Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Space Station Z ❯ Welcomes ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: DBZ and its characters are not mine. And if they were, I would still have to hide it from my friends…

Space Station Z

Chapter Three

By RM

She chewed on the end of a pencil, the pink eraser beginning to harden in some places and crumble in others. She was staring off into space again, and she knew it, although there was very little to be said for the fact, and even less to be said for the Quantum Physics and Theories lecture she was trying to ignore.

"Something interesting out there Miss Briefs?" The professor, a short, balding Dutch man with bad breath announced to the class very loudly, and in very broken English.

Bulma tore her gaze away from the dirty windows and sat up straighter as the professor cleared his throat and continued on without a comment from her.

"I'm sure you'd be able to tell us all about the exciting world of pulsars?"

She stared at him blankly for several moments as she thought about the discussion before she wandered off in the hopes of something more interesting out of the window. Of course, she could tell him quite a bit about pulsars, and any other topic he could come up with, but she wasn't about to start in on that one. Just play dumb, she kept thinking to herself.

The class waited and there was the unmistakable sound of several people shifting uneasily in their seats, it wasn't until several moments later that she realized they were all wearing pink leotards and tutu's.

"Yamcha," the professor turned to stare at the dark haired man in his late teens sitting towards the middle of the room, and in the middle of a large group of co-eds. She wondered briefly just how many of them had thrown themselves at him in an attempt to take him away from her.

Yamcha smirked at Bulma as he stood up to answer the question, his pink body suit and puffy, light pink tutu bouncing slightly as his body turned to face the professor.

Bulma groaned as she turned to gaze out of the window once more, fixing her glittering tiara before doing so. "Showoff."

Her eyes flew open and she was momentarily blinded by a huge lamp, which had been discourteously aimed right where it would cause the most discomfort when she came to.

"Where am I?" She heard herself croak out. Her lips were dry and chapped and her head was pounding. Either she'd had too much to drink the night before or she'd been hit by a bus.

She was rather hoping she could opt for the first explanation.

Bulma winced as she propped herself up on her elbows. She felt winded as she tried to sit up long enough to take in her surroundings and she felt an awful lot of pain on the right side of her body. The room wasn't huge, but it wasn't small. It was a nice cozy bedroom. It was the kind of bedroom that any woman with a down home attitude would have, and it was the kind of room that Bulma herself never had time to maintain. The bed was a good size, big enough for two but more than comfortable enough for one. It was covered in fluffy pillows, which she was more than thankful for, and was adorned with a sturdy yet intricate pink and blue stitched quilt. The furniture was all natural wood, and there was a little fireplace with a white, wooden screen against the far wall complete with a rocking chair and a small round table beside it. Currently, the small table was holding a white ceramic teakettle, steeping what smelled like tea.

"Where am I?" She found herself repeating again. She fell back against the pillows and began to rub her head, trying desperately to remember what she had been doing before she found herself here.

"Good," she heard a very calm, reassuring voice call from the doorway just before she heard the soft click of the door, "you're finally awake."

When she looked up she saw a young man walking towards her. He was medium height with a slender build, and his black hair was straight and almost down to his shoulders. He wore a white lab coat, a bright red scarf stuffed into the lower side pocket. He wore a delicate pair of spectacles on the bridge of his nose and he looked down it with piercing blue eyes as he scribbled something onto his clipboard. He looked harmless enough, but she felt that there was something about him that wasn't quite…human.

"Where am I?" She stated again, pulling the sheets further up towards her chin.

"In a bed in the guest quarters," the man replied plainly, putting the clipboard down on a narrow bookshelf. He removed his glasses and folded them, placing them into another one of his lab coat pockets. "We were beginning to wonder if you'd ever wake up. Your friends are all quite worried about you."

She bit her lip nervously as she remembered the others. Her crewmates.

"Oh, they're fine," he waved off her coming question. "But I'm sure you'd probably like to know more about your current situation."

She nodded, a bit unnerved by his too cool and aloof manner.

"I'm #17," he stated this time as he held his hand out to shake hers. She eyed it carefully before allowing him a quick shake. "I'm here under the direction of Dr. Gero."

She felt her whole body sizzle at the mention of Dr. Gero's name. Could it be? When her father had left Earth some fifteen years ago, he had left with a small team of scientists, Dr. Gero being one of them.

"You're currently floating aboard the Spacestation. Spacestation `Z' as it's called in these parts. It's the last outpost in this quadrant, and a terribly long way from anywhere of any importance. Most of the worlds in this system are very backwards, I'm afraid. Technologically of course, but they offer a nice retreat from time to time."

She stared at the man called #17 for a moment until her gaze fell elsewhere, still stuck on the fact that he had mentioned Dr. Gero.

"Miss Briefs?" He began again as he ducked down towards her line of vision, which had wandered towards the small, brick fireplace. "If you're up to it, there are a few visitors who are outside who would very much like to see you."

Her head snapped around and she blinked twice before making her reply. "Yes, I think I can handle some visitors." She finally managed out. "Could I have a glass of some water?" She added as she looked around the room for something to drink out of.

"I have some tea ready for you. It's a special blend. Great for health issues," he informed her as he poured her a small cup and brought it over to the bed. It wasn't too hot, she was happy to discover and she drank it quickly before placing it on a small bedside table.

#17 smiled down at her and walked back towards the door he had first entered through, stepping outside for a moment as the door slid open with a soft hiss and click. When he came through again, he was proceeded by a pretty blonde woman, her hair done up in a French twist and her face happy and smiling. There was also a man wearing a lab coat. She could recognize that purple hair and bushy moustache anywhere.

Her heart caught in her throat and after all these years she could think of but one thing to say.

"Daddy!"

*****

There were many things that Chi Chi believed in, and one of those things was that she would get motion sickness in front of everyone on her first visit to an orbiting space station. She'd often had mini-nightmares that she would be floating about, minding her own business when blam! Puke everywhere. And of course, she believed that she would have eaten something like a big bowl of carrots.

Then again, she also believed that it would greatly depend on the size of the station.

In this case, it was huge. And, she noted, extremely well built, which was a whole world away from the satellites they boasted back home.

Worlds away.

Back home.

She hadn't gone into the mission cold turkey. She knew, as well the others did, that things could get hectic and hairy at any moment. She just hadn't counted on it happening the way it did. In her pajamas.

And she certainly hadn't expected that they all would have survived it.

Floating about in space with only one component of the life support systems wasn't something she would consider doing again. While she hadn't remembered anything in exact detail, she did remember the explosion. It hadn't been a large explosion, but it didn't really have to be large and impressive to do monumental damage. In the end, the blast served to knock them all in the small cockpit while sheering the ship in two. They'd essentially been packed into the small space with a few canisters of breathable air. Both Yamcha and Bulma, who probably had the best understanding regarding what happened outside of the craft, had been knocked out completely. Krillin was knocked for a loop for several minutes, and Marron and herself had managed out the best with the least amount of damage. The wounds had been mostly just scrapes and abrasions and on the whole, no one had lost any limbs. They had all been very lucky.

Yamcha, however, had been the exception. When the blast expanded down the corridor, the two who were in the most danger had been Bulma and Yamcha, since everyone else were somewhat protected by either consoles or partial walls. Chi Chi remembered closing her eyes, but not before seeing Yamcha move with a speed and grace that she hadn't known him to possess, deflecting most of the blast with his own body, shielding Bulma protectively, and in effect, saving her life. The end result had left him somewhat scarred, two deep gouges running down his left cheek and another one which ran near his right eye. It was the most heroic thing she had seen a man try to do so far. It was something she would never have expected from someone like Yamcha. She supposed there was a whole other side to the man that perhaps she knew little about, and she had come to respect him a lot more for it.

She sighed as she watched the huge, blue planet the station orbited. In was certainly beautiful, and in many ways it reminded her of Earth, minus all of the green and brown bits.

"Bulma's up," Marron announced as she nonchalantly walked through the room, her reflection in the large glass pane dancing through space. Chi Chi was sure she felt at home there. When she turned around to regard the blue haired woman, Chi Chi found her pouring herself a drink from a very ornate dry bar.

Marron noticed the other woman's thoughtful gaze on her and smiled. "I talked to that doctor. He's kinda cute, but way creepy. Have you noticed?"

"No," Chi Chi replied honestly, "I haven't really looked."

"Isn't this place great?" Marron continued on, moving to a different topic rapidly. "It's just like a upscale hotel. And just imagine! Bulma will be moving into the suite with us today, and it'll be one big girls' room!"

"Marron," Chi Chi began, a bit uncertainly as she turned to look out of the large window once again. "We can't stay here."

"Why not?" Marron half pouted. "Daddy said we can stay for as long as we want."

"What about getting home?" Chi Chi questioned, a slight frown creasing her brow.

"What about it?" Marron shrugged.

She sighed again, thinking about it. By all accounts, she should be ecstatic. They had not only found most of the original expedition they were looking for, but had also stumbled upon new worlds to explore and analyze. Chi Chi tried to think of all the work that remained, all of the new and exciting compounds to discover, and all of the recipes she could swap with the natives. "We did what we set out to do, sort of." Chi Chi continued quietly, still trying to work things out in her head. "But what about getting home when we are finished?" She asked again. For some reason, the thought that maybe getting back wasn't possible was nagging at her.

"Its all quite simple," Marron answered as she stirred her drink and took a sip to test out her mixture. "Daddy said that it might be able to be done. He just hasn't figured out a way yet. He says that we folded or something," she added with a wave of her hand.

Chi Chi felt her stomach drop.

"Besides, what's the rush? What do you have to go back to?"

The dark haired Russian woman blinked before turning around once more to stare at Marron. That was mighty cold to say to anyone, although before Chi Chi could open her mouth to say so, she had to admit to herself that while not a pleasant thought, Marron was right. Her own family was gone and she didn't really have any friends, save for Bulma, and even Marron, in her own special way. She had always lived for her work, and out here, she could certainly continue on doing what she liked best. She closed her mouth quickly, and set her jaw in determination. She was finally free to do what she wanted out here, to work with no distractions, to work without the confines of borders, and on a space station that actually seemed to function with the minimal amount of tape holding it together.

Of course, it didn't mean she planned on giving up on Earth. She would just try to have fun while she was here, and at least stay optimistic without worrying.

"Pour me a drink then, Marron!" Chi Chi exclaimed with renewed vigor. "Then we can finally get settled into this place."

*****

"I have another batch of cookies baking now," Mrs. Briefs smiled as she carried a large tray of deliciously aromatic chocolate chip cookies. She set it gingerly on the small coffee table, moving aside a small gadget as she did so, wiping it off on her white, frilly apron before placing it on a set of small shelves.

"Thank you, dear," Doctor Briefs mumbled through his thick moustache as he tightened a microchip on a small headset.

"Its so nice to have the girls back with us!" She squealed with delight, clasping her hands together and twirling about.

Doctor Gero, who had stopped by to share in the goodies, gave a slight sigh and roll of his eyes. He loved the woman deeply for her cheerful attitude and most importantly, her culinary arts, but there were times when she seemed a little apt to play the drama queen.

"Oh, I hope the children can all get along," she continued on, stopping to stand behind Gero with her hands squeezing his shoulders. "It will be such a nice addition during the holidays!"

Dr. Gero regarded his best friend's wife from the corner of his eye before tugging gently on his long moustache. She of course was referring to his own two `children', of a sort. They had both started out as types of test tube babies, with a few slight technological modifications. Dr. Briefs had been against it at first but it hadn't been long before the scientific curiosity had won out over any type of ethical deliberations. He hadn't hurt the children, as their modifications had been made while they were still in the mix. What he now had on his hands were twins, cyborgs, and he figured since they were now both twenty-two years old, they were way past puberty.

Dr. Gero uncrossed his legs and placed his teacup on the coffee table. "Did she agree to start working on it?"

"Yes, yes," Dr. Briefs stated as he squinted, holding his mini screwdriver. "She'll be starting work on the new simulator as soon as she feels up to it." He paused, "Most likely tomorrow."

Dr. Gero smiled. He could just imagine the new training facility with a state of the art juice bar. #18 would be pleased, and he was sure Mrs. Briefs would love the selection of citrus blends.

He smiled and grabbed a cookie.

*****

"And just where are they going to put this thing?" The beautiful woman with chin length blonde hair asked curiously as she tucked a stray strand behind her ear. She was standing stiffly next to a young man in a white lab coat. Yamcha recognized him as the one who had treated both himself and Bulma when they had first arrived on the station.

"I don't know," the young man responded calmly, "do I look like a friggin' architect?"

Yamcha managed a small smile as he watched the emotion cross the blonde's face, and the lack of emotion cross the young man's.

"Where do you think they will put it?" The young man, #17, turned to stare at Yamcha, his cool blue gaze unyielding even at a distance. The blonde, #18, also turned to stare at the Earthling, but at least she had some other expression besides blank.

"Uh," Yamcha was a bit unsure of what to say. He had previously been thinking other thoughts, and ones that didn't involve space planning and public architecture.

"Let him be, #17."

"It was a simple question," #17 shrugged and turned around once again to stare out of the large observation windows accenting the third level lounge.

#18 didn't budge, but kept her own icy gaze on the tall, muscular Italian sitting at one of the small tables enjoying a hot beverage. Flicking her hair back once again, she walked a few paces and sat down opposite the dark haired human.

"Did it hurt much?" She questioned without malice as she held out her finger and traced the small scar under his right eye.

"No," Yamcha replied after a moment of silence. It had hurt him more mentally than physically. He had always been caught up in physical appearances, physical beauty. And although it was quite hard to guess from the way he acted as an adult, he had always been quite shy. It had taken a lot of time and effort to get over that shyness.

It had taken Bulma.

"There sure is a lot of traffic out there today. Must be conducting planet-side runs," #17 offered a commentary from the window.

"So, do you consider yourself a tough guy?" #18 smirked from across the table after he'd made his admission, drawing her finger away from the deep blemishes on his once perfect skin.

"No," Yamcha replied again after another moment of silence. He really didn't consider himself that tough. He had simply done what he had done to save Bulma. He'd do it again without a moments hesitation if it were ever to happen again.

"You look tough," #18 commented thoughtfully as she continued to stare at his face.

Yamcha would have smiled at her if her gaze wasn't so disconcerting.

"We should take him under our wing," #18 stated firmly as she turned to her twin brother. "I can tell he has spirit. He would make a great fighter."

Yamcha raised his eyebrows. Fighter?

#17 turned slowly and tilted his head before looking from Yamcha to his sister. "I think you might be on to something." He finally added after a few more minutes of deliberation. "Tell me Yamcha, have you ever studied any type of fighting arts?"

"You mean, like, don't hit girls?"

"No," #17 stated with a wicked smirk.

#18 snorted.

"The type of fighting arts where you kick the living snot out of your opponent." #17 stated without humor.

"Technique," #18 nudged her brother, "focus, mental enhancement. To know your body and your limitations."

Yamcha shook his head slowly with a smile. He could beat Krillin at thumb wrestling, although he doubted that's what the two had in mind. He grabbed his drink and took a sip, the hotness now gone and replaced by lukewarm.

"What exactly do you have in mind?"

*****

There you all have it. The third part. This may be looking to be another long one. I hope my eyes hold out. Thanks for those who have reviewed so far! I really appreciate the comments and feedback! If you have any requests, feel free to make them. Oh, and if anyone can shed some light on if I got the locations of Yamcha's scars correct, that would be stellar. Although its probably just me, his scars seem to change around a lot in the anime…