwards and grasped the tail of Jimac, instantly crippling him. But instead Yamcha laid on the ground, as he was the cripple.
Yamcha received a quick kick to the side from the Saiyan Ape, which sent him flying across the battlefield. He landed on the alternate side, crumpled and distorted. His pain was quite intense, second only to when he was killed by the Saibaman, and even more intense than when he was killed quickly by Buu. However, despite all this, he was still alive, a luxury that not all would be able to say they had in just a few minutes.
It was precisely then, at the moment when all seemed lost and Kordar was just prancing about for the heck of it, that Tien burst onto the scene. He had begun coming to the area just moments before, but his speed was not just faster than a speeding bullet but far faster than a speeding bullet, as evidenced by the fact that he came upon the scene and blew corpses away with the wind that was pushed away from him as he rocketed through the cold air. He was not bird nor plane but instead Mr. Tien himself.
Going back to the recent bullet analogy, Tien spiraled through the air as though he were freshly fired from the barrel of a gun. And the location of this ammunition was quite clear; the chest of Jimac himself. Granted, Tien did not know whether or not Jimac was a malevolent being, but he could infer based upon the fact that Chaozu was laying comatose by his feet that he wasn’t exactly on their side.
Tien soon collided with Jimac’s chest and drilled a hole straight through his chest. As simply as that, Jimac was killed. What Chaozu, Yamcha, and Nuzeel had attempted and brutally failed at was easily done by Tien within seconds. Jimac keeled over and croaked out a few unintelligible syllables, which would eventually go down in Saiyan history as the ode to the great god of tail hair. “Urgle gurgle bleh!” the Saiyan children would say during their church hours, with their hands placed firmly on their hearts as they closed their eyes in prayer.
“Thricer? You can actually fight? What the hell?” Kordar asked in shock, as Tien descended to down beside Kordar. The very idea that a thricer could fight was a terra incognita to Kordar, and as such his shock was appropriate, even if prejudice.
“Yeah, I understand how foreign it might be to you that I can actually do what I said I could do,” Tien responded with a look of irritation, having finally landed upon the ground. “Look, do you know nothing about Saiyans?”
“Uh…they got tails, they’re real mean, and they’re real dumb,” Kordar ignorantly responded, finally admitting some incompetence in the field of war.
“Pfft. Look, they need a tail and a moon to transform into their Great Ape form. If you get rid of either of those, they go back to their original form.” Kordar was dumbfounded, not giving any type of reply. “I could take the last Ape out myself, but you apparently didn’t want any help from me. So, I’ll let you settle this yourself. Go cut off his tail, and perhaps from there you will be able to finish him off.”
Kordar was fast. That much was undeniable. He was much faster than the sole Great Ape Saiyan remaining, and, logically, could cut his tail off with his knife. He held his knife by the handle, as would any knife-wielder, and, in a disgruntled fashion, rushed at the remaining Saiyan. He leaped into the air when he came into the Ape’s immediate proximity, and, knife extended, sliced through the root of his tail. It was really quite similar to Yajirobe’s severing of Vegeta’s tail, except for the fact that his cutting device was significantly smaller than Yajirobe’s sword.
The knife was slathered in clean blood after it sliced through, giving the entire endeavor a more gratifying finish. The tail flopped about on the ground, while Kordar leaped through the air, air blowing through his hair. This was a great leap for the Bekk people; a leap of faith which provided hope. Outside of that, they had no chance, no possibility of success.
The Saiyan general reverted to his base form within a moment. His power was quickly decreased 10 fold, leaving him far less powerful but nevertheless a bit speedier. His power was now nigh equivalent to Kordar’s, rather than the immense upper hand it had moments prior. However, with that said, Kordar was far behind him, having flown far upon cutting off the Saiyan’s tail.
When Kordar landed, he was left nimble footed and with a large advantage; he knew precisely where the Saiyan was, but the Saiyan had no idea of his location. Better yet he was behind him, meaning that he could sneak up behind him and stab him. It would be the end of the whole fiasco; he could stab him and end this whole fiasco. He could return to his wife and his child, and he could live a happy life, void of war, Saiyans, and thricers.
Kordar’s wife had began hurting wildly. She was convulsing rampantly, her hands without anything to squeeze to relieve any pain. She was grasping at air, hoping for some relief as she gave birth all by her own, her husband away at war. She as utterly alone, living out these hours by herself, in excruciating pain and sadness. Kordar…he had impregnated her, and then left, without a trace, and so close to her due date, too. He probably hadn’t shed her a thought as he killed out there, being the cruel person he was.
It was a meaningless relationship, through and through. And it ended when she birthed that night.
Kordar crept up behind the mysterious Saiyan man, the point of his dagger facing the Saiyan’s back. “You fool? You think I can’t hear you back there?” The Saiyan said this, before taking a moment to chuckle. “Sneaky; that’s what I like about you. Hey, come on, join me!”
“No way! I’d have to be crazy. I’d just die like your last partner did!” Kordar responded, refusing to accept any such deals.
“Jimac died a noble warrior’s death. It was what he deserved,” the saiyan said, before pausing and continuing with, “He was a SAIYAN!” And with this matter of fact statement, the Saiyan’s hair turned a bright shade of yellow and his eyes transitioned to a light shade of teal.
King Cold: <VISIBLY YOUNGER THAN EVER SHOWN, HOLDING GLASS OF WINE> Join me on this fine day, and we can rule your planet. You can find me minerals, do my labor for me, while I provide you with technology and battle techniques you can naught but imagine.
King Legoom: I’d never join you. We Saiyans are proud; we will die to protect our own army! We will not falter, no matter how drastic the situation. We’ll fight to the bitter end!
King Cold: <MUMBLING ABSENTMINDEDLY> Who shall I give their planet to… Frieza or Nitro… hmm… <STARTLED BACK TO REALITY> What? But, Mr. Legoom, think of the benefits for the both of us.
King Legoom: I don’t care what tricks you use to confuse me. There is no way to change my decision here. We shall not give into you, no matter what happens!
King Cold: Zanyar, please come in here <MAN WALKS IN, BEARS STRIKING RESEMBLANCE TO ZARBON>. Would you mind, er, speaking to this man about his decision?
<LOUD SOUNDS OF VIOLENCE CAN BE HEARD; SHRIEK OF FEAR EMITTED; CLEARLY LEGOOM’S VOICE>
Tien recognized the new transformation of the Saiyan immediately; it was the incredible Super Saiyan form, one which Tien never saw coming despite the clear indications that it would come soon. They were at a battle, it was 1000 years in the past, all the little hints showed that it would happen; yet, somehow, he had never even so much as thought that it would come forth during this battle.
Now, with a power level multiplied by 50, Tien was quite a bit weaker than the Saiyan warrior. What was he thinking? He could’ve taken him out earlier and finished the entire war off, but instead he had to be an idiot and let Kordar take him on. Now, Kordar and he would both die, and there was little to nothing he could do about it, all because he felt the need to ridicule Kordar.
With a weak backhand swipe, the Saiyan sent Kordar flying. By the luck of the draw, Kordar landed next to Tien, and, with a wobble, he stood back up next to Tien. “You know anything about how to take one of these down, thricer?” Kordar asked, hoping for more pearls of wisdom.
Tien was forced into silence. He had searched for the answer himself for years, only to eventually come to the conclusion that there was no way to surpass the form. It was best to accept that you were weaker, rather than strive your entire life to reach the unachievable Eldorado. It was because of this that Tien had stopped seriously training, as he realized that he could never come close to Goku again. All efforts to do so would end fruitlessly.
“I… I have no idea,” Tien solemnly responded. This did not apparently deter Kordar, who raised his knife into the air once more and vocalized an impressive war cry.
“A Mullberry is a tree and I am a man. We all have to die when our time comes,” said Kordar, before rushing toward the Saiyan, “but if we do our duty then we don’t got regrets. So taste a little piece of my knife, you dirty ape!” concluded he, before making a desperate plunge of the knife toward the Saiyan’s heart. The Saiyan dodged this stab without challenge, and then thrust his hand through the center of Kordar’s chest. Blood splattered backwards, signifying the end of a Bekk named Kordar.
“I am not an ape; my name is Beeter!” the Saiyan yelled, his power surging without hesitation. His aura flared about, creating quite the impressive spectacle.
“C’mon, now, thricer,” uttered Kordar, his racial slur now holding a quality of nigh affection in it. “I did what I could, and now you gotta do whatchu can, and then… together… we might defeat… this Beeter… guy…” Kordar said, his voice fading near the end. These were his dying words. Upon the conclusion, Kordar’s eyes closed, and, near simultaneously, a little baby boy popped out of his wife. It was a faulty delivery, though, and his wife died with her husband, no matter how far apart they may have been.
It was not until Tien watched Kordar die that he noticed his small little intricacies. The peculiar gleam in his eyes, the pitch of his voice, how calm he had been up until that point, his fierce belligerence, his arrogance; it was all so familiar. This man, no matter how many differences they may have had, this man was Tien’s father. There was no refuting this.
Tien, upon this epiphany, was struck with a ferocious anger. He flung himself at Beeter, his fists moving at unimaginable speeds. The Saiyan nonetheless was able to block the vast majority of these blows, until a sharp kick to his stomach was delivered. The Saiyan doubled over in pain, giving Tien the leeway to land several powerful blows to his upper body, sending Beeter reeling backwards.
Tien stood away after this combination of hits. He had never felt this type of anger before; it was unique, and so enthralling. Not when Chaozu had died, nor when he was viciously destroyed by Goku in the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament. This was something unique, new and strong.
Had he become a Super Bekk? No, he hadn’t, that would be ridiculous.
Beeter stood up after a moment and dusted off his clothes. “Nice hits, Bekk. Got any other punches you’d like to throw? Come and hit me with your best shot, then,” Beeter boasted, smirking at Tien. He was the stronger of the two, and he knew it, too.
Tien flew at him headfirst, prepared to pummel him with a flurry of punches. As he grew near, Beeter blocked his first punch and countered it with a strong uppercut to Tien’s stomach. He then gracefully jumped into the air and kicked Tien into the ground, sending him skidding across the dirt. Dust clouds were stirred up that alerted people for humongous distances, showing the tremendous power of this new, or perhaps old, Super Saiyan.
Tien had one trick left; Ki. He could devastate with his energy, leaving him with more potential for fighting then could possibly be expected from a person without Ki. Could he win with this… could he? He threw a simple Ki ball at Beeter, who was entirely unprepared for the blast and as such was blown back a short distance.
“Tie - Tien, what’s going on?” hollered out the drowsy voice of Yamcha. He had just awoke from his unconscious slumber, and was as such completely unaware of the current predicament. However, to Tien, Yamcha’s awakening could not have been more timely. He knew of the exact purpose for the human, and, for the first time ever, understood why he had come here to begin with. This was his place of origin, and it was almost completely gone.
“Yamcha! - get out of here, as quickly as you can. Use Kordar’s tiger, if you must, but get back to Kordar’s house, somehow, and take the baby inside. There should be one. If there isn’t, you best find one before you leave. And then go back to the Guardian,” Tien paused to block a few blows from the bloodthirsty Beeter, only to continue with, “and I trust you to figure out what to do from there.”
Yamcha was already making his way towards Qaph, the tiger, prancing across the desolate battlefield filled with corpses. Yet, at the same time, Beeter was making his way towards the staggering Yamcha, which simply could not happen.
The Super Saiyan was moving towards Yamcha in a way which unheeded speed. He would surely kill Yamcha were he to get the chance. This could not happen. That was an unthinkable scenario. They all had their roles here, and Yamcha’s was not to die. As such, Tien needed to interfere with this murder, in whatever way that he could. He braced himself.
“Neo… Tri… Beam!” he hollered, unleashing a powerful blast which collided with Beeter and stopped him in his tracks. He powered forth another blast, stopping Beeter for even longer and allowing Yamcha to get away. He rode upon the tiger in confusion and in pride, but he felt dignified nonetheless, as he rode away, back to the town.
Beeter was pissed as hell. He dashed back to Tien before any of Tien’s three eyes could see him, and pounded him until his entire body was completely numb. He threw him off to the side, where he landed, in the middle of the battlefield, next to Chaozu. He threw another energy ball at Beeter just for the hell of it. This drove Beeter off the deep end, into a bitter, blind rage that felt no more logic.
He replicated what Tien had done, forming an energy ball in his hands, before thrusting it down onto the planet’s surface. It drove through the crust into the core, at which point the entire planet started to fall apart.
Mere minutes later, a bloody-faced King gave orders to a society of Saiyans to evacuate the planet using a group of highly-advanced space ships. They were none other than that of the Changeling empire. Yamcha himself exited the planet, reappearing outside of a circular ruin on a planet without life.
And Tien? This was the end of his life. It was fitting, it was, that he would melt away to the core of the planet with the one person he had always been with, Chaozu.
Say It Ain't So
Swept away by a bottle of Riunite
He had struggled with the most mighty
Death simply could not be eluded
And now his journey had been concluded
He had seen what so few else had
Enough to drive the common man mad
Deaths he had eternally witnessed
Graves upon which he had grimaced
He one day found his own race
Found himself to be a disgrace
One who needed to be burned
One who was not to be mourned
He slipped into his molten tomb
As he escaped his mother’s womb
Life had ended, life had began
Both came upon unknown land
Revenge came to the antagonist
Served cold, as the dish was best
His day to die was a good one
‘Twas his time; he knew of whom he was a son
He was still a failure, in everybody’s eyes
His dreams of success had been but lies
He was no Harry Potter nor no Captain Kirk
Just a failure without the slightest perk
The undeniable power of blond hair
The teal which couldn’t help but glare
Humility was all but lost
And such led to a dire cost
Upon a steed rode an injured man
Heading back to city land
Stopping by a humble home
And entering a humble abode
There lay a fresh baby and a carcass
The infant’s eyes filled with pureness
Would his eyes one day be darkened?
A darkness from which none could defend?
The crippled man took him to a salvaged ship
And through the final frontier they went
Until they found a soaring crane
And he was left by his door that day
A group of apes flew into space
Marveling at the entire chase
Their escape given by a wonderful benefactor
Ready to take their resources via tractor
The advancement of their race came from him
As did their inevitable end
A weak king quickly descending
His courage yet still pending
Friends: they would always be them
A thricer and a Jiang Shi; ain’t that somethin’?
Who was the mysterious Jiang Shi?
Perhaps a small man spawned from he
He; the one in control of the universe
No, that’s utterly preposterous
He clearly had no connection to the master of time
Anybody who disagrees is punishable by crime
Just a funny looking guy with makeup
That’s all he can be, all else is corrupt
If you care to differ
Then you may suffer
They had met at such a young age
And had parted at such an old stage
The eternal stage of death
They would share their final breath
As they sank into the fiery pits
And a small baby began to cry in fits
As a third optical sensor opened up
An older man felt something abrupt
His sole undeniable signature
Clamped down like the beak of a vulture
And yet he felt neither smarter nor stronger therewith
Was it possible that his father’s prejudice was myth?
And ‘twas a wonderful end to an adventurous life
Tien was dead.
A Few Brief Explanations
Below are a few brief explanations. Feel free to leave any questions you may have about the story. Thanks!
What are the power levels in this story?
Why are the Saiyans of this time so much stronger than the Saiyans in the Bardock special?
- The answer, my friend, is a somewhat scientific one. It’s a matter of evolution, a theory which I agree with, that works quite well here. As you would recall, all the warrior Saiyans were destroyed either by Yamcha, Tien, Chaozu, or the Original Super Saiyan himself. This led to the “strong” gene being removed from the gene pool, thus leading to future generations of Saiyans being weaker.
Why is Master Shen alive?
- Well, to be frank, I hadn’t considered this much before writing the story. However, in retrospect, I would have to say that either a.) Shenron spared him due to his early acts of justice against King Piccolo or b.) He had reformed somewhat after the 22nd World Martial Arts Tournament. If you have a superior explanation, feel free to leave it on the talk page.
At what point in time and to where did Yamcha take Tien?
- Yamcha took Tien back to the time before Dragon Ball. He took him to Master Shen’s training academy, so that Tien could be trained by him, meet Goku, etc. In this way, Tien’s life was kinda like a cycle, as it started in the future, went to the past, went back to the future, back to the past, etc.
Is there a theme for this story?
- Yes, the main theme for this story is The End of All Hope by Nightwish.
- This story shares many similarities with another Destructivedisk story, Special (Legacies Episode).
- All the chapter titles in the story come from the lyrics of the song Say It Ain't So by Weezer.
- Much of Bekk culture is inspired by Klingon culture. This includes naming patterns and several popular quotes.