Saiyan Saga
Author’s Note: For anyone who’s ever read any of my fanfics, I
apologize for not completing one thing at a time before moving on to
others. I can never seem to stay on one
topic at a time before another new idea pops into my head. Also, feedback and tips on improving my work
would be nice. Thanks and enjoy!
P.S. Some of the characters in this story have not yet been introduced in my
other series. And the Cerulean in this
particular story is 17.
--All of Frieza’s
warriors have been turned into babies!
Including Frieza himself! How can
Cerulean deal with this?
Baby Trouble-Part 1
By Queen Breeza
Nothing.
Not believing that there wasn’t
anything wrong going on in the ship, Cerulean continued down the hall until she
got to the elevator. Going inside, she
punched the top floor button and waited as the elevator slowly made its way
up. Suddenly it stalled for a moment, then continued on in its original pace. He’s got all that wealth, and he still won’t
use any of it to fix his little ragtag ship, thought Cerulean. Frieza, what am I going to do with you?
As Cerulean stepped out of the
elevator when it reached the top floor of Frieza’s corridor, she had to ask
herself that question yet again as she stared at a tiny look-alike Frieza who
was fiddling with his tail. When he saw
Cerulean, he reached out with his chibby arms
indicating that he wanted to be picked up.
Instead of picking him up, Cerulean decided to continue to other rooms,
hopefully finding someone who hadn’t regressed to baby days. However, Frieza began to whimper and pout as
she walked past him. Finally he could
take no more.
“WAAAAAAHHHHH!”
The baby’s cry was enough to shake
the entire ship, and as Cerulean looked back at him while trying to retain her
ground, she couldn’t help but see how precious her once formidable leader
looked. Frieza had stopped wailing, but
now tears were falling down his cute, delicate cheeks as he kept his arms
outstretched for Cerulean to grab.
“Okay, okay,” she said quietly. Why me?
She picked up the little tyrant, and he giggled in response. She didn’t hold him in a cradle position, and
she didn’t want to get jabbed in the neck by his pointy little horns if she
held him near her shoulders, so Cerulean picked him up quickly, ran down to the
next closed door with Frieza arm length in front of her, and set him down only
to see his pouty little face again.
“Hey, I’ll be back,” she assured
him. He of course didn’t understand her,
so he started crying again. Cerulean
sighed, picked Frieza back up, and opened the door to the room. Her first step in proved to be a complete
waste of time. The soldier in this room
was none other than Captain Ginyu.
Although not as cute as Frieza, he had a similar chibby
expression, tiny black horns, and his head didn’t show the usual stress veins
he always had as if he had more brains than skull. He was still asleep, and had put his thumb in
his mouth.
Cerulean closed the door and decided
to go back to the elevator to get to the bottom floor. All of this was getting on her nerves, and
she knew of only one person who could possibly figure this all out.
Hopefully,
though, he was still a teenager.
The bottom floor of Frieza’s ship
used to be nothing but a regular sewer drain with jumbo-sized sewer rats. But ever since a small group of
seven-year-olds became friends and reshaped that mess hall, the bottom level
would even impress Frieza, if he took the time to see it that is. The sewer draining was rerouted under the
floor with almost no pipes exposed to the outside.
Frieza had decided it was a good
time to go to sleep when Cerulean arrived at Golen’s
laboratory door. The door opened
automatically when it recognized Cerulean’s energy signature. Cerulean walked in quickly, and immediately
called out the mutant Saiyan.
“Over here,” a small baby-voice
called out from the other side of the lab.
“Crap, you too,
huh?” Cerulean sighed. She was at
least hoping her former boyfriend would still be close to maturity. Too bad.
“Yep,” the child was none other than
Golen. His
hair was gold instead of black, like it was when he was born. After all, he was born a Super Saiyan.
Cerulean gave him a strange
look. “How come you can talk?” she
asked.
“I was born a genius, remember? Oh, and before I forget, Vegeta’s over
there. He was the first to regress.” Golen pointed to a place on the floor where a pudgy baby in uniform lay asleep.
Cerulean’s eyes widened. “You mean YOU did this? On purpose?” It wasn’t like Golen
to make mistakes with his experiments.
“Well...yeah. But I didn’t do it on purpose. I can make mistakes too you know,” he
said. Golen
began staring down at his feet a bit bummed that his experiment went totally
wrong.
“Sorry. But you can do something about this, right?”
Cerulean was gesturing towards the baby Frieza in her hands. Her arms began to hurt for not cradling him
instead of holding him at a distance.
Golen
sensed this. “You can put him right
here, Cerulean.” Golen
brushed some items off the counter he was currently sitting on. Cerulean slowly lay the baby down, trying not
to wake him. Frieza stayed asleep and
began drooling.
“Eew,” Golen grimaced.
“Oh, shut up, you dork!” Cerulean
said with a little laugh. “NORMAL babies
drool, and NONE of THEM talk!” she teased.
“It’s not my fault they’re not as
intelligent as I am,” he smiled.
Cerulean noticed for the first time that Golen
had dimples, and they were very adorable on his chibby
cheeks.
Vegeta began waking up while turning
over on his stomach. He was very
confused, and this made him start crying.
Cerulean and Golen
looked at the crying warrior. “Should we
do something?” Golen asked.
“Nah, let crying brats cry,”
Cerulean replied. Nobody really liked
Vegeta.
“His crying IS beginning to annoy
me,” Golen said.
“Let’s throw a blanket over
him. He shouldn’t be smothered by that.”
Cerulean went to Golen’s
lab closet and got out a Rubber Ducky blanket.
“Golen,”
Cerulean teased, “something you wanna talk about?”
“No comment.” Golen
turned up his nose in a playful manner.
“Right.”
Cerulean threw the blanket over
Vegeta, and his cries became muffled.
She turned back to Golen.
“So...what are you going to do?” she
asked. She looked around for a place to
sit. Near Golen
she saw a loveseat. Nice.
“About what?”
Golen’s brain must have been too full to keep up with
one situation at a time. He was now
dissecting--what seemed to be--a miniature horse.
“About your
experiment, of course!”
“Oh. Right.
Brace your self: this could be a permanent change.”