But before I get into things, I need to state two things; first, I upped Peparia's age to 50, not 40, which means she's in her late 40s when she has her son. Which, for a Saiyan, is not unreasonable for her to give birth for a second time; Saiyans age much slower than we do, as stated by Vegeta near the end of the series, and illustrated by Goku throughout. I mean, look at how long it took Goku to truly reach maturity; he was well into his 20s before he had the current look he has now. And that's not even mentioning how Vegeta gained a full head in height by the end of the series.
Also, with only 10 years between Peparia and Rutin, that would have made Peparia VERY young when she had Celes; 13, to be exact. Humans, while reproductively capable at that age, girls are not old enough to be able to carry a baby to term and remain healthy during and after. And if we judge Goku's development as any indication of Saiyan development, neither would a Saiyan. At 23, however, while a Saiyan will still have a few years more to grow and develop, Peparia would be perfectly old enough to carry a baby to term.
Secondly, this is LONG. A four page word document. So, go in to this post knowing you'll be scrolling through a LOT.
The fight between Peparia and Goku was amazing, Charri
thought, as it winded down. These two
people are what she thought Saiyans should
be like, instead of what the Earthborn descendants of Goku and Vegeta were
becoming; yes, Saiyans weren’t the violent brutes that Vegeta grew up around,
but neither were they like Goku anymore, either. They’d lost their pride, and were nothing
more than Earthlings with more potential power than the humans did. Hell, Charri herself was the first Super
Saiyan in the years since Goku and Vegeta had died!
She approached Peparia as Goku returned to the Kaioshin of
Time to return to his home, and smiled slightly as she spoke up. “That was one hell of a fight,” Charri said.
Peparia, who had been breathing heavy after the battle,
returned herself to full measure, and grinned.
“Yes, Kakarot is the epitome of what my people were trying to be before
we were destroyed,” she said, placing her communicator, which looked like a Scouter
to Charri, back on her ear. “Strong but
never looking for a fight, only taking them as they come along. And he prefers to leave foes alive when he
can, but never hesitates to kill when necessary.”
“Too bad his kids don’t take after him as much as they
could,” Charri said sadly. “Gohan and Goten
turned out useless as they got older.”
“There have always been Saiyans like Gohan,” Peparia
said. “Kind hearted souls like him are
more suited to keeping history or researching technology. The only thing that I look down on him for is
not keeping up with his training.
Everyone was expected to be able to fight on Sadala, whether they chose
to or not.
As for Goten, I agree with you. He took the frivolous lifestyle of an
Earthling after Buu was defeated, no matter what timeline I look at.” Peparia’s
brow furrowed slightly. “Forgive my
rudeness, but I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Charri said, extending her hand. “Son Charri.
Goten’s my great-grandpa.”
“I see,” Peparia said, smiling as she took the younger
woman’s hand. “That’s why you took an
interest in my fight with Kakarot.”
“That, and not many Saiyans of my generation CAN go Super
Saiyan,” Charri said. “It’s exciting to
see other Super Saiyans around, and especially to see the legends of the past.”
“In my day, the ability to transform into a Super Saiyan was
a mark of tragedy,” Peparia said, her voice drooping slightly. “Either that you experienced great rage, or
extreme grief.”
“Which one was yours?” Charri blurted out, immediately
regretting her words.
Peparia looked directly at Charri, a frown on her face, her
eyes holding great sadness at the very memory of her transformation.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” Charri said, covering her mouth out of
shock and horror.
“It’s fine,” Peparia said, a sad smile creeping up her face.
“It was a long time ago.”
“Just because 300 years has passed between the event and now
doesn’t mean…” Charri responded, but was cut off by Peparia.
“300 years for you, yes. But 25 have passed for me,” Peparia
said. “I was a member of House Dakkon,
one of the noble houses on Sadala. All
noble houses had a duty to the people; it was how our founder became a noble in the first place.”
“What was yours?” Charri asked.
“House Dakkon’s role was to teach young Saiyans to
completely and utterly dominate the Oozaru form,” Peparia said. “The Oozaru form is extremely dangerous to
everything and everyone around you, as your history shows with Kakarot and
Gohan. However, Dakkon, the first of my
house, learned to beat the beast within us into submission, and was the first
to be able to look at the full moon and not transform. He began teaching other Saiyans this, and at
that point, we were no longer restricted by the phases of the moon.”
“Yeah, I can see how that would be important,” Charri
said. “An entire planet of Oozarus would
really not be able to build any kind of future.”
“Yes. Dakkon made our civilization possible,” Peparia
said. “We were actually one of the most
powerful houses due to this responsibility, and that duty was drilled into us
since birth.”
“So, what happened to you?” Charri asked.
“I was an up and coming member of the house when I was
young,” Peparia said, a slight amount of pride in her voice. “I had mastered
the Oozaru form in record time, and even had some modicum of control over it,
though not to the extent that Vegeta had when he attacked your planet; I could
recognize people and take command of others, but unlike Vegeta, I did not have
the place of mind to speak and strategize.
So that is why I was chosen to help end an inter-house conflict.
You see, there was always political troubles between the
houses, as all were trying to get in the best possible position in our
government. But due to our importance,
none of the other houses would declare outright war on us, because we were the
only ones with the secrets of mastering the Oozaru form, for fear of us
refusing to train their children. Yes,
others had tried to learn these techniques, but we had secret techniques that
could only be taught while the student was IN the Oozaru form, so no one
outside my family actually knew what was done to finalize the training. But this house figured out how to handle
their private vendetta against us; through financial means, social means, and
when they could get away with it, one on one duels between one of their members
and one of ours.”
“So, how did the conflict end?” Charri said. She did find the information on the society
of the Ancient Saiyans to be interesting, but she wasn’t sure where this story
was going yet.
“The heads my house and the house we were in conflict with
decided that the best way to end it was a breeding alliance; I was an up and
coming member of my house and I was due to start training young Saiyans myself,
and the other house had another member of his house that was poised for
greatness as well, so we were selected to unite the lines with blood. Luckily for us, we got along, and found each
other attractive, so having a child together was not a problem.
Once Celes was born, it was decided by both houses that she
would stay with me until she was a trained fighter and had mastered the Oozaru
form,” Peparia said. “Once she had
mastered the physical, she would stay with her father’s clan and learn their
ways. From there, it was expected that
she would grow and form her own house and unite all three. Her father and I were to remain deeply
involved in her life until she was grown.
And for a while, it worked.
Peparia’s face drooped slightly. “But one night, the night of a full moon,
everything changed. A child that I was
supposed to have trained transformed into an Oozaru and started terrorizing the
city. And even though it was the job of
the full moon patrol to handle this, the child was my student, so I felt responsible for what was happening, because I
hadn’t done my job. I mean, yes, I did
my job, but I didn’t really do my job, if
that makes any sense.”
“More than you know,” Charri said, compassion oozing in her
words, finally realizing where Peparia was going.
“I tried to reason with Rutin, but because I hadn’t gotten
to know him like I should have, I didn’t get through. So I had to fight him. And I was not prepared to face an Oozaru,
because I lacked a full moon patroller’s special training,” Peparia said,
practically choking on her words. “But
Celes, my little girl, my joy, had followed me and wanted to help me. But she was no more prepared to face and
Oozaru than I was; less, in fact, because she was NOT trained to fight. So she was swatted aside by Rutin and…” Tears
rolled down Peparia’s eyes as she recounted the next few moments. “He began
stomping her. Over and over again. So I did the only thing I could think of to
save my daughter; I cut off Rutin’s tail.
And when he transformed back, I called the full moon patrol, told them
of his location, and then rushed my daughter to the hospital.”
“Oh jeez,” Charri said, placing her hand gently on Peparia’s
shoulder in a show of sympathy.
“The doctors could not help her,” Peparia said, wiping the
tears from her eyes. “Her internal
organs had been crushed so badly that they’d never work correctly again. She was dying, and all I could do was watch
and hold her as she died. My
four-year-old little girl, my joy, had died.
And when she did, I was so overwhelmed with grief, with guilt, with so
much rage at myself that I transformed into a Super Saiyan.”
“I am so sorry for making you relive that,” Charri said, not
knowing what to do or what to say. This
strong warrior that defeated Demigra and saved time itself was now so sad, so
vulnerable.
“I was put on trial a few days later,” Peparia
continued. “I was Rutin’s teacher, and
the fact that he was of age to be able to control that form, to at least be
able to not rampage while transformed, was my failure. Because I hadn’t gotten to know him, I was
responsible for his failure at control.
I had been focused on Celes, on the fame that I got from having her that
I wasn’t concentrating on my duties to my people.
I offered no defense at my trial, and was willing to accept
my punishment, to accept the death that they would certainly sentence me
with. Because not only had I not done my
job with Rutin, but I had cut off his tail.
And that was considered a mark of shame among my people; it meant that
you were not trusted to control yourself under the full moon, and that measure
was only to be taken after great deliberation between the teacher, the
student’s family and the city’s officials.
The fact that I did it to save my daughter was immaterial; I overstepped
my authority and shamed Rutin.
There were two things on my side though. First, Rutin was
still young enough to regrow his tail.
Second was my advocate; it was Celes’ uncle on her father’s side. He knew that having her die in my arms
destroyed me, but he also knew that I still had potential. And he knew about my
transformation. Which, along with
Rutin’s age, was his defense for me; he had me transform in the courtroom,
though, since I had no training on how to transform at will, he forced me to
relive Celes’ death, which was much harder on me then than it is now. He brought up my guilt, and using the
doctor’s report, accurately described what Celes was feeling as she died. And, once again, I transformed.
The judges knew right then and there that whatever
punishment the state could dish out would pale in comparison to what I had
already been through. So they did the
only thing that they could do; they made me go see the hermit that taught how
to master the Super Saiyan transformation.
I was also taken off my family’s training schedule and put on the full
moon patrol, since I had more than enough power to take on an Oozaru now.”
“I am so sorry,” Charri said, unable to think of anything
else to say.
“The story isn’t all bad.
After I had finished my training, first at mastering my transformation
and then finishing the training needed to become a member of the moon patrol,
my father, Rutin’s mother, and even Rutin himself asked the state if I could
finish his training. His mother said
that, while she hadn’t forgiven me for cutting off his tail, this was the best
way to make up for it. My father said
that this would help regain my status as a member of House Dakkon in good
standing, and Rutin himself felt just as guilty about Celes’ death as I did,
and wanted to make sure this never happened again.
Our training was monitored, of course. My father and a member of the moon patrol
were on hand while I taught him, though only the moments when my house’s
proprietary techniques were used was the moon patroller not around. But I finished Rutin’s training; by the time
his tail regrew a year later, he was more than prepared for his next full moon
with his tail. But I didn’t just pass
him off, as I was supposed to do; I moved on to the next state of training, and
then the next and so on until he finally had the Oozaru form under his thumb,”
Peparia said, a slight smile creeping up her face.
“Well, at least some good came out of the situation,” Charri
said, nonchalantly.
“There’s more,” Peparia said, smiling. “We spent many years together; training
begins at 6, and ends at 14. House
Dakkon’s teachers were meant to only train a certain age group, and I was
supposed to train the 6-9 year olds. I
trained Rutin from age 7 to the completion of his training at 14. So we got very close during that time. I even trained him how to fight the way House
Dakkon fights, which was far more extensive than his peasant upbringing would
give him, so we got very close. He even joined the full moon patrol at the age
of 18, when he had finally come of age, after doing something that no Saiyan
had done in a century; he completely mastered the Oozaru form, to where he
could think and talk and strategize. That made him a very potent ally to the full
moon patrol; he was able match a rampaging Oozaru in both strength and size,
but he had the peace of mind to actually fight them and subdue them without
hurting them, or the landscape. Combine
that with a Super Saiyan as his partner, and we were very effective at our
jobs.
And by that point, we had both realized that we had fallen
in love. Which was incredibly unusual
for us; as a warrior race where every member is expected to fight, courtship
emotions aren’t normally maintained due to the fact that we all know we could
die in combat at any time. We usually
just look for a mate with traits that were worthy of passing on, or through
breeding alliances between houses. We
rarely bonded based on an emotional connection, but after so much time and so
much bonding we had done over the years, we couldn’t help it.”
“Wait, what about hour husband?” Charri asked. “You know, Celes’ father?”
Peparia chuckled.
“Celes’ father and I were not bondmates. Were it not for the importance
of Celes to our houses’ peace agreement, we likely wouldn’t have seen each
other again outside coincidence or circumstance. But Celes was important to our families, so
it was both of our responsibilities to raise her, despite how unusual it was. Usually it was the mother’s job to raise the
children due to maternal instincts, and the father’s job to teach the child how
to be a warrior after the Oozaru training was complete. But our houses wanted Celes to be loyal to
both houses, and parental influence from both of us from day one was the best
way to handle it.
However, by the time Rutin was 20, I was no longer an up and
coming member of House Dakkon; I was the longest running teacher that House
Dakkon had and a powerful member of the full moon patrol at best and a
cautionary tale about responsibility at worst.
So Rutin and I went through the unusual ceremony to signify to the world
that we had chosen to become bondmates, that chose to ‘marry’ in your terms,
and we had a son several years later. In
that time, Rutin was adopted into House Dakkon, and worked with me in training
our youngest students, telling them his side of the story of Celes’ death, and
the importance expressing their doubts to their teachers, to ensure that they
could tailor the training to them.”
Charri was quiet for a few moments. This was a huge
revelation about the woman she admired so much.
“Unfortunately, his story ended as most on Sadala did; he,
like the majority of us, could not get on the escape ships. The most we could do was get our son Vegeta
onto an escape ship to ensure our people’s future. And we watched the escape ships, holding each
other while we floated in the sky, knowing we saved our race, prepared for the
star to consume us,” Peparia said.
“Well, until time froze for me and I was summoned by Shenron, but that’s
neither here nor there.”
There we go. I'll monitor the traffic for this post, as well as comments and likes, to see if there's interest in more stuff like this. But for now, stay beautiful freaks!
No comments:
Post a Comment