Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Of Stars, Steam, and Pride ❯ 05 ( Chapter 5 )

Of Stars, Steam, and Pride

By LadyVegeets, (beta-read by Artephile / Marcella-Duchamp)

~Part 5~

A couple days passed. Bulma was coming back from working on the wall when she found a carriage parked in front of her estate. Puzzled, she headed inside and heard Chi Chi's excited voice from down the hall. Bulma followed it, her pace picking up as her heart started thumping, daring to hope…

She burst into the living room to find Goku and Chi Chi sitting on a sofa together, cuddled as close as they could get, holding hands. Goku was smiling and listening raptly to everything Chi Chi had to say, and Chi Chi apparently had a lot to talk about, babbling on about lord knew what, but it didn't appear as though Goku cared, just happy to be able to listen.

“Goku?” Bulma asked, surprised yet elated at the happy scene the two painted.

Goku gave her a sheepish grin. “Hi Bulma. I hope you don't mind my visiting…”

“No, not at all!”

“I was just telling Chi Chi what an idiot I've been and that I hoped she would forgive my abrupt leaving. I… I was convinced I needed time to reflect alone, but reflecting made me realize that I couldn't be swayed.”

“About what?” Bulma asked, grinning widely, predicting his answer.

Chi Chi blushed prettily. “H-he asked me to marry him! And I said yes!”

Bulma squealed and Chi Chi stood up and the two women hugged each other, crying happy tears. Goku also stood and wrapped them both in his long, muscular arms, giving them a tight group hug. Chi Chi laughed, which made Goku laugh, and Bulma had to join in, overjoyed for her friends' happiness.

They had dinner together to celebrate. Goku promised to move back to the Bingley estate and extended an invitation to both women to come and stay there for as long and as often as they wished.

When Chi Chi went to fetch dessert, Goku pulled Bulma aside, taking her hand.

“Thank you,” he told her earnestly.

“What for?” Bulma asked, her eyes wide.

“For convincing Vegeta that Chi Chi was no threat. I knew she was never after my money, but he's my superior and friend. I couldn't say no when he ordered me to move out and-”

“Vegeta changed his mind?” Bulma asked, surprised.

Goku nodded. “Yeah, he came back the other day and said he had misjudged Chi Chi and that I was free to `throw my life away' on her if I wanted to, haha,” Goku laughed, rubbing the back of his head. He looked at Bulma with a gentle smile. “I knew it had to be you, I mean, who else would he listen to?”

“Me?” Bulma asked incredulous. “I'm the last person he would…” her voice trailed off as she saw the stern look Goku was giving her.

“For someone so smart, you can be pretty dense,” he chastised her.

Bulma huffed, looking away.

“I hope in time you'll see,” Goku added, and gave her hand a last squeeze, before going to see what delectable dessert Chi Chi had made for him.

~xox~

The next day when Bulma arrived home from work, she found something on her bed. It was a little portable sound device. There was no note, no explanation, it was just there, on her bed.

Cautiously, Bulma sat down and pressed the play button. A recording started to play.

“What's going on? Why have we accelerated?” A deep, older male voice came from the speaker, the voice crackling as if spoken over a communicator.

“Saibamen on our tail, Sir!” A younger voice answered, and Bulma stiffened with recognition. It was Raditz.

“Well, shake them!”

“Trying, Sir!”

There was silence for a while, broken only by the sounds of Raditz breathing tensely and pressing control buttons, trying to escape the saibamen in pursuit of his ship.

Suddenly there was a loud explosion. She heard Raditz swear, or assumed it was swearing. The language he spoke was foreign to her, sounding suspiciously like the words Vegeta had used the first time she had met him while he was fending off the city.

“What's the damage?”

“….Not good… Fuck, they got the left engine,” Raditz reported.

“Return fire, damnit!”

“Can't, Sir!”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because… I gambled away our ammunition money…”

There was a very telling silence. Bulma had to give the older man credit. If it had been her, she would have been chewing Raditz out by now for such a terrible blunder. Is this the mistake Vegeta wouldn't forgive Raditz for?

“So we out run them,” the voice finally decided. Practical. No time to place blame when there was still a crisis to avoid.

“C-can't, Sir,” Raditz replied, his tone taking on a different quality; it was higher pitched, frantic. Frightened. “We're too slow!”

Another explosion boomed in the background, and an alarm started sounding. Raditz swore, over and over, a string of nonsensical mixed languages and hysterics. “Fuck, fuck, lairn, lairn, velg. We're too slow, too slow…”

The older man was shouting orders but the communicator crackled in and out. Over Raditz's mutterings and the alarm blaring, the older man was near incomprehensible.

Bulma could hear Raditz madly mashing buttons and controls. He shut off the communicator and finally the alarm. For a moment there was nothing but an eerie silence, with only Raditz whispering to himself.

“Too slow, we're too slow, lairn, we'll never make it, we'll never outrun their ships because… we're too… heavy.”

Bulma gasped, dropping the sound device on the bed as if it had burnt her, putting a hand over her mouth. Her eyes went wide as realization dawned on her, as it clearly had on Raditz.

No, no… he couldn't possibly mean…

Another eerie stretch of silence came, and for a moment Bulma wondered if she had stopped the recording when she dropped the device, but she heard the communicator crackle back to life.

“Sir.”

“Raditz. What the fuck hap-”

“Sir,” Raditz cut in, his voice strangely cold, detached. “We're too heavy. I need to drop the cargo.”

“Raditz, you idiot, we hardly have any goddamn car-…”

“…”

“…You can't be serious, boy.”

“…”

“You're a soldier. You're sworn to protect us. It's not hopeless yet, we can still survive this!”

“…”

“Raditz… I've known you your whole life!”

“…”

“My wife, my SON are here! …Please!”

“… If you snap their necks, it'll be a better death for them, Sir.”

“Raditz, you piece of shit! Don't do this! At least take Tarble before you-”

“Disengaging cockpit,” Raditz said in a monotone voice. A button was pressed and there was a deep, metallic groaning as hooks were released. Bulma could hear the older man on the communicator screaming, cursing, pleading with Raditz to no avail. When the mechanical sound of the cockpit disengaging ended, she heard something different.

A woman sobbing. A young child crying. Oh god… Raditz had really done it. He had left the family to die. He had abandoned these people to the saibamen to save himself.

“…Raditz….”

“…”

“…Tell Vegeta I-”

There was another explosion and the woman and child screamed. Bulma heard eerie screeching and laughter, and the sound of pounding on metal, someone trying to get in. The older man hushed his family, whispering words of encouragement to them as the saibamen tried to break into their ship. The man and woman spoke in soft tones, whispering last confessions of love, gratitude, admiration…sobbing…

“Do it, my love,” the woman told him gently.

There was an awful pause.

There was a sharp snap. The woman's sobbing abruptly stopped, while the man's escalated.

The boy screamed, crying terribly, and it sliced through Bulma's very soul.

“MA-MA~! MA-MA~!”

“Shhh, shhh, come here, boy…”

Horrified, Bulma listened as tears ran freely down her face; the man consoled his son, told him how proud he was of him… And then there was another awful snap, followed by the most horrendous, gut-wrenching sobs, the sounds of a man who had lost everything, including himself.

It became harder and harder to discern the audio as the cockpit recording it all flew further away. Finally there was nothing but static. Raditz turned the communicator off, having heard enough. The recording ended.

Bulma barely grabbed the waste basket in time before she threw up. When she had emptied her stomach, a hand offered her a glass of water. She looked up through wet eyes and saw Goku standing before her, his expression unusually somber. She weakly accepted the glass.

“Do you understand now?” Goku asked her, his voice gentle, but there was a bitter edge to it. “Vegeta wanted to transport his family, but Frieza had him commandeering a different mission. Raditz offered to accompany them in his place; he was a family friend after all.”

“I didn't know,” Bulma sobbed, tears still running down her face. She couldn't make them stop. Oh god, Raditz had murdered Vegeta's family!

“When Vegeta found out that his family had died… He went berserk,” Goku said, looking away, out the window. “He tried to have Raditz expelled, put on trial for murder, but when he learned the audio would need to be played as evidence against Raditz, he dropped the charges.”

“But… why?” Bulma asked.

Goku sighed, looking away. “I don't think Vegeta could handle having that audio played in front of other people, to have everyone hear his family's private final moments. It was too intimate to share; Vegeta wanted to preserve their honor, their memory. Especially his father. Vegeta Senior was a really proud man. To hear him like that… pleading… crying…”

Bulma nodded, she could understand. Vegeta was a lot like that, clearly having taken after his father in many ways. It must have been devastating for Vegeta to hear his family cry and whisper their final affections, to know it was Raditz, a friend, who had betrayed them, and to know that his proud father had wept at the end.

“Vegeta went on a rampage,” Goku continued. “His anger quickly turned against Frieza who refused to take action against Raditz. Vegeta tried to throw a one-man coup… They nearly killed him bringing him down. Frieza threw him in solitary confinement. For a year. And, everyday, he played this recording to Vegeta. I don't know why. Maybe to punish him, maybe to condition him so he wouldn't react badly to it again. Maybe because the General is a bastard.”

“That's monstrous!” Bulma whispered, shocked at the horrid treatment Vegeta had undergone. He had just lost his family, and they tortured him? He had been in solitary for a whole year, listening to his family's final moments? No wonder Vegeta had no social manners.

“Yes,” Goku agreed. “Honestly, I'm not sure why Vegeta wasn't executed. Frieza always favored him but everyone was still amazed that the General let Vegeta live after his attempted treason. I think Vegeta was surprised too… I think he was banking on failing… was trying to go out in a blaze of glory…” Goku trailed off, his face twisted up in pain from the memory. He sighed. “I'm not going to pretend that Vegeta's personality changed dramatically after that ordeal. I mean, he was always aloof, stubborn. But when he got out of solitary, he was… different. More intense. Colder, closed off, and less trusting. He played his cards much closer to his chest. I'm the only one he barely tolerated… Until you.”

Bulma wiped the tears from her eyes, surprised. “Me?”

Goku gave her a wan smile. “Yeah. You. I haven't seen Vegeta as animated as when he's with you. When you're in the room, he can't keep his eyes off you. He trusted you with his ki guard; he may as well have trusted you with his own arm. He even asked me on proper dancing etiquette before the charity ball… Which reminds me.” Goku dug into his pockets and pulled out two items - one was her scouter, the other, a large orange gem - the one she had bid on at the silent auction.

Bulma took them both into her hands, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “I don't understand…”

“You won that,” Goku said, pointing at the orange orb. “A very charitable donation, I might add. The second highest of the night actually. It was only outdone by Vegeta, who offered 1 trillion galts for your vest.”

“Wh-what?” she stammered.

“Right?” Goku agreed. “I had to ask him if it was a mistake. He told me it wasn't. He said he didn't want to risk anyone else outbidding him. And he didn't say so, but I think he felt responsible for how much damage the city took during the attack, since he couldn't stop the saibamen sooner.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because he anonymously donated money to every family affected.”

Bulma looked down at her items, her fingers curling over her scouter, overwhelmed by the news. “Did you find this?” she asked, her voice hoarse, holding up the scouter.

Goku shook his head. “No. Vegeta left me a message, told me where to find it. It was in his nightstand draw, next to that audio device. He told me to give you both.”

“But…Why?” The scouter she could understand, but the audio file? Why did Vegeta want her to hear it, when he couldn't even let a court hear it to condemn his family's murderer?

“He left,” Goku told her flatly.

“What?!” She cried out, alarmed. “Where?”

“To tell Frieza that he won't take over the outposts,” Goku said, his mouth turned down. “He said there's nothing here for him.”

“What!” Bulma said yet again, this time standing up, clutching the scouter and orb to her chest, her eyes wide. “Won't the General be pissed?”

“Oh, yes. He was, very,” Goku replied unhappily. “Apparently all this happened yesterday, but I only found out about it a couple hours ago myself. Vegeta was given an ultimatum. Take over the outposts, or sign up to fight the Saibamen on the front with the Mayflies.”

“Mayflies?” Bulma asked with a horrible, sinking feeling.

Goku gave her a bleak look. “The soldiers on the front lines. They're called the Mayflies because, like the insect, most of them don't live for more than a day.”

Bulma sank back to her bed, her hands clutched so tightly around her possessions she could feel them biting into her skin. She didn't have to ask which choice Vegeta had taken. “How long has he been with the Mayflies?”

Goku locked his eyes with hers. “More than a day now.”

~xox~

Bulma was at the Bingley estate, having harassed Goku for the thousandth time if he had heard any news of Vegeta. Which he hadn't. Not that Goku wasn't trying, he had been doing everything in his power to get a message out to Vegeta, but they had no clue as to his success. The front lines were dangerous, and messages often didn't get through in a timely fashion, or at all.

Bulma didn't know what to do. There was nothing she could do. She didn't have the authority or the ability to leave the planet. She had no way to contact Vegeta. There was much she wanted to say to him, to apologize for. She felt awful, playing over every terrible thing she had ever said or done to him. Her mind turned in circles, trying to come up with a plan, an idea, something, but her thoughts soon descended into worry for Vegeta's safety.

They were sitting down for dinner, Bulma aimlessly pushing the food about on her plate when a knock came from the front door. Goku went to answer, and he came back a minute later, his mouth pulled tightly. He looked at her and said, “It's Raditz, for you.”

Bulma grimaced and got up. As she approached the front door, she saw him standing in Goku's entryway, surveying the decorations with disinterest. It was strange to see him, looking dapper as always, when deep down she knew the horrible betrayal he was capable of. He smiled when he saw her. “Bulma. You've been a stranger. Have you not been well? I haven't seen you lately at the wall.”

“I've had a lot on my mind,” she told him coolly.

“The General wishes to have another word with you,” Raditz said. “Can I tear you away from dinner?”

Bulma wanted to reply with a great many choice words, none of which were civil, but she bit her tongue. This might be her only chance to find out if Vegeta was alive, or possibly get a message to him. She forced a smile and accepted Raditz's invitation. She excused herself from Goku and Chi Chi. Goku seemed especially concerned, suggesting he go with her. Bulma didn't see what his presence could do, especially as he wasn't invited and would therefore not be permitted.

They left right away. Bulma managed to refrain from telling Raditz to go fuck himself for making her think he was a decent human being. He walked next to her, a cocky swagger in his stride. Her mind reeled to think that this flirtatious, amiable young man had killed Vegeta's family with a callous press of a button. And she had allowed herself to be enamored by him. She had never felt so betrayed or disgusted.

After a short, tense shuttle ride later, Bulma was soon standing once more in front of Frieza, the cold-eyed General looking her over from his imposing chair.

“Miss Briefs. Thank you for joining me again at such short notice,” he greeted her, making a steeple with his fingers. “It seems we have a problem, and I hear you might be able to help us.”

“Oh?” Bulma asked, suddenly nervous under Frieza's intense scrutiny. What problem would require her expertise? Surely they had other engineers if something mechanical were awry?

“Yes,” Frieza continued with a dark smile, “You see, all I wanted was a nice little intergalactic war.”

“…Excuse me?” Bulma stammered. She… couldn't have heard right.

Frieza's grin widened. “War, Miss Briefs. I'm sure you know the term. Everyone tries to kill everyone else, or that's how it appears to the masses. To people like us, it's about power. Profit. Control. Opportunity. All I needed was for Vegeta to stay on your tiny little planet and let himself get killed, and I would have had myself a lovely little war. But then you, Miss Briefs, you come along and throw a monkey wrench into my carefully laid plans. And now Vegeta has gone away on what should have been a death sentence - but apparently the stubborn bastard simply refuses to die. And you know what I hear? That he has some kind of ki armor which has been instrumental to his survival. Now, doesn't that sound familiar? I do seem to recall a little blue mouse telling me something about this fantastical ki armor. Yet Vegeta insisted this invention was defective. Isn't it most curious that you two would be keeping each other's secrets, especially when Raditz here claims you can't stand the man.”

Bulma felt her mouth go dry, her feet rooted to the spot. She was frozen, panicked, and drowning in information. She was elated to hear that Vegeta was alive, but her joy was quickly overshadowed by the General's threats against herself and the entire galaxy. She struggled to think of an excuse to sidestep her guilt, but nothing came to mind. Nothing except how utterly fucked she was.

Frieza smiled at her cruelly, perfectly aware of the effect his speech was having on her. “Well, I suppose you're wondering what the point of my telling you all this is? You see, I have a favor to ask of you. I'm sure this mess we find ourselves in is all just some giant misunderstanding, is it not? So, to show that there are no hard feelings, I would like you to help me convince Vegeta to return to the outpost.”

Bulma hesitated. Her eyes darted to Raditz, but he gave her nothing. She looked back at Frieza, scowling. “Why not order him back yourself?”

“Hmm,” Frieza hummed, his eyes sparking. “You see, I wouldn't want anyone raising questions about my intentions of placing Vegeta back on the outpost, would I? I can't have there being a shred of doubt about who the `bad guy' is here, or my little war is going to turn into civil unrest, and that's far too messy for my liking. No, I'd rather just have everyone up in arms when they learn that the saibamen have blown up your planet, and Vegeta along with it.”

“What?” Bulma balked.

Frieza's grin stretched broadly across his face. “Haven't you been listening, dear? Who do you think has been feeding intel to the saibamen? Or sending Raditz to mess with your precious wall security? Your outpost is the perfect place to stage a war. It has nothing of particular value. Blowing it up won't be of any great loss to me, but it does boast enough of a population to cause an intergalactic outcry at such a tragedy. And Prince Vegeta's death would be the cherry on the cake.”

“Prince?” Bulma echoed, stunned.

“Oh, you didn't know?” Frieza crooned. “Vegeta is the last remaining heir to his people. Raditz here is one of them too. Saiyans, you call yourselves?” Frieza asked, looking at Raditz.

Raditz gave a callous shrug.

“A warrior people,” Frieza went on to explain, looking back at her. “Good breeders - large population, large military too. They're excellent fighters, probably due to their natural aptitude with ki technology. Awfully proud too. So if they were to learn that their precious Prince had been unjustly murdered by saibamen, they would feel compelled to rise up and join the war in full force. Of course, let's not forget you, my dear,” Frieza grinned at her. “You could profit from all this as well. I have high expectations for this ki armor of yours. I'm willing to forgive your other transgressions in lieu of it. All you have to do is convince Vegeta to return.”

Bulma felt her hands tremble, her jaw set. The weight of Frieza's eyes and words bore down on her, crushing, grinding down her future. Everything rested on her answer, and she knew her choices weren't pretty. Help murder Vegeta and her planet, or refuse and die with them. But Bulma wasn't easily intimidated, and she was not willing to be like Raditz and give up people dear to her, just to save her own skin.

“General. I never can, nor ever will help someone as vile as you. Kindly go to hell,” she told him coldly.

Frieza's mouth split into a silent laugh, flashing teeth. “O-hoho, no, my dear, that is where your planet and all its darling people will be going. Everyone except you that is. I had hoped you would help us willingly, but one way or the other, you will do as I say. And, just between you and me,” he leaned forward in his seat, his eyes flashing maniacally. “I've always preferred a struggle.”

~xox~

Raditz escorted her down the passageway. Bulma felt sick to her stomach, her legs like lead, barely working, heavy with dread. How did she go from being an eligible bachelorette one day, to a prisoner of one of the most powerful men in the galaxy the next?

Bulma Briefs, you sure know how to screw up big.

“I don't know if you're brave or just stupid,” Raditz said as they walked. Bulma glared at him from the corner of her eye. “Why are you protecting him? I thought you loathed Vegeta,” he continued.

“Turns out I was sorely mistaken. And misled,” she said, the latter directed at him.

Raditz arched a brow, giving her a contemptuous look. “…You sound just like him.”

“You MURDERED his FAMILY!”

Raditz rolled his eyes. “And I feel terrible, but what the hell was I supposed to do? Die with them? What good would that have done?”

“You could have tried harder to save them!” Bulma spat back. “Or taken them into the cockpit with you. Or not been so irresponsible as to-”

He smacked her across the cheek. Bulma stumbled into the wall, holding her face, stunned and smarting in pain.

“Don't get impudent, girl,” Raditz sneered at her. “Whatever beguiling spell you have put on Vegeta will not work on me. If you think me infatuated, I should warn you I have been putting on a show all this time. Frieza asked me to keep an eye on you. He wanted to know if your skills were worth recruiting when you discovered we had tampered with the wall.”

Bulma blinked back tears of pain, and she glared hatefully at the tall, handsome man. “You're disgusting,” she spat at him. “You beat women. You blame others for your mistakes. You give up friends whenever it suits you. You bow to the General like an eager little bitch, waiting for a pat on the head. Vegeta was right,” she growled. “You are weak.”

Raditz lunged forward and grabbed her by the hair. Bulma cried out and tried to push him off, but to no avail. He shoved her against the wall, pinning her with his body. “Oh, my dear, I don't just beat women. I break them.”

Bulma felt a sob catch in her throat. She refused to show him any fear. Easier said then done though.

He grinned, seeing her resistance. “Let's send your lover a message, shall we?” He pulled something out of his pocket, bringing it up between them. Bulma didn't recognize the device. It looked like a communicator, but she had never seen one that was portable before. Raditz hit some buttons and waited, and there was crackling and buzzing on the line, before someone finally answered.

“Patch me through to Colonel Vegeta,” Raditz snapped into the device.

Bulma stiffened at Vegeta's name, her heart starting to flutter.

After an impossibly long time, the device crackled again, and she heard a familiar, gruff voice answer, “What is it?”

Vegeta.

She wanted to cry.

“Vegeta!” Raditz greeted cheerily, his eyes locked to Bulma's as he spoke, grinning darkly at her.

“Raditz?!”

“Don't hang up. I have a special guest here with me. I think you know her. Bulma, why don't you say `Hi' to our Prince?”

Bulma kept her mouth shut, glaring at Raditz, refusing to play his game.

There was no answer from the communicator, but the continued white noise indicated that Vegeta hadn't hung up.

“Aw, she's shy,” Raditz laughed. “That's okay, I've always been pretty good at making women scream.”

“Fuck off, Raditz, if this is some kind of sick joke-”

Raditz cut him off. “Bulma, love, would you like to tell Vegeta where you'll be staying, or shall I? Oh, that's right, I don't think we've told you yet, have we? It's one of Vegeta's favorite vacation spots actually. Solitary confinement.”

“Raditz, I swear to god I will-”

“Wait, Vegeta, do you hear that?” Raditz asked and then suddenly he kissed her.

Bulma screamed into his mouth and tried to shove him away, but Raditz was twice her size and who knew how many times stronger. When he pulled back, he smacked her so hard across the face she fell to the floor, crying despite herself. Raditz shoved the communicator into her face, letting it soak up her sobs. Bulma covered her face, struggling to get her breathing and tears in check.

“…Bulma?”

Vegeta's concerned tone broke her. She was found out. Bulma started sobbing harder, curling up on the floor, ashamed at how weak she was.

Finally, Raditz raised the device back to his mouth. “Did you get a good earful, Vegeta? Mmm, human women taste so sweet. Like vanilla and strawberries. I wonder if she tastes that good everywhere?”

“…Where are you, you sonovabitch?”

Raditz laughed. “Where else would we be? Circling her pathetic little planet, waiting for you to come home. You had better hurry, or there might not be anything left of her, `cause I'm going to eat her all up.”

“VEGETA, DON'T, IT'S A TRAP!” Bulma screamed even as she held her swollen cheek. “THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL YOU!”

Raditz slapped her again, hard enough to make her cry out in pain. “Oh, tsk tsk. That's a bad girl. Don't go giving away all the spoilers just yet. WELL anyway, it's been fun. The ball is in your court, Vegeta. Toodles!”

“RADI-”

Raditz turned off the device, and laughed loudly as soon as he did. He gave Bulma a little nudge with his foot. “Come along then, dear. Solitary confinement awaits.”

~xox~

It was dark, and cold, and small.

That was the worst part, how small it was. The room was so narrow she couldn't even lie down, not unless she curled up in the fetal position. Even then she felt like she might get stuck if she did. It was barely big enough to sit down in, with her knees half bent. Those were her choices. Stand or sit. There was a small hole for a toilet, and nothing else. There was nothing. It was just a room. A space. And she was to exist in there indefinitely.

Alone.

Forgotten.

Bulma grew claustrophobic within minutes. She could touch all the walls without having to stretch out, and each time she did she swore they had grown closer, that they were slowly, ever so slowly inching in, part of some sick joke of Frieza's. She became terrified that if she fell asleep she would wake up with the walls all around her, squeezing her, choking her.

She screamed and beat on the walls with her fists. She cried. She slept in fitful bursts, waking up in a panic, slicked with sweat.

She grew hungry. Then starving. But then it faded away into nothing more than a dull ache.

How much time had passed? Hours? Days?

How long would they leave her here? Until she died? Was her planet still around, or had Frieza blown it up? Was her family alive, were Chi Chi and Goku? She hand't been told what Frieza and Raditz planned to do with her if Vegeta didn't come. Or even if he did. Perhaps he had already come and he was dead even now, and she wouldn't know…

Bulma sat and rocked herself, her knees to her chest, and hummed a wordless tune.

She thought she heard voices. Was she imagining them? Was it a sound device playing? Was it echoes from across the ship? She didn't know, she had no way to know.

At least Raditz hadn't touched her yet, which was a small blessing after hearing all the vile things he had told Vegeta he would do to her, but she wasn't confident that he wouldn't be coming for her even now. Any second he could open that door and do whatever he liked to her, and who would stop him?

God, everything had gone so horribly wrong. If only she had something, a tool, anything…

Bulma lifted her head, nearly smacking it back against the wall behind her. She frantically started feeling about the walls, using her fingertips to find her way. There was a door somewhere. That meant there had to be a lock… It took her far longer than she would have liked, but she finally found the lock. She grabbed at her hair and pulled out some pins, what was left after Raditz had manhandled her, and started wiggling one about in the lock.

She swore when it broke, but didn't give up. Carefully, patiently, Bulma worked and worked at the lock. It felt like an eternity, but after a dedicated while she finally heard the most beautiful sound in the world.

A mechanical click as the tumblers shifted and slid open.

Bulma would have cried if she had any tears left.

Slowly, sloooo~wly she opened the door, just a crack and peered out. The light stung her eyes, making her retreat.

KA-BOOM!

Bulma teetered and fell back. The entire ship tilted, shaking, and moaned like a wounded whale. An alarm started sounding.

Had… had she done that by unlocking the door?

No, of course not.

…Probably.

Another explosion rocking the vessel told her that she had indeed not caused the disaster, but it did convince her that something big was going down. She needed to get out, now, before the whole ship was blown apart. Without any hesitancy now, Bulma threw the door open and stumbled out into the brightly lit corridor and looked around. It was empty. Having no clue where to go, she chose a random direction and started hobbling as best as her stiff legs could take her, hugging the wall for support.

Another loud BOOM shook the ship, and she nearly fell, crying out when a pipe burst and sprayed the corridor nearby with burning steam. She staggered back and hit something.

“You little bitch.”

A hand lashed out and grabbed her about the throat. Choking, she was pulled up face to face with Raditz.

Of course it would be him. The unfairness of the situation filled Bulma with rage. She thrashed in his grip, lashing out and scratching him with her fingernails, drawing blood.

“LAIRN!” Raditz swore, wiping the blood from his face. He gave her a fierce shake and tightened his hold until she could barely suck in air. “Don't make me crush your little throat, whore!” he snarled, and then started marching them away, but it was in the opposite direction from solitary confinement.

Bulma didn't know how to feel about that. Where was he taking her now?

He dragged her, kicking and choking down the corridors. He was looking around, sweating, his body tense, and Bulma quickly caught on that something was wrong. Whatever those explosions were, Raditz didn't approve of them. They finally reached a place she recognized, the shuttle launch pad. Her eyes widened. He was trying to escape the ship, but why was he bothering to drag her with him?

He headed towards the closest shuttle when it exploded in a violent light, sending them stumbling back as a wave of heat and energy burst out. Raditz turned around, snarling, and he pulled Bulma up against him like a shield.

That's when she saw the reason Raditz had come for her; she was to be his hostage.

Vegeta stood in the doorway. Or at least, she thought it was Vegeta. All she could make out was his silhouette, his body engulfed in a fierce yellow light. He slowly walked towards them, his eyes glowing strangely, his hair appearing golden… a trick of the light? “Let her go,” Vegeta said, his voice low but commanding.

Raditz tightened his hold on Bulma's throat. “Like HELL. You STAY BACK, Vegeta, or I swear I'll snap her neck in half!”

Vegeta stopped advancing, but he looked no less threatening. The energy radiating around him was intense, far more than it had been during his experiment in her lab. Bulma saw his eyes flicker to her briefly, then back to Raditz.

“G-good!” Raditz said when he saw Vegeta stop. “Now take off your ki guard, and turn off whatever the hell you're doing to make that armor glow.”

Very deliberately, Vegeta raised his right hand. He pulled his glove off his hand, then carefully unlatched and took off his ki guard. He threw it down on the floor with a clatter. Next Vegeta lowered his head, taking in a deep breath. He let it out, and with it the golden glow about him started to fade. It shrank, growing smaller and smaller until it was gone. Vegeta stood before them, hair and eyes black, looking as he always had, his expression colder than usual. “I've done as you've asked," he told Raditz. "Let her go.”

Raditz laughed hysterically. “You're such a fool, Vegeta. I'm surprised Frieza tolerated your shit for as long as he did. I may have drank myself half to death over what I had to do to your father, but I won't lose one second of sleep over killing you.”

Raditz raised his hand, and Bulma gasped when she saw he was wearing a ki guard. She struggled, trying to throw Raditz's aim off, but he was immovable. She heard the crackle and the smell of ozone as he fired.

Vegeta tilted his head to the side, letting the ki slide harmlessly past his ear and explode into the wall behind him.

“What the…!” Raditz said, taking a startled step back.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Is that all you've got?”

Raditz snarled and fired shot after shot until the room filled with smoke and fire. Raditz walked her backwards, towards another shuttle and closer to fresh air. Overhead the sprinkler system went off, and within seconds they were drenched in water.

Finally, out from the smoke, Vegeta emerged unscathed. He slowly walked towards them.

Raditz was gasping for air, his breathing coming hard and ragged. He had exhausted himself in his desperate attack.

Vegeta knew it. “New ki guard?” he asked Raditz with a small smile. “Getting used to how much energy it sucks up can be tricky. Most people overdo it.”

Raditz roared and fired three more shots. Vegeta dodged the first two. The last one he took face on - or so it appeared, but it bounced off an invisible barrier, the air around him glowing yellow for a moment. Vegeta hadn't turned the ki armor off, rather, he was concentrating the power when necessary.

Bulma didn't even know that was possible. It appeared Vegeta had become quite adapt with the technology in his stint away with the Mayflies.

Vegeta waved off the smoke, and narrowed his eyes further at Raditz, his gaze becoming wicked. “Let me give you some advice, Raditz. The secret to mastering ki technology is-”

Vegeta disappeared, blinking out of existence. Bulma felt Raditz tense in surprise before Vegeta materialized in front of them, having moved so fast her eyes couldn't see. He was glowing yellow again, his eyes a soulless teal. Vegeta's left hand had wrapped around Raditz's throat.

“-You have to find your own personal brass mouse to modify it for you. But you can't have this one. She's mine.”

Light exploded from Vegeta's hand, his second ki guard hidden under his glove, and he blew Raditz away from the neck up. Raditz's headless body fell limp to the ground, and Bulma went down with him. She shoved Raditz's arm from her throat, coughing and gasping to regain her breath. Looking up she saw Vegeta standing over her.

He looked down at her, taking a step forward. His leg buckled, his yellow aura flickering. The water from the sprinklers hissed where it touched his light. He slowly sank to his knees before her. “Bulma-”

She sat up but hesitated to touch him, lest she be burnt by his ki. Vegeta must have had the same thought. He frowned in concentration and suddenly the yellow forcefield opened up, and he took her inside, scooping her up into his arms before the light engulfed them again. She let out a small gasp, feeling energy rush through her at his touch, her whole body buzzing with his ki, her skin almost itching where she touched him. It was dry inside, the shield protecting them from the sprinklers. Vegeta's body was fiercely hot, and she clung to him for both comfort and warmth. She looked at him from up close.

Without the aura in the way, he was even more impressive to behold. His teal eyes pierced through her, terrifying in their changed color, but she saw his humanity there, and he held her so gently. She wasn't afraid. She was awed. Vegeta lifted her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing and staggered to his feet, carrying her towards the nearest shuttle.

“What happened to you?” she asked quietly, her eyes taking in his changed form. She reached out to touch a golden spike of his hair.

“I practiced,” he said, his tone dry. “A lot.”

“Just practiced?” she asked, incredulous.

“…And got very, very angry,” he admitted.

“No kidding.”

He took her inside the shuttle and locked the door behind him. Almost haphazardly he pressed some buttons on the control pad, launching them into space. Then he placed her down on a bench and his light flickered once, twice, and finally died out. The cool shuttle air bit her wet skin, and the buzzing caused by his aura vanished. Vegeta's hair and eyes melted back to their natural black. His legs trembled and he stumbled, catching himself on one knee. He stayed sat before her, head bowed, finally giving himself the chance to let his guard down. She could feel him trembling, exhausted, his shoulders rising and falling as he struggled to catch his breath. She saw his brow was covered in sweat. Bulma wiped her hands over his face, feeling how alarmingly hot and clammy he was even with his ki gone. “You look terrible,” she whispered, worried for him. How long had he been using his ki this way? Minutes, hours, days? He had put on a very impressive display; she had little doubt he was the cause of the previous explosions to the ship, having blasted his way in, but now she feared he had overdone it and used up too much ki to get to her.

He huffed a small laugh. “You too.” He raised a hand, his fingers hovering by her cheek, but then he frowned and let his arm fall, looking away.

Her heart lodged in her throat, her lower lip quivering. “That's not a nice thing to say to a lady, you know.”

“…Okay.”

Bulma felt a few tears drip down her cheeks. She wiped them away angrily. “Show me your arms.”

He obligingly held up his hands for her, but even that effort seemed to cost him. She could already see his right arm was ruined from where he had taken off the first gauntlet at Raditz's demand. Despite her modifications, Vegeta had clearly been pushing himself hard these last few days. What horrors had he endured with the Mayflies, out on the front lines? Bulma pulled off Vegeta's left ki guard and found a similar scene on that arm too, his skin black, charred and blistered, weeping painfully.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” she asked, her fingers ghosting over his trembling palms.

Vegeta stared down at their hands, his throat bobbing. “I…” he didn't finish, his fingers twitching under her gentle caress.

“Do you have any senzu oil?” she asked him.

He blinked, struggling to think. “I think so…”

Bulma sighed. She ran her hands down his side, around his waist until she found his pouch and pulled out a senzu bottle. There was only a tiny bit left, but it would be enough to take away the worst of his injuries. She opened the bottle and started to apply the oil to Vegeta's wounds.

He let her dress his injuries, saying nothing, his eyes darting up to look at her, then away. “Why didn't you give them what they wanted?” he finally asked her, his voice hoarse.

Bulma frowned as she rubbed his wounds. “They wanted you. Your life.”

“…I told you it was yours to take.”

Bulma looked up at him, eyes wide, his words a slap to the face. That's what he had meant when he had told her his life was in her hands? Bulma felt her lip tremble, her shoulders shaking with rage. “Why? I just… I don't understand you at all!” she shouted at him, the words spilling out. “You just let me stand there in the clock towner and condemn you. You never once corrected me, you never told me what Raditz did to your family! And then you just give me your life to do with as I pleased? What is wrong with you?”

Vegeta looked away, his face pained.

Bulma huffed and brushed away more tears, irritated at herself, and at him.

“Bulma…?”

“What?” she snapped at him as she continued to treat his wounds.

“Frieza is going to be pissed.”

“Oh really? You don't say.”

“I blocked the corridor to the shuttles, but we shouldn't stay in orbit long… However…” He looked at her uncertainly.

She looked back at him, suddenly nervous under his dark eyes. “However what?” she asked, her tone softer than before.

“I can't… help wondering… From your actions… if you have changed your mind…”

Bulma felt a blush rise. “Vegeta…” She felt something against her palm and looked down, seeing Vegeta's hand gently take her own.

“My plan to leave hasn't changed,” he said, his voice hushed. “If your answer is still no, tell me. I'll take you back to your planet and go, and you'll never hear from me again.”

Bulma hesitated. Leaving her home, her family and friends… it was a lot to ask. But she looked in Vegeta's dark eyes, and finally, without the prejudice which had blinded her in the past, she saw the warmth and affection there. He stared at her with such a fragile, earnest hope that Bulma felt her heart tighten, and her decision was an easy one. She smiled at him softly, and saying nothing, leaned her brow against his.

Vegeta let out an amazed, shaky breath. He raised his newly healed hands and cupped her face. “Bulma, I…I want you to…” he struggled to ask, pulling her tighter against him, his mouth hovering close to hers. “…I want you to…”

“Want me to what?” she asked gently, encouragingly, nudging him with her nose.

He huffed, his breath warm on her lips. “I want you,” he finally admitted.

Bulma shivered against him, and pulled him closer. “Then have me.”

He did, kissing her.

His mouth was warm and demanding. Bulma submitted, leaning into his strong embrace. She pushed her fingers through his hair, tugging him in closer as he kissed hungrily at her mouth. He pressed her back against the wall of the shuttle, and she parted her legs, drawing him in. His hold on her tightened as he grew bolder, his hands warm and rough against her tender skin.

Suddenly he picked her up and moved her to the floor. She yelped in surprise, but sprawled out compliantly beneath him. He followed her down, his eyes growing darker at her acquiescence, sensing triumph. As he went to kiss her his vest dug into her and she yelped. “Ouch!”

Vegeta made an agitated sound. He sat back up, ripping off his shirt before struggling to work all the buckles loose on his armor. Bulma laughed as his fingers shook, making the task more difficult than it needed to be. She sat up and put her hands over his. “Allow me,” she offered.

He looked at her from under dark lashes. His throat bobbed, and he let his hands fall to his sides. Bulma smiled coquettishly, slowly undoing all the buckles on the vest. Finally, he could pull it off, revealing a chest black and purple with bruises.

Her brow creased, troubled. “Vegeta,” she whispered in concern, running her fingers over his chest.

He stopped her, gently taking her hand in his grip and pressed her arm to the floor above her head. He leaned his powerful body over her, staring into her eyes, and any thoughts of pity for him were soon replaced with something else, a desperate longing to have him pressed against her, to feel him on her.

“It's nothing,” he reassured her, and she believed him. He kissed her again, slower this time but no less hungrily. She moaned into his mouth. When he let her wrists go she wrapped her arms around his powerful shoulders, feelings scars and unyielding muscle as she mapped him with her fingers. A gentle tug from her and he settled down, leaning his weight into her, his forearms braced on either side. He kissed her with his whole body grinding into hers. The heat from him felt exquisite against her shivering, wet skin.

When they broke for air she nuzzled his cheek, clinging to him happily. “Vegeta,” she murmured, enjoying the sensation of saying his name so intimately. He hummed back pleasantly in response. The sound made her lips curl up in a possessive smile. This was really happening, she really had him.

“Your clothes,” he said, mouthing his way down her jaw to her throat. “Do you care much for them?”

She did like her dress, but not as much as she liked what he was doing to her now. “No.”

He grabbed a fistful of her bodice and ripped, and the fabric tore apart like rice paper beneath his brute strength. She gasped as her breasts spilled out, and he didn't hesitate to put his hands on them, cupping her reverently, kissing his way down her collarbone towards them.

She arched back when his lips found a pert nipple pebbled from the cold. Her fingers curled about his powerful arms, goading him on. He sucked her hungrily into the wet cave of his mouth, but didn't stay long. He lavished each spot only briefly, bent on a mission, moving his mouth down to the soft swell of her belly to claim all over her. She was lost, swept away by his conquering mouth.

He ripped her dress further until it fell into halves at her sides and she was revealed entirely to him. Bulma didn't have time to feel shy because he grabbed her slender thighs and threw them over his shoulders. His eyes slid up to meet hers, watching her with a black intensity as he leaned in and tasted her.

Bulma let out a cry that reverberated off the metallic walls. Her back arched up from the floor, hips bucking against his tongue. Vegeta's eyes narrowed as he watched her, the corner of his eyes crinkling in amusement. His wicked tongue laved her a second time, and his fingers tightened on her thighs as she writhed under him, her hands dragging down her body, fisting in her ruined dress. He didn't stop, his tongue tasting her again and again.

“Vegeta, oh god…” she wailed, her breath hitching, breaking on sobbing moans as he quickly unmade her with his clever mouth. She had never experienced anything so amazing, and her breasts heaved as she struggled to draw in air to breathe and beg for more.

He wasn't so compliant. Just when she was losing the ability to form words he stopped. Bulma could have cried at the loss of his mouth. She trembled and moaned fretfully, watching him from under heavy lidded eyes as he licked his mouth clean, wiping his large forearm across his lips before moving back up the length of her. His raw sensuality made her gut clench with longing.

He kissed her mouth, and she tasted herself on him. She took the initiative, running her hands down his impressive body towards his pants, working open the front.

“You never told me you are an alien,” she breathed against his mouth.

“Does it matter?” he asked her, his voice low, rumbling deep in his chest.

She smiled softly as her fingers made quick work of his pants. “No. I just thought of something Frieza mentioned. That your people are good breeders.” Her hand slipped inside and it was easy to find the thick, hard length of him, her fingers eagerly pulling him free. “I can believe it,” she said breathily.

Vegeta's brow furrowed at her touch, and his eyes fell shut. He let out a small groan, pressing his brow to hers as a tremor run through his body. She smiled, emboldened, and encircled his girth with her fingers, letting them glide over the silken length of him. Vegeta hissed between clenched teeth. His eyes opened, and he looked at her with a hunger that was almost terrifying. “Let me show you just how good we are.”

“I'm waiting,” she encouraged, pulling her legs up to hug his hips.

He knocked her hand off him and grabbed both her arms to hold above her head in one hand. Then he guided himself into the wet heat of her. Bulma's head arched back, her mouth falling open in a gasp as he pierced her. “O-oh!”

He grunted, his fingers tightening painfully over her wrists as he sank inside of her. He started thrusting, slow at first, experimental, but her pathetic mewls of need soon had him rolling harder into her. Bulma couldn't think coherently, her arms trapped, her thighs spread widely to accommodate his powerful thrusts. He swelled inside her, breaking her apart, shattering her into tiny pieces of star dust and she just wanted to float away, lose herself forever in this moment, with him.

“Vegeta, deeper!” she pleaded, and he willingly took her orders. He grabbed her thigh and hitched it up, bending her double as he pushed inside her as deep and fast as he could. She sobbed in pleasure, feeling her ending build and swell, ready for a cataclysmic super nova event.

She had never felt this way before, and it wasn't just carnal, it was everything. He made her feel safe and treasured in a way she had thought impossible. He wasn't just commanding her pleasure, he was commanding her heart and mind, and Bulma had never felt so raw or exposed.

“Vegeta~,” she gasped, trembling helplessly beneath him. A few tears slipped down the corners of her eyes as she looked up at him, overwhelmed with emotion.

He surprised her by kissing her. He continued slipping in and out of her, letting her hands go so that he could slip a hand between them. His thumb pressed against her, and wet with her arousal, he teased her sensitive nub. Bulma lost it, tumbling over the edge of pleasure. She bowed her back, keening as she came against him.

He grabbed her hips and pistoned hard into her tiny body. “Velg, Bulma…” he swore. He soon followed her over the precipice, spilling himself inside her with a deep, growling groan.

He continued moving his hips for a while, slowly eking out the moment. Finally, he fell to his forearms and dropped his head to her shoulder, panting hard.

Bulma brought her hands up, stroking his sweaty back tenderly. “Okay, so, you weren't bragging,” she teased breathlessly.

He grunted, refusing to move yet. “I'm not even at my best.”

Bulma bit her lip, trying to imagine what it would be like with Vegeta when he was fully healed and rested.

She yelped as he suddenly picked her up. She wrapped her legs around him, making an unhappy sound as he fell out of her. He kissed her to make up for it and carried her to a waist-high ledge by a window, setting her down. “Don't go anywhere,” he told her, his mouth lilting up, amused by his own joke. There was no where to go in the tiny shuttle.

Bulma scoffed, leaning back, not even caring about her lack of undress. “Promise. Wouldn't want to disobey a Prince.”

He grimaced. “Like you listen to anyone despite their title.”

She grinned. “True. So, does this make me your Princess?”

Vegeta stammered, caught off guard by her question, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I… If… that's what you desire?”

She grinned at him, utterly charmed. She kissed the tip of his nose. “So long as I get to rule by your side.”

Vegeta turned away but not before she saw him blush.

“Won't they come after us?” Bulma asked, seeing the ship grow smaller as they flew away.

“Not for a while,” Vegeta assured. “By which time we'll be long gone. I took out their engines and weapons… But I should contact Kakarot before we're out of range. They might retaliate against your planet.”

Bulma smiled smugly. “That might be hard while they're all being court marshaled,” she said.

Vegeta frowned, not understanding.

“Frieza is very talkative, and it just so happens I have my scouter in my pocket, which is fitted with a recording device,” she explained.

Vegeta's brows rose. “You're diabolical.”

“I believe the word you're looking for is `genius',” she corrected smugly.

“Tch. Not humble, apparently.”

“Look who's talking, Mr. I'm the Prince of All Breeders.”

“Didn't hear you complaining about that a minute ago.”

Bulma poked out her tongue at him and he scowled at her. He turned and opened a cabinet, pulling out some spare military clothing, handing her a top while he slipped one over his head. As she was dressing she felt him nudge her thighs apart, demanding a space between them so he could watch the stars with her.

“Where to?” she asked him, the galaxy twinkling brightly through the window.

“Anywhere,” he replied, his arms wrapping about her waist. “Absolutely anywhere we want.”

~Fin~

~0x0x0~

AN: Y'all have VegetaPsycho to thank for me not splitting this into 2 chapters. XD

Once again, a HUGE shout-out to Artephile/Marcella-Duchamp for beta-reading this and being so awesome. And thanks to everyone else who sent their support, and who voted, enabling me to nab first place for the 2016 Literature Challenge over on The Price and the Heiress community. :) Much gratitude also to Loveveggiehead for providing a gorgeous prize <3

I've received the most amazing fanart for this story so far by GalacticShark17, Artephile / Marcella-Duchamp, Rutbisbe, Stupidoomdoodles, VegetaPsycho and RedViolett. Thank you so much guys!!! Fanart is my favorite thing in the whole world :D And VegetaPsycho and RedViolett have especially been on a roll with their steampunk art for this story lately, making so much incredible fanart for it. Please tell all these artists how amazing they are so they'll be encouraged to make even more for our viewing pleasure ^_^

To the guest reviewer, `DBZ' who left a comment on chapter 2 on FF.net - I appreciate your honesty about your voting choice. I also voted for another story in TPATH challenge which I thought superior to my own, haha. ^_^ However, I do want to address the comment you made that I only had `one chapter' up at the time, which is not correct. I had `Of Stars, Steam and Pride' completed in its entirety and submitted for the challenge (all five chapters). It was a LOT of hard work. Believe me, I was writing in every spare second I had, barely sleeping in the days leading up to the deadline of the literature challenge, madly trying to get 34,000+ words written in less than two weeks (with my beta reader bravely in the wings helping me out and can attest to that fact, haha). I finished this story with literally 15 minutes to spare, eep! I'm sorry if you only read the first chapter, I'm not sure how that happened, but I'm glad to hear you're enjoying the other chapters now. Once the competition was over, I decided to go over this story, just to give it one last read-over and to polish up any typos or prose that I felt could be improved on, before posting online. Otherwise this story is about 95% the same as the one submitted for the challenge, which you can still find on The Prince and The Heiress google community. And I also agree with you that the other writers should be thanked for their participation, because everyone did I great job, and I really thought I wasn't going to win because a couple in particular were PHENOMENAL. I encourage everyone who enjoys vegebul fanfiction to check them out (see below). Those stories left me in serious awe, tears, and one even had me experiencing something of an existential crisis. So yeah, they were really damn good. :)

The other contestants who wrote for this challenge were, BigBad-Wolfy , Bitchii-Usa , Verimol Lab , Mariana Oliveira , Fleur Licorne ,Vera Lynn and FrogLady15. You should go check out their fantastic stories :)

Find more vegebul goodies from LadyVegeets on twitter, tumblr, FFnet, AO3 and p atreon.

P.S. And yes, before you ask, I wouldn't be averse to doing a sequel. But like all things, it will take time, and most importantly, a worthy story to be told.