Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Never Meant to Love Him ❯ The Samorian Untied Alliance ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: Yeah I don't own DBZ :P

The Samorian United Alliance

The air inside the gravity room was heating up as the morning sunshine now permeated the metal structure, but the atmosphere was deceiving in its warmth. The tension stuffed into the globed room could have given the impression that the gravity was switched on to its maximum, it was that intense, and Bulma would have been no more mobile if it had. After having resumed her uncomfortable seat on the tiled floor with the determinedness that had brought her this far in the first place, the feeling had wavered.

Vegeta's presence was enough to sober anyone's delusions of being in control. His eyes demanded attention, fear, and ultimately power. They distorted all thoughts that Bulma could muster, making her feel utterly powerless. It was a truth that compared to him physically she was, but for him to so easily stupefy her mind as well, now that was talent!

Right now he was circling the room, his eyes still holding hers. It looked as though he was trying to read through her, trying to depict something from her posture or look that would give him a reason to retreat. What was she supposed to do to get the apprehension to go away, to let him know that it was right for him to continue? Because even as he stared, she might not be able to see the indecision in his countenance, but she could hear it, in the irregular breathing that belied him.

It forced her to do something she didn't think she was capable of under the power of that obsidian gaze - speak. "V-Vegeta…?" Her voice was unsteady, but it was enough to break the connection, which had held them both under an unnatural spell.

Blinking a couple of times Vegeta seemed to suddenly become aware that the tension had given away more of his uneasiness than it should have, and the top lip of his beautifully crafted mouth lifted into a sneer as he walked with posture and pride toward the computer.

The screen still dominated the room and after he had found the appropriate files the picture flashed on it. Vegeta shifted his view from the keyboard to the screen, standing in such a way that his presence was little more than a crowd of darkened shadows. His back was facing Bulma, just turned enough to let her see the very edge of his face. He stood a couple of feet in front of her, only shifted to the right enough so she could view the screen. To her amazement the footage gracing her eyes (once she had pulled them away from Vegeta) was familiar.

"Vegeta why are you showing me this? I've already seen this file." She said with a hint of confusion. Hadn't she come back in here to see Samoria? Why on HFIL was he showing her the planet he had stopped at before he ripped the camera from the space pod and taken up his drastically addictive adventure into reality TV. What did he plan on showing her on this tape she had missed before? One thing was for sure though, there was no way she was watching that blasted metal hanger for the second time in twenty-four hours! "It almost sent me into a coma," she grumbled under her breath.

His head tilted to the side allowing her to see a flash of canines, "Why ask me to show you about Samoria if you have already seen it?" he retorted smoothly, allowing a certain amount of amusement to seep into the words, letting her know that he had been expecting the reaction. "If you are such an expert then perhaps my presence here is no longer required."

"You mean this planet is Samoria?"

His only reply was a curt nod of agreement.

"Oh" she replied not knowing what to say, leaning back and preparing to be bored afresh.

The film proceeded as it had before. Vegeta could just about be seen exiting the pod, being welcomed by a small group of strangely unguarded men, all dressed up in weird but expensive looking clothing. As far as she could see they looked not too dissimilar to humans. The only difference was that they stood a full four feet higher than Vegeta, but with no apparent strength to go with it as their bodies were even slighter than hers.

A flash of movement nipped at Bulma's peripheral vision, and her eyes trained up Vegeta's body as he walked forward. "Computer freeze image," he commanded "Here," a white-gloved finger pointed to the creature in the centre of the picture, "That is Chancellor Ominak. He is leader of the Samorian United Alliance."

There was an awkwardness in Vegeta's bearing that didn't seem to fit with his usual character, and he raked a hand tiredly through his hair. "We have been acquaintances for several years. My father held him in high esteem, I even believe they were friends."

He paused looking out of the window, seemingly wanting to look at anything other than her as he spoke, "The Samorians have always held great power within the known universe. They have the ability to shift between dimensions, combined with unimaginable psychic and magical aptitude, making them a force to be reckoned with. They are, however, a placid race, very similar to Chikyu-jin's in their values."

Vegeta paused to show his disgust to the last part, and Bulma took the chance it presented to speak, "What is the Samorian United Alliance?"

"That all depends on who you ask. Frieza alluded to it as mythological rebel movement, dreamed up by the weak to give a reason to fight his reign, but then again he said that about the legend of Super Saiyan as well. He knew of the Samorians and had taken great care in planning their annihilation. To those of us who knew better they were hope incarnate. Before Frieza began forging his empire onto the universe, they controlled and regulated all space travel within it. They were the equivalent of a universal watchdog, they moderated it all in conjunction with the guardians and Kais of each sector. The Samorians as I understand it worked under the dictation of the four Kais, being in kind, their silent army, giving a physical presence the Kais could not. As Frieza's empire increased, they tried their best to curb his progress, but it was an impossible task even for beings of their ability. They were forced to retreat into an alternative dimension and work out how to combine their powers to overthrow him. They just vanished, leaving the universe to its own fate."

Vegeta stopped his speech momentarily to glance at Bulma, the anger of their actions clearly written over his features. She didn't really notice it though; her brow was furrowed as she tried to comprehend all he was saying. "How…?" She paused before she tried phrasing the sentence again, "How did you get involved with them?"

"Several years ago now Chancellor Ominak managed to psychically make contact with me. It had been something that they had considered impossible to do between dimensions, but as is true with most things, necessity will eventually find a way. He told me of his plans to create a resistance movement, mapped out and masterminded by the surviving Samorians. He informed me that he was contacting me because of his ties with my father. Apparently I was the strongest fighter that had negative energy psychically involved with Frieza. He knew it was a risky step, but that his telepathic capabilities had been enough over the course of several years observation to know he could count on my help for crushing Frieza's empire."

"At first I dismissed him. For one thing my mind is my own and I did not like the fact that he had been observing me unnoticed for so long. Another was that I did not wish to share my victory. Frieza would only die by my own hands, I did not want others helping me. I must admit though that their powers of persuasion were very well placed. I would not normally be coerced into something like this, but they made me an offer I could not refuse."

"What?" Bulma asked, hanging on his every word and not being able to cope with the silence he had lapsed into under the thought, "What did they offer you?"

"Two things. The first one was fairly predictable. At that point I was still well below Frieza in raw power. They told me they could awaken my latent energy, which I believe is similar to what that hideously obese Namekian did for Kakarrot's brat. This energy is easily controlled by beings such as themselves. Hidden in the mind, access to it is restricted, only creatures with the correct mental abilities are able to unlock it. Unfortunately it is just as easily locked, as it is unlocked. They could have switched it off at anytime and I wouldn't have been able to do a thing to stop them. They were not, however, unreasonable creatures. Left to my own devices I may not have been anymore good for their 'alliance' than Frieza, were I ever to overthrow the bastard. So they presented one more motive, which would suit us both. A position as a member of the Samorian United Alliance alongside those who had survived would be my reward for taking the Ice-jin down, and a share in the ruling over the universe would be mine, that way they could watch over my actions, and if need be moderate them."

Bulma's mouth went slack. What was she supposed to say? She knew he had a desire to be strong, but she had no idea that his ambitions for power would go so far, "And… you… wanted this?" she asked, shaking slightly.

"Of course I did." He replied somewhat indignantly, "It had been my dream from the earliest moment of infancy. I was bred and cultured on the legend of the Super Saiyan form. I was foretold to be that legend, to reawaken the golden power of my race and use it to take my rightful place as the most powerful warrior in the universe. Being allowed a role in the running of it, and being looked upon by those around me as a god, was the realization of my destiny to walk in the footsteps of my legendary ancestors. I thought I would realize it on my own, but Saiyan physiology is different to Ice-jin, where they failed to control Frieza, they would be able to put a dam on my power if they wished. I am still convinced the Samorians hold the key to my transformation to Super Saiyan."

Bulma wasn't sure what to say. There was so much she wanted to know, so many questions that forced themselves into her mind that it invariably made asking anything useless.

Her confusion was finally broken as she heard her companion chuckling slightly at her, "We have a first," he smirked, "I've rendered the blue haired banshee speechless. Do I get a prize?"

The condescending tones he used were not lost on Bulma, and she stood up staring at him, ready to scratch the damn smirk off his face, when the look in his eyes stopped her. Usually when she looked in them they were totally devoid of anything tangible. They sucked you in and read your emotions, making you feel nervous and on edge, just as they had done to her earlier. Now that look was back, but there was something else intertwined with it, never had she been able to get a hint of emotion from them, but now as he smirked at her, there was a something in them that shone. He moved closer, their bodies mere millimetres away from each other's. Bulma could feel it again. It happened so instinctively when she was this close, a shock of pleasure tingled its way down her spine, as the air between them seemed to become magnetically charged, urging them to bridge the miniscule gap that remained.

If she thought the tension had been at breaking point before, then it was now evident that they had gone over the cusp and were getting settled for the freefall. Vegeta looked as though he wanted to give into it. His head inched towards her own, his eyes never breaking contact, his lips were painfully close, and Bulma could feel her head start to spin. The conflicting emotions made it worse, as his warm breath tickled her face and his lips brushed lightly against her own. One part of her wanted nothing more than to give into the feeling surrounding them, fall into his embrace and give him all that he was silently offering her, but the other… her reason… stood firm.

Despite the inducement to do otherwise, it remembered the reason she had come here this night. To disinterest herself, to let Vegeta's words have the substance they needed. What was it he said to her, "You are no friend of mine, you are friends with what you want me to be - but this friend of yours, Bulma, is imaginary. It's a creature of you own making, and you can sculpt and mould it as much as you want, but it will never be me." She couldn't let him win. His words were true, this deception she was under - wasn't. What had she seen on those tapes to make him any less formidable or cold hearted… nothing that's what!

It took all the effort in her body to take a step back. It tore at her heart and sprung tears to her eyes, especially when she saw the sobering look of barely controlled anger that swept across his face. "I'm sorry," she mumbled awkwardly, "I can't. You are right, I had forgotten what you are capable of. The tapes I saw were enough to remind me."

"So it appears," he snarled in barely controlled restraint, "I'm glad they were so… effective." There was the smallest hint of resignation in his voice. "All is well," he breathed making his peace, "Hate is a lot more familiar to me anyway, at least I can say I can elicit emotion from you in one form."

"If you didn't want me to hate you then why show me the tapes?"

"I do not want hate, I want understanding. You now have that, I guess there is nothing more to be said."

Bulma looked to the floor, "I don't." she whispered. "I want to, but I can't."

"Understand or hate me?"

"Both," she breathed, "I can feel myself falling for you Vegeta, and you know what, it scares the living crap out of me. To know that I want you despite all I've seen. You sit here and tell me that your ambition is to have ultimate power, to rule over the universe. Where exactly am I going to fit into this grand plan of yours?"

"Onna, would you listen to yourself? You do not understand because I have not told you what happened on Samoria yet." Turning his back once again he angrily punched commands into the keyboard, "This is the tape you need to see. My first visit to Samoria was little more than to ask Chancellor Ominak if our arrangement were still in effect, seeing as Frieza's trip to Namek messed up our plans and that I wasn't the one to slay the asshole. I grudgingly admitted that Kakarrot had been the one to experience that privilege, but needn't have been worried about their cooperation. Kakarrot was Saiyan, therefore it was only fitting that his prince was rewarded for it. I did not wish to undo their illusions that he wasn't under my orders, I was weak and wanted the power more than anything. I wanted it to defeat Kakarrot and claim my victory over him, so the vengeance of my people would rest in its proper place. I should have been the one to kill Frieza; it was my destiny, my right!"

"This thought blinded me and so I did as they asked. They needed proof that Frieza was dead. What better way to prove to them that he was gone, than by having the audacity to take out the very heart of his empire? The scientist I happened on during my visit to Jororia was an added bonus. He made a nice present to give to them. Any weaponry that would give them advantage would be welcome, and multi-phasing is the most advanced ever designed."

He stopped for a second as the video stopped fast-fowarding and sprung into life. "Watch." He instructed. "At this point they had seen all the footage you had. They drew their own conclusions."

Bulma's head lifted, clearing thoughts of her own concerns and focusing them on the screen. Vegeta and the four Samorians who had greeted him before were standing in the middle of a cavernous blacked out room. One side was a complete video wall the rest were holographic projections of star constellations. There seemed to be no defining point where floor met walls or even walls met ceiling, there was just a cloak of darkness, which although broken in places, gave the illusion of infinity.

The sound that invaded was just as ethereal as the room. Nothing but sharp shallow breathing could be associated with sound. For the longest time this was how things stayed. Vegeta was the first being to speak, his voice cutting through the calm as though he did not notice the respect or spirituality that his surroundings seemed to demand. "What are you conclusions Chancellor?" he questioned, "You have mentally debated long enough. Tell me at once."

"It is not so easy Prince Vegeta. There are matters to be considered, mourning to be done. I was unaware that there were any more Samorian alive than us four. We may have claimed this planet as our own now Frieza is dead, but we have our whole civilization to plan. If there are more of our kind still alive, then we have a lot to think about, a lot to prove. Your place, however, is secure Saiyan no Ouji."

Bulma was shocked, not just because the Samorian United Alliance were really serious with their offer, but because Vegeta seemed so stoic under the news that he was about to realize his destiny. For some reason his attitude didn't seem to fit the scene. It almost looked as though he was disappointed.

The others appeared to be completely oblivious to the change in him, "Your lessons will start in a week. If you apply yourself well to your studies, you could be ready to take your place among us within the next year." Chancellor Ominak turned to Vegeta, placing a hand on his tensed shoulder, "Your father would have been proud of you were he to see this day. He prided strength of body and mind above everything. You are everything he wished for in his progeny."

Vegeta's hands balled at his side with the mention of his father, his body tensing even more than it had been, "But I am not," he replied to the old man, "I am not the strongest, and until I am I would be living a lie to stay here. Once I can prove I am the strongest then I will join you. Frieza took away the majority of values I had been taught, but he could never take away one thing. A Saiyan who has had his being ripped out, his life turned upside down, his people murdered, his spirit broken… what is their left for him to fall back on? The one thing no Saiyan can live without and that's his pride."

He fell to his knees under the weight of his speech. "I am so close," He murmured as his fists repeatedly smashed against the floor, "but yet so distant. You see now Frieza is dead I am being slowly ripped in two. One half craves the power; it is the darkness I have lived with for the majority of my life. It lies just below the surface well concealed under the layers of impartiality that have been beaten into me over the years. It spills through me, influencing all my thoughts and actions. This part of me wants to grab your offer in both hands, bring it to my chest and indulge in a power that I only envisaged in my dreams. I want it so badly, but it teases me, because now I am free. I do not know what this means, my servitude has been so long that I do not remember what it is like. This is the other half of me. It is the swelling of pride, the necessity to cling on to the culture I am the only true survivor of. Kakarrot does not care about his heritage, my planets traditions, principles, honour… they rest with me. Pride is the fundamental tool of my race, without it a Saiyan warrior is nothing! This is why I cannot accept. I want to so badly, but it would go against my pride if I did. I am not the strongest. I do not deserve a place with you."

The Chancellor looked down at Vegeta, his hand hadn't moved from his shoulder, and his eyes closed, "I understand Ouji. You have a lot to work through. When the time is right come back here and we will talk again. The offer is an open one, but you have to feel ready for it. Your decision, at present, is a wise one."

"Computer end program." The words weren't said with their usual composure, and Bulma had to confess that something had changed because of what she had seen. She was sharp enough to realize the footage he had shown her had crossed the line for both of them, and there was no turning away from it.

Her eyes flickered up to where Vegeta had been standing. He was there still, but his shoulders were no longer pulled back in their usual authoritative manner. Instead they were slumped forward, his whole body was engulfed in a shroud of blue as his ki sparked angrily around him. "There… are you happy now onna?" his words had a deathly chill to them, "now I have truly humbled myself in front of you?" He turned to face her, the fire of the devil dancing in his eyes, "It was the hardest decision I have ever had to make. So now tell me that you hate me!"

Bulma swallowed as she heard the raw emotion in his voice, "I can't," she stammered though the tears his turmoil brought to her.

"I demand that you hate me!"

"No!" she screamed, closing her eyes as he stalked ever closer.

"I do not mind," he coerced, "It is times like this that I hate myself. I'm offering you one last chance to back out, do you hate me?" His face was so close to hers now that their breath intertwined.

"What do you want me to hate you for Vegeta? You want me to hate you for showing me that there is flesh and blood inside that shell you live in. That there is a man inside that head who is starting to realize that he has something else to live for than power. Someone who wants to find out who they really are. I cannot hate you Vegeta! Kami dammit, there are times I want to though. Chancellor Ominak was right 'you have a lot to work through' I want to help you."

Vegeta snorted, "Yeah right. I bet you do. You want a wolf so you can tame it into a lap dog. I'm sorry Bulma, that's not what you'd be getting. You'd be getting me, a man who hasn't only teetered on the edge of insanity his whole life, but has swum gladly in its depths. I will not be reformed, cultured or tamed. I will be me, even if I am yet to figure out what that is yet."

"And where," Bulma was breathless now as during his last statement he had lifted her from the floor and cornered her with his arms against the concave gravity room wall, "Where do I fit in Vegeta? What do you want from me?"

"I have no idea," he growled, his lips reaching for hers once again. This time holding back was pointless, she knew she wanted him more than anything else she ever had, "but it will be fun finding out." He smirked this against her lips as he let all his tension flow over her, drawing her small body in as close to his own as he could.

Bulma couldn't believe it felt so good to be held by him as their hands explored each other's bodies with a need that should not have been possible. I never meant to love him, she thought in justification, but as much as she tried to deny it, it was still there. His pride was everything, and yet he had lowered it to show her the footage. He had given up the one last part of his culture, and it had all been for her. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

That night barriers had been crow-barred out of the way, emotional walls demolished, pride humbled and prejudices overcome. Perhaps it was just a need invoked by two individuals - a passion that would be forgotten with the morning, or maybe there was more to it. Perhaps the hand of fate himself had played a part in it, and the healing process would be crafted by a human female, uninhibited and willing to repair the man she loved completely, even if it took a lifetime. Who could say for certain, but what can be said with more confidence is that what they shared that morning on the gravity room floor would be something that neither regretted, or would ever be willing to forget for the rest of their lives.

The End.

……………………&hellip ;………

A/N - Well here it was the last chapter of 'Never meant to love him.' finished at 1:30 in the morning lol.

Sorry for all you guys who wanted lemon, but I wanted this story to stand on its own without one. I hope I managed to achieve that, and perhaps I could be persuaded into doing a one shot lemon for it. We'll have to see.

Please review and let me know what you think.

*huggles*

Ember