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Krafty Quill
May 10th, 2006, 06:48 AM
Disclaimer: I don’t own any Pokémon characters, related places or concepts. This story’s written for fun, so just read and enjoy.

Why Ash Is Ash
Fan Fiction By Krafty Quill

Prologue

“Well … at least that explains why you eat so much.”

The comment miserably failed to hit its mark. His heart still grew colder with each beat. Despite their desperate attempts, each pair of concerned eyes tending to his impaired soul shed more anxiety than it did offer comfort. It was almost as if his friends were more worried, frightened and angry than he was. As if it was them that had recently learnt who … or rather, what, their father was.

“Come on, Ash.” The words pushed through sorrow’s barrier in the hopes of installing the vast amount of courage the boy needed. Perhaps this solemn approach would work better than her previous attempt to break the tension with humour. Misty could feel his hand embracing hers tighter, begging for her assistance in a matter far out of her reach. “You should go alone. That’s what he wants.”

“Trust him. He is your father.”

This coming from a woman that selflessly played the role of caring mother during his twelve years of existence. The fact that he wasn’t of her flesh, or that some feeble clause like matching DNA - or matching species for that matter - wasn’t satisfied, did nothing to alter the love she showed him … the home she shared … the secrecy she reserved his sanity with…

Regardless of the outcome of this event, she’d remain standing proud, in first place, on the pendulum. Best mother in the world … or, worlds…

So confusing.

Worse, he didn’t even know what he was. All questions and uncertainty ruthlessly thrown aside by the governing hands of time, he had to be ready for the next step. With a smile from May, nods from Brock and Max, a hug from Misty, a pat from Pikachu, a tear from mom…

Ash was ready. Ready to be born again, ready to accept his destiny, ready to learn the reason behind Ash, ready.

Or so he thought…

0-0-0-0-0

Author’s Notes

How was that? Just a little idea I had for another story. Still unsure if I should write it or not. Maybe I will after I’m done with The Target, The Victim, The Saviour. But what do you guys think? Wanna hear more?

Krafty Quill
May 18th, 2006, 09:11 AM
Chapter I
More Than One War

Screams and death cries ruptured through the air. Huge balls of flames exploded as bombs crashed on the earth, their booming sentence crackling heavily in the fighters’ ears. Alien figures dashed through a fountain of black fumes, laser guns grasped dearly in their three pronged fingers. The four-foot creatures pushed forward, their heavy white boots marching boldly towards the enemy forces. These pink scaly-skinned beings, that wore white heavy body armour and open-face helmets with black horns protruding from their scalp in a v-shape form, were known throughout most of the universe as the Froshia.

“Pull back!” The Froshian soldier ordered his men the second he caught sight of an enemy troop. At once, the Froshian attack forces dived for safety behind a large, jagged piece of rock. The enemy soldier, an astounding ten story tall ape, beat wildly on its brown furry chest, yellow rectangular eyes not catching the speedy Froshia that took refuge behind a rock not too far away.

“Alright,” the Froshian Captain addressed his soldiers. His men pressed their backs against the stone and held their guns or rifles close to heart, trying to ignore the purple and blue zaps that raced through the sky. Any stray blast could result in their certain deaths. “Stryde.” He found the only soldier amongst them wielding a sword.

“Sir!”

“A single guard stands between us and the main enemy base. I congratulate you all on fighting a good battle but we will not celebrate until the war is over. In honour of all our fallen soldiers, we will be victorious. Once we take out that guard, we can infiltrate the enemy’s main stronghold. On my go, Stryde will swoop around the Oozaru sentry and strip it of its power.”

Confusion lurked upon the soldiers’ faces. Murmurs began to travel amongst them until a brave soldier addressed the general. “But sir, that Oozaru could clean us up with a single wave of its Ki Blast! I mean, the second it spots Stryde, not only will he be toast but we will all get deep fried like a bunch of potato chips.”

“I’m well aware of that, soldier, but if we sit around here like a bunch of couch potatoes we will get deep fried eventually anyway.” He didn’t gain his rank from his dashing good looks. He was a Froshian of action and knew when action needed to be taken. “Now, as you all know, we don’t stand a ghost of chance against that beast in its current form. The only way we’ll get passed it, is if we take away its power. Seeing as Stryde is the best equipped for that mission, I’ll assign it to him. The rest of us will have to make sure the Oozaru doesn’t detect his presence until he is successful.”

“You mean…” Dread lingered in the soldier’s words.

“Yes.” The Captain nodded. “We’ll provide a distraction.” Death moved in every Oozaru’s powerful Ki Blast but he had to believe their speed would be able to overcome it. Suddenly, a blue stream of energy crashed into a spot a little distance away, lifting clouds of brown soil when it hit the ground. The time was now or never. The Captain nodded to Stryde and then ordered his other men to move out with a shrug of his head.

The Oozaru standing guard stopped beating its chest when it noticed that several tiny, pink humanoid creatures had zipped up from behind a rock. They flew in all sorts of confusing patterns and fired thin blue beams from their guns at its enormous body. Of course their measly attacks felt nothing harsher than taps on his furry chest but the pink trails that followed their speedy bodies twisted and twirled in the air too much for his primate eyes’ comfort.

With a loud roar, it clumsily swung an open, four-fingered hand across the air, hoping the sheer size of its hand would be enough to catch one of the pests. However, the sluggishness of the attack granted them more than enough escape time to ensure their safety. The Oozaru grew more annoyed as the Froshia circled its body and shot at it from different directions. Its ten metre long apelike arms scrambled tactlessly around in the air, making it seem like a bee-hounded victim attempting to chase away the irritating buzzes.

Even for a brain as slow as its, it eventually realised that its method of defence was doing nothing more than tiring out its own muscles. The Oozaru dropped its arms to its sides and began charging up Ki in its belly. The pink swats whizzing about realised what it was about to do and began flying off as far and fast away as possible in any direction.

The gigantic brown ape was ready. Sharp, drenched teeth separated as it opened its snout, making way for a cylindrical purple wave of energy to beam forward. The Ki Blast stretched out far ahead and with much speed. The Froshia, who had been kilometres away by now, were tailed closely by the blast’s curved head. Sweat dripped off one of the soldier’s pink faces as the purple beam finally caught up, absorbing its pink body whole with ease. Much like the Froshian itself, the thick armour wrapped around its chest shattered like breaking glass, shards of body and armour shooting everywhere with drops of dark blue blood following.

At least five more Froshia were disintegrated when the Oozaru slowly moved its head left then right to improve the Ki Blast’s range. Beneath its working snout, a sinister sneer rumbled in its throat when, suddenly, it felt a slight tinge in its tail. The wide, cylindrical Ki Blast began thinning out, bit by bit, until it had completely dissolved away. The ape’s yellow eyes trembled as it watched its hands slowly shrink with the rest of its body. Soon, the furry brown fur that coated its body seeped back into its skin. Its yellow eyes were loosing their confident gleams and its huge muscles decreased in capacity until all that was left was a seemingly normal human being - a naked man.

The beast-turned-‘human’ immediately reached for its tail but found only half of its length protruded from its behind. Blood squirted from where the tail had been cut. Turning to his side, his fearful eyes found a Froshian soldier standing with a red dripping blade gripped in its hands. He knew his death rested in the long silver steel of the enemy.

“Anything to say, monkey?” Stryde said with a voice reeking of arrogance and distaste of the beast that took a handful of his kinds’ lives.

No sooner had the former ape lifted a finger to the defiant Froshian than had it been sliced off mercilessly. Stryde saved him the worry of having to do chores with one less finger by running his sharp blade swiftly through his throat. Fountains of blood squirted from its open neck before its body collapsed helplessly to the ground. With a flash of his eyes, Stryde had his blade repel every drop of blood staining its steel. He put the clean sword back in the case attached to his waist before a smaller gang of Froshia touched ground beside him.

“That was great!”

“How do you do that?”

“How’d you get so good?”

“Stryde! Stryde! Stryde!”

“Silence!” All the exited Froshia’s uproars were shot dead as the General made his way through the small crowd. “Look around you. Our numbers have decreased significantly. We have lost troops, friends. With all due respect to Stryde, you did a good job soldier, we must not allow ourselves the comfort of victory when it still hangs in the balance. One mistake, one underestimation is all the enemy needs to swing the momentum back to their side. Frankly, we can’t afford that.”

“But Captain Dibben, we just thought –”

“It’s okay.” Stryde hushed the soldier before he ended up being de-ranked for interfering with the Captain’s orders. “General Dibben is right. We must not delude ourselves now. We haven’t won yet.”

Dibben nodded to Stryde. Stryde saluted in return and so did all the remaining Froshia. Celebration set aside, they all set their eyes on the tower in front of them with determined will.

ooOOoo

“Sir, it seems the Froshian forces have managed to take down Grudden.”

The ‘man’ listened with untroubled ears as one of his Generals recited the happenings of more than five hundred feet below. Dark eyes looked through the glass of the sphere shaped office, surveying the damage done to the planet by the pesky Froshia. Thankfully, the battleground had been clear of any important business buildings, saving various restoration committees from what would have been tons of work.

Black smoke, from even their first assault, plagued the mountain terrain, thickening the sky with clouds of toxic fume. He grunted, unimpressed, with his arms folded across his chest. A long white cape, clipped to his strong shoulders, hung a little above his white-booted heels. His jet-black hair, naturally standing inches tall with sharp tips pointing to the ceiling, remained unmoved as he turned to the face the General.

“Let them come.”

The green skinned General stroked away long, strands of azure hair from his eyes. He was all-too-familiar with the King’s tone. “Would you like me to take care of them, sir?”

Before the King could spew any response, the backdoor abruptly slid open, letting through a pink chubby creature with spikes poking out from his pumpkin-shaped head and all along his larger forearms and fists. He saluted the King before taking to his dark eyes. “Sir, our radars have just picked up an object attempting to evacuate the planet.”

“Heh, is that all Dodoria?” The King said, feeling the news didn’t do the messenger’s worried face any justice. “Cowards. It’s just like the Froshia to turn and run from the fate coming to them. Take it down.”

“Sir, it’s not a Froshian ship.”

“What?”

“It’s one of our own.”

The King couldn’t think of any reason any of his troops would leave the planet right in the heat of battle. Not that the current situation couldn’t be stabilised without their assistance but no one was permitted to leave the planet unless specifically dispatched by the King himself. “Who’s flying that ship?”

“Sir … it’s your son.”

“Ashura.” The King wasn’t half surprised. The boy had been causing mayhem since the day his Earthly feet touched the planet’s soil. The boy was undoubtedly his.

“Sir, King Vegeta, what plan of action should we execute?”

Vegeta turned around. The answer was simple. “Perhaps, you didn’t hear me earlier, Dodoria. I said take it down.”

“Sir?”

Vegeta grumbled impatiently.

“Sir!” Dodoria saluted before rushing out of the office at once.

The General gave the King a side glance. “Heh, that’s one smart son you’ve got there. Not very brave though. Leaving in the midst of something as chaotic as war would have almost certainly meant the success of his escape. Unfortunately for him, no Froshian ships have entered our skies since the first wave of soldiers, which means there are no other ships our radars could’ve misidentified him as. A miscalculation on his part.”

“Maybe if you’d let him go back to Earth, just once, he wouldn’t be so hell-bent on breaking your rules.” The voice came from a young man sitting behind a panel of buttons. His purple hair fell just below his jaw save the long, tied ponytail that extended down his neck. After putting down his headphones, the chair creaked as he swung to face the King and the General.

“I know what you think you did was right, father.” His eyes shamefully steered clear of the King’s. “But twelve years is enough to blend even the shiest heart with its surroundings. Whether for survival, or for love, he couldn’t help but get attached to the planet he once believed was his.”

“Humph,” Vegeta disagreed with a grunt. “If anything, he should be thanking me. Earth is no place for a Saijan to be dwelling. He failed his purpose. Conquering that greedy, wealth-driven and disgustingly weak planet should’ve been child’s play for the son of Planet Vegeta’s great King. Heh, there was no reason for him to waste all our time anymore. I did him a favour by bringing him back home.”

“But…” The boy spat out before he could remind himself who he was talking to. He could feel the anger punching up to the surface of his skin, fighting to come out and inform the King of his dysfunctional fatherliness. “Of course he failed! He was never briefed! And what you did was nothing to be proud of! You didn’t bring him home, you abducted him! And you won’t even tell him –”

He was silenced by the swat of hot fingers across his face. Recovering, his eyes traced the long, blue boots that climbed halfway up buried, green knees. White armour, chipped with gold triangles pointing from each shoulder, was fixed around a mildly built chest. Thin blue lips curved satisfactorily on the pale face, not knowing of the anger building behind the boy’s purple eyes everyday.

“Where are your manners, boy?” The green General scolded. “Not even family members are exempted from giving the King his due respect.”

Family was family and General Zarbon had no business interfering with their matters. The young man’s hand grew tired of rubbing his stinging cheek, and dared slither to the hilt of the blade just below the back of his neck. Timing, setting and the sudden VWOOP of the sliding door, saved the General from his wrath.

The three heads turned to the new visitor - or rather intruder. A busty feminine figure stood defiantly at the door, hard-pressed fists against her waist. The red sleeveless skirt shied away from as much toned thigh as possible, moving as one with her approaching legs. General Zarbon’s boyish face was met with fierce blue eyes shining the same light tone as her short hair. She raised her eyebrows at him and grunted once before aiming her death stare at the much shorter King.

“Ah, Bulma. It’s always a pleasure,” Zarbon persisted, an untrusting half-smile creeping on his face.

“Well aren’t you brave these days?” She asked him rhetorically. That comment had gotten him a suspicious side glance from Vegeta that exterminated the cheerfulness filling his face. Having put him in his place, Bulma turned to Vegeta once again and he came to meet her eyes too. Silence began to pollute the air until one of them yielded.

“Well, what do you want?” Vegeta finally spoke up.

Bulma still didn’t give him an answer, and wasn’t planning to either – not with her mouth anyway. Vegeta suddenly found himself defending his head from a flurry of berserk slaps. Shamefully, neither of the onlookers dared to interfere.

“What do you think you’re doing giving an order like that?” Bulma shouted, still throwing her hands at his guarding forearms. “Are you trying to kill my son? You better tell those hounds of yours to cancel their plans or else I’m going to cancel you out! Are you listening to me, Vegeta? Tell them to stop, NOW!”

“Argh! Get off me, woman! Son of a Namek, what’s wrong with you? He’s not even your real son!”

Bulma gasped at the horror; and Vegeta soon learnt the error of his ways when her slaps got harder. “For nine years, I loved the boy and the cared for him! I packed his lunch, I helped him with his homework, I tucked him into bed! I made him a big part of my life! If that doesn’t make me his mother than I don’t know what does!”

“Argh! Trunks!” Vegeta ordered the young man sitting nearby. “Take your mother away!”

The purple haired man stood with shaky will, unsure which parent’s punishment for disobedience would be harsher. As it did most of the time, his mind followed the order of the King.

“Hey, let go of me young man!” Bulma complained as Trunks easily tossed her over his shoulder. “If you don’t put me down now, you’re grounded for a month!” But the boy wasn’t listening, his back ignoring the fists beating against it. The threats grew stricter and the pounding harder until silence was finally returned to the room by her absence.

Zarbon noticed Vegeta’s head withdraw from the shelter of his arms. “You know what they say, sir. Behind every strong Saijan is a strong woman.”

“Heh, more like crazy woman.”

His honour for the King would’ve dwindled by the event if Zarbon hadn’t witnessed it plenty before. Vegeta was only angry and evil-spirited to the outer universe. No one really knew the compassionate family figure he became behind closed doors - and the abuse he took from Bulma for such a choice. The crazed woman reminded the General of something.

“Perhaps we have miss-assigned our resources. I doubt the Froshian troops would have had the same success if your wife was standing guard instead of that measly giant ape.”

“True. Bulma can be quite the wild one.” Vegeta half-smiled. “But I know how to handle her.”

“I bet you do.” A mischievous grin took to the General’s lips.

“You know what else I know how to handle, Zarbon?”

“Sir?”

“Excited little boys with eyes straying where they shouldn’t.” Zarbon gulped from his answer. “Did you actually think I didn’t notice? If you have any desire to keep your life then you’ll keep your eyes to yourself. Unless, of course, you prefer that I rip them out your head with your own dead, bony fingers.”

“Of-of course not, sir.”

ooOOoo

Golden-brown eyes darted across the large herd of buttons. Each key, switch and knob appeared as foreign as the next to his untrained mind. Various numbers raced on tiny computer screens, some growing larger with each increment in his altitude. Through the tinted squared window of the cockpit, the pale green planet skies seemed unchanged even as the aircraft drew closer to breaking into space.

Inside the wing-less, sphere-shaped craft, a single traveller exhausted the allocated space for both pilot and passenger. To fly a Spearopter, one would have to know at least the basics of navigation. They were built for the Elite Saijan Military, exactly which segment he wasn’t sure, but for the main purpose of space travel. Saijans would use these as means to travel to innocent planets – ‘just waiting to be overtaken,’ according to them. He made a mental note to destroy this machine the second he touched down on Earth. Thank goodness his blood was only cursed with half of Saijan DNA.

The yellow rodent-like creature stirred on his lap, uneasy about the astounding height they managed to climb, and continued to climb. Three brown stripes were lined horizontally across its back, still vibrant like its brilliant yellow fur, since the day it arrived with its master on Planet Vegeta. A caring palm brushed along its fur, from head to lightning bolt-shaped tail.

Ash smiled at his best friend.

But the moment didn’t last long. Pikachu shrieked as it was propelled forward from an abrupt rock of the Spearopter. Unlike his partner, Ash was lucky enough not to get thrown against the windshield. A threatening red light flickered with a loud alarm ring. The feminine computer voice warned that any further damage to the ship would be fatal. Ash gritted his teeth. And they were so close too…

The Spearopter’s crash course was going well even without the help of another attack. It was shooting down faster than it had rose. The collision was inevitable. Ash slammed his fist into the panel, angered by the failure and irritated by the computer telling him to evacuate with the installed parachutes.

BOOM!

All the Froshian soldiers turned to witness the tall fountain of red flames erupt into the clouds. “Was that a ship that just went down?”

“I think it was a Spearopter.” Stryde remembered seeing one shoot towards the sky in much hurry.

“A Spearopter?” The Captain thought. “But we wouldn’t have enough firepower to take down a Spearopter at present and I know our air forces have been absent for the duration of this mission. But … I wouldn’t see why the Saijan army would shoot down one of their own. Perhaps there’s division amongst them. How foolish. They’ve just given us another advantage. We must –”

“AHHH!” The Captain’s words were cut short by a shriek almost too shrill to be masculine. “Sorry, capt’n, but I think there’s somethin’ come-comin’ outta that burning ship!” A soldier pointed a shaky finger in the direction.

A male figure took its time walking from the crash site. Its black pants were dark as the fumes rising behind it save for a white flame printed halfway up its right leg. On its shoulder sat a proud yellow creature, its jagged tail wagging behind its back. His spiky jet-black hair was definitely of Saijan descent but if it that was the case then…

“Where’s its tail?” All the soldiers’ eyes travelled south and missed the tail that had usually been wrapped around a Saijan’s waist.

“Don’t be fooled,” Captain, and General, Dibben cautioned. “It could be hiding it as part of some sort of strategy.”

The Saijan continued to stride towards the bunch of Froshia. His open t-shirt, black on the left side and white on the right, was open in the centre, revealing an athletic chest and well-toned brawny abs. Fingerless gauntlets shined a brilliant white on his hands and up his elbows. His pace was smugly slow until suddenly, he just disappeared! Nothing but brown dirt, distant mountains and drifting smoke.

Gone … until they looked up. Barely bigger than a soaring bird, he hovered hundreds of feet high with his hands parted. In the space between his hands, a purple ball of energy was formed. The power crackling from the ball was so intense, and the grounded Froshia could feel it growing. Debris and tiny stones were lifted from the earth and strong winds began to flock around the troops. The energy grew much too strong and the Froshia were dragged backwards with their arms guarding their eyes. Persistently, the Ki ball was gathering even more energy!

“Argh! That’s way too much power! At this rate he’s going to destroy the entire planet whether he hits us or not!” The winds dragged the Captain back a few feet. “That’s it. Board your ships men! We’ll evacuate the planet now! That nut is gonna destroy the planet for us!”

The Froshia pressed a special button on their Scouters. Within seconds, a fleet of bowl-shaped vehicles stormed to their masters’ aid. The troops hopped into the bowls and a round concave glass swooped over them. In an unorganized hurry, the crafts took to the skies and into space, far away from the doomed Planet Vegeta.

ooOOoo

Vegeta watched the Froshian troops flea from within the tall tower’s control room. It was interesting how much power the boy managed to manifest over the years. Finally, something he could be proud of. Unfortunately, the boy’s power would have to be cut short due to its unfavourable intentions.

“Zarbon.”

The General nodded at once. He understood the order completely.


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Author’s Notes

Well, there it is. For those of you who don’t know: Vegeta, Trunks, Zarbon, Dodoria and Bulma are all from Dragon Ball Z. And the Froshia are a race that greatly resembles Freiza! (Hint, hint, who the leader of their planet is ;))

Yup, Ash is a half Saijan. I guess the question now has shifted to ‘who is his mother … or what is she?’ This is a crossover and I realise that most of this chapter leaned towards the DBZ side but ultimately it’s going to be a Pokémon story. And don’t be confused that the chapter starts a different place the prologue ended. I decided I’d do a fast forward then include bits and pieces of the past later as the story progresses. Stick around to see how much Brock, Misty and friends have changed and what has become of planet Earth since Ash left.

So, tell me what you think. Please Review!

Thanks for Reading!


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