Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Danger in the horizon ❯ Face off ( Chapter 43 )

Chapter 43 - Face off

Note : I don't own DBZ and I am not making a profit from this.

Special thanks to: everyone who has waited so patiently for an update to come!!! I really appreciate your patience and support!!!

Just another quick note and please please read this……I have been having a great deal of trouble with accessing MMO regularly so the updates may be sporadic.

Several days past, and Bulma had seen very little of Vegeta, a situation which made her feel very detached and empty, something that she knew by their linked minds that Vegeta was feeling also. Her craving to have him near her was reaching almost epic proportions, and if it had not been for her hours of mind training and constant inventive ideas, his absence would have distracted her from focussing on anything.

The one consolation was that every night Vegeta would return to her, and Bulma knew that his first thoughts on seeing her luminescent beauty would be bury himself in her sweet flesh, to ravish her more than willing body, almost as if he was apologising wordlessly for being away from his mate. Then in the warm afterglow of their frantic and sometimes rough lovemaking, Vegeta would just hold Bulma's curvy body firmly next to his own muscular one, never speaking; both living each moment together as if it was their last, his strong fingers tracing the lines of her face, memorising the softness of her skin and the curves of her face.

On the night that they had arrived back at Capsule Corporation after the tumultuous events of previous days, Bulma had fully expected Vegeta's amorous overtures and was somewhat perturbed when what he wanted to do first was talk to her. He spoke well into the night, until the first weak rays of sun began to break over the horizon, splashing light over them as they lay on her bed covered with furs, while Bulma listened enraptured by his every word, her blue eyes wide and focussed on Vegeta's obsidian orbs as he recalled the moments immediately preceding his transformation to Super Saiyan and filled in the gaps of her still healing mind. Through the link of their minds, Bulma was able to see all that he had seen, her appearance both entrancing her and frightening her at the same time, for she looked like a ghost, a wraith. Bulma felt his apprehension at her change in appearance, he had been scared, not for himself, but for her, the tear tracks still visible on his proud handsome face as he watched the dragon manifest itself.

It had been a bolt from the blue to discover that her ki at the very moment she had locked eyes with Vegeta upon regaining consciousness had raised to such a level that a dark and powerful dragon appeared behind her, just as the golden bird appeared behind Vegeta and that she had been the trigger for his transformation, seeing in mute fascination as the two fabled creatures merged together. If she hadn't been so sure of it before, then now Bulma was absolutely certain that she and Vegeta were destined to be together from their very first meeting.

Vegeta had spoken quietly, a direct contrast to his public harshness. His velvety voice flowed like honey, giving Bulma a burst of warmth all over, as his tail gently curled around her trim waist, it's tip gently stroking her back, as Bulma's pale slender fingers brushed through his soft black spiky hair, listening to his purrs of contentment in between words. Vegetas powerful fingers had closed over the small golden symbol slung around Bulma's neck when he finally finished, asking her what the symbolism was for such an object. Bulma told him of Kami's parting words to her, words that filled Vegeta with pride.

It was true; she did have fighting spirit, almost more than a match for his own.

The mighty punch, which landed on Goku's jaw, sounded with a resounding juicy crack, giving Vegeta a reason to smirk at his opponent, his tail twitching behind him with the sheer thrill of real competition. For several days the two Saiyans had been going head to head in any isolated environment they could find after training for 2 or 3 hours in the gravity chamber at Capsule Corporation, and today had returned to the "badlands" as the harsh environment seemed to suit them both best. The purpose of course was to assist Vegeta in honing his Super Saiyan powers and Goku to just try to figure out how to manage the transformation himself. Answers were not forthcoming at this present moment as he was focussed on attempting to beat the living shit out of Vegeta, something he was not succeeding in at the present time.

When the blow connected with his now throbbing jaw, Goku shot backwards in the air for at least 50 meters before reasserting his control on his body and surging forward at Vegeta, throwing complicated combinations of punches and kicks at the still smirking Prince, looking for a gap in his defences and upon finding one, landing a powerful roundhouse kick to Vegeta's gut. Instead of pulling back as Goku was apt to do, he continued pummelling Vegeta mercilessly, shoving a powerful arm into the back of Vegeta's neck, watching with satisfaction as the royal blood started to flow in rivulets down Vegeta's face, and he grinned at the sight, his mouth curled, baring his teeth, giving him a feral appearance. Everyday, Goku came closer to realising his goal, but Vegeta was not making it easy for him by consistently beating him down just as he thought he had the upper hand in their mini battles.

And today was going to be one of those days.

Vegeta grunted as he accessed his power, feeling it was time to stop play fighting as he put it, almost hearing the click in his mind as his ki burst into golden flame, his muscles increasing in size at the same time. He could almost hear the disappointed groan inside Goku's head as he moved forward, but Goku did not back down this time, instead continuing his rampage and so Vegeta decided to give him no quarter, flexing his impressive power and matching Goku blow for blow, without any effort. Goku decided now was the time to get down and dirty; he had had enough of restraining himself and playing the game by the rules as he had every other day, his anger with being unable to beat the man in front of him making his blood boil. Deftly eluding Vegeta, he powered up to release a small but deadly Kamehameha blast at Vegeta, who blinked in surprise at the underhand tactics of his sparring partner. Vegeta's surprise only lasted a nanosecond before his handsome face regained it's trademark smirk and he blocked the blast, countering it quickly with a low powered Gallic Gun blast, which Goku barely had time to block.

"Finally Kakkarot! You are acting like a true Saiyan!" He ground out harshly, albeit reluctantly at the sweaty and blood covered Goku.

Goku puffed momentarily, but still kept up his defences, not allowing the grudging praise distract him at all. "Thanks, I think." He grunted out, strangely sarcastic, at the same time satisfactorily giving Vegeta a nice crisp uppercut, bloodying the Saiyan Princes nose further. The scent of blood in the air seemed to change Gokus persona totally, his Saiyan roots coming through, his very being baying for the blood of his rival, putting all of his strength into every attack and for the barest of seconds, Vegeta saw the tinge of gold around Goku.

Vegeta continued to watch through narrowed eyes, alternately blocking and attacking himself as he witnessed the change in Goku, which would have been barely perceptible to any other creature, knowing that soon this Earth bound third class Saiyan would transform and become the second in a thousand years to claim the title of Super Saiyan, but strangely his pride did not seem to be dented by the inevitable event, in fact internally he welcomed it.

The Saiyan race would survive through him and his 2 full-blooded subjects and they're off spring.

Vegeta had the knowledge of how the transformation could take place now, but Goku's trigger would be very different from his own, as he well knew. While Goku would be doing it alone, Bulma had been part of his own ascension; she was the light side of his soul, giving him the strength to resist the dark side of his nature, part of his fighting spirit. She had unleashed his long suppressed emotions, letting him see that to feel was not weak and never would be. Vegeta could feel in the deep recesses of his mind her feeling of isolation as he left each day, but she understood like any good warrior the reasons why, overriding her own desire to have him stay. She is truly part of my blood and my soul…..I beg you of you, the Gods of Vegetasei and the Guardian of Earth, never let her be taken from me……or the universe will pay the price……

Vegeta would not give any clue or assist in any way towards Goku's progress; he had decided that he would have to figure it out on his own.

Jock Briefs hurriedly exited his personal lab area in search of Bulma, his white lab coat flapping behind him like a seagulls wings as he ran haphazardly up the little used stairs ignoring the elevator, making his way towards Bulma's second level quarters, frantically calling her name.

"Bulma! Bulma!" Jock panted as he finally located his erstwhile and headstrong daughter in her personal library, hunched over a small table, scribbling down schematics for a new type of equipment that she strongly felt would assist in the battle to come, one that would surely obliterate the need for the magical sensu beans the z warriors habitually used. Before settling down to do what she did best, invent things, Bulma had spent the best part of her morning organising replacement clothing for Vegeta as his usual training attire was wearing out and the earth style clothing did not fit him properly. And so with the mundane job of replacing clothing and the complex ideas for helping the z warriors, Bulma shut Vegeta from her mind, although only briefly, letting him concentrate on the defeat of the greatest demon in his mind, Freeza, and her on assisting him.

Bulma looked up, a little startled by her fathers dishevelled appearance, wondering what could have made the normally unflappable doctor act in such a manner. "Deep breaths Dad," she replied calmly patting the free space on the overstuffed red sofa next to her, putting aside the pad and pencil to give Jock her full attention, "Sit down and catch your breath."

After sitting down and allowing his heart rate and breathing to slow down, Jock finally explained to Bulma what was so urgent that he burst in such an undignified manner. "There's big trouble headed our way, Bulma." He puffed out, taking his now steamed up glasses from his nose and regarding her with his pale blue eyes, which were full of concern as his frightened feelings washed over her. This made Bulma sit up and listen immediately, a cold chill of fear snaking down her spine, making her shiver involuntarily, her first thought being that Freeza had or was about to arrive. We need more time…….. "What is it, Dad?"

"Satellites have just picked up a very large asteroid heading directly towards Earth and will arrive in less than 3 days according to calculations. The panic is not that it will hit the Earth; in fact the shield will ensure that it does not make it through. The concern here is Station Delta." There were at least 50 former employees of Capsule Corporation on Station Delta working as technicians or scientists, all now quite possibly fated to see death come for them and Jock Briefs knew each one by name, each one like a family member to him.

Bulma's eyes widened at the statement coming from her father. Station Delta had no capability to transport itself to another location in the space around Earth, as it had never been the purpose for such a facility to move around in space, and therefore it was in the direct path of the asteroid heading for Earth. "So, what does that mean?" She asked, scared of the answer that she would receive. "Will they evacuate?"

"Yes." Jock let out a breath of relief, pleased that provisions had been made for the staff, which would ensure that the death toll would most likely end up being nil. "However," He continued, wiping his glasses on his coat and replacing them on his nose, not happy about what he was about to say. "The evacuation will only be for staff and approved refugees, the recent arrivals and those who have not been approved for resettlement will have to fend for themselves, I'm afraid."

Bulma paled, taking in what her father had said. If she had still been on Station Delta at this time, then she would have been evacuated. However, Radditz and Vegeta would not have, therefore they would most likely have met their respective deaths, not knowing what was coming. She swallowed, feeling a lump rise in her throat, brushing her shaky hands through her feathery blue hair, before asking a question, knowing that as the most powerful company on the planet they would be roped into helping in any way. "What does the world government want us to do to help?"

Jock Briefs rubbed his forehead to try and relieve the tension building up in his head, bringing on one of his many migraines. "Well, there will be a lot of refugees coming in, and the world government have all but ordered Capsule Corporation to provide lodging for them until more suitable accomodation can be found, it's a disaster of epic proportions, Bulma." Bulma opened her mouth to protest, but Jock held up a hand to still her possibly angry words. "Also it is requested that we have a representative to greet them as they arrive, and to be their point of contact while on Capsule Corp grounds."

"Are you suggesting that I be the representative?" Bulma angrily asked, unhappy at possibility of such a role being foisted on her.

"No." Soothed Jock, "I was hoping that you could make a suggestion, Bulma." He looked upon his daughter with loving eyes, perhaps now accepting that she was a woman who made her own decisions in life.

Bulma allowed the briefest glimmer of a smile pass her face at her father's words. If it were not for the impending threat of Freeza and the possibility of losing Vegeta to the tyrannical lizard, then she would have volunteered for the position. She was not selfish, just a realist. Vegeta was the most important person in her life right now.

She frowned, chewing on her lower lip, trying to come up with a suitable candidate for such an important position. "What about Victor?" She finally offered, "He's the VP, a man who commands respect and can accomplish the task with as little fuss as possible."

Not to mention it will keep him occupied and his mind off Amanda…..

During the time she, Chi Chi and Amanda had spent together while Vegeta discussed tactics with the other men, Bulma had discovered that Victor had not yet let go of Amanda, and his mental status at discovering her new relationship with Radditz was to put it bluntly, verging on the insane, judging by the frenzied disagreement in Victors office several days ago. Anything could happen. And so to put him in this position would keep the peace, although Bulma could sense somehow that it would only be a temporary respite.

Jock leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes, musing on the person nominated. "Victor…….yes. I think he will be best qualified for this. You will have to take on some of his work though Bulma to ensure that Capsule Corporation keeps running smoothly, a job you are more than capable of."

Bulma sighed even though she was aware that her father would say that, certain sacrifices had to be made, after all. "Agreed. When will the evacuation take place?"

"Tomorrow. Any travellers or refugees arriving today will be allowed to dock, but will remain isolated from the general populace so as not to spark any mad panic or suspicion amongst the unapproved refugees if they are not allowed entry to the station. As far as I am aware, all available ships will be given to those who remain behind, allowing them to escape from the station before the moment of impact. It has been carefully orchestrated so that those who are not coming through will most likely be advised of an outbreak of a lethal virus or some other distraction, and will be well away from the area when the asteroid hits." He took a deep restorative breath before carrying on. "It's a bit harebrained as plans go, but it should work, as long as it all goes according to plan. The station director Richard Evans, has a few other ideas up his sleeve, which he may or may not have to use to achieve full evacuation. The remaining people will be directed to a prearranged point above the shield, which will then be deactivated long enough to allow all approved craft through a portal. The shield staff will be checking off ship registration numbers as they pass through."

Bulma sat back, suddenly drained of energy after taking in all the information from her father. There were possible flaws with the plans made, but with limited time on hand; it was the only way to save so many lives, which were at stake.

"Would you like for me to speak with Victor about his role?" Bulma asked softly, knowing deep inside that her father would prefer her to inform his vice president, in effect forcing her to have a more active role in the company. It had always been what he wanted, his brilliant daughter to marry well and head the company to let him retire finally, but with recent events and Bulma's involvement with a certain alien had scuppered those dreams for Jock Briefs.

"Would you?" Jock replied evenly, rising from his seat and making his way to the door. "I'd like to get back to my lab."

"Yes, I'll do it, but" Bulma paused in her sentence trying to gauge the right way to tell her father of her long term plans and she felt ashamed as Jock's face fell, "this is a temporary position for me. When it is all taken care of and Freeza is defeated, Vegeta and I will be leaving."

"F, for how long?" Came the plaintive stuttered reply from Jock. He had known deep in his gut that his little girl would someday leave the roost, but that didn't mean that he had to like it, or stop himself from attempting to prevent such an action.

Bulma lowered her head, unable to look her father in the eyes as she struggled to answer. "I don't know." She whispered, looking down at her hands, feeling the wave of anger and disappointment from her father wash over her. "I know that this is not the best time or place……." She did not need any special skill to be able to sense that, it was written all over his stricken face.

Jock's face had tightened at her words, his heart obviously broken. He spat out his next words angrily, cutting off her explanation. "We will discuss this later Bulma. You and I need to talk, without him there." Jock then turned his back, not wanting Bulma to see the tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he shuffled away, a broken man who had lost his only child to a murderous alien.

Zarbon sighed in relief as he sighted the familiar shape of the massive space station, his new safe haven, well at least until he had the means to land on Earth. His facial appearance, while not back to his handsome best, was passable having healed satisfactorily during his brief sojourn in space trying to evade Freeza and his hired thugs, his hair, however was another story altogether. It had so far refused to grow back quickly, remaining as the close- cropped style he had been forced to adopt on his enforced escape. Fussily adjusting his clothing, Zarbon tensed for several seconds, allowing his skin to expand and allow his more lizard like form to emerge fully, thus giving him the perfect disguise while scoping out a feasible plan to get him through the Earth shield. He had also changed his clothing slightly, discarding most of the fine clothes and his jewellery, while still retaining his expandable armour for ease of transformation, looking more like a simple traveller, than an until recently highly paid mercenary. Added to that, Zarbon had also endured the pain of surgery on himself to remove the implant imbedded in his body during his first visit to the station while he was on the trail of Vegeta and his two underlings, and his scaled fingers lightly traced the ugly scar on the underside of his upper left arm, something else that marred his former masculine beauty. Zarbon winced as he looked into the cockpit glass reflection, recoiling at his monstrous appearance. He hated to resort to such cheap trickery to achieve his goals, but with the recent events, which he was a part of at Station Delta, this was the only way.

With the docking of his ship finally complete on the second level, Zarbon was instructed to enter the quarantine area and wait for the arrival of an interviewer. Zarbon knew that along with the interviewer, a tech assistant would be along for the ride and bring a squad of heavily armed and shielded personnel known as the security detail for protection, so he had to not let anything incriminating about himself slip and remain on guard without arousing suspicion. To his surprise several minutes later, a mechanical sounding voice crackled over the small speaker set into the door and Zarbon was advised that he would be left in the quarantine area for a full day, due to a shortage of qualified staff to handle his case. Food would be provided soon and the final words were an apology for the delay. The message was repeated several times in many of the languages of the universe, as the staff had not yet implanted the necessary technology for him or any other recent arrivals to understand Standard. Of course they had no idea yet anyway, that Zarbon had already been at Station Delta before and was fluent in Standard language.

Zarbons fine eyebrows quirked up at the statement and his gut instincts, so finely honed in Freezas service told him that something was amiss. In his last visit to Station Delta, there had been no shortage of staff, in fact it had seemed as if there were too many people working there. He could not however relax completely and return to his less gruesome appearance, as his cover story would be blown when someone did come to see him. All he could do now was wait until food was provided and then maybe some answers would be forthcoming, and so Zarbon sat down on the hard bench, laced his hands behind his head and decided to play the waiting game.

With a heavy heart, Bulma made her way into the inner sanctum of the Capsule Corporation science division heading towards Victor's office to give him the assignment. Her father's harsh words had cut to the quick; slashed her from within. It had not been an appropriate time or place to tell her father that she would not be staying for long, in fact Bulma had wanted to have the support of Vegeta there when she informed her mother and father at the same time. Her entreaties to explain there and then had failed to make a mark on her stubborn father, as his dislike of Vegeta was obvious.

The door to Victor's office was firmly closed and his personal assistant scurried up to Bulma to advise her that Victor was working on a new and important project and would prefer not to be disturbed. Bulma took a deep breath before preparing to ball the obviously nervous man in front of her out, because after the shit her father had laid on her she was not in the mood for a mere underling ordering her around. "I don't care if he is finding the cure for cancer in there, David," She intoned waspishly, looking at his name badge, "Let Mr Anderson know that Ms Briefs is here to speak with him on a very urgent matter, now!"

The corpulent young man paled visibly and stuttered for a moment before profusely apologising and contacting Victor via the intercom to let him know that Bulma Briefs, heiress to Capsule Corporation was at his door and needed to speak with him on an important matter.

Bulma didn't wait for Victor to open the heavy door, instead she just ploughed right in, and the sight awaiting her was a real shock. Victor had obviously not left the office for at least a day. His eyes were bloodshot, and the stubble of several days' growth marred his jaw. The smell of alcohol was heavy in the air, making Bulma wrinkle her nose in disgust as she entered and sat down on a chair, as far away as humanly possible from Victor.

"Sorry bout the mess, Bulma." Victor slurred, loosely holding onto a crystal tumbler of whiskey, his head slumping downwards. "Jus' had a lot on my mind lately…."

"So I can see." Bulma replied crisply, but not unkindly. It seemed that Amanda's fears were correct, Victor was loosing his grip on reality and if he continued in this vein, then it wouldn't be long before he would require the assistance of alcohol to function on a day to day basis, either that or a strong daily dose of anti depressants. She crossed her legs and composed herself before continuing, once again looking at Victors booze sodden appearance and grimacing. "My father has an important assignment for you, Victor, so put down the booze and listen."

But Victor wasn't listening; instead he stared blankly at Bulma for an instant before his gaze rested back on the picture of Amanda on his desk. "She left me for an………alien, Bulma………why? What does heeee have that I don'…?"

Bulma's patience had finally run out, what with her fathers harsh judgement of her, the absence of Vegeta, the machinations of a jumped up little git of a personal assistant and a drunken foul smelling vice president, so, gritting her teeth and leaning forward, she slapped Victor around the jaw, watching with satisfaction as the mist appeared to fade from his eyes and a stark red welt rose on his lightly tanned skin.

"Back in the real world now, Victor?" She snapped, her voice even and dangerous. Bulma did not need to have the Vice President of her fathers company acting like a wino on the street, forcing her to take on the unwanted assignment. "I don't have time to fuck around right now, so listen up. Firstly, Amanda isn't your wife, and hasn't been for a year- get over it! Secondly," Bulma held up a hand to halt whatever Victor was trying to slur out and continued in her venomous tirade. "Secondly, alcohol is prohibited in any area of Capsule Corporation except in the living areas. Thirdly, we have been requested by the world government to take care of a large group of refugee aliens who will be arriving in about a day, and you are the man who has been selected for the job of representative." She wrinkled her nose as the stench of Victors unwashed body assaulted her nostrils. "And finally, you stink! Get into a fucking shower! Got all that?"

Victor stared back at the irate woman before him, his eyes wide with fear and surprise. He had been aware of Bulma's awesome temper but had never been on the receiving end before. He blinked several times as if clearing his vision before he finally found his voice, carelessly dropping the bottle of whiskey in the wastepaper basket as he replied, feeling suddenly sober and leaned on his hands on the large desk, fixing his attention on finding out what the job of representative entailed. "Okay, you made your point Bulma. Give me all the details, slowly please." Victor replied, trying to keep his voice even without slurring. He then pressed the button on his intercom and asked David to bring in some hot black coffee. It looked like he'd need a lot of caffeine, it was going to be a long and involved meeting with Bulma and he did not relish the thought of her exploding at him again.

Hours passed as if they were days for Zarbon. His patience was running thin, now and had not seen or heard from any living thing. The air in the quarantine area was now becoming rank and stale from his accumulating sweat, a condition Zarbon as a very clean type of creature hated. He dared not wash himself for the reason that he would most likely relax and reveal his true identity not remaining in the disgusting lizard disguise he was in currently. His main objective now was to find out why he was being held for so long and to get out as soon as possible.

Zarbon started to pace like a caged tiger, his clever and inventive mind starting the process of coming up with a feasible and effective way of escaping his enforced captivity. As he walked up and down the small area, a small hiss behind him attracted his attention. Slowly he turned and his golden eyes rose, searching out the source of the sound, before they came to rest on a very small, almost unnoticeable ventilation grille set high into the wall above his head. A fine mist was quickly being dispersed into the small area and Zarbons sensitive sense of smell told him immediately that this was some type of gas, designed to put him to sleep, but he could not figure out what the purpose of such an action was. Stumbling slightly in his haste to avoid too much contact with the gas, Zarbon laid himself on the floor, making sure that he was in a very awkward position to allow him to feign the act of sudden unconsciousness. Very slowly, he shut down his body to the bare minimum, putting himself once again into a state of temporary suspended animation. He kept his eyes open, knowing that he would then have the advantage over whoever was to come in and move him, and so like a crocodile lurking in a swamp ready to snap at it's prey, Zarbon waited.

The director of Station Delta nervously tapped his long fingers against his keyboard in an attempt to quell the sense of nausea rising within his ageing body. For many years he had been at the top of his game, a brilliant administrator and CEO given the ultimate job, that of being in charge of Earth's very first space station. But in the past couple of weeks, Richard Evans had started to feel his age. First there was the so called abduction of Bulma Briefs, a refugee had been killed then his body had mysteriously disappeared, a ship had been stolen, another technician had been abducted, then to cap the whole stinking mess off, an asteroid, the size of two football fields had gone undetected and was now on the way to destroy his pride and joy, Station Delta. It was wonderful that everyone was to be evacuated and the Earth Shield would repel the asteroid from the Earth, but Station Delta, the shining example of human advancement, would be no more, instead pieces of it would be scattered about the galaxy like ordinary space trash.

Very reluctantly, Richard had given the order to have all new arrivals and those unapproved for entry onto Earth put into a deep sleep and then placed on the ships not being used for the large-scale evacuation to get them well away from the area.

It was very risky, but necessary. All of those refugees that had been on the station for only a short time had been summoned to a meeting ostensibly to let them know about their status and whether they would be allowed to enter Earth society when the Earth Shield opened again in approx ten months. What they got was a dose of gas, and a first class ticket with a fully stocked ship at their disposal. It was to be the same for the recent arrivals also, placing them back on the transport they had arrived on, all ships being put on autopilot for the journey.

His bones creaking in protest, Richard rose from his chair and collected up his personal belongings, encapsulating them to save space before throwing a last glance at his home and leaving to take charge of the final stage of the operation. He would miss his home in the stars more than he realised and knew that such an opportunity for him would never arise again.

It would soon be time to leave.

Vegeta landed softly in the grounds of Capsule Corporation, bloody and tired, yet elated at the impressive workout he had gone through during the day. His own power was increasing by the day, and Goku was very close to the edge of the immense power himself. The younger Saiyan was beginning to impress him despite all of Vegeta's efforts to try and continue to think of Goku as a third class weakling who in any other circumstance would not be fit to lick his boots. Now with all of the outside influences in his life, Vegeta was starting to look at Goku with a modicum of respect.

Shivering slightly in the cool night air and diverting his attention to more attractive matters, Vegeta's eyes automatically lifted to the second level of the Briefs house, searching out his mate. His mouth curved into a small smile as he saw Bulma inside her bedroom, the artificial light behind illuminating her body as she tensely stood, looking out for him in front of the French doors. He rose into the air, high enough to place himself on the balcony of his and Bulma's bedroom, smirking at the expression on her face as Bulma's blue eyes alighted on his torn and bloody form. A wicked smile graced her mouth as she patently ignored him, instead staring out past Vegeta and looking at the stars in the night sky. It was perfect timing as always as Vegeta returned, in truth Bulma needed some relief from the tension that had built up from the days stresses and strains. There was no need to tell Vegeta all that had transpired during the day as the link between their minds reactivated, each mind telling a story without words. They would talk later.

Bulma was purposely making the Saiyan Prince wait to be let in, although she knew full well that at any time he could just burst through the locked doors.

Vegeta growled at her, his tone broking no dissension, as his mind opened up to Bulma, showing her just what he wanted to do when he got hold of her, conscious that she craved a release from the tension and that he was the one to relieve it. A myriad of images with Vegeta running his powerful hands over her glorious curves, ripping off her clothing and making her scream out his name with passion, caused the liquid heat between her legs which had been there at the first sight of his battle ravaged body, intensify sharply. Sighing melodramatically, and resisting the urge to pounce on Vegeta, Bulma turned the key in the lock and pulled the door open, a knowing smirk to match Vegetas on her beautiful face, and watched as Vegeta walked in slowly, holding back his lust, unlike every other night upon his return.

Wordlessly, Bulma walked away from him, shedding her clothing as she entered the bathroom, stealing little glances at Vegeta's lust filled gaze. Now completely naked, Bulma stopped at the door, turning her head back to him around the doorframe and huskily whispered, "Coming?" as her mind projected back an image of her orally pleasuring him.

That was all the encouragement Vegeta needed, and he all but tore his clothing and boots off, padding quietly to the bathroom, his tail swishing behind him in anticipation. The bathroom was lit not by the normal lamps, but by large cream candles and the bath had already been filled with steaming hot water and the candlelight cast a golden glow over Bulma's nakedness. Bulma lowered herself into the huge round bath, an involuntary sigh of ecstasy escaping her full lips as the warm water caressed her skin. Vegeta walked towards her, his dark eyes drinking in her flushed and glistening skin, her full pink lips, her large firm breasts, his manhood growing stiffer with every step he took towards Bulma. Tonight it appeared that she wanted to initiate their lovemaking, and Vegeta was ready to enjoy every moment of it despite his tiredness.

As his muscular legs came into contact with the smooth white porcelain bath, Vegeta made a move to enter the bath, but Bulma had other ideas. She moved gracefully through the steaming water and placed her small hot hands on Vegeta's buttocks, directing his now engorged manhood to be moved gently into her warm and willing mouth. Slowly Bulma moved her mouth around Vegeta's penis, one hand disengaging from his buttocks and gently massaging his testicles, the other stroking the base of his tail, enjoying the moment as a groan of pure pleasure leaked involuntarily from Vegeta's mouth, his fingers tangling in her slightly damp hair, brushing against her bonding mark. Gradually Bulma increased the pace with her mouth, bringing Vegeta almost to the point of no return, before she gave his manhood one last lick with her wet tongue and moved back immersing herself to her neck in the water, pulling a very willing Vegeta in with her. "You'll pay for that, Bulma." He murmured hoarsely as he pushed Bulma up against the side of the bath, raising her slick body above the water with his hands, placing his body between her legs, before lowering his head to lick and suckle at her firm breasts, her little cries of pleasure like sweet music to his ears, as his firm hands caressed her back and neck.

Vegeta could feel the heat grow between them, as Bulma's hips rose again and again, rubbing against his erection, showing that she too was desperate for release. Vegeta quickly moved his mouth away from Bulma's now hardened nipples and turned her around so that her breasts were now pressed against the cool porcelain, her arms hooked over the side of the tub as Vegeta plunged himself between her legs, his painfully hardened manhood soothing itself in the soft wet heat that their foreplay had generated. Vegeta thrust quickly in and out of Bulma, and she cried out his name over and over again, her legs hooking around his waist, the water now splashing over the side of the bath onto the floor with the force of his thrusts.

Without any warning, Vegeta withdrew and Bulma groaned as the wonderful sensations subsided, then Vegeta moved Bulma around to face him and plunged himself once again within her so that she was now resting on his lap, her long firm legs hooked around his waist once more. The look of pure rapture on her face was a sight to behold with her lips parted and her eyes darkening as her first orgasm approached, her warm walls firmly squeezing Vegeta as her skin flushed and she pressed her mouth against his, their tongues entwining as the waves of pleasure rode over them both, her pale legs clutching him almost painfully. Slowly Bulma opened her eyes, running her gaze over the dark prince beneath her, his own black eyes gazing back with a fierce hunger, displaying that he was not finished yet. Gently he resumed his thrusting, eager to bring Bulma to release once again before he was satisfied, wanting to hear her cry out his name once more.

Zarbon didn't have to wait long.

A station worker clad in a full biohazard suit and mask came in alone only about 5 minutes after the gas was dispersed, pulling a stretcher behind him. No security detail had been assigned to accompany him as it was assumed that there would be no threat. Carefully the worker circled what he believed was a totally unconscious Zarbon, deciding how best to heft the rather large form onto the stretcher without doing himself an injury. Zarbon's open eyes did not attract his attention as many of the other new arrivals eyes had remained open also, once the sleeping gas had entered their systems. He turned away, mumbling about the rotten luck he had in this job to grasp the stretcher and fully intended to haul Zarbon onto it, or at least he would have.

Zarbon seized his only chance, moving slower than he would have liked due to some of the gas working its way into his system and the effort of reanimating himself, and swung a powerful arm around the man's neck putting him into a virtually unbreakable headlock. Zarbon dragged the struggling man backwards, tore off his mask, and whispered quietly into the terrified mans ear, his arm tightening almost unbearably against the workers neck. "You scream Earthling - you die. Got that?"

The worker nodded, his head movements shaky from fear. He could feel the icy threads of fear work through his veins and his stomach lurched, threatening to eject its recently arrived contents. "Now tell me what is going on……and don't lie…." Zarbon whispered again, keeping on eye on the door in case a security detail decided to happen along and gatecrash his little party.

The worker spilled the beans, his voice hoarse from fear and the compression Zarbon exerted on it, mentally praying to God to protect him. He was a strong man himself, but this creature far outstripped him, and he could do nothing to stop it. As the man's words came haltingly from his petrified mouth, Zarbon smiled. He now had the means to get to Earth and, to Bulma. Looks like I win this round Freeza…..look out Vegeta, my revenge is at hand….

The worker finished his spurt of information and relaxed, foolishly thinking that Zarbon would let him go. Zarbon quickly considered whether to kill the man or just knock him out.

He chose the former of the two options.

Deftly he snapped the workers neck, before the man had a chance to pathetically beg for his life, then realising the shortness of time, Zarbon swiftly disrobed his victim and himself, allowing his own body to return to its normal proportions noting with satisfaction that he and his victim were almost the same size, making the job easier. He clothed himself in the dead mans clothes, searching in his pockets for identification and any other items that would be of use to him. Zarbon grinned as he found the dead mans i.d. card and the number of the ship that he had been assigned to for the evacuation on the next day. He then donned the biohazard suit over the top of the clothes, and glanced again at the dead mans i.d. card, realising with a degree of horror that it had a digitised photograph on it.

To at least get out of the quarantine area, Zarbon had to undertake what was possibly the most disgusting thing he had ever done in his long life. Peeling off another mans face to use as his own. Although the mask would have disguised most of this face without the dead mans skin, it was still too risky to attempt anything without it.

Biting the bullet, Zarbon began the gruesome task of removing the dead mans face, his gorge rising as thick dark blood seeped out and the skin pulled away from the bone and muscle with a juicy sucking sound, until finally it was done. Using the cloak he himself had worn on arrival, Zarbon cleared away the blood and swallowing heavily, placed the wet, now slightly bloody skin over the top of his own, making sure it adhered well to his own face, tucking the loose skin of the neck into the collar of the workers shirt, before pulling up the hood on the suit and firmly fixing the gas mask in place to complete the temporary deception.

His intention was then to take the body down to the incinerators and dispose of the body completely, then to find the ship his victim was to leave on and hide himself there overnight. Zarbon was betting on the general confusion that evacuations normally brought and no one would be any the wiser that a station worker had been murdered.

Carelessly, he dumped the now clothed body onto the stretcher and covered it with the cloak, ensuring that no trace of blood seeped through the fabric and strapped the body firmly onto the stretcher, then exited the quarantine room, flicking his eyes around to check that he had not left a trace of foul play behind.

No one would discover his crime until it was too late to do a thing about it, and despite the fact he was now wearing another mans face, Zarbon smiled ghoulishly.

Everything was going well……