Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Requiem in Blue ❯ Chapter Eight: Shuku'da ( Chapter 8 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Vejiita-sei had always looked beautiful from space. Its reddish-purple atmosphere haloed the planet for miles around outside its corona, shading its solar system with bright shadow. And it was enormous. Vejiita-sei’s circumference was over twice that of Yuki-sei, dwarfing Furiza’s home planet over and over. A thin ring of cosmic dust and rock hugged its globe and twisted ever so slightly in the airless expanse of space. It was a shame really; all this beauty gone to waste on such a barbaric, primitive culture as the Saiya-jin. Furiza dipped his finger into the glass that rested on the arm of his seat. Sweetly flavored alcohol dripped from the tip of his claw, and he brought it to his mouth, studying the blinking lights of the guard pods that hung suspended over Vejiita-sei like insects. They would be hard to get by indeed.
There was a swish behind him, and a few of his own soldiers entered the bridge.
"Lord Furiza, our payload is in position. Shall we proceed?"
He pondered this information for a moment, and then regarded the outline of Vejiita-sei for another few seconds. How beautiful it was from here—so serene and perfect, just like a painting. He shut his eyes and remembered a day when such things were taken for granted on the free worlds within the Saiya-jin Empire. But such things were laid to waste by men like the Saiya-jin King’s father…such things were not allowed anymore. Furiza nodded slowly.
"Proceed.  And send a message to that female on Mizukashi. Tell her that we are in need of her cooperation now. Now more than ever."
They saluted and left, leaving Furiza to drown in the soft chattering and gentle clicking of each of his pilots. They began to pull back, and Furiza watched as Vejiita-sei shrunk inch by inch into space until it was no more than the size of a fist on his monitor. He watched as the plasma beams flew at the violet-crimson haze around Vejiita-sei. For a moment, it looked wonderfully macabre. Furiza almost wished that he could hear the children screaming on Vejiita-sei as he had so many years ago on his own planet. It would bring him peace on some level, he knew, to hear their people suffering as his had before they had reluctantly entered into a forced sovereign status, below the Saiya-jin King.
It hadn’t been an easy decision, to act quickly like this. In fact, he hadn’t liked the idea of it in the first place. But it seemed the only option. The monkeys were certainly not going to sign a treaty with the Aisu-jin any time soon, and Yuki-sei was at greater risk every day if those primitive mutants took the Mizuka-jin under their belt. If the brute force of the Saiya-jin could be combined with the tech-base of the Mizuka-jin, no one on Yuki-sei would be safe again. And Furiza knew he could not allow that to happen, no matter what the cost. How upset Vejiita-Zarshon would be when he learned; while he was off drinking purya and celebrating his "Shak’ala", his people stood and watched in awe as their planet crumbled to dust beneath them, and their strong warriors were burned and poisoned alive, unable to help.
Vejiita-sei rumbled and cracked, and the sonic boom could be heard even from this distance. Furiza gripped the arm of his chair and sat back. The violet-blood red hue was gone, and only gray rocks floated in its place. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip, then motioned with one finger to his helmsman.
"Send a direct transmission to Mizukashi. Be sure to express to King Vejiita just how sorry we are. And oh, don’t forget to tell him how we tried so desperately to ward off the asteroid as we approached the planet for our monthly tungsten deposit. I’d hate to look the villain in all of this mess."

Raditsu awoke from a horrendously deep sleep to a pounding on his guest chamber doors.  It echoed in the room over the blaring emergency alarm on the comPanel.  He groaned into the scented pillows that surrounded him and dug his fingers into the satiny blue sheets as a voice assaulted his sensitive ears.
"Aash’an!! Aash’an Raditsu! A direct request from His Majesty!"
Raditsu slid out of the bed and landed on his hands and knees before curling his tail around his bare waist and pushing himself to his wobbly feet. He tugged at the waistband of his underwear, tight on him because he’d had to request fresh ones and these fucking Mizuka-jin thought everyone had hips the size of a fish.   He readjusted them around his ample package and groaned.
Raditsu paused before opening the large doors and took a deep, deep breath. Running a hand through his unruly hair, he pressed his hand against the comPanel.  It chimed pleasantly, and the doors swished open.  They revealed a nervous-looking Elite Guard Soldier.
"What in the name of all the gods is going on?" Raditsu grumbled, shaking out his hair like fur. The guard stood there for a moment, a look of utter horror spread across his face like crimson blood. Raditsu squinted and watched the warrior gaze on in anticipatory terror.  "Out with it, Soldier!  It’s the middle of the night, what the fuck do you want?!" He bellowed, seeing how the man before him flinched. The guard finally swallowed and replied.
"Direct orders from the King, Captain Raditsu. He wants to you report to his chambers right away.  It’s quite important, Sir."
Raditsu cocked his head to the side and gazed out into the hallway beyond the guard. The hallway was deserted, and as he had observed since coming here, even during the deepest hours of the night, the hallway was never this empty. He frowned and returned his concerned eyes back to the guard.
"Tell the king I will be there as soon as possible."
The other man saluted diligently and nodded, hurrying out of sight. As Raditsu dressed, his mind was in a flurry. What could possibly be this important that the King would call on him at such an odd hour of the night? Was it the Prince? A scuffle perhaps--or a message from those bastard Aisu-jin? Whatever the reason, Raditsu did not hesitate to hurry down the hallway towards the King’s guest chambers. Once he had reached them, the guards there saluted and opened the door.  A great gust of a breeze tousled the hair hanging in front of his eyes.
The King was seated in his plush chair, chin in hand, staring out into space. Raditsu frowned. Brolli was by the King’s chair, arms crossed tensely over his broad chest.  Prince Vejiita was halfway across the room, leaned against a dark corner, face lowered towards the ground. Raditsu flexed his palms outward for a moment and decided that the sight of all these warriors crowded into one room and not saying a gods damned word unnerved him unlike anything else. Even the sight of Bulma, standing by the King’s side and eyeing him complacently, as she eyed everyone, sent crackles of uncertainty through his blood. He stood and stared for a few seconds, only to shake his head and return to the present as he approached the King’s chair and knelt before him.
"Zarshon-kalan. They said you wished to see me."
"Stand up, Raditsu."
The Captain gulped visibly and let his eyes fly around the room once before wondering what had made the King address him by his first name. Again, he swallowed his discontent and made eye contact with Brolli as he stood. The Kassha’hal’s jaw was clenched, his fists balled up underneath his powerful arms, and a sheen of sweat evident on his cheeks and forehead. Something was definitely wrong… His friend watched him carefully, and then he shut his eyes when the King spoke again.
"Aash’an…  Captain, I have called on you to make preparations within our troops.  We must activate immediately what warriors we have left.  Vejiita-sei is gone."
Raditsu squinted and felt his heart rate soar. What in all the gods’ names was he talking about? The captain frowned and locked his hands behind his back.  Something in the words was not right, no.
"Gone, Sire? I don’t understand." He hoped that his voice was not shaking as much as he felt that it was. The King lifted his head from his chin and stood from the chair. Though Raditsu was much taller, he suddenly felt as though the King were a giant.  His Majesty gulped before he answered.
"Yes, Raditsu. Vejiita-sei is gone. A few hours ago, we received a transmission from Sovereign Emperor Furiza, as his scheduled deposit was about to be made.”  Raditsu noticed the way the King’s voice changed.  "Apparently, his ship was thwarted by what appeared to be an asteroid as it approached Vejiita-sei’s interstellar port. According to him, they tried everything possible to stop it.  Even, as he put it, at the cost of their own casualties."
There was a break in the atmosphere when he stopped, and the captain swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. The words had come clearly, and needed no explanation…but somehow, somewhere in his mind they did not make sense. Raditsu cleared his throat and looked at the floor. Vejiita-sei…gone? It could not be. The Empire worshiped its Mother as dutifully as a goddess.  The bulk of Imperial Assault Brigades and Defense Battalions were on Vejiita-sei.  Gods, one Saiya-jin warrior alone, male or female, could have incinerated the rock instantaneously! It didn’t make sense… Raditsu clenched his fists tightly together and guarded his breathing.
"Sire, I—?"  The sudden and crushing pain in his chest was absolute. Suddenly it felt as though the entire palace around him was falling down onto his heaving breast. Brolli’s eyebrows were knitted together, and Raditsu knew that even the Kassha’hal had left behind family and friends to live on Mizukashi…  Now he had none. Did this mean that…?  "Sire,” Raditsu began again.  “The Saiya-jin here, on Mizukashi…?"
"Are not aware of the situation yet, Aash’an.  Nor are any of our troops stationed elsewhere within the galaxy.  We are the only ones who know--now. I will deliver the address at sunrise."  The King placed a gloved hand on Raditsu’s shoulder.  "We all mourn, Aash’an. But we must be strong for Vejiita-sei. And the Aisu-jin will pay…"
Raditsu lifted his head and squinted in the dim light. Brolli’s head was bowed, and he could see the veins in his neck pulsing with anger. Raditsu’s eyes found the Prince, who was still leaning against the wall; any trace of emotion was still shadowed by. Suddenly he was confused.
"The Aisu-jin? But, Sire—the asteroid, you said it--?”
"Not more than half an hour after Emperor Furiza’s transmission, the Prince received this on his personal transmitter." The King held out his palm, displaying a digital mini-transmitter.  He flicked it open with his thumb.
The Captain stared into the four and a half-inch screen until the face of a man he knew well flickered into view. The company Commander Nappa appeared, his face a bloody testament to the destruction of the pod behind him. The picture was fuzzy, shaking and decrepit—much like Nappa’s face. Raditsu gulped furiously, willing the angry growl to remain seated in his stomach. The commander spoke, his voice a retched, terrible piece of torn throat.
"…Must tell the King…all a lie…tell your father, boy—!"  A grunt of pain, and Nappa fell close to the transmitter screen.  "It was Furiza…I saw them…!  The plasma cannons—tell him it was FURIZA!"
This time there was a great cry of pain, and Nappa’s hand came to his mouth, cupping the river of blood that cascaded from his lips. Raditsu’s nose wrinkled not from the sight, but the words behind it.
"He does not know I am alive…but he will soon. My…crew…all dead—tell them there was NO ASTEROID!"  There was a pause, and Nappa’s face turned away from the screen to gaze out his window. A bright light shone into the cockpit of the guard pod, and Nappa’s eyes were frozen with terror.  "Vash’halla save us…  They’re all gone."  The explosion that engulfed the cockpit blinded the screen, and then it was blank.
There was silence as the King closed the mini-transmitter and turned back to face his own seat. Raditsu trembled in his armor for a moment, attempting to make sense of it all. It just did not make sense.  Not any sense!  Vejiita-sei could not fall.  And yet it had, hadn’t it?  The words were as simple as the concept itself. They were gone—all of them. Vejiita-sei housed over thirteen billion Saiya-jin, if all in the galaxy were on-planet, and still had room to spare. How was it possible that they were all gone? Could it truly be that the only Saiya-jin of this flourishing empire that remained now only thrived on the colony planets and free worlds? That population did not even equal a quarter of Vejiita-sei’s population. Raditsu held his breath, attempting to form a coherent thought.  But all that remained in his head were the last words of Commander Nappa.  They’re all gone…
"Give me the go ahead, Father."  Prince Vejiita’s voice came from the other end of the room. It was tired and desperate with anger.  "I will tear Furiza’s head from his slimy shoulders."
"No—!"  The King’s voice was just as adamant. The Prince growled as his father continued. "If the Aisu-jin can destroy our planet then they have more resources and power behind them then we could have ever imagined.  Our assumptions about the supremacy of our Empire have cost us. But it is a mistake we must learn to bear, that I must learn to accept."  His tongue lashed out, wetting the dry half of his mouth, and Raditsu felt the tension in the room stick to the back of his throat. The King continued, "We have underestimated the Aisu-jin, and we must not let it happen again, or one of the free worlds will be next.  Aash’an?"
Raditsu’s head came up, despite the awful spinning inside of it.
"Sire?"  His voice strained against another thought; where was his father’s security squad?  Surely, they had been contacted already, hadn’t they?  The King sat in his chair and gestured to Brolli.
"I am placing the Kassha’hal Brolli under your command. In the absence of any capable officers, you shall head both the remaining assault brigades of which you are already a captain, and our reserves that were off-world at the time of Vejiita-sei’s demise.  All the rest of the Prince’s subordinates will adhere to your word, Aash’an."
He nodded, but was slightly taken aback by the way the King had left his son seemingly out of the picture. Raditsu made a motion to look at the Prince, but was stopped when he saw Bulma.  Her face was a mixture of calm and desperation, and it made him wary. She looked upset.  But there was an emotion hiding even deeper behind those azure eyes. One that looked volatile enough to sear the skin off of every man in the room, and as usual she was hiding it quite well. He wondered if she knew how he could see it, even now after so much time away from her.  He wondered if Brolli could see it.
Suddenly the Prince left the darkness of his protective corner.  It was as though an animal had suddenly been released from its cage, and now came to the realization that its captor was a mere arm’s length away and waiting to be destroyed.  His aura was hot like a sun, and it singed the air around them.
"Father!  I wish to be given this command, as it is my duty! I will not stand by and allow others to exact their revenge on my planet!"
The King smiled wanly and studied his son with pleasant admiration, though he looked quite sad.
"Yes, yes it was your planet, was it not, my son?   But who shall rule this galaxy when I am gone?  You, jya’nehm…  My son, the pride of my throne and glory of my name. That is why you will not head the attack. That is why you must stay here and train.  You must defend the throne."
Raditsu frowned again as the Prince stepped forward. He was far too angry.  Vejiita was next to his father in an instant, pointing an accusatory finger and coming dangerously close to a defensive crouch.
"Fuck your throne!" The Prince bellowed.  "If we lose now, what throne will I have to defend?  I would rather die at Furiza’s hand than live knowing I did nothing to stop him!"
The King stood and growled aloud. Raditsu shifted in front of the Prince when his own father lunged at him. He gripped the King’s arm and was surprised to find that the older man still had more power than he’d expected.
"My King," Raditsu struggled under the pressure, "now is not the time for bitter words."
He felt the power release for a moment, and the Prince stepped out from behind him.
"I will lead the attack!"  He roared, clenching a fist.
"You will not!" Raditsu was surprised at the volume of his own voice. Every eye in the room was upon him as he returned his gaze to the Prince. Vejiita-Zarshi’s eyes were round and full of indignant surprise until he snarled.
"You dare to instruct me, Aash’an--?"
"Your father is right, Zarshi-kalan!" He made sure to sound as forceful, yet as respectful as possible given the circumstances, though he was sure that Vejiita would not forgive him for this for a long while.  He dipped his chin in reverence, to assuage him.  “Suukah.  I honor you, My Prince.”
Raditsu knew he would see it as a gross debilitation on his ego and pride, and he would not forget it. But none of that mattered now, not really.  He swallowed before continuing.
"There are so few Saiya-jin left now that the death of their Prince would bring lost hope and faded patriotism. Are you so willing to die that you would abandon your own people? You say Vejiita-sei is your planet, and rightly so."  He bowed his head again for a brief moment. Vejiita’s eyes had not softened when he lifted his eyes.
“Then protect what little of her people are left. Allow me and the Kassha’hal Brolli to incinerate Yuki-sei and lead an attack on Furiza and the Aisu-jin that will leave them crippled and screaming for mercy in our path.  Then, Zarshi-kalan.  Then you may have his head!"
Again, utter silence. Raditsu prayed to whatever gods would listen that Vejiita would see reason and relent. But it had never been in his nature to do so, and it would take a miracle now. Nappa had been the Prince’s teacher and friend, perhaps even closer to Vejiita than his own father had been when the Prince had been a boy. He would not forget Nappa’s face in that transmission.
The King was shifting in his position behind Raditsu, and the captain could tell he was making the same request of the gods. Finally, Vejiita hissed through his teeth—it was a short, disgusted sound. He crossed his arms tightly against the unarmored spandex of his battle suit, and leaned forward so that Raditsu could smell the anger emanating from his body.
"Bring Furiza to me alive, Aash’an." He said.  And Raditsu was momentarily relieved. "But if you allow the Kassha’hal Brolli to incinerate Yuki-sei, I’ll kill you myself. I want to watch that ice-cold shit hole burn underneath my fingertips. THEN, Aash’an, I will have Furiza’s head.
The Prince’s eyes settled on Brolli, and Raditsu saw the way the two men glared at each other like shyre cats from the western lowlands of Vejiita-sei, ready to strike. He waited for a moment, let the silence sink in, and said,
"I will do as you ask, Zarshi-kalan.  Suukah." He bowed diligently, and could feel the self-satisfaction radiating off of the Prince like sunlight. When Raditsu stood, he saw that Vejiita was turning on his heel to leave, but not before he had shot Brolli another look that could have killed a man where he stood. When the door slammed shut, Raditsu turned back to the King.
"Forgive me, Sire. I saw no other alternative for him." He hoped the King would see it as well. The monarch’s eyes left his, and he shook his head, sitting back down in his chair slowly.
"Vejiita will do as he will, Aash’an. He will find a way to supersede my ruling. He respects no one but himself.  It is my fault for instilling such a strong sense of pride in him."  The King turned to Brolli. "Forgive him, Kassha’hal. This bad blood between the two of you must be resolved.  We need all the cooperation we can muster."
Brolli said nothing, and Raditsu sensed reluctance even in the Chosen One. He wished to strangle him at that moment. After a brief second, Brolli bowed at the waist.
"Of course, My King.  I will do as you say."
When he rose again, the King had turned with tired eyes to Bulma. Raditsu gazed upon her warily, old memories wrecking havoc on his mind and his body. Her proposal earlier in the hall had not been forgotten. He was amazed after all this time that she would continue to torture him as she had in the past. Had she not seen enough of his humiliation? With great pain, he realized that if she had spent even one more moment in his company than she had this afternoon, he would have gladly taken her up on her offer.  His threats to rape her had been regretfully hollow, though he hadn’t been sure if she’d seen it. Gods, he wished he had the strength to degrade her like that…the bitch. The King’s words interrupted his thought.
"Lady Bulma, I regret that we shall need even your assistance. Normally, I would not turn to anyone outside of our race.  But your knowledge of tech could be very useful to us, without a doubt. Will you and your Mizuka-jin brethren help us? For the good of the Empire, Shal’ba Bulma?"
With horror, Raditsu saw a smirking delight pass through her eyes. But, he realized, there was confusion nestled in its depths, making it hard to tell whether or not she would speak the truth as she opened her deliciously venomous mouth. Bulma smiled, attempting it seemed to make it genuine.
"I will provide the fallen Vejiita-sei with all she needs, My King.  Suukah." And she bowed. Raditsu bit his bottom lip, and his eyes came to Brolli.
The other man was frowning as well, looking upon his friend with knowing animosity towards the female before them. But Raditsu was afraid; how far would Brolli go for her? Two years ago, Raditsu would have set the universe aflame for her, until that dreadful night when he’d declared his love and been laughed at like a child.  What would Brolli do to keep his Blue Goddess away from the Prince, and keep her his forever? He wondered how much of Brolli’s mind was taken by her at this moment, and he wondered how much of it was rational.
Raditsu saw the King touching her shoulders, and she stood up. Her back was straight as a needle, pressing the firm, yet tender surface of her full breasts out like a proud feline. He found himself fighting the desire to lick at them and to wring her tiny neck at the same time. Cursing silently, he shook his head until the King spoke once more.
“I am pleased, Lady. Will you leave us now? I have important matters to discuss with the Kassha’hal, and Aash’an Raditsu. If you would…console my son?  He is fond of you, I know, though you would not see it.  Perhaps your voice would be just the thing he needs.”
Raditsu saw the muscles in Brolli’s arms tense as Bulma smiled radiantly. He thought that perhaps the King had no inkling of the way in which he’d just bruised the Kassha’hal’s throbbing heart. In typical form, though, Bulma bowed again.
"I shall certainly try, Zarshon-kalan."
And then her body was passing by his, the fruited scent of her skin, and the undeniably female odor of her assaulting his senses like a great ship colliding in his mind. As she passed, her eyes came upon him. He could not bear the look of slight triumph in them, and turned his own face away, hoping that it meant nothing but her smug, silent victory over Vejiita-sei. Just for Chikyuu…
When the door shut behind her, Raditsu breathed a silent sigh of relief. And then the thought of the torn bits of Vejiita-sei invaded his mind again.

Vejiita’s fingers were nearly tearing the stone off of the railing, piece by piece.  He watched as his knuckles turned white and the blood pounded in the veins beneath his fiery skin. Anger was the only thing he knew, and fury his only company. For a moment, he pondered splitting open the pillar that sat to his right. It was simply all too much…  Too much to take in and too much to understand. Vejiita-sei, gone? And Furiza, that bastard! Prickly little ribbons of flesh-eating wrath sat within Vejiita’s stomach and ate away at the lining.  He thought for sure that he’d vomit here and now. And the acidic fluid would probably eat away at the marbled floor beneath him…
The Prince lifted his fingers from the balcony railing and paced before it. How could his father have completely overlooked his responsibility to the situation? Instead he’d recruited that cocksure ass-kisser Brolli.  Gods…  It nearly made his head split with raging jealousy. He should be the one leading the raid on Yuki-sei, and he should be the one to blow the fucking thing to smithereens. The idea that those slithering bastards had even the gall to suggest that a mere asteroid had destroyed such a great and monumental planet as Vejiita-sei--!  The thought of it made his head spin still. The Empire had been prolific for centuries and now a mere band of rebellious ice-monsters had blown it up in the blink of an eye?
Finally, when he could take the silence no longer, Vejiita strode down the main hallway towards his chambers, fully intent on destroying perhaps some native animal life…  His stride increased as he stomped down the halls. And, gods, he couldn’t wait to get this battle suit off. The sweat he’d been accumulating since Nappa’s transmission was getting too much to bear under its high, skin-tight collar. It felt like there was a great insect scratching away at his flesh. Growling irritably, he reached the chamber door and kicked it open without using the panel.  It blinked a warning at him, and the doors fluttered on their hinges.  A few pieces of splintered fiber hit the ground, and as he slammed the door behind him, he incinerated one to smoking ribbons with a single blast from his finger.
After unzipping the back of his battle suit, he folded it down to waist level and unlocked the stabilizer on his belt. It held a few of his personal belongings and had gotten him used to this wretched gravity, but it felt more like a burden now. Finally, he pressed a few choice buttons on his transmitter and waited.
"Zarshi-kalan? Suukah."  The voice of one of his personal guards floated through the transmitter as the screen flickered to life.
"Sergeant Kale! I want you to do something for me." Vejiita lowered his voice, glancing around quickly. The other soldier nodded in the small vid screen.
"Of course, My Prince…"
Vejiita let his lips curl for a brief second.
"Once we’ve set a course for Yuki-sei, I want constant surveillance on the Kassha’hal Brolli," he let the name sneer off of his lips with disdain, "I want to make sure he’s not allowed to take control.  It can’t be allowed, Kale, do you understand me?"
"Kashidulok.  Without hesitation, Sire.  But, the Aash’an Raditsu, what of him?"
Vejiita paused and came into thought. Yes, Raditsu posed a bit of a problem if he was to keep a close eye on Brolli. Regretfully so…  Raditsu was one of the few men he trusted.
"He is in command," Vejiita said slowly, "let him do as he pleases. If he breaks his word to me, I’ll kill him myself."
The Sergeant nodded on the vid screen and agreed. Vejiita shut the tiny apparatus and sighed, tossing it on the plush, oh, so welcoming mattress of his bed. But no, not yet. The time to retire would come soon enough, but he had much on his mind. He sighed once more and went over to the closet containing his personal effects and searched for a more appropriate outfit. He was going to go see that blue-haired Chikyuu-jin and he was going to absolutely fuck her brains out—enough to get out of her what he needed. She knew more than he was sure Brolli, Raditsu, or even his father was aware of, and he intended to discover it.
"There’s no need to change, Prince Vejiita," a smooth, feminine voice startled him from behind. Ah, just the wench he was thinking of!  "What you’re donning at this moment is quite appropriate, I assure you."
Vejiita whirled around and searched the room. All the gods! How could I have missed her ki signature?! Distracted…yes that’s it. He squinted in irritated confusion and clenched his fists.
"Show yourself, woman! I am in no mood to play games."
From the shadows of a dark corner near his balcony, movement caught his eye. The woman was clad in a blood red cloak that was currently hooding most of her features, and as she stepped from the shade of the curtains her silhouette became clearer. The woman pushed back her hood, her face a clear sheet of sympathy. Though he was sure most of it was as fraudulent as Furiza’s smile, she tilted her chin up a bit and raised her eyebrows ruefully.
"You must be quite distracted and…distraught." Her voice purred, appealing to him in a way few females were able to. But Vejiita would not allow himself to be coddled quite so easily. He allowed his upper lip to curl.
"Your sympathy is quite stunningly sincere," he said, approaching her slowly, "unfortunately, I don’t need it. Nor do I think you’d like to give it." He paused again and stopped by her side. The rush of air that accompanied him blew the graceful sweep of her hair across her swan-like neck. She watched him with wary, yet determined eyes. Vejiita couldn’t help but smile as he lifted a hand to her ear and brushed a lock of her hair away. "You don’t feel sorry for me."  He murmured. His fingers flickered slowly down until they reached the clasp of her cloak.  "Stay awhile?" Vejiita flicked open the clasp and watched her face as it slid off of her bare shoulders to reveal the shimmering, nearly sheer violet gown she wore. It complemented her complexion nicely, he thought.
When he’d turned to finish ridding himself of the battle suit, her voice followed him.
"I offered no sympathy, Zarshi-kalan.”  She said.  “It is fruitless to offer it since your people don’t seem to understand such a thing."
Vejiita had to chuckle at that, and felt her following him very slowly.
"Whatever makes you come to that conclusion, Lady Bulma?" He slid the thick material of his gloves from his fingers and tossed them towards his closet. The woman’s voice laughed quietly behind him. Her ki aura was suddenly very close and he waited, anticipatory sweat beading on his forehead. Her fingers came next, slicing him down the middle of his back with a touch so gentle that it demanded control.
"Enough with the formalities, Zarshi-kalan."  She was breathing against his skin, brushing it with her lips.  "You have something I want.  You took it from me and I want it back."
Vejiita allowed himself a shudder, but made sure it was undetectable. He then raised an eyebrow in undeniable amusement.
"Something you want? How fortuitous, My Lady, I seem to remember that you also have something I want."  He turned to face her, and for once reveled in his height, for his mouth was quite close to hers.   He was but a few inches taller, and it made her slight body all the more accessible to him.  She was breathing heavily, but he sensed that some of that quickened intake was not just from desire, but also from fear. He leaned forward, and let the outline of his bottom lip trace the tip of her nose. "An exchange then?"
She was laughing quietly, and the scent of her fruited lips enticed him beyond reason.
"An exchange? What could I possibly have that you need, Vejiita-Zarshi?"
Vejiita found that her taunting was nearly as arousing as her very appearance. He breathed deeply and nipped at her upper lip.
"How quickly you’ve forgotten." He paused, leaning his head to the side. She was weakening already, he noticed, when he saw her eyes shut. "You know what I want from you, larushinta.  What use would you have for that insignificant piece of tech I stole from you, when I could give you--anything you want. You know that, don’t you?"
Her retort was smart and quick, but lingering and breathless.
"Your planet is gone!" She snapped, leaning into the tender caresses he had begun to trace on her belly.  "And your Empire will soon be at war with a formidable foe! What use are your promises now?!"
Vejiita made it a point to make his voice sound as genuine as possible, though it was becoming more difficult to control himself with each passing second. Frustration boiled in his veins as hot as fresh-flowing blood.
"I think," he said slowly, his tongue darting out to flick against her ear, "a woman like you has no use for lands, titles and money. I know one thing that you really want."
Bulma was sighing against him, and her hands were reaching up to grip his shoulders. Vejiita reached behind her to press a palm flat against the small of her back. The memory of her sweet little gasps and moans when he’d cornered her earlier that day echoed in his brain. Finally, she spoke.
"Do you?" she asked; her voice was a whisper now. Vejiita retained the cackle that lay dormant in his throat at the moment, and smirked against her soft, perfumed skin.
"Of course."  His hands were becoming both frantic and unguarded. He cursed himself silently for it, but couldn’t help grabbing and groping at her breasts like a bloody virgin.  "I know what Brolli can’t give you;" he growled into her neck, "a challenge.  I can give you that, Lady Bulma." He paused, and suddenly his instinct seemed to take over. The animal inside of him set his tail ruffling. "I can give you more than you can take."
It was the wrong thing to say, but Vejiita braced himself for the onslaught about to overtake him. Both of her arms came up to push away from him. To prevent her escape, Vejiita locked his arm around her waist and clenched it painfully about her fragile midsection. To his surprise, she growled.
"You give yourself more credit than you deserve," Bulma fumed, "if your kassha’hal, your chosen one and the strongest of your kind cannot live up to my expectations—what in all the gods’ names makes you think you can?!"
Vejiita was through playing the games now, and he found himself quickly losing control. Mating with the creature was all he really cared to do at this current time, and piss on her willingness to do so. It’d be better if she were biting and kicking and screaming anyway. At least she’d let loose some of that beast inside of her—she’d thrash about like a Saiya-jin female in heat. That thought pleased him, and he reached behind her head to grip a large quantity of her flowing blue hair. The woman let out a positively delightful little squeal that sent his mouth straight to her lips.
And she did fight, oh yes she fought admirably, he thought. She pushed and protested under his violent kiss, flailing her legs against his waist when he turned to shove her up against the wall. That violet, soft dress had to go, Vejiita thought, and so he gripped both sides of its neckline and ripped it down the center like a sheet of paper. Bulma screeched again into his mouth and clamped her teeth down upon his bottom lip. Perhaps it was meant to deter his roving mouth, but it only made the blood sing more loudly in his ears and fuel his rather unceremonious assault. He smiled against her brave attempt and gripped the sides of her head to still its movement. Vejiita wondered if she weren’t doing it all on purpose. She’d been with Saiya-jin men enough to know what they liked. Ah, but that was the best part.
Her mid-section was bared to him now; all that remained of that icing-like dress torn to ribbons until it reached her lovely waist. Vejiita let go of her head and slid both hands into the torn dress. Her milky soft skin was supple and inviting under his fingertips, and for a moment he blanked out on his true purpose: total and complete domination of her wild spirit. He knew it would take much more than one coupling, but he found himself not objecting to this aspect. For her garment-laced breasts were as exquisite as the rest of her, though he much preferred for them to be completely bare. Vejiita decided he liked the frilly thing, and he stroked it ever so lightly with his fingers. The woman’s movements were slowing now, and he was only slightly disappointed that she’d given up the fight so easily. But her small hands were still pushing against his shoulders futilely. He decided he’d give her a new chance and pin her wrists to the wall with one hand.
The new restraint refueled her virulence, and she arched her back so that her hips were pressing against his and attempting freedom once more. Vejiita could not help but grin against her mouth at this, for the movement was throwing him off balance ever so slightly, making it difficult to continue his groping. Finally, he decided, it was time to test her. The scent of arousal was so heavy on her that he wondered how much longer he himself could hold out. The painful hardness between his legs was pushing him against her more heavily now, and despite his desire and playfulness he did not wish to hurt her. Vejiita cautiously broke his kiss, opening his eyes to see that her lips were swollen, and her eyes lidded with fury and passion. His hands now slid down to the small of her back, and he pressed her against the firebrand between his legs. Bulma whimpered when he ground himself into her.
"Giving up so easily, little tease?" He breathed against her mouth; "I had the impression you’d be fighting me all the way."
To his complete surprise, she growled once more and reached out to snatch a handful of his hair as he had done before to her lovely blue locks. Curiously, she locked her legs around his waist. Warm, dampness surrounded him until she said, tugging quite painfully on his hair,
"Why don’t we get down to particulars, Zarshi-kalan?" This time she tugged so hard that his neck actually bent backwards. His grip tightened reflexively on her waist. Her mouth was probing around his chin now, and she bit at it.  "Instead of pretending like you want to make me a happy girl, why don’t you just fuck me and leave it at that?" Her word left his eyes wide and somewhat confused. Vejiita gulped when she spoke again, "Because you see, Vejiita-Zarshi..." her voice was softening and reaching a level of pouty, pitiful whine that made his erection throb.  "It hurts me ever so much to be this hot for you. I wanted you the first time I saw you, you know?
She was rubbing her wet heat against him again, and he felt himself loosing the grip he had on the cliff of control. Bulma was reaching down with her other hand to slide the rest of his battlesuit from his hips. Vejiita groaned so low in his throat that it came out like a snarl.  His cock was free now, and her mouth was licking a slow trail down his throat.
"Let go of my hair, woman," he barked, "let it go." For a reason unbeknownst to him, her fingers loosed, and his neck and head were able to move once more. More quickly than he knew she could follow, he pushed away from the wall and reached behind himself to unlock her legs from his waist. With a yelp, her body was flung before him on the bed before she could react. Vejiita reached out to take her throat enough so that she could not cry out, but so that she could still breathe.  "I could if I wanted to, you know..." he hissed into her face, "gods, I could fuck you until you bleed all over the pretty carpet!"
"Then why don’t you?!" She choked out the words, and Vejiita swore she was smiling underneath his grip. He would have smirked if she didn’t look so devilishly sure of herself. Instead, he allowed his thumb to trace her chin, her bottom lip.
"Because I don’t believe that’s what you really want, Lady Bulma," he whispered, watching as she shut her eyes against his voice. His black eyes roved her for a bit longer...gods, and he did want to mate with the creature until she begged him to stop or passed out from the exertion.  Instead he kissed her mouth delicately and released her neck only a bit. "I think you want a man to love every inch of you until you can’t bloody stand it anymore. You want someone to make love to you, don’t you?" He leaned even closer and touched her mouth with both hands. "Don’t you?"
With a shriek, she pushed him away fully from her trembling form. He stood, watching her frail body shake with fury and fear until she quickly slid from the bed and snatched the discarded red cloak from the floor.
"All the gods damn you!" She screamed as she tied the knot around her neck. "Fuck you! I hope your murderous race gets incinerated by the Aisu-jin!! I hope every last one of you gets raped or beaten or stripped of your own skin or—or—!"  She was sobbing aloud now, sending spasms of confusion through his body. "I don’t care!!" Her voice was shrill with anger. "I only wish I could have been there to see those Saiya-jin brats screaming for their lives just like the children of Chikyuu!!"
With that, she fled for the door and slammed her palm against the open panel. It shuddered open and, with one last deathly glare, she stormed from his chamber. Vejiita stood in silence, her words a painful echo in his mind. Irritation with her insolence began to overshadow his guilt, and he bit down upon his cheek.  Now, and especially in this time of extreme need for an ally, he vowed to enslave the little thing’s soul.
Vejiita shook his head and placed both palms over his ears when the echo of her voice did not stop.
Those Saiya-jin BRATS...  BRATS screaming just like the children of Chikyuu!!