Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Revenge: An Earthling's Retribution ❯ Chapter 3

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

Chapter Three

Bulma moaned groggily as her eyes reluctantly opened. The room was dark and dank and she was in no doubt as to where she was.

The images of her encounter with the Saiyan King and later her unfortunate encounter with the Prince flashed through her mind in broken bits and pieces. Although she had no problem putting those pieces together. She groaned at her stiff muscles and at being caught red handed over her murder.

She frowned but found her skin felt tight like it couldn’t move inside of a face mask. She gingerly got up from the hardness of the cot she had been sleeping on and set her feet upon the ground. She noticed her ankle was not broken anymore. Lifting her hands up she could see the green residue of the regen tanks liquid encrusted all over her body.

“Urgh.” She muttered in distaste as she stood up slowly.

She didn’t feel dizzy or tired after the disastrous activities of last night, but she did feel sick knowing that Vegeta had kept to his promise of healing her. Bulma sighed. ‘Which meant he would definitely keep to his word on torturing me. I need to get out of here as soon as possible. But how?’ She thought.

There were no lights in her cold little prison but she could tell that the fluorescent globes from the outside of her cell dimly lightened the room so she could at least notice her surroundings. It was disgusting, its foul stench seeming to radiate from the concrete walls. To her left she noticed a toilet and small sink. That was it, except for the single steel cot she had awoken from. She looked towards her right and that was when she felt dizzy.

She immediately covered her mouth and turned her back on the sight that made her feel very nauseous. Bulma closed her eyes, breathing deeply to try and regain her composure. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen death before but it still affected her when she stumbled upon it without having the time to mentally prepare herself. There was a dead body in the far right hand corner of the cell. It looked like it hadn’t been dead for very long as there was still flesh on its bones. However it was long enough for tiny maggots to be feasting upon the dead flesh. There were orange smears of hand prints and dried puddles of the same colour near the body. She could only assume it was the victim’s blood.

Not wanting to end up like the victim in the corner of the cell she walked towards the grimy steel bars that kept her caged in. She noticed there was a cell directly opposite hers but it was empty. She reluctantly placed her face against the bars and turned towards the direction of the light. Bulma’s head reared away from the metal bars in surprise.

She had come face to face with a large, bald headed man that was growling at her like a big bear. She hadn’t expected to see someone guarding the cells as it seemed she was the sole occupant in the dungeons. She had only planned to check out her surroundings to form an escape plan. She had been unprepared to face anyone else. Cursing, she slowly – like a frightened but inquisitive child – looked through the bars once again. This time the giant just raised his eyebrows at her.

“Who are you?” She asked the first question that popped into her brilliant mind. He was shirtless, and his bulging muscles made her gulp in fear. He wore only a pair of black briefs that she thought looked ridiculous on his big built. She also noticed a brown tail wrapped protectively around his large waist.

He didn’t respond to her and continued to look at the papers he currently read. Annoyed that he was ignoring her, had Bulma growling almost as good as he had. But she seemed not to garner any response from him.

“Hey you big brute I asked you a question.” Bulma yelled. Still he seemed not to acknowledge her presence accept for another growl at her insult. “Maybe he can’t speak. That’s why he keeps growling at me like an animal.” She taunted with derision. Bulma enjoyed saying inappropriate, offensive and sometimes hateful words that could spark a reaction from the hardest of rocks. She enjoyed it immensely. It was her own personal little weapon.

This seemed to annoy the Saiyan more than her other comments had and Bulma hid a smug smile from him.

“For your information I am the Prince’s personal Guard. I know you met him last night.” The bald guy smiled wickedly at her and Bulma couldn’t help the heat that radiated from her face. Not for his lewd comment but for reminding her that she had failed somewhat last night.

“What’s your name?” She asked conversationally and she noticed this confused the brute.

“Nappa.” He seemed to reply as an afterthought, with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders. She was also almost always capable of having her questions answered.

“Well Nappa, why don’t you be a good little guard and let me out. I can handle the Prince on my own. But I would like a shower and some fresh clothes first.”

The large Saiyan called Nappa just snorted at her demands and looked back at his papers. However she wasn’t always able to get her way in this world.

“Hey, I said let me out.” Bulma screeched as she clutched furiously at the steel bars of her prison. “Are you selectively deaf or something? I refuse to be held captive against my will.” Her piercing voice growing shriller in the enclosed area of the dungeons.  

Before Bulma could say anymore Nappa was already standing before her. His large hands covered her very small ones over the metal bars. Due to his large width he blocked the light from where he had been guarding the cell. She could only dimly make out his shiny head and the flashing whiteness of his eyes in the almost darkened place.

“You don’t have any will here you stupid little girl. Now shut up and sit down quietly before I shut you up myself.” He threatened sharply as his hands squeezed her fingers tightly in warning. “Do you understand?”

All Bulma could do was nod and bite her tongue to hold back a groan of pain. His face was close to hers and his wretched smelling breath was making it hard for her to breathe freely. He smiled smugly at her as her eyes glazed over with pain. He released her but not before giving her fingers one more painful squeeze.

Bulma immediately stepped away from the cell bars holding her throbbing fingers together. “Brute.” She muttered, giving his broad back a withering glare, although she knew he would hear her. Saiyan hearing was better than a human’s hearing after all. Though he seemed to ignore her last retort and went back to his guarding post.

Bulma paced the filthy stone floor in her cell trying to think of a way out. She could easily open a capsule and unlock her cell but she was sure Nappa didn’t sleep deeply enough for her to get past him. Especially if he was the Prince’s guard and had been given the duty to watch over her. She found it quite strange that she hadn’t been stripped off her clothes or that her possessions hadn’t been removed from her either. Even her heels were still buckled securely around her ankles. They couldn’t have been that dumb. But she didn’t ponder on it for too long as she felt extremely lucky and grateful to have her precious capsules with her.

She walked over towards the slimy sink and opened the grimy tap. She used the water to try and rinse the tap and basin before lowering her head. She scrubbed at the hardened healing liquids on her face until she felt completely clean. Then she rubbed some water over her head. She wasn’t pleased to have to use the dried regen liquid as gel for her hair but she brushed her displeasure away. She pushed her bangs away from her face and went to sit down on the cot. As she braided her waist length hair she tried to find a way to escape in her brilliant mind. Once her long, blue tresses were neatly put together she stood up and resumed her pacing.

She could have really done with a smoke break at that moment, unfortunately though her only pack of cigarettes had been damaged in the regen tank. It was beyond frustrating without the calming properties of nicotine filling her lungs.

As she continued to walk, tapping the side of her chin thoughtfully or biting her right thumb whenever she couldn’t work around some plot she realised that the room was suddenly eerily quiet. Nappa’s faint snoring had completely stopped. Raising a finely arched eyebrow Bulma walked quietly towards the cell’s bars and peered at Nappa. The giant’s head seemed to be bowed low over his neck, his chin touching his chest.

“Could he be sleeping that deeply?” She asked herself softly. “Well there’s only one way to find out. This may be my only chance.” She said to herself as she quickly walked over to the tiny steel cot. She was just about to reach inside the front of her now stiff dress when the unmistakable clink of an opening lock was heard. She swallowed slowly as the bars of her cell creaked open.

Cautiously Bulma turned to face the person who had opened her cell. Apprehension and fear was immediately replaced with a wicked smile at the person standing before her.

‘Maybe there’s a way out of here after all.’

Zorn eventually sat down on a tall stool after all the frustrated pacing he had been doing in the med bay.

His comrade and head lab technician, Bardock, watched him from the corner of his eyes and sighed. To say he had been shocked to see Zorn come into his lab and order whoever had been inside out, would be an understatement. An even bigger one would have been to see Zorn unravel what he had been holding in his hand.

Zorn had placed a huge piece of crème carpet on an examination table and had opened it to reveal what looked like the Saiyan King. It had taken a good few moments for Bardock to gather his train of thoughts. Long enough for Zorn to eventually knock the younger Saiyan over his head of unruly hair.

Now they were both awaiting the blood test results so they could figure out what had happened to their King. It had been a long night indeed. They were both on edge, exhausted from the tension that coiled around their bodies.

Zorn had been the King’s right hand man ever since Bardock could remember. It was uncharacteristic for Saiyan’s to show emotion over death but he could tell that this was taking its toll on Zorn. Although Bardock didn’t dare recommend rest to Zorn. He was more likely to get blown threw the head than have Zorn leave to rest. Besides, if the Prince really had entrusted his father to Zorn and himself then they needed to work together. The Prince couldn’t expect to keep the King’s death a secret forever. The Saiyan’s respected and valued their King way too much not to notice his sudden disappearance.

The fact that the King was now dead left Zorn and Bardock feeling very susceptible to danger. They weren’t a race that scared easily, but with everything that was happening with Frieza lately, deadly apprehension was beginning to snake its way around their chests.

Just then a soft beeping sound broke through the reverie the two Saiyans had been in. None of them had spoken after the initial hour of discussing what could have happened to their King. When they had decided on blood tests they had gone into brooding silences while awaiting the results. Now they turned to look at one another. Apprehension keeping them firmly in their places.

Zorn nodded, his face tense, as he rose first from his seat. Bardock got up from his own seat and went to the fax like machine as Zorn followed him. Bardock waited for the machine to print out the blood test results.

“It seems like he was poisoned.” Bardock stated in utter disbelief as his experienced eyes read through the test results.

“How could a poison do something like this to our King without him knowing it?” Zorn asked in equal shock. Saiyan’s could smell poison from a mile away. They also weren’t that susceptible to the properties of poison. They could have easily registered what was happening to their bodies and sought help before serious damage could be done.

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before!” Bardock exclaimed in slight awe, his scientific genes overwhelmed by the poison’s potential. “It reacted to the King’s genes like a catalyst and caused an acidic reaction inside of him. Its effects working almost instantaneously. How the King came into contact with it is unknown though.” Bardock explained as he walked over towards the deceased body. By now the King’s body was not soft as goo anymore but had somewhat hardened itself.

The two Saiyans stood staring at their King in disbelief when they heard footsteps approaching them. They had been so engrossed in what they had uncovered about their King’s death that they had not heard anyone come in.

“I asked for discretion and yet you two were not even aware of my presence in the room.” Prince Vegeta berated as his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

Zorn and Bardock bowed to their Prince and profusely apologised.

Vegeta looked towards his father’s dead body with seemingly detached eyes. After he had arranged for his father and the woman to be taken care of he had gone to a mountainous area to blow of some steam. He stood at the top of a rock formation for hours, just staring out into the deep velvet skies of his home Planet. To a passer-by he would have seemed to just be in a meditative trance of training. Inside though, his anger had been a raging inferno.

Eventually he had let it all out. His anger had overpowered him, causing him to power up to heights he hadn’t known he was capable of. He was in uncharted territory; though he welcomed the pain that came from his body not being able to withstand such power. His skin had sizzled when he had thought about finding his father dead, his insides burning from the strong heat he radiated and he felt weak. Weak for feeling such a sense of loss over his father’s untimely death.

But the man had been his father and a good King. He was respected amongst all his people and he instilled fear in every other being he came across. Vegeta had learned so much from his father. He had admired him and aspired to be just like him.

Now the King was gone. Although Vegeta had long since surpassed his father in power he hadn’t quite felt ready to claim the throne. He was only twenty-five after all. He didn’t enjoy business politics and planetary meetings. He craved battle and lusted for blood. He enjoyed taking what he wanted using brute strength. Not to say he couldn’t do the things his father did but he had always preferred not to do it or let his younger brother, who could control his temper better, handle it.

Vegeta’s mind wandered towards his younger brother. Tarble had only recently turned eighteen and Vegeta knew he would not handle the news very well. He was one of the few Saiyans alive who related better to their emotional attributes. It was sickening and Vegeta did not have time to indulge his brother’s weaknesses, nor did the late King. So Tarble was regularly sent off Planet to use words where fists would not work. Yet even while knowing this, the youngest Prince still looked upon his kin with unashamed adoration in his dark eyes, always wanting to please them. Something that secretively made his father and brother care for him.

After Vegeta had become exhausted from powering up and his ki had been lowered down to normal he had sat atop that cliff and did something he had never done before. He had cried. He had mourned his father’s death as if he were on the brink of death himself. The moment he felt the alien wetness touch his cheeks he felt it burn his skin. He refused to mourn his father’s death in such a disrespectful way. No, he would seek revenge and that was how he would pay his last respects to his father.

“Who was the whore with my father last night?” Vegeta asked Zorn. He had overheard Bardock explain what had happened to his father. He required no more information on the matter.

“She was a common place whore sent from Nion’s house.” Zorn answered. The King rarely indulged in woman but when he did he always went to Nion. She had the best females from across the galaxy and she always ensured her girls were safe.” ‘Safe.’ Zorn’s eyes widened as he turned to look at his King and the dead man’s decomposed mouth.

Apparently Bardock had come to the same conclusion as Zorn and they both turned towards the Prince.

Vegeta nodded at their silent conclusions. “Any idea why he hadn’t contacted you using telepathy?” Vegeta asked Zorn.

“I’m not sure my Prince.” Zorn frowned at the question.

“He probably could not manage it once the poison started to settle in. His mind was most likely the first to be affected.” Bardock explained logically. “Judging by this, she obviously knew a lot about Saiyans to have something that worked this well.”

“Leave the girl to me.” Vegeta told Zorn and Bardock. “For now, keep father preserved until I’ve come up with a plan. Zorn, bring Nion to me immediately.” The young Prince commanded. “Speak of this to no one!” Vegeta warned as he walked regally out of the med bay.

The Saiyans nodded at their orders as they watched Vegeta’s red cape flutter lightly behind him.

“Unbelievable.” Bardock muttered as he looked at the dead King.

“Even so, that girl is going to have hell to pay.” Zorn cursed and all Bardock could do was nod.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the strong Saiyan warrior Kakarot.” Bulma smiled sweetly as she looked at the man before her. She saw him frown at her condescending tone but he made no attempt to speak to her as his eyes roved over her body. “Well are you just going to stand there like a statue or was there something that you needed?” She asked as she crossed her arms defensively across her chest.

“What are you doing here Bulma?” The Saiyan in her cell asked, his frown still lined on his forehead.

He had grown a lot since she had last seen him. It seemed like he had just shot up. He was no longer smaller than her or her height. Now she was looking up at him. She tried to hide a genuine smile at that. He had also grown very handsomely since she had last seen him. He seemed more mature than his nineteen years but life could do that to people. Even to a Saiyan.

“Oh I guess I wasn’t very … satisfying.” Bulma said uncaringly as she waved her hand nonchalantly through the air, as if swatting away a fly.

Kakarot raised his eyebrows at her indifference and he didn’t know what to make of it. The blue haired woman had a knack of getting herself into trouble. But when Kakarot, who had been on guard duty, had seen his Prince carry the woman into his personal chambers he had known something was wrong. Especially at her seemingly lifeless body and the unmistakable scent of blood that lingered in the hallways. He couldn’t understand the situation so he had decided to see what the Prince was up to. Vegeta had called Nappa into his chambers and left. After hours of stake out in the hallways he had seen Nappa carry a dripping wet Bulma towards the dungeons.

“I thought you didn’t work that way anymore?” Kakarot asked her.

Bulma shrugged non-committedly. “A girl has needs to take care of.”

“What did you say to the Prince that made him place you in a cell under Nappa’s watch and not kill you?” The tall Saiyan inquired.

‘My, my, aren’t we nosy today.’ Bulma thought as she hid a devious smile before looking up at Kakarot. “The Prince is a pig, something about beating me up before throwing me in a regen tank and starting the process all over again. All because I refused to fuck him.” Bulma looked up at Kakarot with her big blue eyes, trying very much to play on his conscience. She knew he had one. She had seen it. She omitted the minor details of being caught by the Prince for killing the King. “He’s obsessed with me.” Bulma lied through her pearly, white teeth.

Kakarot frowned deeply. He knew the Prince was not one to cross. He had never officially met the man before but he had heard stories from his father and older brother. The man was ruthless and powerful. He did not bear weaklings easily and his infamous temper was shorter than his tail. Or his height as Raditz had once joked. However the Prince never did anything without a good reason, Bardock had warned them. Despite the Prince’s faults, he was held in very high esteem amongst all Saiyans. His immense strength was unrivaled. If the Prince had gone to such lengths to keep Bulma, then he couldn’t interfere. Although for some reason he didn’t like the idea of the Prince hurting Bulma. His conscience wouldn’t let him.

Seeing the war Kakarot was fighting within himself, Bulma walked closer towards him. He looked down at her as she placed a small palm on his armored chest. “It’s awful Kakarot.” She spoke softly. She wasn’t lying, Vegeta was horrible. She dredged up some bitter memories from her past and allowed it to enter the forefront of her mind. When her eyes began to blur with tears she looked up at him. She saw him gulp at her glassy eyes filled with unshed tears and inwardly smiled. “Please help me.” She begged now holding both his arms and hanging back slightly to look at him. “Please.”

Kakarot shook his head. “I’m sorry Bulma. I had to knock Nappa out just to come see you. He’ll awaken soon and I must go. Even if I did let you leave now, you wouldn’t get far. The Prince will not rest until he finds you if he is obsessed with you.” The Prince was known to be very territorial after all.

Bulma let go of him and turned her back on him.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“No you’re not. This is all your fault.” She shrieked at him as she turned around to face him again. All traces of her sadness gone, replaced by bitter anger and accusation. “Why did you?”

She asked the one question that had plagued her for eight long years now. Why had he brought her here that day on Earth? He had only been a boy. Eleven years old at the time. But his strength was unrivalled. There Planet had been purged by a group of boys his age led by one adult. She thought it sick and cruel but that was before she came to understand Saiyan culture. She turned to look at him and he frowned in confusion.

“Never mind. Don’t answer that.” She shook her head at him. Maybe she didn’t want to know the answer after all. If Kakarot had said he had only saved her because of orders to gather up all the pretty ladies she would feel like she had lost a friend. And she didn’t have many of those now. She sighed. How could she have ended up in this mess? She was fond of Kakarot. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t. But that was only because of the small kindness he had shown her that day. He could have killed her.

Bulma was panting from all the running she had done, her hair was starting to loosen from its braided hold on the top of her head. She sagged against a tree to try and catch her breath, her hand on her heaving chest, all the while her eyes darting around the forest she was hiding in. She had fled West City when she had arrived home to find her City in ruins and her beloved home nothing but a pile of rubble. She couldn’t search for her parents in all the debris that had once been a beautiful dome shaped mansion, but she knew. She knew they were dead.

She had heard about the alien attack that had rocked South City while on a little excursion of hers and she knew she would have to return home. The destruction of buildings and murders of people were escalating. Bulma had watched as someone who looked exactly like one of them had appeared on the big screen outside of North City. He had claimed to be a Saiyan from another Planet and told them he would be purging Earth. There hadn’t been anyone strong enough to stop him. People tried to flee, but in the end, there was no place you could go to. You could run, but you couldn’t hide. Not in the wake of destruction.

After leaving West City, to a more secluded area in the mountains, Bulma had sought to hide herself from the Saiyans. While there, she had witnessed the aliens at work with her own eyes. The images would haunt her forever.

As she stood against the tree her eyes had landed on a space pod not far from her. She stared at the beacon of hope for a few moments before running towards it. She wiped furiously at the tears that hadn't stopped streaming down her face since seeing the heartless Saiyans at work.

Bulma spent a while in the pod trying to decipher the alien technology so she could escape the danger she was in. Just as she was making good progress she saw a little boy shuffle through the pod. He was hurt, the side of his neck revealing a ripped gash that drooled blood down his bare chest.

All thoughts of escape flew from her mind as bright blue eyes met dark black ones. She ran to his side and picked him up. She didn’t notice the confused look he gave her. He was tiny and had the wildest black hair she had ever seen. He was adorable. She had found some medical supplies on the space pod and patched the boy up. She had been so focused on his neck injury that she did not notice the tail that was wrapped protectively around his waist. That was until she scanned his tiny yet oddly muscular body for any other injuries.

Bulma shrieked and moved away from the alien boy she now recognised as a Saiyan. She pleaded with him to spare her life but he had just ignored her cries. He calmly walked towards her, at surprising ease with his injury, and picked her up. All the while his black eyes staring into her startling blue ones, entrapping her gaze, sparking some unidentifiable bond between them. She had tried to scratch, bite and kick her way out of his hold but even with being hurt, he had proved to be far too strong for her.

“Bulma.” Kakarot’s soft voice broke through her thoughts and she turned her back on him.

Kakarot could easily see that she was remembering the first time they had met through her beautiful unguarded eyes. He remembered it well too. An alien girl showing him the first sight of kindness; something he had never known before. His injury had not been life threatening as she had babbled on about when she had been bandaging him but she didn’t know that. He had been caught off guard by a human who had slashed a blade above his collar bone and his brother had told him to go to his pod and get cleaned up as they had almost been done purging the City.

She hadn’t known though. She sure talked much. But he didn’t mind. Her soft hands, gorgeous eyes and sweet voice had been unnaturally calming to him. She had soothed him in ways he had never experienced before and he found her an odd creature. Beautiful and nothing like the people he came across on missions. Nothing like his own people even. He assumed if he had known his mother, she would have had the same effect on him as Bulma had.

Bulma hadn’t looked at him with fear in her eyes that day; she hadn’t looked at him as if he were a monster. She had held him like the eleven year old brat he had been. He had never felt so confused in his life and he wanted to escape with her like she told him they would. But he remembered sighing at his thoughts, wondering where they had sprouted from. He was a third class Saiyan warrior trying to impress his elder brother and father. He had a duty to his King and Planet. He was who he was. He couldn’t turn his back on his heritage.

But he knew then that he would take the beautiful, blue haired lady with him. Maybe one day he would be able to repay the act of kindness she had bestowed upon him.

Bulma closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to banish the memories of an eleven year old Kakarot from her mind. She knew what she had to do now. It was her only way out. She steeled her resolve and opened blank eyes to turn around and stare at him. ‘I have no choice.’

“I’m sorry too Kakarot.” She told him and when he only looked more perplexed at the direction the conversation was heading in Bulma resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. “If you don’t help me escape then I’ll have no choice but to tell the Prince about your little secret.” She gave him a fake smile and shrugged easily.

She saw his beetle black eyes widen at her words and she had to bite her tongue. She saw hurt flash in his eyes before he masked it. “You wouldn’t.” He dared her.

No, she wouldn’t. However she wouldn’t let him call her bluff either. She laughed harshly. It was cold and empty. Just like her. “Oh, if it meant getting you to help me or Vegeta to let me go … I would.” She assured him staring right into his eyes so he could see how serious she was.

His eyes narrowed and he growled at her. “That was a long time ago. It didn’t hurt anyone.” He defended.

“It was.” Bulma agreed while studying her nails, in complete control of the situation. “But it did happen. And how do you think your wonderful Prince would feel when he hears he has a traitor amongst his midst? He doesn’t seem like the forgiving type to me.” Bulma chuckled blandly as she looked away from her nails and stared menacingly at Kakarot.

“It was a mistake. I didn’t mean for it to happen. And I couldn’t take it back. I didn’t have a choice. I ended it as soon as I could. You know that. You were there.” He told her.

She nodded. She had been there three years ago and she had helped him. However her reasons had been purely selfish at the time. She held some sort of familiarity of fondness for the young Saiyan but she had only helped him because what he had been doing was something she herself was working towards. Indirectly and unknowingly, he had given her a brilliant start.

“It doesn’t matter. You still aligned yourself with them. What do you think would happen when the Prince finds out?” She tapped a finger against her cheek, raising an eyebrow in fake consideration of her question. “What about your father and brother?” She delivered her final blow, her startling blue eyes focused sharply on him.

His eyes widened in disbelief at the woman before him. She seemed to be a completely different person from the one who had helped him eight years ago. His eyes narrowed, assessing her stance on the matter at hand. Seeing she was not backing down from his intense stare his fisted hands dropped loosely to his sides, defeated. “Nappa won’t be unconscious for much longer.” He told her before he left to walk out the cell again.

“Lock the cell gate would you Kakarot.” She told him coldly. He didn’t question her actions but he knew she was trying to protect him even with her blackmail and cold voice. In her own way. He knew she wasn’t as evil as she believed herself to be but he also knew that she really was bad. Very bad. However, he did owe her, he owed her twice now and if this meant repaying his debt then he would do as she asked.

“Why?” She asked again. Softer this time, his Saiyan hearing alone picking up the soft words muffled by the clang of the cell being locked again.

He sighed and looked back at her through the metal bars. “You really don’t know do you?” He asked her solemnly.

She just shook her head sadly before she lifted her blue eyes towards him. Either way she had lost her friend today. She had threatened him in the worst way possible. Bulma was too curious not to ask again. Especially if it were the last time she saw him.

“You may not know this but when I walked into my brother’s pod that day I had seen you interfering with the control panel. You didn’t have a remote for the Saiyan pod but somehow you had managed to rig an alien ship into your own language so you could fly off in it.”

Bulma gasped. She remembered it all as if it had happened yesterday. “Why didn’t you just let me go?” She demanded furiously.

“I couldn’t. There’s always scouts in the Planet’s atmosphere. Earth was no different. If you couldn’t verify your identity while leaving Earth, they would have killed you. Their job is to be on the lookout for escapees.” He explained.

“So you just let me be a whore?” She spat indignantly. Even though she always felt grateful he hadn’t just killed her.

“No.” He shook his head in wild denial. “Vegeta-sei is renowned for being involved in the Peoples Trade as well as the Planet Trade. Didn’t you wonder where all the other captured Earthlings had been sent to?”

She shook her head again. She hadn’t really remembered much about the journey from Earth to Vegeta-sei, she had blocked it out. He sighed and continued. “Well we always keep the best for ourselves before sending of the rest to be sold. I thought you’d show everyone how smart you were and they’d take you to the labs. I thought my father could keep an eye on you while there.” He shrugged as if such thoughts from a Saiyan were completely normal. Bulma was beginning to think that Kakarot was abnormal.

However it wasn’t the case here. There had been an instantaneous, inexplicable bond that had been formed between them that faithful day on Earth. It was one of those things you could never truly explain. One of those things that were just meant to be. Something that would start a chain reaction for years still to come.

Bulma felt the guilt at blackmailing him start to rise like bitter vomit at the back of her throat. She tried to swallow it back. She was an expert at reading people and she saw the truth in Kakarot’s eyes and heard the honesty in his words. She sighed.

“I hadn’t seen you until three years ago. I sought you out. But I saw you were living relatively happy with Cabba, so I left.”

At hearing that Bulma felt all her guilt at her actions fade away. No one could call her life with Cabba happy. True the stupid Saiyan had been very infatuated with her but he was no better than the rest. He would beat her every day for the simplest of things she did or didn’t do. He was sick. Although she had managed to use him enough, each day was as miserable as the days before. The only thing that kept her there was her need for security on the Planet, her need for revenge and the need to be kept away from that damn brothel. She sighed for what felt like the millionth time today and nodded. “Thank you.” She said.

Kakarot nodded and walked away from the locked cell.

“Good bye Kakarot.” Bulma whispered when he had left completely. Unbeknown to her the Saiyan warrior had uttered the very same words as he departed.

“Right, time for action Bulma.” She told herself as she pulled out a capsule from under her full bosom. Popping it open she pulled out her small hand tool. Clicking it open she slowly but efficiently unlocked her cell doors. She noticed Nappa seemed not to have moved from his lifeless position, telling her that he was still unconscious. She crept slowly towards the exit of the cell. As she passed Nappa she couldn’t resist a little bit of mischief as she smiled wickedly at the huge Saiyan.

“All done.” She said, looking proudly at the unconscious Saiyan. Then she made her way towards the stairs of the dungeon. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Bulma approached the bend in the staircase and could see light filtering from the Palace above her. She smiled broadly and picked up her pace. As she rounded the corner a flash of red made her gasp and she missed a step. She would have fell down the flight of stairs if a strong hand hadn’t held at her wrist of a flailing hand. She was roughly pulled steady onto her feet and she thanked the Gods that she hadn’t fallen down all those stairs. She would have surely died.

“Going somewhere?” A sarcastic voice drawled out as Bulma was pulled against an armored chest, her tiny palms gripping the shoulder metal to steady herself. She looked up almost timidly before her eyes widened in alarm. He smirked evilly at her panic stricken face and she felt her breath catch in her throat as she was sure her heart had stopped beating in her chest. “And here I thought we were just getting to know each other better.”

Bulma gulped loudly at the raspy voice that whispered darkly against her skin. ‘Then again, falling down a pile of stairs and dying would be better than being caught alive in the Saiyan Prince’s arms …’