Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Lost on a Dream Afar ❯ Queen of Technology ( Chapter 3 )

Lost on a Dream Afar

By Crazy Chi Chi

A/N: Yay! I'm working on this chapter strenuously, even to the point of utter exhaustion! *Vegeta growls in his sleep* Ignore him, he's the village idiot,,,

Chapter Three

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Working on some roughage and other mix mantled parts, she was the 14-year-old Queen of electronics, tirelessly working on her latest invention: a time machine. Her vivid blue hair swayed down to her shoulders, carelessly whilst her eyes focused on the task ahead. Out in the garage of Capsule Corporation, her father's multi-trillion zeni business, Bulma Briefs stood, flexing her fingers as she yawned in the midday heat.

"Its almost done!" She exclaimed, wiping some sweat from her brow. "Now if only I could find those pliers…"

Walking across the garage, she heard something that was deemed `normal' by her standards, the ominous sound of an approaching spacecraft. Her father had been working on designs that would be able to exit the solar system perhaps one day and she assumed it was her father's ship returning from yet another test flight.

CRASH! It was the unmistakable sound of a ship whose pilot had missed the landing zone. Sighing with frustration, Bulma left the garage and threaded her way through inventions, robots, and other delightful things to exit the building. Looking around, she caught the glimpse of smoke and burnt foliage about her. Quickening her pace, she turned a corner to find a charred crater about 15 meters wide and very deep; a spaceship or at least what looked like one was in the center, smoking from the heat of reentry.

"What the hell is going on?" She shouted, climbing down towards the crater. It was unlike any ship she had seen; a strange marking upon its plates and the craft itself was so small! Tripping, she fell flat on her face, as the ground about her crumbled.

Vegeta moaned softly, grunting from the impact. It had been crazy trying to find a place to land, and without much fuel he had been desperate. What had looked like a landing zone in the mist of an alien city he overshot - maybe too much?

Tearing off the straps that held him in, Vegeta no Ouji fumbled for the latch. With a hiss it began to open, revealing an alien world before him.

Looking up, wiping away the dirt from her forehead she heard the unmistakable hiss of the hatch. Stepping back, she realized that it was not any of her father's ships, not to mention any of the ships ever created on Chikyu-sei.

Amidst the steam erupting from the hatch, a shadowy figure emerged. Squinting her eyes she could make out jet-black hair reared up in a flaming manner along with a extraordinarily muscular form. As the mist died down, she gasped in the shock of a boy who looked 13 emerge, holding his left arm near his triceps and wincing, his eyes closed. Falling to his knees, she noticed that the boy had a tail lost between his suit and funky outfit. Gasping at the shock of it all, she inched forward, either by interest or adventurous intentions.

He opened his eyes, looking upwards at the blue sky with a hint of amazement. Never before had he seen such a sky, never before did the air smell crisp and sweet as it was now. Compared to Vegeta - sei, it was the paradises of paradises.

Then he heard the gasp.

Snapping his eyes down he saw her, a look of complete wonderment upon her smooth face. She looked like any other Saiya-jin except she didn't have a tail, not to mention lack of muscular density.

Checking the translator on his scouter, he began to speak in heavy breaths, "Is this Chilyu-sei?" Then he collapsed.

"Oh my Kami!" Bulma gasped, rushing forward. Reaching over, she caught him before he fell, laying him gently upon the charred soil. I need to get him help!

Grabbing her radio from her hip she radioed her father and his aides, who replied that they were nearing the crash site. Looking down at the boy, she could tell he had been in the ship for some time, due to the fact he smelled awfully foul. Poor guy, she thought, brushing a few strands of black hair away from his sharp features. Her intuitive side was intrigued to go over his ship, intending to discover its secrets. Yet here was a boy who looked hurt and the maternal instinct within her called for her to help him. Don't worry whoever you are… I'll help you!

It was days later when he finally awoke to the sounds of a heart monitor and the steady ticking of a clock. Opening an eye, he looked around curiously interested in the primal equipment somewhat. Where am I?

It took him a few moments to gather his thoughts of what occurred. Put in a ship, sent away from his father by that tyrant Freeza, he was in no mood to be trifled with. Then he remembered the crash, his arm was injured, and that girl. The girl, he remembered bolting upright, I got to get out of here!

Flexing his arms, he tore out the IV and the patches for the EKG from his chest and torso. Tearing the covers away, he realized that the chikyu-jins had done something with his clothes, for now he was in some cotton like garb - definitely not fit for a prince. Gathering his thoughts he climbed off of the bed looking for his clothing. Bakas! He mused, digging through a drawer of medical equipment, where did they put my clothing?

"Something wrong?" called out a feminine voice from the doorway. Turning he looked in surprise at the same girl he had seen when he had crashed. Tilting her head just so, she leaned against the doorway in a particular manner, "Why are you out of bed so soon? You had a concussion!"

He spoke swiftly in Saiya-go trying to communicate that Saiya-jins don't get concussions until he realized that he didn't have his scouter on. Nodding slowly he watched her for a reaction, hoping that with his Language had scared her or something like that. To be a Saiya-jin was to show no weaknesses, or so the Prince thought as he stood.

"I didn't quite get that," Replied the girl cocking her head just so. "Anyways what's your name?"

He shrugged his shoulders and then realized that she was demanding his name. A Saiya-jin Prince being asked his name; how daring! "Vegeta." He finally choked out, returning to the search for his clothes.

"Vegeta?" She said, smiling. "Well at least we're getting somewhere! My name is Bulma, B-U-L-M-"

Vegeta stopped. Does this alien girl think I'm stupid or something? Growling softly he began to tremble slightly with a burden of rage. Turning towards her, he began talking in short bursts of his language; trying to dictate how dare a girl think that the Prince was stupid.

Bulma just stared, pondering why this Boy, Vegeta, was trying to get a point across in a language she had never heard of. Sighing, she turned. "You must need some clothes, right?"

Pausing in his desperate plea of his respect, he nodded. I want my clothes! He thought trying to stare the message into Bulma.

"Follow me then!"

About 15 minutes later, Vegeta was clad in what were not his clothes. Sighing, he pulled at the t-shirt, glancing down at his ragged jeans. What am I in? This are worse than servant clothes! Gah!

"Ahhh, You look so darling!" Commented Mrs. Briefs walking into the room with a tray of tea. "I can imagine it must be fun to be out of those clothes you were before!"

Nodding slowly, he mused to himself. This is better than being with Freeza, definitely much better. I bet the fool doesn't know where I am…

"Mom!" groaned Bulma walking in, carrying something. "Leave the poor alien alone!"

"Sorry dear, I was just curious," replied Mrs. Briefs, scurrying out.

Now alone, Bulma gazed at Vegeta. He looked absolutely handsome for a alien in common Chikyu-jin clothes. Of course they had to cut a hole for his tail and whatnot, but it was definitely suitable! "Here." She stated, holding out his scouter. "I think you may need this until you learn my language better.

Clipping it on, he smirked. "Thanks."

"Yes! Now we can understand each other!"

Sitting in her lab, Bulma looked over at Vegeta with a sense of curiosity. He sat there, almost in shock at what the Capsule Corporation scientists had done to his spacecraft, Pieces of wire, jumbles of cables were amongst the chunks of metal whilst what had remained intact: his communicator.

"What's wrong?" She asked, looking at what her father had done. "We're studying your spacecraft in hopes of finding a way to explore the rest of the universe or something like that."

"You don't want to see it." He replied softly, the mechanical voice of the translator echoed in the recess. "I've been only on Vegeta-sei and it isn't pretty."

"So that's what you have to say about the universe?" She growled.

"I'm just telling you!" Vegeta snapped, swinging in his chair to and fro.

"Hmph! Is that your best shot?" Bulma exclaimed, egging him on. "Besides how old are you?"

"I'm 13, and you?" Vegeta, folding his arms up, slowed to a halt in the chair. "11, 12?"

"No!" She snapped and with that she hurled a screwdriver at him in her frustrations.

With one move, he caught it. Narrowing his eyes, causing his brows to furrow, he spoke in a direct manner. "Don't do that."

Amazed at his speed and ability, she gasped. "You caught that!"

"So?" He snorted, turning around in his chair once more. "I'm a Prince, I can do anything, like this!" With a flick of the wrist the screwdriver slammed into the wall, sticking out inches from her head. "See?"

Gasping in a moment's fright, she turned to look at the screwdriver. What aim… he's definitely strong… I should be careful….

Shown a room by one of the robot servants in the Brief Household, Vegeta no Ouji flopped on the bed by the window, closing his eyes. The communicator lay strewn on the side table - his only hope of contacting home. Turning to look at it, he mused at the thought that Freeza and his tyranny wouldn't know where he was as long as he didn't use it. The thought of alerting the dictator of the universe to his whereabouts was not at all pleasing, much less the thought of falling short of the targeted planet, Hathen, to be announced to his father.

Looking over the room, he was delighted to have his own bathroom and quite a large room with fabrics he had never seen before. The bed was squishy and soft, the window curtains matched everything else in the room and when he had looked in the closet, he found more clothes - better clothes than what he had now.

Getting up and heading for the bathroom, he was amazed at the shine of everything. Yet it was unlike anything in Vegeta-sei. No bathtub stood in the middle, instead there was a faucet high upon the wall in a covered area. Twisting the knobs brought water, both warm and cold. Disrobing he turned the water to the right position and waited for the water to warm up to his liking. Stepping in, he was naïve to the practise of self-washing. Soaps of every shape and color, even in bottles hung from a rack in the bathing area as he looked at the designs and decors of each and even tried to decipher the symbols. Hmm… he cogitated, picking out a black bottle. Opening it, he caught the hint of flowers and herbs, gagging at the feminine smell. Grabbing another bottle he smelled a trace of something he couldn't recognize and decided to dump the contents on his hair.

Rubbing the soap into his hair, he tried his best as had his servants had done. No, there were no scrub brushes, no painful brushes, which would cling to his long hair. Vegeta No Ouji, was actually grooming himself and proud of it too!

Now trying to get the soap out was a great pain, for he had put on too much. With hair dripping down his back he turned off the shower and grabbed a towel from a nearby hanger to massage the soap from his scalp. Standing behind the curtain, he began to hum.

Without much of a word, he leaned against the tile wall, closing his eyes. Nothing could bother him at the moment: the loss of his ship, being stuck on a alien planet, or the ample fact that he was a Prince of a race of warriors. Nothing mattered.

"VEGETA!" Awaking the Prince from his daydream, he heard the voice of the Chikyu-jin girl coming from behind the door. "VEGETA!" He quickly draped a towel around his midsection hoping that this was modest enough for Bulma. Never in his life had he walked out of a bathing room without something on, at least in front of dignitaries and those like that of his father.

Throwing open the door with little effort, he looked up at her, studying her features with much curiosity. He hadn't realized that she had such a small frame and such long azure hair. Cute. He ruminated, smiling inside. "Yes?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"Well, um…" Bulma couldn't believe that Vegeta was only in a towel. Practically every part viewable was chiseled muscles from his 6 packs to his triceps. "Vegeta, its um… time for dinner."

He nodded, not having the translator on, crossing the room to his closet. Ignoring her, he picked out a bright blue shirt and jeans, turning to go back to the bathroom. Yes they felt strange to him, however they were all he had until he could ask Bulma where his clothes were.

"We'll be waiting for you." She called nervously turning and fleeing the room. What's with her? He pondered, slamming the bathroom door shut with a bang. I better hurry!

Five minutes later he finally found his way to the kitchen. Modest, but simple was the design of it all, from the yellow wallpaper to the white trimming. The No Ouji was thrilled to be eating something for once, yet nervous for what foods these Chikyu-jin had. Sitting in front of a plate, nodding to the Briefs, he began to dig into his plate without blessing or a generous nod.

"Hungry?" Asked Bulma, her eyes the size of dinner plates as within a minute the prince had practically inhaled the table's contents.

"Is this all?" Asked Vegeta, turning towards Bulma. "I'm still starving."

Hours later, the lights had been turned down; all the briefs and their guest were in bed. In the master bedroom, Dr. Briefs recollected his day's work to his wife.

"Are you sure dear?" Asked Mrs. Briefs, sitting up. "Why would such a boy be a danger to us?"

"I don't fully understand it myself, however when I went over the boy's blood samples I found a strange hormone. After analyzing it my team and I have concluded that its building in his system." Taking a breather, he continued. "His genetic makeup is so primitive yet so fascinating - its as if something is about to occur within him. "

"Don't worry dear," Began Mrs. Briefs, reaching for the light, "Why, he's only thirteen!"

A/N: And so the cookie crumbles…Love all of those who read this! Hope you can read this (Duh) and review! Stay tuned for the next chapter:

Chapter 4: The start and end of a warrior