Dragon Ball Z
The Android War

Chapter One
The Emergence

Somewhere near Orange Star City, North America, after-colony 190…
Three days before the arrival of the Androids:

"Zachary Adams, born after-colony one-seven-seven, April 20th, parents: Nala and Duncan Adams; sibling, Trinity Adams. Blood type, AB; suffers from partial anaemia. Eye colour, black, hair colour, black."
Cobalt stood on a rocky mesa overlooking a vast canyon, cut with deep gorges, valleys and rivers that sneaked and slithered their way through the rock like great serpents of legend, and watched contentedly as the setting sun cast vibrant shadows of red, scarlet and crimson over his light Aryan skin, and onto the bleached rock beneath his booted feet.
At the age of twelve, Cobalt neither had the youthful good-looks of a kid, nor did he possess the handsomeness of a man; he was quite happy to be, in his mind, a great looking pre-teen. If nothing else, he loved his hair, especially now that it had taken on a new colour; one nothing short of funky. He had been told categorically that he would now never develop any of the negative effects of puberty, or the negative effects of humanity for that matter, and to someone who valued his appearance as highly as he did, that was an exceptionally good thing. Yet, even in the midst of all his self-embellishment, he was curious…
After nearly six months of being sealed inside the underground research facility belonging to the shadowy organisation that had approached him what seemed so long ago, he was glad to be out in the fresh air, especially when there was so much for him to do.
It was this sense of curiosity that had led the apparently unnamed organisation to him in the first place.
Or so he had been told.
But, being a supposedly innocent boy of twelve, he chose to accept the facts as the presented themselves to him; which seemed a perfectly sensible approach, given what he gathered this group could do to him if he were to contest the truth with them.
Although he no longer felt threatened; something about the sunset calmed him to the point where he felt almost invulnerable. He liked that feeling, now more than ever.
Because it was now, standing proudly overlooking the world beneath him that the true scope of what he had become began to sink in. Dressed in white boots, and similar white gauntlet-style gloves, with a skin-tight black bodysuit, and a contoured armoured chestplate with its ornate wings and sculpture of human muscles engraved into its surface, that he knew what he was, especially when poking out of the back of this elaborate getup, was the true symbol of his new self; a fluffy brown tail.
Running a hand through his spiky blue hair, and with the same movement, tightening the white bandana he wore around his forehead, he took the personnel report from his other hand, and vaporised it with a single sphere of shimmering golden energy.
"Casting off the shackles of you former self, I see," came a voice from behind, accompanied by the sound of somewhat sarcastic applause; applause from the hands of a man who knew nothing of the ways of war, Cobalt thought.
Cobalt turned casually to face the possessor of the voice; a man by the name of Gatoka, usually with the prefix of "doctor" inexorably joined at the beginning. Cobalt didn't know Gatoka's first name, and when he had asked about it, the man had replied, saying that it was irrelevant.
Again, in this case, Cobalt's juvenile naïveté had told him not to further pursue that particular line of questioning, judging by the irate reaction from Gatoka whenever it was mentioned.
"Yeah," Cobalt replied. "I can't remember who that guy is."
Gatoka smiled warmly, and took several steps out from beneath the side of the cliff, and bringing himself fully into the approaching twilight.
He was in his typical attire: a long green cape attached to wide metal shoulder pads that splayed out to each side of his neck, and were decorated with numerous glyphs and symbols from a dozen or so ancient languages. Underneath this heavy garment he wore a similar black suit as Cobalt's, although his sat quite comfortably neither tight nor baggy on his body, across his chest were straps which contoured around to his hips, and ended at two identical holsters which held a gun on one side, and a blade on the other. Finally, a pair of white boots completed the otherwise ornate outfit.
Gatoka himself looked no older than his late twenties, even through from what Cobalt had heard from the numerous persons assigned to the lab where he had recently resided, Gatoka had to be at least fifty. The man had long white hair; the kind of white you see on a snowy morning, not the kind of white you see on an elderly person, and the kind of eyes that seemed to pierce into your very soul with each glance.
"You have come far since we met," Gatoka said proudly. "And you look so very different to that arrogant boy I interviewed nearly a year ago; I'm very proud of you; you and your sister and your friends. I can't begin to say how much it means to me that you volunteered, especially when I offered you a chance to say no at the very beginning."
Cobalt smirked, and ran another hand through his hair. "Good to hear that I've got your approval."
"You have my utmost congratulations, Cobalt," Gatoka replied, with a genuine sound to his words. "I have seen people twice your age endure the procedure, and none of them live today. You, your sister and your friends are truly amazing children."
Cobalt blushed, and turned away hurriedly to avoid embarrassment. "So, when can I go? You already sent Trinity out yesterday, and I haven't left the mountain for over six months; isn't it time I get a break?"
Gatoka nodded. "I told you that we cannot afford to have the Earth's Special Forces discover you yet, and the best way for you to remain hidden from them is to travel alone. Even with your power levels concealed, you will most likely be sensed if you travel together."
Cobalt snorted indignantly, and blasted a hole in the ground at his feet with a small energy wave. "A simple 'no' would have sufficed," he muttered.
Gatoka stepped forward, and placed a hand on Cobalt's armoured shoulder. "Have you done it yet?" he asked, somewhat cryptically.
The young Saiyan/Human hybrid looked back to him, puzzled for a moment, and then remembered what the Doctor was referring to.
"It's tough, I don't know what to do," Cobalt said sorrowfully.
Gatoka removed his hand from Cobalt's shoulder, and clasped his hand behind his back. "You already have the power; you don't need the kind of stimulation that the true Saiyans did."
That sentence struck a chord with Cobalt. 'True Saiyans'. What did that make him? A fake? A cheap imitation?
Gatoka continued: "Becoming a Super Saiyan isn't exactly a one-day job, but I have placed you in the best position to do it. Don't lose faith in yourself; when you do that you will never be able to transform." Gatoka paused, and smiled again. "Oh, and make sure not to overuse your power; we don't want the Earth's Special Forces finding us, not yet."
"I'll keep that in mind," Cobalt replied jokingly. He turned around to speak again, but Gatoka was already gone…

Kami's Lookout…

"Three times in the last month, Piccolo. That does not strike me as something that I simply imagined. There is certainly more than one person out there, hiding, with unbelievable power."
Piccolo swept around from the edge of the Lookout to face Kami, his long white cape blowing in the wind. The elderly Namek's skin turned a deep brown in the sunset, and Piccolo restrained the smile he felt coming along when he noticed the distinct similarity between Kami's face and a disintegrating leather handbag.
"I still fail to see why this requires my attention," Piccolo muttered acidly. "You have spare time, don't you, Old Man? Why don't you investigate it?"
Kami strengthened his grip on the wooden staff in his left hand, and clenched his right fist in frustration; a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Piccolo.
"Don't get so mad; I don't want you to have a heart attack or anythin'," Piccolo snickered. "It could go badly for me."
"Don't mock me, Piccolo!" Kami snapped. "You may not like me, but I am still this planet's Guardian, and you will speak respectfully!"
Piccolo rolled his black eyes, and folded his arms.
"What do you want me to do?"
Kami's grip on the staff lessened, as did his potentially explosive temper.
"I want you to find the owner of one of these power levels, and bring them to me, so I may speak with them."
Piccolo's expression made a radical shift from one of vague disinterest, to one of total bewilderment.
"And forfeit my training with Goku?" he sneered. "You want me to give up on training to beat the Androids, so I can follow up on your hunch? Get real, Old Man."
Kami sighed. "You may use the Pendulum Room to compensate for the lack of training, when you return, and not before," he said commandingly.
Piccolo began to laugh bitterly to himself, but quickly stopped, and faced Kami as genially as he could.
The sun had now set, and the dark shroud of twilight fell over the Lookout, casting dark and obscure shadows from Piccolo, Kami and the pine trees also residing on the top of the holy place.
"Fine," Piccolo said. "I'll do this, but only for three days; then I'm going to fight the Androids with Goku."
"Agreed," Kami stated, slightly disinterestedly.
Piccolo unfolded his arms, and clenched his fists excitedly, then brushed some dust from his white shoulder pads, and blinked a few time, adjusting to the lack of light. He had long ago come to the conclusion that Namek's and darkness did not go together, seeing as the sun always shone on their homeworld from one of Namek's trinary suns, it made sense that Namekian vision was not used to lack of any sunlight.
"Where am I supposed to start?" Piccolo asked, as 'respectfully' as he could manage. "Earth's a big place, and I don't have any way of finding them, except when they raise their power to move from place to place."
"Quite right," Kami said lightly, withdrawing something from his cloak, and presenting it to Piccolo. The young Namek could hardly believe his eyes.
"A Scouter?" he asked incredulously.
Kami nodded, and pressed a button on the side of the alien device, apparently the 'on' switch. "You remember Frieza's brother, Cooler?"
Piccolo snarled, and felt a powerful memory of Cooler's death beam piercing his heart.
"Vaguely," Piccolo said nonchalantly.
Kami continued: "This was salvaged from his ship by Bulma, before Goku blew it into a million pieces. She tells me it has been refitted and enhanced so as to detect even the slightest power levels. If the person you seek lets their power go for even a fraction of a second, you will find them."
"Great," Piccolo muttered, "I get to wear a Saiyan fashion accessory, wonderful."
"This accessory, will make your task much easier," Kami retorted, handing the Scouter to Piccolo gently, making sure no to damage then sensitive machine. "And if it makes you feel better, I hear that Saiyans didn't invent them."
"So Frieza's people did. Even better."
Kami laughed loudly, then stopped as he began to choke. Piccolo winced as Kami's pain became his for a split second; the wind from his lungs was gone, and a fire burned in his chest, all in the fraction of an instant.
"Mister Popo," Kami beckoned weakly, his usually tight grip on the Guardian's staff loosening to the point where he dropped it.
"Yes, Kami!" Popo exclaimed, hurrying out of the Lookout's main building into the darkness, and running toward the two Nameks.
"Mister Popo, please show Piccolo how to operate the Scouter, I must return to my quarters," the elderly Namek said weakly, picking up his staff, and walking painfully toward the Lookout's palatial main building, coughing and wheezing.

Click here to view Chapter 2 of The Android Wars - Fan Fiction