Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Anaugust Gold ❯ 08 ( Chapter 8 )

"I have to know why," Bulma burst into the room, finding Vejata's body curled over the controls. At the sudden disturbance, Vejata's eyes snapped open and she snarled, but her expression softened slightly as she realized that Bulma remained on the other side of the room.

 

"Why what?" she grumbled, climbing from the console but still standing defensively in front of it, sharp eyes looking Bulma over critically.

 

"Why you didn't do it. Why you didn't kill me," she answered, her voice strong though she felt her heart pounding as she relived the event.

 

Vejata's eyebrow arched. "Inviting me to try again?"

 

Bulma stood her ground, planting her hands against her hips. She watched as Vejata seemed to analyze her carefully, perhaps attempting to decipher her motive for asking such a question. The woman seemed much less in control of herself now than she had months before; her eyes frequently flickered to madness for moments at a time.

It had been several days—perhaps nearly a week—since Vejata had threatened to kill the woman, but most of that time they had spent avoiding contact with one another. It was only a matter of hours—perhaps a day—before they reached the Earth, and Bulma had no idea what would happen once they got there. She had decided to risk it, to find out why she was still alive despite the very fact that she posed an array of risks to Vejata if the Saiyajin did intend to reside on Earth in secrecy. And that was another question... Bulma drew her legs together, leaning against the wall in what she hoped was a casual gesture, trying not to betray her fear. "Just tell me."

 

"No."

 

"Oh, come on," Bulma sighed. "Stop being so childish. Do you have some use for me? Come on, you must."

 

"Not at present," Vejata growled. "Nothing I can think of."

 

"So why are you keeping me around? You know, when we get to Earth the only place you'll be able to stay and be sure no one will find you is my own," she asserted. "And there, I'll have all my supplies. I'll construct a way to get myself out of there, or maybe a way to contact the others..."

 

"You'll do no such thing," Vejata warned, her tail twitching behind her as she shifted her legs, crossing one over the other.

 

Bulma shrugged, feeling a rush of audacity as it seemed to her less and less that Vejata would actually do anything. "Yeah? How do you know?"

 

In an instant Vejata was directly in front of her, their bodies close enough that Bulma could feel the heat of the queen's rage. "Do you want to die?" she roared, slamming her hand against the wall just above Bulma's shoulder. Each of her labored breaths was hot against Bulma's collarbone.

 

The blue-haired woman was beginning to question her choice, but still adrenaline fueled her. "What if I do?" she grinned deviously, her voice a whisper, and she raised one hand to shove against Vejata's breastplate.

 

The queen stumbled backward in shock, though Bulma's shove had been playful, certainly not forceful enough to have disturbed the woman's balance so. Vejata stared at Bulma with wide, baffled eyes for a few moments before they narrowed once more. "Of course. With the dragon balls at your friends' disposal, you don't fear death," she hissed, "though it did appear so last time. Did you realize that no one will know to wish you back in time? Have you forgotten this?"

 

"Cabin fever, maybe," Bulma suggested, trying to emulate Vejata's mad grin. "So tell me, huh? Call it my one last wish before I die."

 

Vejata turned around, her back to Bulma. "No." Her fists shook with fury at her sides, and Bulma could hear her breathing through clenched teeth. "Now go away."

 

"Why?" Bulma asked playfully, feeling powerful.

 

A few quiet words drifted from Vejata, and Bulma was surprised she could hear them as the woman still faced away. She couldn't read the queen's face as she spoke. "I don't want to hurt you." A few quivering breaths followed and Vejata slammed her fist against the nearest wall, spider-web cracks crawling across its surface. "I can't hurt you."

 

 

...

 

 

"Trunks?" a cautious voice echoed through the meadow, and the boy's head whipped around, leaving him to be caught by one of Goten's punches.

 

"Stop it!" Trunks called out, rubbing his cheek as Goten screeched to a halt. "Didn't you hear that, stupid?"

 

"N-no," Goten shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. "Sorry, Trunks. I didn't know you were distracted..."

 

"Goten!" the voice echoed around them again, despite the distinct lack of walls in the area.

 

"Dad?" the boy looked around for his father madly. "You're back?"

 

"Nope," Goku's voice returned. "But I need you guys to bring me back. Trunks, I just talked to your dad."

 

"Is he okay?" the boy blurted, followed by, "Are you guys...dead?"

 

"Just me," Goku reassured him, laughing to himself. "I need you to find the dragon balls. You need to bring Vegeta back to Earth! He's stuck on New Vegeta right now with no way to leave, 'cept a broken spaceship that he's trying to fix."

 

"What about my mom?" Trunks asked, so many questions flashing through his mind.

 

"She's okay—she's on her way back, I think," Goku paused, perhaps thinking. "But listen," he continued, more quietly, as if he was about to tell a secret. "Vejata is on the ship with her. She's...kind of bad, now," they could almost hear Goku wincing. "You have to...I dunno...you should maybe get Bulma away from her, just in case, and...I, er...just get Vegeta back and he can help take care of it." Goku wasn't sure what needed to be done with the woman who had wounded him so—and he wasn't sure if he would be able to think straight enough to make a fair decision. "You might have to beat Vejata up," he suggested weakly, "I mean, if it comes to it."

 

"What...what happened?" Goten asked, glancing up to the sky. "How did you die?"

 

"It's a long story..." Goku started, but he knew that there was no dancing around at least the most basic of facts. Trunks and Goten could hear his hesitation. "But...she killed me."

 

"What?" his son's hands balled into fists. "She seemed okay, but—I can't believe it," his voice shook with poorly suppressed anger. Trunks patted his friend's shoulder, although his eyes betrayed his own share of fury.

 

"Guys, gather up the dragon balls and wish Vegeta off that planet and back to Earth. I dunno how soon Bulma and Vejata are getting there, but it can't be much longer."

 

"Should we skip school?" Trunks suggested, his scowl blooming into a grin at the idea. "Sounds like we might have to..."

 

"It shouldn't take you that long to gather them," and Goten guessed that his father was scratching his head at this moment. "I don't think your moms would be very happy about that either."

 

"So we shouldn't?" Goten piped up, shaking off his anger as well. His dad seemed confident that they could make things right.

 

"Er...just...use your best judgment, I guess," Goku laughed nervously. "I don't know. I trust you boys to do the right thing."

 

Trunks smirked at Goten, and the boy smiled back at him. "Okay!" they answered in unison.

 

 

...

 

 

"Damn," Vegeta sighed, glancing back and forth between the pod and the manual a few more times to confirm his suspicion before performing one last sweep of his immediate surroundings. It seemed a few of the pieces were missing entirely, perhaps destroyed somewhere along the ship's way to its malfunction. Most notably, a substantial portion of the ship's metal body was missing. He was confident he could find some of the same metal elsewhere to replace it, but it would require some searching.

 

While he had formed a plan with Goku that did not require him to take the ship back to Earth, he wanted to be ready if something went wrong—if Vejata found them before they could make the wish, or if, for some reason, there was a problem with gathering the dragon balls or with making the wish itself. It would be best for him to continue his work—perhaps it would take another day, or maybe two at this rate, but having the option open in case it was needed was his best bet.

 

The prince decided he needed to stretch his legs anyway, and climbed to his feet, giving the manual one last glance before he exited the room. He hoped he could find one sizeable piece of the metal, rather than having to meld together multiple smaller portions and pray they could hold their strength.

 

Here's as good a place as any. He turned to the next door of Vejata's private suite and powered up, kicking it in. A jolt that coursed through his body made him shudder, but he withstood it with relative ease, chuckling.

 

Before him was what seemed to be the queen's bedroom. Its trappings were relatively simple for one of her position, but based on small shards of wood and dents on the wall that had yet to be repaired, Vegeta guessed that the furniture had once been something much more ornate, only replaced out of necessity. This, he decided, must also have been the reason for what may have passed as a security system on the doors within the small inlet; at some point, it may have been regular practice for other Saiyajin to break in while Vejata slept, attempting to kill her and take the throne. He remembered vaguely such attempts made on his father during his childhood. But there was nothing of real interest in this room, and he turned to pace over to the last door in the hallway.

 

After the same procedure, he entered, and immediately noted the relative chill of this room. Bringing his arms up close against his torso, he shivered and flipped the light on to better see his surroundings.

 

As the lights flickered to life, Vegeta gasped, nearly falling backward over some tools that littered the floor as his feet slipped against a think film of ice that covered the surface in patches. Vegeta caught himself and felt his body being dragged forward across the room by what might have been sheer morbid curiosity. He pressed his hands against the glass, and immediately the frost around them began to melt. The prince drew them back almost as quickly, but not because of the immense cold of the glass.

 

"Kakarrotto..."

 

He could have been in a peaceful sleep, by all appearances, but of course the man had just spoken with him from Heaven. Sealed inside this apparatus—built crudely from spare supplies, from what he could tell—was Goku's body, colder than ice and almost paler than it, too. Vegeta bit his lip and balled his cold fist.

 

It was the first time he had seen Goku since the man had made his confession, and Vegeta bit back the sorrow that accompanied the feeling that he was somehow responsible for this, by saying what he had, sending the other Saiyajin running, lost and vulnerable, right into Vejata's scheme. He was sure the woman had thought it up on her toes, for it had been sloppily executed, poorly planned; the fact that it had failed, with Goku here, dead, was evidence of this. The queen had been lucky enough to teleport and escape on time, leaving Vegeta here as the de facto leader until he could escape. Still her plan had many holes; what had she planned on doing once she'd gotten to Earth? There she would have to reveal herself if she wanted a worthwhile fight, but then surely his son and the others would overtake her and deal with her as they saw fit.

 

Behind the ice and glass, so pale and ghostly, Goku's body appeared frail, and Vegeta's hot rage caused the ice that lined the floor beneath him to melt into puddles. Goku had exposed his feelings to Vegeta, just as the prince had demanded of him, and now here he was, exposed physically within this case—used and then hastily slaughtered by the woman who was nearly a mirror image of himself, alongside whom he'd fought monstrous manifestations of himself not so long ago. The queen's acts had been almost as heartless as theirs. Vegeta's breath hitched as he wondered if there was something inherently ugly within him, if after all these years and after even coming to peace with his life he still had the capacity to hurt as much as every thing that had been copied from him did.

 

But both the young copies' acts and Vejata's acts had stemmed from boredom, from the beings finding themselves so much stronger than those around them, having nothing to do and lashing out. And now he was, perhaps, the strongest single being in the universe, so long as Goku was dead. He had been sinking into depression with the man's absence—not madness—but in a flash recalled what he had resorted to before, when Goku had returned for just a day after seven years' absence. He had killed thousands, grinning, reveling in what he used to be, and shivered at the faintest thrill that ran through his spine as he remembered.

 

I need you back, Kakarotto. No matter how he felt about the man's feelings—he still wasn't sure how to begin dealing with them, how to treat Goku, now, with this knowledge; was afraid to even think about whether he had any such feelings toward the other Saiyajin, no matter how much he doubted he did. It would be something he would have to deal with as it came; for once, he refused to train his responses ahead of time.

 

Vegeta had no doubt that Goku would stay true to his word, would back off and leave the prince alone. But it was something to keep in mind—a very real part of their dynamic that could never be undone.

 

He turned back to the icy case, remembering one other thing that could never be undone. Vegeta's lips curled away from his teeth at the thought that Vejata had dirtied his image so, and hoped desperately that when he was revived, Goku would be able to look at the prince without thinking of what the queen had done to him. Her actions were foolish and shortsighted, were inexcusable and unjustifiable. So much in Vegeta's mind was awash in confusion, was malleable and changing, but he was at least certain of this: in her act against his rival-now-ally, she had chosen her fate. The moment they next crossed paths, he intended to show her what this fate entailed.