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In the dusty streets outside of the clinic, Nione grits her teeth. The pain is something else; to suffer several broken ribs, a shattered shin, and who knows how many other injuries meant a long leave of absence.
A long, long leave.
Under her breath, Nione curses. A middle class warrior such as herself has none of the needed clout to ask for special permission to use a healing pod. The technology was shiny and new, and only the highest of elites were allowed to use the one that King Cold had sent them as a token of service. To be healed overnight was the stuff of dreams, but she had to live the nightmare.
Down the street, Nione limps. Some give her a passing glance; she’s very tall, after all, almost reaching seven feet. She’s turned heads as long as she can remember.
Now it feels like they’re just barely holding back a smart remark.
If she hears one, the speaker will be thrown into a building, injuries be damned.
A middle-class warrior. Second-in-command in her squad. And now, right as she starts hearing rumours of a promotion - upper-middle class, still miles away from elite, but a promotion nonetheless - a colossal wrench is thrown into her plans. Ever since she was a child, Nione promised herself that she would never let anything in life get in her way of greatness, but it seemed as though life itself had other plans for her.
She drags herself home and falls down on her couch, forcing herself not to wince. She unties her ponytail, letting her long, black hair loose, and sits back.
It’s torture. Just sitting there, waiting to get better, is absolute torture.
Nione taps her nails against the arm of the couch as her mind races a mile a minute with all the things she could be doing right now, if only Rabe hadn’t been an absolute jackass and pushed her into the line of fire. If she wasn’t being considered for a promotion, and if the saiyans didn’t need every warrior they had, Nione would happily break his arm. She couldn’t train. She couldn’t go on missions. She could barely walk. Nione growls, frustration growing. How was she supposed to stay relevant if all she could do was sit and wait?
Maybe Celeli had some advice to give…
Nione’s brow furrows as she thinks of her friend. Celeli had been through something similar almost two years ago. A terrible, long-term injury, and yet she had kept her title as commander of her own squad. And to do that, she had had a child in the meantime.
Nione looks down at her stomach. “A baby, huh?” Her hand ghosts over the skin, imagining a bump there. It’s a strange, uncomfortable image, and she looks away, back at the door, the ceiling, the window, anywhere else.
The idea won’t leave her mind. It had worked perfectly for Celeli, and any child of Nione’s would certainly be phenomenal. And if the father was from a higher class…
In the privacy of her own home, Nione smirks. She has just the person in mind.
Nione decides to be good and wait a little while before approaching Paragus. Her bones are still broken, things still feel odd on the inside, but she’s satisfied that she can easily still lift him up and throw him across the street if she so desired. She doubts it would come to that - Paragus is no fool - but she needs every advantage she can get.
His eyebrows raise as he sees her approach. Nione decides she doesn’t care what he thinks of her injuries, not even when he greets her with a single nod and the words, “I heard you had gotten into an accident.”
She scoffs. “You can thank Rabe for that. Knocked me right into where I didn’t want to be.”
Paragus only nods again, looking at her expectantly. Nione would pretend to be insulted, but their relationship had always been based on one of them needing the other for something. Nione could appreciate that about him; there was no subterfuge between them, just a cautious, grudging respect that tiptoed toward the line of friendship but never quite made it there.
She wastes no time. “I’m going to have a baby.”
“Ah, I see. Congratulations.”
A laugh. “I’m not pregnant yet.”
The penny drops. His eyes widen, then narrow again in a glare. “You’re asking me because-”
“Because you’re a high-class warrior who can tolerate being around me, yes.”
He closes his eyes and sighs. “And if I say no?”
“Why would you? You don’t have any children yet either. I may be lower class than you, but I shouldn’t have to tell you how strong I am. Unless you want a reminder?”
The bitter look on Paragus’ face was something to savour. Throughout all the years they had known each other, all the sparring matches and full-blown fights they had, Nione hadn’t lost a single time against him. Her power level was exceptionally high for someone of her class. Paragus certainly knew this. Besides, Nione was attractive, tall, dominant, strong… an ideal saiyan woman, if she did say so herself. She didn’t accept anything short of the best for herself. Her one flaw, something she could never control, was her status.
It seems that Paragus agreed, because it didn’t take long for him to answer. “Very well. I accept your offer.”
“Good to hear.” Nione cocks one hip, lifting pressure away from her injured leg. “Send me a message when you’ve got a night free. I’ll be waiting.”
After all, it wasn’t as though she had much else to do these days.
Paragus only grunts in response, looking away. He’s acting cool, but Nione’s been around him long enough to read him like a book. She walks away knowing he’s looking forward to it.
“Paragus, huh?”
Celeli looks like she’s holding back a laugh. Nione rolls her eyes at her best friend, placing one hand on her stomach. She had gotten the confirmation earlier that day: there was a baby in there. A new saiyan warrior to rise up and conquer the worlds across the galaxy. Once their power level was determined and the class of the father was considered, Nione was certain they would be granted a high class status, and hopefully propel her forward, too.
“So what if I decided to aim high? Unlike someone I know.”
“Hey! At least I can stand to be around Gar for more than a day at a time!”
Nione laughs. Celeli is still so childlike and emotional when she’s not on her missions. It’s refreshing, and in some ways, it makes Nione feel better about herself. “Then why don’t you marry him if you like him so much, hm?”
Celeli makes a face, sticking her tongue out in distaste, and Nione laughs harder, feeling her ribs cry out in protest.
“Yeah, no. I like him, but not that much.” Celeli fiddles with one of the buns in her hair. “Besides, he’s been looking after Nork ever since we had to send back the incubation pod.”
“That’s because you ran out of money when you were pregnant,” Nione points out. “Paragus will have plenty to keep the kid under control.”
Celeli pouts. “I guess. It’s kinda nice that Gar took the reigns with that, though. I don’t mind spending some time with Nork but looking after her all day?” She shakes her head impatiently. “I have a squad to run, ya know?”
“With any luck, we’ll just keep the kid in the incubator until they’re ready to look after themselves,” Nione replies dismissively. She’s not interested in being a mother like some are. Maybe Paragus would be more involved in the kid’s life, but Nione just needed the kid to raise her status.
Celeli hums to herself. “I guess. I just really want to make sure Nork ends up right, ya know? Make sure she doesn’t do anything dumb.”
Nione glances down at her stomach. She doesn’t want this kid to destroy her reputation either. “I’ll let Paragus handle that. That seems like his kind of thing.” She leans back in her chair and stretches, ignoring the pain that ignites all over herself. “So. Speaking of, how is your kid?”
Celeli’s eyes light up just a little, and Nione wonders if her friend has caught the ‘parental pride’ that she’s seen before. “Not bad at all! Okay sure, her power level is still kind of low, and her ki control still needs work, but if she’s inherited anything, it’s our strength. I bet she could lift up any of the other kids. Sometimes I think she could even lift up me or Gar!”
Nione nods, mildly impressed. Brute strength isn’t enough to make a full-fledged warrior, but in a two-year-old, it wasn’t something to write off so quickly.
“Maybe mine will give yours a run for her money?”
Celeli groans. “Stop turnin’ everything into a competition, Nione.” She huffs, crossing her arms, but then looks at her, curiously. “That reminds me, are you thinking of any names?”
Nione shakes her head. “I think that’ll be Paragus’ job, too. I’m not here to be a mother, I just need to have this baby and that’s it. Then I can get on with my life.”
As Celeli opens her mouth to respond, the door opens and Gar comes in with Nork tucked securely in his arms. The child wiggles, doing her best to escape, and Nione can see what Celeli meant by her brute strength. Gar’s arms are massive and strong, yet the girl manages to push little gaps of room for herself before Gar shifts his arm and retains his grip on her.
Gar walks over to Celeli and puts their daughter on her lap. He grunts a greeting of sorts to them both, then falls down on his own chair, closing his eyes. Nione smirks. She knows Gar is jealous of Celeli. Nione herself is jealous of Celeli, but Celeli is the kind of person that neither of them could hate for it.
She hears a clutter and looks over. Nork is sitting still, swinging her legs, as Celeli pulls a brush through her daughter's hair, sectioning it into two parts and tying it into a pair of pigtails. She pats her back and Nork slides off her mother's lap, taking a moment to wave at Nione before climbing back onto her father.
The whole scene is unnervingly domestic and Nione can't understand why either of them bother so much.
Celeli stands back up, stretching her arms and jerking her head towards the door. "Wanna go out, ask around about jobs?"
Nione's discomfort subsides as she follows her friend out the door, leaving Gar and Nork behind without a backwards glance. "Are there any jobs for pregnant women?"
Nione can all but hear Celeli's grin. "You'd be surprised."
Two months later, Nione gets the message. The cloaking on one of Celeli's squad's space pods malfunctioned over an armed planet. The entire squad was gunned down from the sky.
No survivors.
Celeli's connections remain. Nione can keep doing jobs, keep her relevance, but now it feels like pity. Handfuls and handfuls of pity for the poor, injured, pregnant woman who just lost her closest friend.
She takes it anyway. She can handle feelings. She can't let herself fall to the side.
It's better than shedding useless tears.
No matter how hard she works, no matter how much progress she makes, the pains don’t go away. Nione curses the softness in her heart, wishes she could let it go and live a life free of attachments, but Celeli had always seemed so… eternal . Still, life goes on, even when another has stopped.
Day to day, Nione lives, works, trains, and hurts. The baby inside her grows, and drains her faster than she likes. She wants it out, but it’s only half done. Time is crawling and Nione has never been a particularly patient person. She knew what she wanted, she fought to find out how to get it.
That had been the main difference between her and Celeli; Celeli had always been complacent with being the leader of a squad, but Nione wanted the highest status she could claim, to be on par with the elites. Once she had entertained the idea that her child could marry their way into the royal family, bringing her the highest honour she could claim without being royal herself.
Now the thought seemed hopelessly naive. Life was never that convenient.
Nione doesn't consider herself sentimental, but sometimes she finds herself outside Celeli’s place. She considers going inside once or twice, but she knows what she’ll find, or rather, what she won’t find.
One day, however, she finds Gar, looking at the door, a sleeping brat hanging on his arm.
He sees her and glares. “So you finally show up, huh?”
Nione turns her nose up at him. He’s not worth her breath.
“That’s just like you, huh? Ignore anything that doesn’t get you forward?”
She scoffs. Fine, she’ll play it his way. “And so what if I do? What does talking to you get me?”
Gar looks furious, but when he speaks, he sounds more like a child, puffing himself up to hide how afraid he really is. “I don’t know! Fuck, closure maybe? You're not the only one who lost a friend!"
Nione never cared for Gar. She still thinks that the borderline family he and Celeli shared was strange and unnecessary, but now, as she looks at the angry, tired face of a man who was thrust into the life of a caretaker, and the sleeping child who is too young to remember her mother, she feels a squish in her guts that has nothing to do with the child inside her.
She hates the feeling. She says no more, only turns on her heel and leaves.
Three months later, Nione hears the news again. It’s sudden, unexpected, but a health issue has Gar sent to a clinic and he doesn’t come back out. Nione decides she doesn’t want the details, not on Gar, and not on the daughter he and Celeli left behind. That’s none of her concern.
Just once when she was out, training despite the unchanging pain, did she see Nork again. The small child ran among the other children, screaming and yelling and fighting tooth and nail.
She was Celeli's daughter. She'd be fine without her father's coddling.
Nione ignores the unease in her gut and the pain in her bones, and keeps working out.
When Nione is seven months pregnant, she finds Paragus again. She offers no greetings, no pleasantries; she wants to be rid of this burden as soon as she can. "It's a boy. I can tell."
Paragus raises his eyebrows. “I never took you for one to have a mother’s intuition.”
“I don’t.” There was hardly anything maternal about it. “I’m here to tell you that once he’s born, you can do whatever you want with him, but I don’t want him in my life at all. I don’t want him near me, I don’t want him to know I’m the mother. He’s all yours.”
“Not even as a status boost?” Paragus doesn’t sound convinced, nor did she expect him to be. Nione feels disgust at herself for giving up the opportunities that this child could carry, but just like she knew it was a boy, she knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt...
“He’s a bad omen. The longer he’s around, the more people will die.”
“Are you crazy?!”
Paragus is looking at her like she had lost her mind, and erhaps she has. But so many months of unease, of growing paranoia and pain, of watching every trace of her closest comrade get annihilated… Nione just knows . This baby is bad news.
Paragus keeps talking, saying things that Nione refuses to register. She’s lost time, and maybe the boy will give her a boost in some roundabout way, but she knows she can’t stay around him. Nine months would be too much time around a curse, and in the end, Paragus realises that he can’t convince her that she's being foolish.
It’s not a big loss. The kid will survive without her. Nione just hopes she’ll survive with or without him.
Things go wrong as the due date comes around, and when Nione is rushed to the clinic for the delivery, she hears all sorts of things. Complications, bones weak, unhealed and untreated injuries, body pushed to the limits… A low class nurse even has the nerve to tell her that all her efforts to stay relevant and important, all her efforts to push forward in life, were going to kill her, the baby, or both.
Nione might be weakened and in heaps of agonising pain, but she still throws that nurse out of her room with her own hands.
Was that it? Was all that pregnancy torture, all the paranoia that followed her as the baby grew and filled her with terror and unease at what she was bringing into this world, her lifetime of planning and taking action and clawing her way up, was it all going to end right now? In some dingy clinic with nurses who couldn’t keep their traps shut, delivering a devil into the world?
People are yelling left and right, and Nione can’t understand their words. Her pain swells, becomes unimaginably violent, and in her rage at being cheated from her own life, Nione makes her child her curse. Her curse on her race, their society, and all the bullshit they put her through by denying her an opportunity at greatness. If she was going to die, she was going to make sure the child lived to take everyone else down with her. She feels a surge of power, so strong her vision goes pure green, before it fades to black and she can no longer regain her sight.
Was this fate? Was this her own doing? Or was there something else there, all along, hidden beneath the surface like an unborn child?
In a small clinic, weakened by unhealed injuries and painful complications, Nione dies. The paperwork is put forward to acknowledge her as an upper-middle class warrior post-mortem.
The baby is a boy. The father, still astonished by the mother’s death, names him Broly.