Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ REPRISAL UNBOUND ❯ Chapter 13 ( Chapter 13 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Imajineer 
We see the Saiyajin no Ouji's moment of madness pass.
We find out how Yamchua's been currently coping.
Bulma is able to translate the probe and comes home to a shocking situation.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction |
Genre(s): Angst /
Drama /
Hentai |
Type: Revenge Fic |
Uploaded On: 01.13.2003 |
Pages: 10 |
Words: 8.0K |
Visits: 379 |
Status: Work In Progress
AN: Thoughts and mental speech;
~ O...Otou…sama…I…forgive you… ~
Otousama = a traditional/highly respectful term for father. As opposed to `Otousan'.
Flashbacks are clearly noted.
******************************************************
Trunks clenched his blue eyes shut, and in one quick decisive movement he dissipated his beam and brought his arms up in front of his head and chest in a form of a protective cross and as expected Vegeta's beam hurled unrestrained, full blast into the little demi-sayajin
Trunks was shoved to the opposite side of the gravity chamber and crushed by the full weight of Vegeta's blast against the enforced wall. The cries that emitted from his still developing voice box were saturated in the pain of more than one kind. The small shirt that was apart of his school uniform, vaporised as quickly as a sprinkle of rain water upon magma. The comfortable but flammable cotton that made up a hundred percent of his trousers ignited to only char is legs. The leather and rubber of his school shoes bubbled and liquefied to meld with the soft skin of his little feet. The high pitched screams of his unbroken voice rang unyieldingly within the chamber and even permeated all spaces throughout the Capsule Corp compound as it continued to rise in volume and pitch. It was distinctly loud and clear enough so that all who heard knew it was the agonised howls of a mere child.
Yet throughout all this, Trunks knew that this monster, who apparently seemed to want nothing more at the moment other then to terminate his short life, was not his real father. So, with his last coherent thought he offered exoneration.
~ O..Otou…sama…I…forgive you… ~
For some unknown reason, the power of Saiyajin no Ouji's beam slowly began to lessen. Within moments it ceased all together, allowing the body that it once pinned into the child size made crevice crash to the gravity room floor.
From where he stood, far on the other side of the chamber, Vegeta saw no movement coming from the tiny body that lay on the floor opposite him.
******************************************************
The thick fog of unreasonable rage compiled with the sudden magnified thirst for unrestrained battle slowly dissipated, leaving a much disorientated Saiyajin prince to take in his environment, as if he had awoken for the first time that day.
The crimsoned emergency alert lights were flashing. The computer apparently was ranting about reaching containment limit and practically screaming out a warning to terminate all combat exercises and the sounds of the sirens felt like they were purposely trying to rupture his sensitive Saiyan ears. As for his gravity chamber…his beloved gravity chamber! It was a wreck!
Several parts of the floor were smashed and pieces of the walls and ceiling were lying as heaps of rubble. As for the control console, it looked like someone had really done a number on it. Vegeta growled furiously as he stamped over to console and proceeded to shut down the alarm and the gravity simulation.
It wasn't until the red hews of simulated gravity faded completely into disappearance, and it wasn't until a moment of pure calm silence that had descended that Vegeta picked up on the ki that was close within his proximity. He spun around and quickly pinpointed the fallen figure that he instantly knew was his son, and within very few strides, he had reached him and was kneeling at his side.
"Tru-Trunks…" Vegeta had to put great effort from keeping himself from falling flat when he beheld his son's condition.
His son…HIS son…lay practically devoid of all his clothing. Blood poured from where soft skin was punctured. His chest, his arms, his…face…that young puerile face was almost completely covered in the red liquid. Vegeta lowered to gaze to take in the lower half of his body; he understandable failed to muffle a shock filled sound. Trunks' legs branded scorches that would have made the hardest Saiyan warrior howl in agony. But his small feet seemed the worst, looked the worst. The smell of the mixture of burnt, smouldering rubber and flesh, was almost enough to vanquish Vegeta's will power and cause his to regurgitate any nourishment contained within his belly. There was no need to ask what had happened; his memory held nothing back form him.
"I…NO!!!" Vegeta desperately took hold of the boy's shoulders and shook him. "Trunks! Wake up!"
He shook the unconscious boy harder. "TRUNKS!!!"
Vegeta ceased his manhandling of the boy when he felt him stir of his own accord, and after a few groans he saw Trunks lids strain open to reveal his blue eyes. The same incredible clear blue eyes of his mother.
"O…Tousan…" Trunks looked straight into his father's jet-black eyes, and Vegeta almost turned away. "What's wrong…with…you?"
It was a simple question, the hurt and confused child asked his father, but Vegeta could find no answer to give his son.
"You almost…destroyed our home.".
"I…don't know." Vegeta answered truthfully. "I just lost control. Are you alright?"
"Ye-e-ah…" Trunks' attempted confidant laugh came out a weak chuckle. "I'm Saiyajin…I can take much more than this little role in the dirt. I…"
"Shhh…" Vegeta shushed the boy as he gently picked him up. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Vegeta headed towards the gravity chamber door and rather than patiently unlocking it, he simply blasted an exit for him to carry him son through.
"Mom…won't be…happy." Trunks warned his father. He struggled to stay awake but his body had other ideas.
"I'll deal with your mother when I have to, besides, I don't want you to worry about that." Vegeta paused a long time before he spoke again. "I am…sorry."
Vegeta's words startled Trunks, but the move caused him to wince and cry out as his body pained with the sudden movement.
"Not…your…fault..." Before he could even finish, the now exhausted demi-Saiyajin slumped in his father's embrace and his head fell slack against Vegeta's chest.
Vegeta looked down worriedly at his son only to see that he now was unconscious again. He growled with self loathing. He resisted the urge to reawaken him to make sure if he was alright, knowing that he needed the rest.
"This IS my fault, boy." He told the cataleptic child, but he didn't expect the innocent to understand even if he were awake. Hell! He didn't even understand what was going on with him.
~ How could I have come to this? ~ He again looked down at his boy. ~ Forgive me… ~ Vegeta proceeded to take Trunks up to his bedroom.
(AN: He [Vegeta] tends to say that a lot doesn't he? `Forgive me' Well, I don't want to reveal too much, but he'll be saying that a good few more times. I swear it!)
Yamchua opened his eyes when he heard the opening of the cells deck doors. From listening alone he was able to identify the person by their light foot steps even before they came into view.
Gaila placed the tray of food she held with both hands on the floor and typed in the code for Yamchua cell door. Once accepted the bared door automatically slid open. It was a daily event now, as Gaila entered without any fear for the prisoner and set down the tray before him. She gave a smile with the meal, knowing and also being glad that she had no need to worry about his actions.
Flashback**********************************************
The loud clang of the cell deck doors opening instantly awoke the warrior. Rather than spring to his feet he decided to feigned unconsciousness.
Gaila cautiously approached the cell. She stood outside a good few minutes calling out loud for him to wake up at least five times.
~ I guess human hearing is duller than I thought. ~
She laid the tray containing food that she had brought for the human down on the floor and quickly keyed in the access code before picking the tray back up. Gaila walked slowly towards the sleeping human male. He was very big compared to herself.
If the Bulma clone had not asked her to do this, and hadn't assured her that he wasn't dangerous, then she never would have. But from the look in her face and the very short time she had spent talking with her…she knew there was something different about her. Gaila didn't exactly know how to describe it with any other words but with…innocence…tenderness…goodness. It was so unlike what Sarumi had told her to expect, at least, regarding the original Bulma. So Gaila had trusted her. Besides, she wasn't as ruthless as the rest of the crew; she wasn't going to starve the human to death.
Her encounter with the Bulma clone had led her to wondering if the real Bulma could possibly be that much different. Gaila quickly shook her head to dispel such dangerous thoughts and decided to hurry up with what she was doing so she could quickly leave.
~ I'll be in real trouble if I don't get back to my post. ~
Quickly choosing a corner no one outside of the cell would be able to see, Gaila walked over to it to put the tray down.
"I guess I'll just leave this here then." She said to herself.
She decided to steal a quick look at the prisoner one more time before leaving, but she was shocked to see that he was no more laying on floor and froze in fear. Before another second could past, Gaila was tackled to the ground. She looked up to see that it was the human male that now held her pinned to the cold cell floor with one hand around her throat, and he stared at her with dark brown angry piercing eyes.
Yamchua was about to tighten his grip and demand that she help him escape under threat of her life, but stopped when he felt her shacking in his grasp. It was then that he took his first real look at her. He became immobile when he realized that he held a child under him. She couldn't be any older than the human equivalent of fourteen years, and she was absolutely terrified of him. Her lime coloured neck length hair had fallen widely around her head and her golden eyes wide and glistened in pure dread. Yamchua started when he saw her clench her eyes shut and saw two drops fall from her eyes.
"P-Please…" She suddenly spoke.
"She said you wouldn't hurt me." Gaila sobbed. "Please..."
The human warrior felt a surge of guilt well up inside him and slowly pulled away.
"I'm…sorry." He found himself saying.
"She said you wouldn't hurt me." She repeated as she peddled back into a corner. If the terror wasn't blinding her she would have made a dash for the door, and Yamchua noticed this.
"She promised," Gaila continued to half sob, half babble. "She said you weren't like that."
"Bulma…Bulma said I could trust you to be different."
~Bulma?! ~ Yamchua knew she could only be referring the Bulma clone. He took a deep breath before he carefully approached her.
"And you can." He said softly. It was a possibility that she could lead him to Bulma and he wasn't about to past up the opportunity. "I only thought you had come to harm me, like the others, like Sarumi. I'm sorry."
Gaila just rapidly shook her head mutely and continued to move backwards. She was unaware, however, of the fact that the energized bars of Yamchua's cell was just three feet behind her, with the distance lessening with her every move.
"Please, I'm sorry." Yamchua was beginning to sound frantic now as he realized where she was retreating to. "I won't hurt you, I promise."
"No!" She shuffled back even more.
"I swear to you, you can trust me!" He moved his hand to grab onto her.
"Don't touch me!" Gaila screamed out she flung her arm out of his reach only to have connect to the cell bars. She released an ear splitting howl when the heat easily ate through her sleeve and singed her skin.
Yamchua quickly pulled her hand away and checked to see the extent of the damage to her light orange skin. He sighed when he saw that it was only superficial, but frowned knowing it still hurt her. After all he knew what it felt like first hand.
"I tried to warn you," he was chastising, but his manner was not harsh. "Are you alright? I don't think it's too bad, but are you in much pain?"
It was then, after having her fear momentarily knocked out the way by the sudden pain and the realisation that he had indeed tried to prevent it, that she found herself calming somewhat. She shook her head in answer to his question, not yet trusting her own voice to not betray her pain.
"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you. It was fault. I'm sorry." He apologised again as he released her hand. Yamchua pulled back knowing his proximity unnerved her. "Gomen nasai…"
A silence ensued that lasted for several minutes. Neither moved, neither spoke. Yamchua looked at her, but not directly so as to scrutinize.
"You know who I am, don't you?" He suddenly spoke. "Please, tell me your name?"
Gaila looked at him searchingly. It was obvious that he was not going to act hostilely towards her. He wasn't going to force her to answer either; he was just going to patiently wait until she chose to speak to him.
~Maybe, Bulma was right? ~ Gaila rubbed her now stinging arm. The physiology of her body had elevated healing compared to that of humans, and at the moment she was very grateful for it.
"Gaila," she said as he watched her. "My name is Gaila."
Flashback ends**************************************
Gaila sat down beside the human captive and watched him eat.
"Have Shizema or Bulma returned to the ship yet?" He asked just before he devoured a bread role.
"No. I have no idea when they will return." Bulma had been right after all. She could trust him, and in all honesty, she had grown to like him. Gaila had long since told Yamchua that he was held captive inside a spacecraft that now orbited Earth that was well concealed not only by their cloaking technology but also by the fact that they hid on the unseen side of Earth's moon at all times.
What little information she told him, she did so at great personal risk. Sarumi had reluctantly agreed to allow her to bring him the food, and she only did so when Gaila had reminded her that they may have use of him again. But if Sarumi were to find out that she talked to Yamchua beyond the permitted insults and verbal abuse allowed…Gaila didn't even want to imagine what might happen to her. But she saw it, however, as a risk well worth it.
She preferred the company of the human male to the company of her scheming superior. It was a pure, refreshing change that she realised she needed in her life. Revenge…at least this type…was not for her.
When Yamchua was finished she picked up the tray and headed for the exit. After locking the cell door she looked at him briefly.
"I'll see you tomorrow Yamchua." She then turned to exit the deck.
"Whatever it is you people are doing, it's wrong." He told her in all truth. "You must see that."
Gaila paused, but held her back to him. "Will you ever stop trying to sway us from our just course?"
"It. Is. Wrong." He repeated clearly. "You must see that."
"Vegeta deserves everything thrown his way for what he has done." She replied defiantly with her back still facing him.
"Do the innocent people you have targeted along the way deserve to be included in that?" He challenged her, and knew he had possibly won some ground within her mind when he saw her head slump. ~Perhaps...in shame and guilt.~ He secretly hoped to himself.
"You've got to help me stop this! We've got to stop this!" He pleaded with her. "Please…help me."
"I can't." She said hoarsely.
"Yes you can! I know you wouldn't have listened to Bulma and taken care of me these past weeks if you thought she was evil." Yamchua reasoned. "I give you my word that there is no difference between her and the real Bulma she was cloned from!"
"Yes there is!" She countered. "The Bulma you know willing gave herself and everything she had to a planet raping murderer! The Bulma we created will aid us in destroying that monster!"
"Listen to yourself! You sound just like that heartless bitch Sarumi!" Yamchua yelled at her. "I'm beginning to find it hard to tell the difference between the two of you!"
Gaila turned to face Yamchua. She flinched; despite trying to hide the sudden hurt at hearing the words he had just spoken. She never expected them to affect her that way. To make what was once diminutive negligible amounts of uncertainty turn to unbearable magnitude of unequivocal misgivings.
"Gaila, I've never had to say this about anyone," he added. "But you're worse than Vegeta, because you know what you're doing is wrong and you're ignoring it."
Once the last sentence Yamchua uttered had sunk in, Gaila blotted from cell deck, not wanting to hear anymore of what she frantically tried to convince herself were nothing more than fabrications of an mentally fragile human male who had kept far too long in captivity.
So much into her own thoughts was she that she didn't notice Birsha until they both were laying on the floor after just having bowled into her.
Birsha turned a pair of glowing angry eyes to her comrade, scaring her so badly that she fumbled with tray before helping Birsha up and stuttering out her excuse.
"You stupid clumsy bitch! Can't you watch where you're going?!"
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you, forgive me!" Gaila rushed out.
"What are you doing here, anyway?" She demanded irritably.
"I, um…ah…" She almost dropped the tray that was shaking nervously in her hands. "I've just finished giving some food to the prisoner."
"Only now just finished?" Birsha said surprisingly. "We are not running an illustrious catering service for worthless, piece of shit human Neanderthals."
Birsha cared as much for the natives of the earth as she did for the Saiyajin no Ouji. Which was diddly squat. (AN: In other words shit.) As far as she and the rest of the crew were concerned, with the exception of Gaila. The people of the planet which Vegeta now called home were just guilty as the family that had agreed to take him in.
"I know, but Sarumi authorized it." She reminded her.
"Humph." There was no way Birsha could argue the point if Sarumi had sanctioned it. But she still wanted to rattle the no good whelp for knocking her down.
"Just dropping off a few scraps shouldn't take you so long. What were you doing in there with him?"
"Nothing!" Gaila answered a little more excitedly than she hoped.
"Oh yeah?!" Birsha eyed the shorter crew member up and down. "I doubt a little inexperienced girl like yourself could handle anything remotely like a man, anyway."
For some strange reason unknown to her, Gaila found that she felt offended.
"Well I suppose someone who has been utilized as much as you have would know." She blurted out before she could even check to review the words that were coming out of her mouth.
Birsha's lime eyes opened wide in shock and then flared deep olive green in sudden anger. Without even thinking, she raised her hand and hit her fist against Gaila's face, knocking her to the floor.
"Watch your mouth you little whore!" She spat. "There are so little of us left that one less would make no difference at all."
Gaila looked up from the ground, tears falling down her face as he held up both her hands to shield herself in case anymore blows were to come her way. She continued to judder violently.
For a while Birsha looked at her, enjoying her dominance and the terror she was inflicting on the youngster. Then her eyes narrowed as a line of reasoning entered her thoughts.
~The puny tramp is only a child! She couldn't have spent all that time with the prisoner just to release sexual tension.~
"Why did you take so long with the human male, anyway?" This time Birsha really did want to know.
Gaila wracked her brain to come up with an answer, but she obviously wasn't quick enough as she felt Birsha's boot connect with her leg and she screamed in pain.
"ANSWER ME!!!" She bellowed. "Were you talking with him?!."
"NO!!!" Gaila sobbed. She shrieked even louder when she saw Birsha show her the back of her hand. "I didn't tell Yamchua anything! I swear to you I didn't!"
Birsha's eyes narrowed with uncertainty. "You better not have." She warned Gaila. "Now get your ass up and get back on the bridge."
Gaila hesitated, her hands shaking in front of her face, not quite sure if Birsha would strike her again.
"Get out of my fucking site!" Birsha watched as Gaila scrambled to her feet and ran away, picking up the tray on her way.
~I wonder if Sarumi is aware of just how spineless that girl is? ~
Bulma reluctantly entered her password into her 5.7 GHz laptop with a barely suppressed growl.
She had tried to use every other language translating program made available to her by the examination team to try and decipher what data the device had stored and what the alien woman was saying. She had attempted it for days, but it was painfully obvious, at least to her father and self, that it was all worthless. So now, she had no choice but to access her Namekian and Saiyango language programmes, to help create an entire new language translation programme for the alien device. Bulma, however, had made it perfectly clear that she wanted to work alone and in a private room away from where anybody else could see what she was using to translate the information contained within the device. Bulma didn't want to explain to anyone how and from whom she had gathered knowledge of the alien languages that her programmes were based on.
In addition to worsen matters, she discovered that Jiro Shizema, the same doctor who had kept her so `riveted' the last time they were together, was also on the team. He had come right up to her to say how so very glad he was that he would be working close with her. Not to mention how he had the pleasure of meeting with her famous father without need for the introduction she had promised. Throughout it all, she still couldn't fault him in mannerisms. They were impeccably gentleman like and polite. Even when he told her that after she had fainted at their last lunch arrangement, two of her friends had appeared out of no where and disappeared carrying her in the same manner. Shizema had made it a point to apologise profusely, as if her sudden illness were his own fault, and much to Bulma's mystification, he had managed to get her to agree to a make up lunch as soon as possible. Also, whenever she had the odd half hour of rest, Jiro would without fail pop to strike up one of his highly `enrapt' and `humorous' conversations. He had even taken to the habit of playfully slapping her on the back whenever he cracked a joke or tried to give encouragement. Bulma had hated it immensely, but being polite, (AN: Or, as I think, too polite. Take your pick!) she had bitten her tongue and grinned. So agreeing to the future lunch date was the only way to momentarily get him off her back.
As for her father and herself, she was giving him the cold shoulder. She did though, reply whenever he spoke to her with the respect that he deserved, but she refrained from engaging him in any conversation whatsoever. She was still upset at him for `ordering' that she with her personal language programmes be in attendance, but she held the stalemate between them from the rest of the team successfully. Only her father knew any better, and she'd occasionally catch him looking at her with almost a critical eye.
The only other thing that had kept her from brooding over the Saiyajin no Ouji who was her mate was the holographic image of the alien female who spoke in an unknown language only to repeat what she was saying a few minutes later. Bulma had very gratefully thrown herself into solving that mystery.
She subconsciously placed her right elbow on the desk she sat at and her chin automatically moved to cushion itself in her palm, as she began to recall the image she had seen and what she had heard.
Her eyes were an almost mad shade of violet, and her orange skin colour clashed with her dark red hair. Her clothes bore some minute resemblance to the Yadrakian garments Goku had worn upon returning from his training in space shortly before the arrivals of the Androids. Just minus the puffy collar and with a different colour arrangement. From the expression on her face and the tone of her voice, she didn't sound like she was making any hostile threats, but Bulma didn't discount it as an impossibility. Throughout it all, she thought that her father was being over presumptuous. There was absolutely no guarantee that she'd be able to translate any of what he was expecting her to anyway. Interpretation of alien languages was not her forte!
Bulma lifted her chin from her palm and focussed her eyes and attention to her laptop screen, having just realised that she had spaced out. A determined expression fixed itself firmly upon her face and she centred her entire concentration on the task at hand.
Everyone waited for the lab computers and Bulma's laptop to register the connections between the two machines and the alien device.
Five days! It had been for five consecutive days that Bulma had spent, admittedly along with the rest of the team assigned to examine the device, under ground, practically locked within the sub basement levels of the URSO building. And now, on the fifth day, they had gathered to see if Miss Briefs had been successful in her translation. She had already tried three times and every time they'd trigger the device it would light up as if it was going to project the holographic image of the alien female and as if the onscreen data were going to appear. After only a few seconds of the lighting display and the resounding hum that occurred during its activation, the device would shut down and all laboratory computers attached to it would either crash or shut down also.
Bulma stood by the desk top unit that held her laptop and watched as everyone was already at their posts. She crossed her arms in front of her and sighed irritably, waiting patiently as she could for the seconds to pass. As common practise they were not going to start until it was precisely 09:40:00. Precision in all activities was a definite must.
Dr Briefs approached his daughter from behind. "I do hope it will work this time." He said.
"It had better," Bulma didn't bother to turn and face him as she spoke. "I've stretched all lingual parameters of both my programmes to their limits, and I've stop just short of changing the base commands of the programmes themselves. So if it doesn't work we'll never be able to understand any of this."
"Ten seconds to go before we run device with decipher programme." One of the male technicians said.
While the countdown continued Bulma quickly re-rechecked to see that at her new decipher programme stood ready.
Shizema pressed the nub that jutted out at the top of the device and a source of light from within switched on as a hum sounded. A thin transparent glass like slate slowly protruded from the device. The clear glass dimmed to a near black and a pictorial like script appeared on the screen. A light beam extended from the device and the image of the alien female was projected.
"Alright Amy," Bulma commanded the female technician. "Check the monitor and tell me what you see."
The brunette woman looked at the screen in front of her that showed the same alien data that scrolled down the glass like slate display screen that was on the device.
"There's no change Miss Briefs." She told Bulma. "What I see is exactly as what is on the device screen."
"Damn!" Shizema cursed in frustration. "It has to work this time!"
"Be patient." Dr Briefs cautioned him. "Let's give it some more time. Bulma?"
Bulma went to rapidly typing at her laptop. Taking into account that she has been allowing her language programme to solely dominate the decoding of the alien data and speech, she decided, as a last idea to release some of the property editors and allow any interactive or external commands that the device may have to restructure her language programme accordingly.
"Is there any change now?" Bulma asked as she lifted her head to look at the other woman.
"No." She shook her head, and then suddenly stopped. "Wait…"
Everyone held their breaths and waited for her to continue.
"I'm beginning to make out characters here." She said still unsure. "No! Hang on! There's more! Text is beginning to form!"
"What does it say?!" The second male technician asked.
"It's still too early and unclear." She answered. "it just looks like the start of words and figures at the moment."
It was then that the alien female image began to speak its recorded message.
"Bre alsa moural for'ah…third sphere from the star."
"Third sphere…?" Amy repeated in disbelief. "She's referring to US!"
"Al…name is Sarumi." The holographic image of Sarumi outstretched both arms. Her palms and fingers opened and she lowered her head in a form of a bow. "Al videk edij…species named Jerarjin, of the planet Jerar."
Sarumi continued to speak but it was in the Jerarjin native tongue.
"Can't you get any more?!" The first male technician asked Bulma
"The programme is working, but it will take some time before everything is translated." She told him.
"Kel cretel maj pourvek…no alarm. The cloaking ability of the greeting probe is for its defence only. Its only purpose is to hide it from visual observation, it can do no else. It is not a hostile feature…gredek apar torola. Tatara borvor edij…detected…ultrey domas…atmospheres and cannot phase through matter."
"So that's what our satellites picked up!" Shizema concluded.
"Yes." The first male technician concurred. "It seems this was the object that was probably detected as it past through the rings of the Saturn."
"No doubt you have already been able to change the message into a form that you understand. I congratulate your efforts."
Dr Briefs looked at his daughter's face for a reaction but only saw her blink.
"I must admit that within the probe is an interactive programme that aided your computers in the translation from our native tongue to your own, but commendations are owing, nevertheless. We only make contact with alien species that are at near our technological stage or are advanced, and you people very much fit into that category."
Bulma briefly took in the proud smiles of all the technicians with the exception of her father.
"Any questions you have regarding our planet, our people, our technology is stored in data form within this device. Please, I beseech you; study it with an open mind. Paltarus mal'libah, asla reb…Perfect health to all of you, and farewell." She again extended her open hand and bowed. Then the beam projecting the hologram retracted back into the `greeting probe'.
No one spoke. No one wanted to break the reflective silence after what seemed to be a victory in contact with an alien species who was peaceful and good intentioned. After all, every other alien species that had come to Earth had come for one purpose only, to destroy it. This was the fresh clean breath of air above the surface of deep murky water.
"Amy," Bulma said, disrupting the silence. "Has all the data been converted into readable form yet?"
"No, not yet." She said. "But more is being made intelligible all the time."
Bulma leaned over her laptop and rapidly typed on the keyboard. "I'm transferring the translation programme to the lab computers." She explained. "Have you received it?"
"Yes." The first technician answered. "It was a successful delivery."
"Good." Bulma said in a near sigh. "My help is no longer needed."
Now gratefully finished with her task she shut down her laptop, closed it and turned with the intention of going home. That is until Shizema approached her, unnoticed and wrapped his arm around Bulma's shoulder in a surprisingly friendly, chummy gesture.
"Congratulations Bulma!" He cheerfully said. "You are, without a doubt, a true genius."
"I can't take all the credit, Jiro." She said with a level of control that amazed even herself. Bulma was feeling very tired and all she wanted to do was go home and have a real sleep in her own bed. Not to mention that the bruises on her arms still smarted and Shizema was pressing right on them!
"That's crap!" He rated as he patted his rapped hand on her shoulder. "No one would have been able to do what you've done."
Bulma allowed an appreciative smile to show even though all she wanted to do was push him off and blot out and away from the URSO building. To her chagrin everyone was looking at them, including her father.
"Well, thank you." She said instead.
"And to think everyone was acting as though we were about to be invaded or something." He laughed and Bulma gave him a humoured half smile half chuckle.
"Well I'm bushed, and I'm going home now." She told him as way to end the conversation.
Before he removed his arm from her, Shizema lowered his head to give her quick kiss on the side of her face.
"You most certainly deserve it." He told her softly. "Congratulations again."
"Arigatou, goodbye now." She told him without visually starting and walked to exit through the lab doors. "I'll see you at home otousan." She told her father as she walked by him.
"Remember, you owe me a lunch date!" Shizema called after her.
Bulma turned around for a quick smile and then turned to walk through the doors.
~Like fuck I will!~ Bulma said to herself.
Bulma pushed her back against the front door, closing it. She dropped her keys on the small table by the door frame and simply placed her large over night bag, (more like several over night's bag) against the wall.
~I'll deal with unpacking tomorrow.~ She decided.
The clock on the hall wall told her it was 4:53 pm, and she turned in the direction of the stair case. A sudden rumble from her tummy reminded her that she had missed lunch, and where she stood at the bottom of the stairs she would see where the kitchen was located. The debate for a quick meal before having a very early night won over her desire for immediate sleep, and she walked towards the kitchen.
~There goes that Saiyajin influence again!~ Bulma complained to herself.
As she entered the kitchen she was greeted with the sight of her mother sitting in a chair while laying her head on her folded arms bending over the kitchen table. Her deep breaths obviously told her that she was sleeping. Bulma frowned knowing that depending on how long she had been there, her okaasan would have quite a deal of discomfort or pain in her back. She walked beside her and gently shook her awake.
Mrs Briefs opened her light blue eyes and stretched while she yawned loudly. She then rubbed her eyes, momentarily oblivious to her only daughter's presence. (AN: Y'all remember that episode after the Saiyan saga when Goku took off for Namek, and Mrs Briefs opened her ever closed eyes for the first time? Well I could've sworn they were light/sky blue! But if I'm wrong…which I doubt…will somebody please tell me.)
"Kaasan, you shouldn't be sleeping here. You'll give yourself a sore back."
"Oh Bulma, don't be silly I'll be…BULMA!"
Bulma almost fell to the floor in shock when her mother screamed her name at the top of her shrill voice while she was standing right next to her.
"Oh Bulma!" She said almost sobbingly. "Trunks…Trunks was…"
"Trunks? What's wrong with Trunks?" She asked as soon as she recovered.
"When he came home from school a few days ago…" She trailed off shaking her head while she covered her mouth with her small hand and closed her eyes.
"Nani…what's wrong with him? What happened?" She repeated her question to her mother.
"I don't know what exactly happened but he…" She broke off but a gentle but persuasive touch on her shoulder from Bulma made her carry on. "He…Vegeta and he did some sparring in the indoor gravity room and he got hurt!"
With her piece now said Mrs Briefs broke down into sobs.
Bulma straightened up taking in the shocking news her mother just laid on her, but she quickly looked down at her mother when she saw her near hysterical state. Bulma then shook her head to give it some sort of clarity and then attempted to calm her mother down enough so that she could get the woman to go and rest in her own bed.
After she had accomplished this, she slowly made her own way to her son's room. Taking a deep breath she opened the door and walked in, closing the door behind her. Bulma then turned around and walked to her son's bed. The mound she saw told her that he still lay in it, and she pushed down the wave of paranoia that threatened to raise its head when she beheld the motionless of Trunks' body.
Once at the bedside, Bulma pulled the sheets back to look at her son.
Trunks' small chest rose and fell with every inhale and exhale. He was apparently dressed only in briefs, (AN: No pun intended.) so she had a good view of his body, and what she saw wasn't as terrible as she imagined. His face showed no damage at all. Whatever injuries he endured had for the most part already healed. However, she still could make out some of the fading bruises that once covered his chest. Glancing at one of his upturned hands she could just barely see what she assumed were minor burns.
~Probably from a ki blast.~ She mused.
Bulma then pulled some more of his blankets away to reveal one bare leg and foot. She unmistakably saw the newly formed skin that had replaced what was once burnt with his trousers and melted by the soles of his school shoes, though she did not know what the exact cause was.
She was almost overpowered by the strong urge to reach out and caress her son skin as if it would erase all traces of the wounds that had undoubtedly caused him pain when he received them. But she refrained in fear of waking him, he looked so peaceful sleeping there and he didn't look like he was in any pain or discomfort.
Bulma replaced the sheets mindful not wake him and went to sit at Trunks' desk. She reserved to ask him what had happened when he awoke of him own.
~Damn it Vegeta!~ She raged. ~Damn you!~
How many times had she told him to take it easy on the boy?!
It was far too many to count she concluded, but obviously, Vegeta had ignored her once again.
~If that bastard no Ouji was here, I'd do to him exactly what he did to Trunks!~
She knew that Trunks' Saiyajin blood would heal him completely and leave no scar mementos of this `training incident', whether physical or mental. She knew that he would simple say `It's okay kaasan, I'm alright. I'm a Super Saiyajin! I can take it!' And the unbelievable thing would be that he believed it, meant it! Hell, it was true! But this fact didn't dissolve any of Bulma's anger at what her `husband', `mate', had done. With that she got up and searched out the entire residential sector of the Capsule Corp complex for Vegeta. It wasn't until over an hour later that she had finished her search, and she had come up empty handed.
Bulma went back to her son's bedroom and took vigil of him at his desk. She took several minutes to engage in controlled breathing so she could eradicate her almost insane fuming. Even though she had no idea where Vegeta had gotten to, she knew he'd never run from her, from what had happened, from what he had done. So she was completely clueless as to his whereabouts, and she had no intention of disturbing either her son or mother in an attempt to ask and find out from them. Yawning, Bulma rested her head on Trunks' desk as an additional means to help calm herself. The four hour drive home from the URSO headquarters building, coupled with this new worrying turn of events was quite taxing for her, both physically and mentally. Feeling the sudden heaviness of her eye lids she allowed them close, simply telling herself that she was only letting her eyes rest a while. Within minutes, however, she too like her son fell sound asleep.
He had flown aimlessly across the planet surface long enough. It was time to return home. He needed to see his son and he was now calm enough to do so. Vegeta altered his course accordingly so that the Capsule Corps. compound became his destination.
He had watched over Trunks as he recuperated from the injuries he had inflicted upon him during their most recent training session, and as expected he continued to heal nicely. He knew that the boy would be fine; his Saiyajin heritage would ensure that. In fact since Trunks was being waited on both hand and foot, and beck and call, at least as far as his grandmother was concerned. Vegeta was beginning to suspect that Trunks was starting to take advantage. Whenever he went to see him, Trunks was asleep, but he'd always see empty plates and bowls that obviously once contained food scattered around his room. He had even noticed when his mate's okaasan would enter with trays full of steaming delicious food and exit with almost licked clean wears.
~Little scamp!~ Vegeta smirked at this. But what was taking president with Vegeta's troubled mind was an explanation for his behaviour. He couldn't really find one! The only thing he was certain of was that when he left home to go his secret island for periods of meditation without any distractions, he felt…different. Especially over the last half year or so, whenever he left the grounds it seemed he left some of his rage as well.
Vegeta growled to himself feeling very frustrated. None of this was making any sense! How could leaving his home, his sanctuary make him feel better. Vegeta growled again and with a sudden blast of his aura he increased his speed for home.
Bulma's blue eyes flashed open in a start and it took her a while to recall where she was and why. The digital clock on the desk told her it was after eleven in the evening. She sat up straight and looked at her still sleeping son. Getting up, she stretched and them moved her hands behind her to rub away some of the tension that had built up in her lower back due to the way she had been sleeping.
~What I really need right now is a long hot relaxing shower!~
Bulma walked over to her son's bed and rearranged the sheet that he had managed to kick off of himself while in sleep. In all honesty, she had to admit that the little boy looked fine. She sighed to herself. How she really wanted that hot shower! But she couldn't leave Trunks. She suddenly looked at the closed door of her son's bathroom and then back at him.
~Would he be alright if I went ahead and had one?~ She asked herself.
Surprisingly, Trunks' head moved to her direction and his relaxed face softened even more, as if to say, `Don't worry mom, I'll be okay.'
Bulma looked on mesmerised. It amazed her how he seemed to communicate to her even though he was asleep. But she decided to follow her own advice and her own son's unspoken words of approval. Bulma walked into the Trunks' bathroom and went to turn on the tap of shower. After adjusting the heat to as hot as she could take it she pulled off her clothes and stepped onto the tiled shower stall floor. She didn't bother to close either the bathroom door or the shower glass blinds, just in case she could hear if Trunks were to cry out for her.
As soon as the hot water touched her, Bulma gasped loudly at the sensation it caused her to feel. There was an aspect of sensuous pleasure and of a discomfort not quite pain that took hold of her body. It wasn't long before she relaxed.
(AN: Anyone who really loves hot showers will know what I mean.)
Bulma was content enough to just to stand still and motionless under the hot spray. She wrapped her arms about her upper body, careful of her bruises, and allowed the fairly high flow of water to massage her.
Now that she had completely calmed down and once again was in possession of her rational mind, she was glad that Vegeta was not present when she had come home. She would have thrown herself at him screaming insults and curses and words borne only of hurt and anger. She would have most likely thrown her fists at him also, as hard as she could, but all in vain. No doubt it would have had the effect of a wasp trying to sting a brick wall, not to mention breaking every single bone in both her hands.
Bulma didn't know for exactly how long it was for but she slowly began to feel a rise of temperature, and it was not from the shower. It heat was radiating from another independent source. A source she was very well acquainted with. She knew who it was and Bulma slowly turned around to see an unclothed Vegeta no Ouji standing in the shower with her.
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This is where it stops for now folks!
Hope you enjoyed your read and please drop any questions or comments my way!
Also…PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE KEEP UP THE ENCOURAGING REVIEWS!!!!!!!!!!!