Chapter 2; Annoying Brat
The silence stretched, thick with the unasked question and the weight of Vegeta's gaze. Raditz felt it, a cold, calculating pressure that had nothing to do with the vacuum of space. Vegeta wasn't offering an olive branch; he was twisting the knife, reminding Raditz of his place, of his prior dismissals of Kakarot's existence, and now, of this unexpected, unwanted burden.
"It's… a Saiyan," Raditz finally managed, his voice a strained rasp. He hated the weakness in his tone, but the truth was, his mind was a maelstrom. His mother. She had somehow sensed the coming doom, the colossal meteor that had torn through their solar system, ending everything and had sent Kakarot away, a tiny, fragile seed against the cosmic tempest. It was a final, desperate act of defiance he hadn't known she possessed, a mother's instinct overriding the Warrior King's decree. And now, that defiance had landed squarely in his lap. "A low-class, yes," he continued, forcing his voice to adopt a more detached, analytical tone, "but a Saiyan nonetheless. Our numbers… are drastically reduced." He glanced at Nappa, then Kado, their faces grim reflections of the same stark reality. "To simply… discard him… would be a further affront to our race. We need every warrior we can muster, Prince Vegeta, no matter how insignificant their starting power level."
Vegeta merely grunted, a sound that could mean anything from grudging acceptance to utter contempt. "A warrior, you say? That thing?" He gestured vaguely towards the tiny pod floating outside their viewport, a fleck of silver glinting in the distant starlight. "I've seen more potential in a common space slug. But fine. You wish to cling to sentimentality, Raditz? Very well. Bring the pod aboard. But understand this: it's your responsibility. And if it proves nothing but a drain on our resources, or a liability, I'll jettison it myself."
Nappa groaned. "Oh, joy. A crying, squalling low-class brat. Just what we needed after losing everything to that blasted meteor. First the planet gets smacked, then Frieza gives us this assignment, and now we're a daycare? My ears are still ringing from that infernal signal, and I guarantee that thing will only make it worse."
Kado, ever the practical one, chimed in, "We'll need to prepare a containment field, or at least a spare bunk. And some kind of sustenance. Though I suppose a low-class Saiyan infant wouldn't require much beyond a constant supply of… whatever infants consume." He looked pointedly at Raditz, whose face had gone a shade paler.
"Don't look at me!" Raditz spluttered. "I've never… I don't know the first thing about… infants! I'm a warrior! A conqueror!" His voice cracked slightly on the last word. The reality of his situation was setting in with a sickening lurch. He had envisioned himself returning to Planet Vegeta a hero, powerful and respected. Instead, he was now effectively a single parent to a baby brother he'd never met, snatched from the jaws of a cosmic catastrophe.
"Then you'll learn," Vegeta said, a smirk playing on his lips. "Consider it… character building. Or a test of your resourcefulness, Raditz. After all, if you can't even manage a mewling infant, what good are you against a true challenge?" He pressed a button on a control panel, and a metallic arm extended from their ship's hull, gently retracting the silver Attack Ball into a small bay.
A few moments later, a hydraulic hiss signified the bay door opening. Raditz steeled himself, stepping forward, Nappa and Kado hovering behind him with expressions ranging from morbid curiosity to outright alarm. Vegeta remained seated, observing the scene with detached amusement.
The pod's hatch slowly unsealed, revealing a small, swaddled figure curled up inside. For a moment, there was silence, a calm before the storm. Kakarot, barely more than a year old, stretched contentedly, his tiny fist instinctively moving towards his mouth. He looked utterly innocent, a stark contrast to the hardened Saiyans staring down at him.
Then, his eyes fluttered open. Dark, intelligent, and immediately annoyed. He took in the unfamiliar faces, the sterile metal surroundings, and the looming figures of his older brother and his comrades. His lower lip began to tremble, his small brow furrowing in an expression of pure, unadulterated displeasure.
"Oh, no," Nappa muttered, taking a step back. "Here we go."
Kakarot's face crumpled, and a piercing, ear-splitting wail erupted from his small lungs, echoing through the ship's quiet interior. It wasn't just a cry; it was a full-blown Saiyan battle-scream, amplified by the confines of the Attack Ball, conveying a level of indignation usually reserved for a Saiyan warrior denied a worthy fight.
"Gah! My ears again!" Nappa bellowed, clapping his hands over his bald head. "It's worse than the signal! And I can still taste the static!"
Kado winced. "Remarkable lung capacity for one so small. Perhaps a latent ability, but certainly not ideal for stealth missions."
Raditz, caught off guard, stumbled back, his long hair practically bristling. "What in the blazes is wrong with him?!" he demanded, completely at a loss. He looked at the screaming infant as if it were a hostile alien beast.
Kakarot, still screaming, thrashed within his swaddling. His little feet kicked out, striking the inner wall of the pod with surprising force. He pointed a chubby, accusatory finger at Raditz, his tiny face contorted in a furious grimace. It was as if he blamed Raditz personally for the discomfort of his new surroundings, or perhaps for the untimely destruction of his home planet by an unfortunate celestial event that had inconvenienced his nap.
"He's pointing at you, Raditz," Vegeta said, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Perhaps he senses your… overwhelming brotherly affection radiating off of you like a noxious gas."
"Affection? I'm ready to jettison him right now!" Raditz snapped, though he made no move to do so. He simply stared, bewildered, as Kakarot's wails intensified, a primal, indignant bellow that promised sleepless nights and endless irritation.
Suddenly, Kakarot let out a particularly furious shriek, then, with a surprising burst of strength, he managed to twist free of his swaddling. He immediately lunged, not at Raditz, but at the nearest, shiniest object he could see: Nappa's highly polished scouter.
"Hey! Get your grubby little hands off that!" Nappa yelled, too slow to react. Kakarot, with the speed of a tiny, enraged badger, snatched the scouter from Nappa's head, gripping it tightly. He held it up, examined it for a split second, then, with a satisfying CRACK, promptly bit into the fragile device, shattering the lens and sending a shower of sparks across Nappa's face.
Nappa stared, his mouth agape. "My scouter! You little demon! That thing cost a fortune in Frieza credits! I just calibrated it!"
Kakarot, having successfully demolished Nappa's scouter, seemed momentarily appeased by the destructive act. He gurgled, a triumphant, slightly rude sound for a baby, then spat out a piece of the shattered green lens, which ricocheted off Raditz's cheek.
Raditz blinked, a shard of plastic grazing his skin. He looked from the shattered scouter in Kakarot's hand to Nappa's apoplectic face. "He… he just… bit your scouter?"
"Yes! He did! The ungrateful, destructive little! Get back here!" Nappa sputtered, lunging clumsily for the infant who was now attempting to swallow the remaining earpiece.
Vegeta, however, had burst into outright laughter, a rare and unsettling sound that grated on everyone's nerves. "Hah! Perhaps there's a shred of Saiyan spirit in him after all! He certainly displays a lack of respect for authority, Nappa. And a penchant for property damage. Not quite the 'mewling infant' you expected, eh, Raditz?"
Raditz watched Kakarot, who looked up from his mangled prey and let out another indignant wail, as if demanding to be placed somewhere even more riotous and destructive. This was not the helpless, fragile infant he'd vaguely pictured. This was a miniature, screaming, property-destroying menace. He was already proving to be a colossal pain, and he hadn't even learned to walk yet.
"Fine," Raditz growled, pinching the bridge of his nose until his knuckles were white. "He's… mine. My responsibility. But he's not staying in the Attack Ball, and he's certainly not staying within biting distance of anything valuable. Kado, Okura, is there some sort of… crib? Or a reinforced cage? Something with unbreakable parts? Perhaps something specifically designed for aggressive, teething, low-class Saiyan infants?"
Kado cleared his throat, trying to suppress a smile. "I believe there's a spare storage locker in the lower deck, Raditz. It's blast-shielded, and we could perhaps… reconfigure it into a more… secure enclosure."
"Do it," Raditz ordered, then turned back to Kakarot, who immediately responded with another furious shriek, as if he'd understood every word and vehemently disagreed. Raditz sighed, a long, weary exhalation that belied his warrior persona. The universe was indeed vast and unforgiving. And now it included a tiny, rude, and incredibly annoying addition to their dwindling Saiyan ranks. This was going to be an exceptionally long journey, and it had just begun with a dental-based act of sabotage.
This was going to be an exceptionally long journey.
The newly designated 'Kakarot Containment Unit', formerly a blast-shielded storage locker, proved only marginally more effective than the Attack Ball. Kakarot, once installed, immediately began testing its structural integrity with a series of surprisingly powerful kicks and headbutts, all accompanied by a relentless stream of indignant wails. Kado and Okura had to reinforce the interior with a dense, plasteel lining, much to Nappa's grumbling about wasted resources.
Vegeta, however, had already moved on. He watched the chaos with a sardonic glint in his eyes, then turned to the main console. "This is pointless," he declared, his voice cutting through Kakarot's distant cries. "Planet Vegeta is gone. Our mission parameters are null. Continuing to scour the sector for whatever scraps Frieza ordered us to find is a fool's errand when the orders themselves are likely obsolete."
Raditz, still nursing his grazed cheek and a monumental headache, looked up, surprised. "Then… what do we do, Prince Vegeta?"
"We return to Planet Frieza," Vegeta stated, his gaze fixed on the star charts. "We report the destruction of our homeworld, a grave loss of an entire warrior race, though Frieza will no doubt pretend to mourn it. We demand new assignments. And more importantly, we find out exactly what happened to Planet Vegeta. Frieza's movements have been… unusual. His forces were conveniently absent. I want answers."
Nappa crossed his arms. "Back to Frieza? Ugh. More polishing my armor and listening to that lizard drone on about galactic domination. And now we have this to contend with." He gestured vaguely downwards, in the direction of Kakarot's locker, from which a series of rhythmic thumps had begun.
"Indeed," Vegeta said, a dangerous edge in his voice. "And this 'nuisance' will accompany us. It will be Raditz's responsibility to ensure it doesn't embarrass us, or worse, destroy critical equipment. Consider it a… training exercise, Raditz. Control your brother, or I will."
The journey to Planet Frieza was, as predicted, a test of everyone's sanity. Kakarot, confined to his reinforced locker, seemed to possess an inexhaustible supply of energy and a growing repertoire of annoying behaviors. He quickly learned that banging on the plasteel walls produced satisfyingly loud noises, often timed to coincide with sensitive navigation maneuvers or Vegeta's rare moments of quiet contemplation.
"Stop that infernal racket!" Raditz would bellow, his patience wearing thinner than old armor plating. He'd stomp down to the lower deck, where Kakarot would greet him with a defiant grin, his tiny fists still pounding.
And then, Kakarot started to speak. His first coherent word, uttered after a particularly frustrating attempt by Raditz to get him to stop trying to lick the ship's wiring, was "No!" It was a guttural, forceful declaration, accompanied by a firm shake of his head.
Raditz stared, dumbfounded. "No?"
"No!" Kakarot repeated, pointing to the wiring. Then, to Raditz's leg. "No! Mine!"
"It's not 'mine,' you little monster! It's the ship's! And you can't say 'no' to everything!"
"No!" Kakarot insisted, dissolving into a fresh fit of giggles.
From then on, "No!" became Kakarot's favorite word, used liberally and often inappropriately. When Nappa tried to give him a piece of spare power converter as a chew toy (a desperate attempt to appease him), Kakarot shrieked "No!" and hurled it back, nearly hitting Kado. When Raditz attempted to teach him the names of constellations, Kakarot would point at a star and declare, "No! Punch!" then wind up his tiny fist.
"He's developing a vocabulary of exactly two words: 'No!' and 'Mine!'" Nappa complained to Vegeta one cycle, rubbing his temples. "And he says 'No!' to everything that isn't 'Mine!' I swear, he tried to bite my boot just because I was standing too close to it."
Vegeta merely grunted. "Perhaps it's an efficient Saiyan dialect. Less wasted breath. He'll learn more when he's old enough to understand combat commands."
Okura, ever the observer, made notes. "He consistently associates high-energy activities with vocalizations. 'Punch' when striking, 'More' when hungry or wanting attention. His learning rate is… accelerated for his age, though his application is admittedly disruptive."
One standard cycle before their projected arrival at Planet Frieza, Raditz was attempting to coax Kakarot into eating a bland, nutrient paste, a task that usually ended with more paste on Raditz's face than in Kakarot's mouth.
"Just one more bite, Kakarot," Raditz pleaded, holding up the spoon. "You need your energy. We're almost there."
Kakarot eyed the paste with suspicion. "No!" he declared, batting the spoon away. He then pointed to Raditz's long, flowing hair. "Hair!"
Raditz blinked. "Yes, it's hair. So?"
Kakarot's eyes lit up. He grabbed a handful of Raditz's hair, tugging with surprising strength. "Mine!" he demanded, then, with a mischievous grin, added, "Pull!"
Raditz yelped, trying to disentangle himself. "Ow! That's not 'mine'! Let go! You little…!"
A low, rumbling chuckle echoed from the ship's bridge. Vegeta, who had been monitoring the distant, shimmering green-blue orb of Planet Frieza, had heard the exchange through the comms. "He certainly learns quickly, Raditz," Vegeta drawled, a smirk audible in his voice. "And he knows how to get attention. Perhaps he'll be useful after all… for annoying our enemies into submission, if nothing else."
Raditz finally managed to pry Kakarot's tiny, surprisingly strong fingers from his scalp. He glared at his brother, who was now giggling uncontrollably, pointing at Raditz's disheveled hair and repeating "Hair! Pull! Mine!" with gleeful abandon.
"This is going to be a diplomatic nightmare," Raditz muttered, rubbing his sore head. "Frieza will take one look at him and demand we jettison him into a black hole."
"Then ensure he behaves," Vegeta's voice cut in, sharper now. "We are nearing Planet Frieza. Prepare for docking. And Raditz… try to keep your brother from biting Frieza's tail. It might be… counterproductive to our pleas for new assignments."
Raditz could only sigh. He looked at Kakarot, who was now triumphantly holding a small, stray piece of his hair, proudly declaring, "Mine!" It was a long shot, but maybe, just maybe, Frieza wouldn't notice the small, loud, and increasingly destructive Saiyan child they were bringing onto his pristine homeworld. A very, very long shot.