Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Rebirth ❯ Transition ( Chapter 8 )

A/N:

I am very sorry for the long time gap, but I have finally realized that this story is dead to me. I haven't actively written anything for this story anymore for the past year, so it is better to declare this story eternally unfinished.

 

But as I have said that I would complete this story no matter what, I have found a small compromise: In this chapter, I will post all prewritten snippets I still have on my computer, and the next chapter will be the rest of the storyline in quick-time. I fear that if I really wanted to write everything out, it would take me another 40,000 words and another 4 years.

 

Perhaps, some time in the future, I will come back to this story and revise the first chapters, and then, maybe, continue the story. For now though I can only give you this. I want to thank everyone for their nice reviews, and I hope that you aren't too disappointed.

 

Sakiku

 

Spini:

Nee, Bücher sind nix für mich, ich schaff's nicht einmal diese Geschichte hier fertig zu schreiben… Aber trotzdem danke furs Vertrauen!

 

mirai shell:

Thank you very much for your review! I've always been very weak with descriptions, and I'll remember what you told me. Last chapter was no more than a first experiment with lemons, and your review helped me a great deal!

 

Free-spirit:

Thanks! I'm sorry, but this will be my last update…

 

 

----

 

 

Transition

 

„Yes, Sir“.

 

Private Sandler saluted before Mr. Vegeta, who nodded in return. Only when the gruff instructor didn't look at him anymore with his scary, black eyes did he relax out of his attention position and cradled his nearly dislocated wrist. The training had become much more intense and much harsher after Vegeta-sensei had taken over, but the rate of injury had also gone down considerably.

 

Hand-to-hand combat was as feared as ever, but for different reasons as before. Instructor Vegeta was merciless in his taunting and training, pushing them to their limits and beyond. But he had good knowledge of what their bodies were capable of and he was surprisingly well-versed in treating accidents that happened despite everything, and the way he seemed to be everywhere at once helped prevent most injuries, just like his nearly dislocate wrist.

 

Vegeta had stopped his partner just before he could actually try to pull off the move that would have definitely resulted in a hospital trip for him. The tongue-lashing had been scathing, and his partner had gained the misfortune of having to spar an extra round against Vegeta-sensei.

 

Usually, once a week, everybody had to do a one-on-one with Vegeta-sensei, and the others had to watch and spot the mistakes. Everybody dreaded those moments because he was unbeatable. His reactions were so fast that every punch that landed was allowed to land. Most of the time though, he kept on dodging and limited himself to pointing out all openings by `lightly' touching them. It didn't matter that most of the time, a `light' touch resulted in a bruise the size of a fist that hurt for days, because for instructor Vegeta to consider something as an injury, it had to be at least severely sprained, broken, or bleeding.

 

Judging from his scars, he knew quite a bit about how those injuries hurt first-hand, so nobody dared complain when he was a little bit rougher than they wanted him to. After all, they were soldiers.

 

Afterwards, in the showers, Lexter came up to him.

 

“Have you heard the news?”

 

Lexter was nearly 6'8, blond, and bulky. The typical model for school-yard-bully. Lexter also was a very likable guy, one of his closest friends.

 

“What news?”

 

As the showers were all lined up on the wall without any separating walls, they could comfortably talk over the spray.

 

“The president of CC's missing, that's been all over the news! They've got no ransom demands, no nothing, but they suspect it's a kidnapping. I think they've sent a whole team of specialists to look for him.”

 

“Briefs senior is missing? When did that happen?”

 

“Nobody's seen him since yesterday afternoon when he had arrived back in his hotel room after some conference. Since then, he's been gone. Imagine the trouble CC must be in right now! Their stocks are already plummeting; Dr. Briefs is the one who's made all those inventions, and without him CC's practically headless!”

 

“Really? There goes my money… Do you think our Dr. Briefs is related to the CC-family?”

 

“You mean Dr. Bulma Briefs? She's his daughter, but after some family dispute, she didn't want to have anything to do with CC anymore. That was huge in the media a few years ago. Say, where have you been living???”

 

“Hey, I don't read the tabloids like you do! Can't blame me for not being up to date with all that gossip. So what's CC going to do now?”

 

“No idea. Perhaps they're going to try and get Bulma Briefs back, perhaps they're trying to look for another manager. I've got no clue.”

 

“Well, I bet that Mr. Vegeta's going to be pissed then. I've heard she's stitched him back together, and ever since, he's got a thing for her blue hair.”

 

“Feh, tough luck! You know women: When there are lots of men around, they either turn into sluts or ice maidens. She's so cold that her blue hair is still the warmest thing of her!”

 

Together, they laughed. It was an on-going bet: the one who got the doctor first would win a pool that was almost 800 dollars by now. Many had approached her, but all advances had expertly been shot down by her.

 

“Maybe she prefers women?”

 

Sandler sputtered. “Oh, come on, you can't be serious! Hand me the soap, please.”

 

Lexter merely shrugged. “Well, have you ever seen her smile at a man in a non-professional manner? Not even Brad's best attempt worked, and he went to her with a really serious cut. He never even got to first base.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Sandler shook his head. “That doesn't mean she's gay. Maybe she's just… timid.”

 

A barking laugh reverberated from white-tiled walls. “Her? And timid? I think she's seen all that men can offer, and then some. She must have seen virtually half the base naked. If that doesn't spark interest, then I don't know.”

 

Sandler merely sighed. “Shut up, you're just sore that she doesn't like tall, blond, muscled brutes like you. And just for your information: Weapons starts in ten minutes, so I'd hurry if I were you!”

 

Lexter yelped, and together they quickly left the showers.

 

 

 

-----

 

 

 

 

Coming fresh out of an emergency surgery, an inflamed appendix, I haven't even finished getting out of my shrubs when a Private barges in and tells me that someone from the police is waiting to talk to me. Quickly, I grab my uniform, the one I hoped I could leave without today, and follow the man. He leads me to an official reception room, where he quietly excuses himself.

 

Two official-looking men, one in suit, one in uniform - not military - are already waiting for me, and once they see me, the uniformed one asks whether he is talking to Bulma Briefs. He is roughly 6 feet tall, navy-blue uniform with a sheriff's star right over his heart. I show him my identification, and he smiles apologetically. They both introduce themselves, him as police chief Michael Keys, the other one as Shiro Hashimura, a lawyer of my father. The more fatherly-looking police officer gently tells me to sit down.

 

“Miss Briefs, we regret to bring you bad news from your father. He has been missing for two days, and we haven't found him yet.”

 

Sighing, I brush a hand through my hair. Finally, they have approached me; I've been wondering how long it would take them. All day long yesterday, I was trying to imagine what this encounter would be like, trying to imagine what I would say. I had thought of tons of reactions, from hysterically crying to stoic acceptance to laughing into their faces. But now, everything is gone in face of the chief of police and my father's attorney, and I play it by ear.

 

“You haven't found him yet? That's not good. Where could he have gone?”

 

The police chief shakes his head.

 

“We are very sorry, Miss Briefs, but we haven't found any tracks yet. We don't even know yet if he has been kidnapped or not.”

 

“Thank you for telling me, Mr. Keys. I am sure you will do everything in your might to find him. I just hope it's not too late.”

 

Now, the attorney enters the discussion.

 

“We hope so, too, Miss Briefs. But at the moment, it is more important that Capsule Corporation's continued existence is assured. As nobody knows of Mr. Brief's current status, his will cannot be opened yet. I am sure you are familiar with your father's position in Capsule Corporation. As long as nobody knows anything about Mr. Briefs, every solution will be more or less temporary, but the momentary state of things at Capsule Corporation is unacceptable. You currently are his only heir, so until Mr. Briefs' situation is cleared, you are the only one allowed to make the decisions concerning CC's business.”

 

Playing the astonished, emotionally overwhelmed girl, I fake a gasp.

 

“What? Me? I haven't been in CC's business hierarchy for more than 5 years!”

 

“But currently, you are the only one allowed to make substantial decisions. Either you come yourself, or you have to nominate somebody who gets full authority. Another solution is impossible.”

 

“I assume this is temporary until my father is found?”

 

“Of course, Miss Briefs.”

 

Sighing once more for good measure, I look from one to the other.

 

“If the military lets me, I'll do it. But I can't say anything before talking to my commanding officer. Would you please wait here; I will see if he is free at the moment.”

 

They nod, and I leave the room. Good, with a little bit of careful negotiation, General Mashimoto will let me go, and all resources of CC will be available to me. Then we can start with Vegeta's space pod, or whatever he calls his crashed pile of junk. Oh joy.

 

 

----

 

 

She was awakened by her bed moving. Sleepily, she opened one eyelid, catching sight of Vegeta's frame against the dark window.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“None of your business, woman.”

 

Sighing, she looked after him.

 

They had been staying at Capsule Corporation for nearly a week now, both having quit their jobs with the army. There probably were rumors already circulating around about her sleeping with a mysterious, handsome, dark man, but she didn't care. They quietly had filled out the papers that made them wife and husband, even if Vegeta had not been happy about that. But she had reasoned with him that in a position as hers, an official marriage certificate would help prevent many difficulties, and he had reluctantly agreed. So now, they were even sharing a room, but not much had been happening in terms of sex. Both of them were much too focused on their individual tasks, and their pasts were not forgotten.

 

Every day, he had been getting up at half past four without giving her a real reason. She thought it was to train, but she couldn't be completely sure. He knew how to block his side of the bond so securely that she had no chance of breaking through. And anyways, she needed the sleep, so she just put the pillow back over her head and mumbled something about Vegeta not killing himself.

 

Looking down at the tired woman, Vegeta took in her presence, her aura. Despite all her ordeals, her aura wasn't closed-off, not ripped open and partially healed before the next injury until it resembled a hardened net of scars like his. Her aura still projected everything she felt. If she had been stronger, it would have manifested in bright colors in the visible range, but even so he felt it as clearly as daylight.

 

She was not the only one who had been changed by the Binding. Did she even know how much of an influence she had on him?

 

Turning around on his heels, he walked out of the room, leaving the sleeping woman behind. He had to get in as much training as possible because later on, they would be going over spare parts for his space pod. She had seen his past and not run away screaming. That was enough for him. Too bad she probably would not survive Furiza's invasion of the planet. Because he would rather kill her himself than let her suffer like he had.

 

 

----

 

 

Together, they were sitting in front of a screen, leafing through a catalogue of immense proportions. Occasionally, they would stop at a page, looking at the offers there, and then, more often than not, Bulma made a note on an increasingly thick pile of paper. They weren't talking, but it wasn't necessary. Their minds were linked so closely together that any other form of communication was superfluous. Vegeta projected the image of the broken part in his mind, and Bulma tried to match it to one that could be gotten on earth. Vegeta would then compare its function to the ones it needed to have, and depending on the result, they would either take the part or look for an alternative.

 

Most of the time, they found what they were looking for, but unfortunately, many parts were simply too big to fit into the small, compact space pod. Several hours later, they were finally done with their grueling work. Exhaustedly, Bulma leaned back and rubbed a hand over her tired eyes. With a voice hoarse from disuse she groaned.

 

“Why couldn't your technology be any closer to what we have here? I'll have to build most of it from scratch..”

 

Vegeta though seemed to take the rhetoric question at face value. “If our technologies were matched more closely, you would have already found interstellar space travel, and most likely been discovered by the Cold empire. Be glad that you haven't.”

 

Shaking her head, Bulma didn't answer; instead, she leaned back in her hair and let her hands rest over her eyes. “It's just… that's so much work; I have no idea how we are going to get all of this done within the few months we have left.”

 

“We will,” he responded, not quite knowing what else to say. Sighing, they stood up and walked out of the room. Him to train, and her to conduct Capsule Corporation business.