Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Dark Heart ❯ A Saiyan's Voice ( Chapter 13 )

I watched a small snail, crawling

on the edge of a straight razor.

That's my dream. It's my nightmare.

Crawling, slithering,

along the edge of a straight razor,

and surviving.

[Colonel Kurtz; “Apocalypse Now”]

Bulma wiped her forehead as she tiredly sat on the floor.

She was exhausted.

She'd been working nonstop on Vegeta's ship for three days now, trying to repair the circuit system as fast as she could. The fact that her Prince had left a message for her in the memory system of the vehicle was enough to keep her motivated, but truth be told, the whole experience was taking a toll on her.

Hard work didn't bother her, but the harsh conditions surrounding them didn't help. The weather was unbearably cold, and the days on this frozen planet were short, which made the nights excruciatingly long; and lonely, of course.

Being inside the warrior's ship all day made her realize how much she really missed him. This was the ship she'd first built for him, the one where he'd trained in order to prepare himself for the battle with the androids, and the one where she'd slowly come to realize she'd fallen in love with her man.

She sighed, allowing herself a few moments of nostalgia, lost in the memories of her feelings for him. The heiress didn't fully understand why or how she'd end up falling in love with Vegeta; sure, things between her and Yamcha had been strained for a while, especially considering the fact that they'd been trying for a baby for over a year with no success. But out of all the eligible men on Earth, why the Saiyan Prince?

She knew why.

He was different, just like her. They were both incredibly stubborn people, born into wealthy and powerful families. Obviously, their lives had been very different, while hers had been filled with harmless adventure, his had been full of only Dende knew what… One thing was certain, he'd suffered a lot, and the fact that he'd freed those slaves instead of just taking them for himself was proof, at least to her, that he'd actually known what being owned by someone else meant.

She shook her head.

She still couldn't believe she'd been afraid of the possibility of Vegeta being evil. Deep down, she knew he wouldn't be able to go back to his old self. Not after all the things they'd been through on her planet. The blue haired woman recalled her conversation with Dende, where the young God had basically warned her about the possibility of Vegeta losing his mind one way or the other. Khalla's words had also brought her a reason to be concerned: she said the Prince had looked lost.

Bulma slowly stood up, wiping off her jumper. She believed that her man getting rid of Frieza's scummy monsters was good, but she also knew that they were all still in a lot of danger. After all, what was the warrior going to do once he got rid of those guys? She knew Vegeta was someone that always needed a goal in life, something to keep him going, motivated. First, it had been defeating Frieza, then the androids, then Goku. What a mess the whole thing had turned out to be…

She felt sorry for him, she really did. The scientist believed that his place should be on Earth, with Trunks and her, and she hoped she'd eventually be able to make him understand that or, at the very least, to make him give the possibility of a life in peace, without violence or revenge, a real chance.

“Alright, baby” she said to the machine as she proceeded to run the first tests, “let's see if I managed to fix you…”

Meanwhile, Yamcha and Krillin waited outside, inside a little Capsule Corp. house Bulma had installed, with Khalla's permission, in the old woman's backyard. It was small but comfortable, with only two bedrooms, which meant that the two men had been taking turns sleeping on the couch, chivalrously allowing Bulma to sleep on one of the beds full-time.

They were in the middle of a card game when the scientist's voice sounded through the intercom.

“Guys?” she asked.

Yamcha approached the communication device, pressing the button.

“What's up?”

“I think I fixed it! The system seems to be working! I'll check if the memory hard drives are working properly and if the recording's still in there…” she replied, sounding really excited.

“That's great, B.! Do you want us to go in there with you?”

There was a short silence.

“Um… No… I think it's better if I listen to it by myself first if you guys don't mind…” she said almost shyly.

“Sure, no problem… Just let us know when you're done…”

“I will… Uh, I gotta go…”

Bulma disconnected the intercom and Yamcha turned towards Krillin, who had been avidly listening to their brief conversation.

“You think she'll be alright?” the bald man asked worriedly.

The scarred faced warrior exhaled tiredly, sitting on a chair in front of his friend.

“Probably not…” he mumbled. “Knowing Vegeta, his message won't be very nice, uh?”

“I guess…” Krillin replied, deep in thought. “Especially if he was pissed off when he recorded it. Who knows what the fuck goes on inside that head of his…”

“I don't know, pal…”

`But what an idiot he is…' Yamcha thought to himself.

Back inside the ship, Bulma was sitting on the pilot's chair, impatiently waiting for the system to run.

It worked.

She typed in the security codes and she saw a red light blinking on the corner of the screen.

Vegeta's message.

Bulma took a deep breath and she pressed the OK button…

The sound of the recording wasn't very good, and she could hear a lot of noise in the background. And then she heard it, hard breathing, which she immediately recognized as Vegeta's.

A deep voice spoke, just for her…

“Woman… What the… What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

He sounded furious, panting heavily, and she could tell that he was unsuccessfully trying to keep his anger in check.

“What…? WHO SAID YOU HAD THE RIGHT TO FOLLOW ME? STAY AWAY FROM ME!!!”

Bulma was trembling, utterly distraught. She'd never been on the receiving end of Vegeta's fury. Not like this. They'd had their little arguments here and there, but deep down she'd known they'd both enjoyed pissing off one another.

But this was different.

This was pure, unadulterated rage.

“Where is he? Did you bring him with you, just like you did with the androids?”

Trunks.

He was talking about Trunks.

Was he finally showing concern towards his son?

“Just go back, woman! Go back and take care of YOUR child!”

Her tears started to fall.

Her child?

Fuck!

More harsh breathing.

“You had no right… No right…”

His voice was lower now.

“No right… I don't… I don't understand you…”

Confusion.

“You were safe now… You and the child… You were both safe…”

The woman listened to the Prince's voice, which had started to change, almost as if he were talking to himself now, trying to gather his own thoughts.

“You were safe from me…”

“No…” she whispered, as if he could hear her.

Safe from him? Did Vegeta think he was a danger to them? The heiress knew the Saiyan would never hurt them. Maybe he thought he'd hurt them emotionally?

He didn't talk for a while, but she could tell he'd been pacing and panting, probably as a result of trying to exercise some self-control.

Finally, he whispered…

“Bulma…”

She felt her chest tighten at the sound of her name on his lips. His voice was deep, masculine and intimate, and it reminded her of the private moments they'd shared during their nights together…

“Bulma… I see him… I see him, Bulma…”

There was something frantic in his voice, almost haunted.

“My father… What a joke…”

He laughed a sad, tragic laugh…

“What a joke…”

The blue haired beauty was now nervously biting the nail of her right thumb, eyes wide open, tears falling from them…

“He laughs at me, Bulma… I… I'm trying to show him… To show him what I'm capable of… But it's not enough…”

There was a hard sound, like a blow, and she guessed he'd hit something.

“It's never enough…”

He sounded like a child, like a lost, confused child…

“He wants me to stay away from you… He… You… He says you're not good for me… Not good… He mocks me in my dreams… My nightmares…”

There were some unintelligible sounds, and Vegeta was almost whispering by now. Bulma held her breath, struggling to hear him…

“Can you believe that? He tells me you'll only bring me pain… Pain and shame… I…”

His voice was trembling, and he let out a shaky breath…

“I tell him he's a liar! A fucking liar! I tell… I tell him you take it away… You take the pain away…”

He chuckled, a laugh full of agony and despair…

“What a fucking joke… I ask him… I ask him why… Why did he give me away? Why didn't I die with my people? I just… What a fucking joke my life's been…”

No. Bulma nervously shook her head. No!

He wanted to die? Was that his plan? Was he on some kind of reckless suicide mission?

“You have to stay away from me, Bulma… I'm no good… The boy… You keep him safe… You two just… Stay away from me…”

“No!” she yelled.

“Take care of my boy… Just... Stay away from me! DON'T COME LOOKING FOR ME! YOU HEAR ME?! STAY AWAY!!”

She heard him roar in desperation, exploding in a cloud of raw misery.

And then, there was nothing…

******************************************

Yamcha yawned loudly as he realized he'd just lost another card game to Krillin. He stood up and stretched his back until something audibly popped. He then walked towards one of the house's little windows, from which he could see the ship. It had been more than an hour since he'd last talked to his ex-girlfriend.

“You think she's doing alright?” Krillin asked all of a sudden with a concerned voice.

“I don't know… It's been a while, right? You think I should call and ask her?” Yamcha replied.

“Yeah, I have a bad feeling… Use the intercom, just in case…”

The taller man approached the communication device and he pressed the button.

“Bulma?”

Silence.

“Hey, B.! Is everything OK?”

Silence.

He turned towards Krillin, who was already standing up next to him, and both men exchanged a questioning look.

“You think we should go?” Yamcha asked.

The bald man nodded, already walking to the door, ready to exit their new little home. Yamcha followed him, and soon both warriors found themselves standing at the vehicle's heavy gate.

“Bulma?” Yamcha asked again, softly knocking.

Nothing.

“Bulma! I'm coming in, alright?” He warned, attempting to open the door and realizing it wasn't even locked.

“Shit!” Krillin whispered as they both saw what their friend was up to.

In front of them, Bulma was sitting on the floor, with her back against the wall. She'd wrapped herself in her now familiar blue blanket, her slender arms strongly clutching her knees against her chest, rocking back and forth like a terrified child that had just seen a monster under the bed. She kept biting one of her thumbnails, her eyes wide open, red and swollen from crying, and she looked completely absent.

Yamcha cautiously walked towards her, as if he were a hunter afraid of alarming his prey. These new circumstances scared the crap out of him, for he'd never ever seen the heiress in this condition.

“Bulma?” He asked softly.

She ignored him, still staring at an indefinite point…

“Babe? Are you alright?” He asked again, kneeling in front of her.

“Khalla…” She finally whispered, still not looking at him.

“What?”

Bulma finally set her drained blue eyes on her ex-lover and she asked again.

“Khalla… P-please… I need her…” she said with pleading eyes.

“Uh… Um… Of course, B., I'll go get her…” the now astonished man replied to her.

He stood up and walked towards the door, where Krillin had silently been observing the unnerving scene. They both looked at each other.

“She wants to see the older woman” Yamcha whispered, trying to prevent the scientist from hearing them. “What do you think she wants?”

“I don't know” the bald man honestly replied. “Maybe she just needs to talk to a woman? Let's just bring her in; I don't like what's happening here…”

Yamcha nodded and exited the ship with the intention of finding the woman, meanwhile, Krillin just stood in there with his arms crossed, not wanting to disturb the scientist but incapable of leaving her alone either. He was joined by his friend and Khalla a few minutes later.

“Oh, dear…” The older woman whispered. “May I ask what happened to her?” She asked in shock.

“We're not sure” Krillin replied. “I think she finally managed to listen to Vegeta's message. She didn't tell us anything, she just asked for you…”

Khalla nodded in understanding, thinking it was very possible that the beautiful woman simply wouldn't feel comfortable discussing private matters of the heart with her two male companions.

“I believe we should first remove her from the floor and place her in a more comfortable position”, the older woman finally said.

Yamcha didn't hesitate in following her suggestion and he walked again towards Bulma, who still seemed to be lost in thought, and quite unaware of her surroundings.

“Khalla is here, B.” He whispered as if she were a frightened kid. “Would you like to talk to her now?”

Those large blue eyes looked up at him again, and she nodded, stretching her arms towards him in a silent plea for help. She was so fatigued she could barely find the strength to stand up on her own two legs. Yamcha gently held her in his arms and he walked towards the ship's small living area, he sat her down on the couch and he made sure she remained wrapped protectively in her cozy blue blanket.

“Do you want something else, B.? Some tea?”

“Please…” she whispered. “And could you make another one for Khalla?”

“You got it, B.” he replied, inwardly relieved that she at least seemed to be slowly coming out of her cocoon.

Meanwhile, the woman had approached Bulma and she'd sat down next to her, silently waiting until the young scientist felt comfortable enough to talk to her. While she waited, she couldn't help but look around, admiring the advanced technology surrounding her.

“I built it for him” the heiress whispered.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Bulma?” Khalla replied, slightly startled by the blue haired woman's voice.

“Just Bulma, Khalla. You don't have to call me Miss anymore, we're friends now, right?” she said with a sad smile on her face.

“Um, of course, Bulma… What were you saying…?”

“Here's the tea!” Yamcha happily informed as he placed a small tray in front of them. He thought chamomile tea would be a good choice and it would perhaps help sooth his friend's nerves.

“Would you like some sugar in yours, Khalla?” he offered.

The older woman looked at the man, and he quickly realized she had no idea what sugar was.

“It's, uh, it's a substance we put in our drinks to make them sweeter…” Yamcha explained.

“In that case, I'll try it; thank you, young man…”

The scarred faced warrior finished preparing the women's drinks and he excused himself, leaving the ship with Krillin and going back to their provisional house, not before reminding Bulma that they'd be there in case there was anything she needed. Both women took a sip of their herbal teas, and Khalla marveled at how delicious the beverage actually was. After a couple of minutes, Bulma felt ready to talk again.

“I was saying that… That I built the ship for Vegeta…” she said in a low voice.

“Really? All on your own?” the woman replied with honest surprise.

“Not really, although I could have, it would simply have taken longer to make it… No, I made it with my dad and a few of our employees. I come from a family of scientists… Well, at least on my father's side…”

`Impressive' Khalla thought.

“So… You made this ship for Lord Vegeta so that he could leave your planet?” she asked gingerly, trying to understand the situation a little bit better.

“No…” she shook her head. “Well, yes… I mean, it is a ship but, it has other purposes too…”

“Such as?”

“You see this room around us? Well, it can also turn into a gravity room… It basically increases the density of the gravity inside the ship, and it makes it very difficult to move and even breathe in it… I built it for him, so… So he could get stronger…”

Khalla remained silent for a moment, trying to assimilate this new information. The woman had actually helped their new Lord to get stronger, which probably meant they were at least on friendly terms.

“There was a conflict on my planet… We were warned by… Uh… By someone… About an upcoming battle and all of my friends trained very hard for several years to prepare for it…” Bulma continued. She carefully avoided mentioning certain details, such as her planet's name or the Mirai Trunks story, in order to protect her home and her people from any danger; but at the same time, she felt the need to talk to this woman, to make her understand what she and Vegeta had gone through somehow. She needed some wise advice, because right now, she really didn't know what to do anymore…

“So… Lord Vegeta was your friend back then?”

“You could say that… He certainly vowed to fight by our side. Which he did,” Bulma proudly replied.

“I'm assuming you won the battle?”

“We did, although it was brutal… It turned out to be much harder than any of us had anticipated…”

“And Lord Vegeta left after the battle, I presume…”

Bulma nodded.

“Pretty much… Yeah, he did… I… He didn't really say goodbye or anything, he just…”

The heiress stopped talking, feeling her lower lip tremble. He'd really ruined her, hadn't he? There she was, Bulma Briefs, a woman that could literally have any man she pretty much wanted, and she'd managed to find herself on a frozen planet in the middle of space, chasing ghosts…

“Were you…? Were you expecting him to stay? Is that what this is all about, Bulma?”

The younger woman sighed and nodded again.

“You could say that… Yes, I… I thought he was one of us now… But… I just… I wonder if I've just been fooling myself all this time…”

“Perhaps you haven't…” Khalla retorted knowingly.

“What do you mean?” Bulma replied, her eyes widening, full of curiosity.

“Well… It always seemed to me that he… That he was one of those people that weren't exactly designed to fit in anywhere… Even if his race had survived, I… And again, this is just my opinion but, I really think he would have, at the very least, changed quite a few things about his people's costumes…”

“Did you… Did you know more Saiyans, Khalla?”

The older woman nodded.

“I did. I was young once myself, young lady…” she said with a warm, nostalgic smile.

“I actually got to see Lord Vegeta's father on a few occasions.”

“K-King Vegeta?” the heiress asked in shock.

“That's right. King Vegeta himself. It was long after the Saiyans had lost their independence; I believe his son was already under Frieza's custody at the time, and his father and a few of his people visited this planet a few times, always to retrieve whatever Frieza required back then…”

“You mean the pieces you built for him?”

“That and some other things, sometimes…”

“L-Like what?” Bulma asked, having the feeling that she wouldn't like the answer.

“He sometimes retrieved people too, Bulma. Frieza was always in dire need of personal slaves, and sometimes he sent some of his men to select a few chosen ones that would serve our Master in his personal residences.”

“That bastard…” the blue haired woman mumbled.

Khalla exhaled tiredly, and she grimaced.

“That he was… Yes… I… I lost one of my daughters that way…” she finally confessed.

“In what way? Was she one of Frieza's personal slaves too?” Bulma asked in shock, now experiencing a great deal of pity towards the woman sitting next to her. Who knew what kind of things she'd actually had to live through…

“She was. She was taken by one of the Prince's friends. I don't recall his name, he was… He was the one with no hair...”

“Nappa?”

“Yes, I believe that was his name. He was a brute…” she whispered angrily.

“I never met him, but I saw him fight once. He didn't seem to be a good man…”

`Then again, neither did Vegeta' she thought.

“He wasn't.” Khalla firmly said. “He was one of those men that seemed to enjoy abusing his power and just taking whatever he wanted… Including my daughter… He first saw her while she was working on one of our factories and… Well, I suppose he became a bit infatuated… My daughter was a really beautiful woman, Bulma. Beauty can be a curse sometimes…”

Bulma remained silent, knowing extremely well what the woman was talking about. The scientist had always been aware of her beauty, especially since she'd been one of those girls that had blossomed at such a young age, and while sometimes her good looks had helped her navigate through life, she'd also experienced a lot of unwanted attention and prejudice from those who still seemed to believe than beauty and brains were incompatible.

“So… Nappa took her for her beauty?”

“Eventually, yes… But the Prince stopped him at first…”

“How?” the heiress eagerly asked, now fascinated by the woman's story.

“Well… I guess the man had decided to take her to Frieza, but he wanted to… To, you know… To `use' her first” Khalla said with a voice laced in pain.

“Oh, Gods…” Bulma whispered in horror.

“One night my daughter came home later than usual, her wrists were wounded, full of scratches, as if she'd been fighting someone that had been holding her against her will… She was crying, very upset… She said Nappa had approached her after she'd been done with her day's work and he'd tried to… To abuse her…”

“And?”

“Prince Vegeta showed up just in time and he released my girl from Nappa's clutches, ordering her to go home… The Prince never mentioned the incident to me, but the day after, several people from our village swore they'd seen Nappa beaten up, really badly, and I'm guessing Lord Vegeta was the only one at the time that would have had the strength to fight that beast…”

An unruly tear fell from Bulma's eye.

Vegeta had saved a woman from being raped, and then he'd punished that bald bastard. That incident alone showed her that her man had some principles, even back then.

“They both left a couple of days later, with a group Frieza's men and a few people from our small town to serve as slaves.”

“They took your daughter?”

“Not yet. No… They… They came back, about two or three months later, and then Nappa took her to Frieza. She died less than a year after they enslaved her…”

“Do you… Do you know how she d-died?”

“Some kind of lung disease. My girl wasn't physically very strong, I was told the working conditions were too hard on her fragile body and she didn't make it…”

“So… Vegeta finally allowed Nappa to take her?” Bulma asked, now completely horrified about the whole story.

“I doubt it. He didn't come with him the second time Nappa visited our planet. I heard some rumors that he wasn't in good terms with his Master and Frieza had sent him away on some really dangerous mission all by himself… Of course, those were just rumors… Here, we never knew anything for sure…”

Both women remained quiet for a few minutes while they finished their drinks.

Bulma realized, once again, that the warrior had been raised in a very dark world indeed, and her father's thoughts came to her mind one more time. Could it be conceivable that Vegeta thought he didn't deserve a life filled with peace and love? He'd certainly never experienced it before, of that she was sure, and it was very possible that he simply hadn't been able to consider that option in life.

And then there was that recording.

She shivered, the memory of his voice covering her skin in goosebumps.

Yes, he'd been furious at first, clearly trying to convince her to go home, to stay away from him. But then, as he'd gradually calmed down and he'd opened himself more and more to her, she realized that he probably felt he was protecting her by staying away from her and Trunks. He'd talked about nightmares, filled with his father's voice, shaming and mocking him. That bastard! How was it even possible that Vegeta still felt indebted towards the King and his people when they'd all failed him so? He'd been just a boy, a young little boy surrounded by terrifying conditions. And yet, even though she was certain he'd done horrible things, Khalla's story confirmed what she'd suspected all along: there was more to the Saiyan Prince than met the eye. Back on Earth, Bulma had already managed to slowly bring down those walls he'd so carefully built around him over the years, and she got the feeling he'd even started to enjoy life with her and their son…

“Take care of my boy” he'd said…

His boy…

Abruptly, Khalla's voice brought her back to the present.

“Bulma, I hope you don't find me too intrusive but… Did you… Did you two have more than a friendship?”

The scientist was quiet for a moment, calculating what she should and shouldn't share about her relationship with the Prince. She knew he was now in a very powerful position, and that would make her and Trunks extremely vulnerable to anyone that would want to use them to try to hurt or manipulate the Saiyan warrior.

“No… Not really…” she finally replied. “But I admit that… That I was hoping our friendship would perhaps develop into something more meaningful in the future…”

“I see…” Khalla replied, unconvinced by Bulma's answer but not willing to push the issue any further in case she'd offend the younger woman. Whatever the case, it was pretty clear she'd succeeded in getting closer to the Saiyan Prince than anyone ever had. This should be reason enough, in her opinion, to encourage her to pursue the young man…

“Do you think he was happy on your planet with you and your friends, Bulma?”

The blue haired woman shrugged in despair.

“I guess… I used to think he was… Our planet is very beautiful Khalla, and we've mostly lived in times of peace. I believe Vegeta would have been happy with us but now… Now I just don't know! I mean, how could we compete with all of this? How?”

“What do you mean?”

“Lord Vegeta…” she said, mockery in her voice. “I mean… He is a Prince, isn't he? He probably believes he was born for this. You know, world domination… All of that… How could a quiet life on some distant planet compete with the power he holds right now…”

“Child,” Khalla firmly said. “If you believe these new circumstances have brought joy to that man's life you're truly mistaken. I… I do not presume to know what goes on inside his head but… All I know is that the man I witnessed was not a happy man, and he should have been, given the situation… You're right, he used to talk about this day even back then…”

“What day?” Bulma curiously asked.

“The day he'd take Frieza's place, of course! I was around him on a few occasions when he was younger and he used to visit our planet and, well, he was a very different man back then… He used to talk about some legend… Some kind of power that he was born to possess and he said when that happened he'd kill his Master and rule in his place…”

“The legend…” the scientist whispered… “He did, you know?”

“He did what, child?” Khalla asked in confusion.

“He did it! He became a Super Saiyan! The legendary…”

“So, it was true then?”

Bulma nodded.

“It was, yes… I like to believe I contributed a little… I mean, I know he achieved it on his own, but I built this ship so he could train…”

The older woman pondered over what Bulma just said. If her words were true, her new Lord owed the beautiful woman a large debt, and he would never hurt her no matter what.

“Are you going to keep looking for him, Bulma?” she finally asked.

“I don't know, Khalla… Honestly… I wouldn't even know where to look… And now that he doesn't have the ship anymore, I can't even track his position…” the blue haired woman replied in defeat.

“I'm pretty sure I know where he is right now…”

“What? Where?”

“I think he's on Planet Z365,” Khalla said with conviction.

“Wha… How would you know that? Did he tell you?” Bulma said, shocked that her man would have shared that information that freely.

“No, he didn't, but I heard some of the soldiers mention it as they were leaving. Plus, there have been lots of rumors about him and his men having established their main base on that planet. It used to be one of the most luxurious places owned by Frieza back in the day…”

“Really?” The younger woman said, deep in thought.

“Why… Why would he want people to know where he lives? Wouldn't that put him in great danger?” she asked worriedly.

“Not necessarily, child. No… You see? The place has great security. I believe it has some form of protective shield and not everyone can be granted permission to land on its surface.”

“Mmmm… I don't know Khalla… I don't think he'd be happy to see me now. In the recording, he… He made it clear he wanted us to go back home…” Bulma whispered sadly.

“I'm convinced he was just trying to protect you. If you're friends, I'm sure deep down he'll be glad to see you. You have nothing to lose, Bulma. If there's a chance you two could be happy together, you must try.”

“You really think so, Khalla?”

Bulma held the other woman's hand, looking for comfort and advice, her blue eyes now burning with unshed tears. Khalla squeezed back.

“I do. Bulma, I… I might not have the knowledge in science and so many of the things you know about but… But there's one thing I know, child: life is precious. This can be a dark universe but sometimes, sometimes we find beauty in it, Bulma, and we must fight for whatever happiness we can get. Lord Vegeta… I'm sure he's a man of many flaws, but perhaps he deserves another chance in life. Maybe he could share that new life with you…”

The heiress remained silent, quietly crying as she held Khalla's hand. Her mind was bursting with thoughts, fighting an internal conflict: her brain said no, but her heart… Her heart was saying yes…

And Bulma Briefs always trusted her heart.

She let go of the woman's hand, wiped her tears from her face and she stood up.

“Alright then. We'll go find that stubborn Saiyan!” she said resolutely.

Khalla chuckled, glad to see the fire back in the young woman's spirit. And as she saw her walk towards the console, sitting on the pilot's chair, she figured that the powerful man had probably fallen in love with that spirit. The girl looked physically fragile, but her mind was strong, her soul brave, and her heart seemed to be in the right place.

“OK, Khalla, would you be able to give me the coordinates of Planet Z365?” Bulma asked, looking at the computer's screen.

*********************************************

Yamcha yawned idly as he laid on his bed, covered by the cozy blankets, with his arms crossed behind his neck and his eyes staring at the ceiling.

It had been eleven days since they'd abandoned the frozen planet in search of Vegeta, and the loneliness of space was really starting to take its toll on all the inhabitants of the ship. Especially on Bulma.

This second trip had been different from the first. While before she'd shared most of her time with Krillin and him, the woman was now spending most of it by herself in her tiny cabin. She only joined them during meal times and, every now and then, to do something like watch a movie or play a card game, but mostly, the heiress had managed to isolate herself.

The scarred faced warrior got up and walked lazily towards his private shower. At least, his ex-girlfriend had repaired their ship as well before they'd departed, which meant this second trip had been much more comfortable now that they had access to hot water and heating.

Yamcha removed his clothes and he stepped into the hot shower, starting to get ready for their second adventure. Bulma had told them they would reach the planet in a matter of hours, three according to the information Khalla had provided for them. The old woman had proven to be a valuable asset. Not only had she helped them by giving them directions, but during her private conversation with the scientist, she'd somehow managed to cheer her up. By the time Bulma had left Vegeta's ship to get into their tiny house, she'd looked like a different woman, a far cry from the nervous wreck he'd seen a few hours earlier…

The man closed his eyes and he allowed himself to relax as the hot water soothed his stiff muscles, praying that they'd finally find the Prince in this new planet.

While Yamcha was in the shower, Bulma and Krillin drank some tea in the kitchenette. The woman looked different, almost anxious, and the bald warrior couldn't help but try to calm her down a bit.

“Are you OK, Bulma? Don't worry, I'm sure Vegeta will be on the next planet…” he said softly.

“I know, I can feel him…” she simply replied.

“You what?”

“I… I can't explain it Krillin, but… I can feel his presence the closer we get to the planet…”

She wasn't lying to her friend. She didn't know why or how, but for a few hours now, she'd been able to feel Vegeta's energy somehow. She thought of Piccolo and his bond theory, and she really started to believe there might have been some truth to it.

“Do you feel his ki, Krillin?”

The man frowned, trying to concentrate.

Nothing.

“No, sorry Bulma…” he replied, secretly wondering if the woman was telling the truth or if she was simply going insane.

He knew Goku had telepathic abilities, and he felt that perhaps the fact that Bulma and Vegeta had shared an intimate relationship had something to do with her strong intuition where he was concerned.

Just as he was about to ask her a few questions, he felt the ship jolt violently. He was quick enough to grab Bulma before she fell on the floor, and he heard Yamcha yelp from his room.

“What the fuck was that?” Krillin asked.

“What…?” Bulma was shaken, her legs trembling as she struggled to find her balance once again. She took a deep breath and she walked towards the console.

“We stopped.”

“What? W-What do you mean we stopped?”

“I was expecting something like this to happen…” Bulma said, trying to remain calm.

“Khalla told me the planet had heavy security.”

Suddenly they heard Yamcha's voice.

“Guys? What's going on?”

Bulma turned towards him, only to find him wearing just a white towel wrapped around his waist.

“Yamcha! What are you doing?”

“Uh? What do you mean? I almost broke my neck in the shower! What the fuck is…?”

The lights went out, and the dim emergency lights automatically went on. The travelers heard a buzzing noise and abruptly, a giant holographic screen appeared inside the ship's main room.

All three of them turned at once towards it, only to be faced by a purple skinned alien whose face resembled that of a very strange fish.

“Identification” he said in a strong monotone voice.

The earthlings stared at each other and just as Yamcha was about to open his mouth, Bulma cut him off, holding her hand in front of him.

“Let me do this” she whispered.

She then turned towards the screen, cleared her throat and she firmly said.

“My name is Bulma Briefs, and I wish to speak to your Master, Lord Vegeta”.

The alien blinked and suspiciously squinted his eyes.

“Is Lord Vegeta expecting your visit?”

“I believe he is. Very much so.”

Krillin and Yamcha witnessed the exchange of words, absolutely dumbfounded by the female's confident tone. If she was nervous or scared, she wasn't showing it, and both men couldn't help but admire her magnificent acting skills.

“One moment, please. I must go check this information with my superiors.”

The alien disappeared, but the holographic screen was still on, and the space ship almost in the dark.

“Yamcha, don't you think you should go get dressed?” Krillin said.

“Uh, yeah, sure… I'll be right back!”

Bulma tiredly sat down on the pilot's chair and the bald man soon joined her, sitting right next to her. No words were exchanged as both friends waited impatiently. About ten minutes later, the fish faced alien showed up on screen again.

“Lord Vegeta has granted you permission to land on Planet Z365. We will proceed to tow your vehicle immediately”.