In Search Of Oceans.

A/N:

This is an A\U; it does not run along the lines of Dragonball Z. If some characters appear out of character then I do apologize. This fic involves Piccolo and many other Z fighters, along with my own characters. I do not own Dragonball Z. They are the sole property of Akira Toriyama, a man with a great imagination. Please do not steal any of the characters I created. They were created by me for the sole purpose of this story.

This story is in a revamp process

((In this fic, Nameks are NOT asexual, but they can still reproduce asexually due to there not being any female Nameks in over 500 years))

Prologue

The cold wind, so bitter and twisted freezes her joints so that they can barely function. She must press on; their very lives depended on her. The snow is up to her bare ankles, pulling her down as though it were quicksand. Gia tightly grips her fingers as they turn red, chapping from the icy wind. She brings her single cargo closer to her heart, swearing no one will take possession of it. Knowing it would be sold for a profit; and after what she had just committed, no mercy would be offered to either of them. A faint voice from behind catches her ear.

"Damn you, you thieving bitch, you will pay with your life!" A man's foul, vicious voice calls, following close behind. Closing in like a hungry wolf on the scent of blood. Gia's heart pounds. It was just a few beans and carrots; it was of no loss to anyone. However, her employer did not see it this way. As the sound of his thundering boots continues to grow louder and louder, her legs becoming weaker and weaker. Looking up past the snow covered branches of the trees she passes, she gazes skyward. Praying to her god that safety would find them, would he show them compassion?
"My God, I beg of you. Save me and my only child from the grisly end that I deserve. Under your law, protect it!" She calls up breathlessly, running in her open sandals and ragged clothing. The streets of the dull city are deserted, with only a few large houses illuminated on the inside to reveal all the signs of life, thriving beyond their concrete walls.
"Stop thief, I'll have your hands as payment for your crime!" The deep intoxicated voice shouts. He is coming closer. Gia buries her face against the black and red patterned cloth in her arms, trying not to cry. Her chance comes; the corner of the alleyway is within reach. Swiftly, she turns into it, narrowly missing the jagged brick corner. The snow is minimal here; only icy water drips from the rooftop drain. She falls to the cold ground, scraping her knees. She scurries across the damp ground trying to find a dryer spot. A broken wicker basket lies against a bunch of trash cans.
"My lord God, please hear me. Protect my little one from death," she uttered aloud toward the skies. The thought of what she was about to do eating her alive, but it's her only choice.

Quickly she lifts her maroon hood from atop her head, her ruddy brown hair falling around her face, enhancing the greenness in her eyes. Gingerly she places the hood over the infant that lies bundled before her.
"Goodbye, my baby. I love you with all my heart," she says, kissing the tips of her fingers, touching them against the baby's forehead. Her tears blur her vision. She stands, huddling her arms closer to her chest she run toward the opening of the laneway and back out to the street, not looking back once. Her desperate footsteps became softer and softer as she runs further and further away from the dark alleyway, and her child.

The alleyway is quite and dark as the night surrounded it. Accompanied only by the dripping sounds of snow melting off the roof. The tripping suddenly stops as if on command. The bundle in the broken wicker basket lies as the cold starts to increase. The infant whimpers and peeps, then starts howling from beneath the maroon hood that lay over its head.
A pair of hands reached out to her gently, lifting her from the broken basket and into a pair of weak but wise arms, cradled her soothingly. The young rescuer shifts the maroon hood from over the infant's reddened and chapped face. He looks upon her, smiling warmly at her. A mass of horrid cries fills the air from out in the street. He looks with a gasp, and then realizes what had taken place not too far away. In his young but wise mind, he knew it was miraculous that he had sensed such a thing would happen; now what lay in his arms is an orphan.
"We can do nothing more here. We have to go now" A deep, grating voice reminds him and places a hand over his robe draped shoulder. The young rescuer acknowledges his companion's words with a weary nod, as he continues to look out toward the street where Gia's death screams had filled the air.
"I know. I wish I could only have done more, Piccolo. It seems so wrong to have saved it and let its mother perish." Dende says. Holding the infant closer to his chest, his hand cradles the back.

Piccolo crosses his arms over his chest. Exhaling the frosty air from his nostrils he looks toward the heavens, observing the cloudless yet star filled sky.
"You've done enough. You are the guardian of the earth. As you well know, you can only do so much for the people of this planet on a personal level." Piccolo reminds. Knowing the young guardian feels responsibility to the death of all. In Piccolo's opinion it's an enigma that Dende had foreseen this child's situation. He does not agree with changing the course of nature, by saving someone whom was surely destined to die. It would have a great impact on what was due to happen, even if it were only a child that had to breathe its last.

Piccolo was distressed when Dende summoned him for an urgent matter earlier that evening, which turned out to be this. He had moved away from the Lookout for the purpose of finding peace from hollow situations. Though he would still answer a call from Goku or Gohan to defend the earth, but thankfully that had not happened in a long time. Not since the defeat of Buu had calls come. He had hoped this was a sign that he would have solitude for the rest of his days.
Perhaps not, Piccolo wonders, looking down toward the guardian grasping the child protectively. Realizing there would be hard times ahead that the wise, yet still inexperienced guardian has not foreseen. Dende turns toward Piccolo, prepared to leave. Tucking the small baby deeper into its bundle of rags. Piccolo leans down and tucks Dende beneath his muscles arm, their journey will be quicker if he flies them both back. Dende would surely protest if he happens to damage the infant on the way. So he takes care to be gentle, much to his annoyance. He takes off from the alleyway, into the clear cold sky bound for the Lookout, high above the earth.