Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Sing No Songs ❯ East City ( Chapter 8 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Chapter eight

Vegeta tried to remember the last time he had been outside the large Capsule complex. How long since he had felt the dampness of clouds against his face? How long since he had seen the land rush beneath him, stretching in all directions? Not since Bulma had fallen ill, that was for sure.

He found himself stalling. He could have reached the ship faster, but then he would not have been able to feel that the air was slightly warm. If he had hurried he would not have seen the thousands of white birds lifting from a lake and shattering, like an embodiment of the wind.

It would have been wrong to say that any of these things made him happy, but he did enjoy the feeling of effortlessly shooting through the sky. He liked the sense of direction, the freedom of being nowhere, of being in between. Bulma's devastating absence was just as true as before, but just for a moment, the pain seemed to have transformed into an incalculable exhilaration. He felt... reckless.

All too soon, he was there. He stopped, standing still in the air. He glanced down at the expansive view of East City. The white buildings threw sharp shadows in the morning sun. He then lifted his eyes to look at the ship that had come for him.

Destroy it!

Vegeta almost flinched as the overwhelming impulse welled up in him. A frantic battle for control was the only thing that kept him from letting the act follow the thought. He firmly pushed the anger down and even managed to hold on to his previous sense of exhilaration. Time was running short, however.

In an instant Vegeta was hovering by the entrance of the ship. He had no trouble recognising it as such, since, ironically, the word `entrance' was printed in large red letters across the portal. The writing confirmed something he already knew. These people spoke the same language that he had grown up with, the language that still dominated some of his dreams: the language of Frieza.

Vegeta stared at the writing for a moment, imagining the terror that must be spreading through the ship as they detected him on their sensors. He thought about the whole situation, looked at it as if it was a picture hung on a wall. He observed himself, by the entrance of the ship, with a fluffy pillow under his arm and his inner walls in shambles. He found the image funny, in an abstract kind of way. To complete the picture he leaned forward and lightly knocked on the door.

He had to wait several dangerous moments, before the door, with a soft whooshing sound, finally opened. By then he had almost lost his grip on the mood, but now he marched down the reviled corridor, a smirk firmly held in place.

The corridor ended in a large round room where several uniform-clad men were waiting for him. He stopped and looked at them. No one said anything and the air was heavy with fear. Finally one of the frozen figures took a few tremulous steps towards him.

“I am c-captain Asdef,” he stuttered. Then he fell silent again, searching for words.

“I am Vegeta.”

Judging by their reactions he might as well have declared their death sentences. A brief sound that might have been a whimper came from one of the soldiers. Some of them unobtrusively backed away, all but pressing their backs against the wall to get as far away from him as possible.

The captain opened and closed his mouth several times. When the words came, though, his voice was unexpectedly calm and authoritative.

“Vegeta, for the safety of the galaxy, we have come for you. Willingly or unwillingly, you shall be subjected to The Law.”

The solemn phrases held a ring of ritual. When they were spoken, the captain fell silent again, waiting for Vegeta's reaction. Large beads of sweat was trailing down his face and dripping from his chin.

The sight - the smell - of all this fear was not helping. Vegeta felt his rage respond, almost in intuitive reaction. The brittle amusement disappeared altogether. Against his will, a ferocious snarl touched his face.

“Unwillingly?” His voice was low and deeply threatening. “And how exactly had you imagined that you could force me into anything?”

“We didn't think we could,” captain Asdef said hurriedly. “We... we came here expecting to die.”

“Really?” Another time, this would have made him laugh. As it was, the statement calmed him down, it helped him to control his features once again. “Why didn't you just destroy the whole planet, like you threatened to do?”

“The Law says that as long as any other option is possible... We had to at least try.”

Vegeta nodded, and for the first time he felt a trace of respect for the sweating man in front of him.

“You had still meant to capture... to hold me somehow?” Vegeta was looking straight into the captain's eyes. This was what he had wanted to know. “You have some... device to subdue be?” The hissing language of Frieza ran without difficulty from his lips. It was as if he had never stopped speaking it.

“Not... as such.”

“I think you are lying. Why all this talk about making me come with you? Why not just try to kill me outright?”

“It is The Law. Your crimes are public, so you will face a public punishment. If possible.” As before, Asdef became strangely calm when he mentioned `The Law'.

“You still haven't answered my question.”

Vegeta deliberately let a menacing tone enter his voice once again. He remembered something he had heard once. If you want the truth, first make them fear you... He looked at the captain, who had now started to shiver.

...Then give them hope.

“I might not kill you.”

That was not even slightly subtle, but Vegeta had decided not to waste any more time. The raging beast was as good as free; he was openly wrestling with it in his mind.

Some of the strain he felt could be heard as he continued, “Just tell me the truth, the whole truth, and you shall live. The question was: Do you possess any method that would render me powerless?”

“Yes.”

Vegeta slowly let his breath out. “Show me.”

Asdef waved forth one of the soldiers, a tall, burly man with bright red hair. The red-haired man walked up to them and, carefully avoiding looking at Vegeta, he offered the captain something that looked like a band of metal. Asdef let it dangle in his grip, hesitating, before he turned to Vegeta.

“Let's sit down, shall we?”

They sat down by a small table, facing each other. The captain carefully laid the metal band down on top of the table. It was of a dull silver colour, not very long, and about two fingers in breadth.

“Well,” Asdef started. “As I understand it, all living beings have a... kind of energy, called ki, in their bodies. The energy floats between a number of power nodes, connecting them like a net.”

The captain sounded like he was giving a lecture, but then he met Vegeta's dark stare across the table and his voice trailed off.

“B-but of course, you already know that.” He cleared his throat. “There are still some people around who have the ability to use this force as a weapon... no one on this ship, though. It is not one of those ships.” The last was said with a certain amount of distaste.

“No,” Vegeta said impatiently. “This is just a ship they send, expecting everyone in it to die. Now get to the point.”

“Yes, as I was going to say, our scientists have developed a substance that disrupts the balance of this power, this ki.” Asdef drew one hand across his brow and it came down wet with sweat. “The substance needs to be injected directly into the subject's body, it's purely physical. Look.”

He rubbed his hand briefly on the trouser leg before picking up the slim metal band. Holding it in both hands, he bent it, proving it to be quite flexible. Fitting one end inside the other, apparently hollow, he formed a circle, perfectly smooth, about one decimetre across. He turned to the large, red-haired man again.

“Activate,” the captain said shortly, carefully holding the object between his fingertips, not touching the inside of the circle.

A muted mechanical sound could be heard as several fine needles appeared around the inside. They were small, no more then half a centimetre, but they seemed extremely sharp. The captain pulled on the band, demonstrating that he now was unable to open it.

“Let me guess,” Vegeta said dryly. “This goes around the neck of the subject.”

“Yes.” Asdef muttered, not meeting Vegeta's eyes. “The needles provide a constant dosage of the substance, that is called Avadrug, by the way.”

Vegeta reached out and took the slim circle in his hands. Nine needles, he counted.

“The whole truth,” he reminded the captain, who at those words became remarkably calm. Like he had reached the point of no return.

“Avadrug is a poison. It disrupts the balance of the whole body; it affects the brain and might even cause damage on the cellular structure. Ultimately it will result in death.”

“Figures.” He glanced at Asdef, who shifted in his seat. “And the dosage is... set accordingly?”

“Yes. It's very high.”

He motioned to the same red-haired soldier who did something on his control board, causing the tiny needles to subtract. Vegeta felt the object became lax in his hand, he pulled the ends apart and laid it back on the table. Thinking about what he was about to say, the smirk returned to his countenance.

“I suggest-“, Vegeta started, but he was interrupted by a loud shout from one of the soldiers.

“Captain!” The soldier looked up from a screen. His rather youthful face was wearing an alarmed expression. “I detect some activity in the human city below. It appears like they are preparing a missile attack!”

“Lethal?” the captain asked sharply.

“Massive nuclear.”

“Make ready to intercept!”

“But, sir!” The young soldier protested nervously. “We don't have the time to reset our weapons. They are still set for planetary scale.”

“Never mind that!” the red-haired man scouted across the room. “Firing at us is still treason against The Galaxy!”

Vegeta had heard enough. His decision was faster then a heartbeat and without waiting for doubts or second thoughts, he was moving. Rushing down the corridor, he left through the portal, which might have been open or closed, he cared not, as long as he was outside, looking down on the city below.

The large city looked still and empty, much like most cities did at such a distance. But he did not think about that now.

He had gathered energy in his right hand, curling his fingers around a solid globe of power.

A gust of wind tugged at his shirt and he briefly closed his eyes. He grabbed his right wrist as if for support, although his hand did not tremble. His hand was rock steady.

As he let go of the power he found himself smiling.

It hurt. He had not bothered to adapt his body to this amount of energy, so he scorched his hand and something tore in his shoulder. Something tore in his heart too. And still he was smiling, smiling at whatever, at the irony perhaps. For, all in all, it felt kind of good, this great ejaculation of power.

He did not wait for the dust to settle. He knew what he would see, he had seen it countless times before. He turned his back before the destruction came into view and entered the ship once again.

Ignoring all the stares following his every movement, Vegeta walked up to the small table and stopped behind the chair he had recently occupied. As he started to reach for the metal band, he noticed without surprise that he was still carrying Bulma's pillow, tightly holding it under his left arm. Putting it down on the table, he used both hands to bend the slim metal around his neck. He fitted it together and pulled it tight. The silence was absolute.

“Well,” he said, feeling the snug metal move coldly against his throat as he talked. “What are you waiting for? Activate!”