Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Starting Over ❯ Chapter 2: Stowaway ( Chapter 2 )

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

Starting Over

 

Chapter 2: Stowaway

 

Vegeta quickly typed into the keyboard, reviewing the images and battle stats from the strongholds on Earth’s continents. The humans had been conquered quickly—not all together unexpected given their inferior technology and inherently miniscule chi. Like so many other civilizations, the planet’s assets were far more valuable than anything the race had to offer. A purge was the only logical solution. Maybe it was age or restlessness, but he found he was glad when purges could be completed quickly. 

 

As if on cue, there was a sudden flash of a crimson sky and armored warriors, their battle screams curdling, haunting. A planet disintegrated to little more than boulders. The stones’ silent orbit around a brilliant orange star now the only remaining grave marker of his own civilization. 

 

Vegeta shook his head as if the physical action could somehow rid him of the unwanted memories. It was a futile reflex like an animal trying to swat away parasitic insects. Nostalgia was not permissible in the Cold Empire.

 

Yes, it was better this way.

 

An alarm began to signal on the screen and the Saiyan absently opened the alert message. It seemed another rocket had been launched from the planet. Curious. The island of Japan had made several successful launches since the arrival of Freeza’s armada. 

 

He zoomed in on the launch site.

 

Capsule Corp. Fascinating. There was a large factory and laboratory on site with schematics that rivaled those of even the most advanced planets. It was almost too tidy, but perhaps this “Capsule Corp” was the source of the encapsulation devices Freeza sought. Signs of life in the area were scarce which meant it was unlikely he would find the woman.

 

Still, better to check it out.

 

~~~~~<(((((|||)))))>~~~~~

 

 

On arrival to the second shuttle bay, Bulma accessed the main computer, verifying the coordinates of her parents’ destination. She stared at the blinking dot on the map screen as it moved along its trajectory towards safety. They decided in advance to initially land in different locations. They would rendezvous later when the danger had abated. 

 

They’re still alive. You’re alive. You can do this, Bulma girl.

 

It wasn’t like her to doubt herself, but she couldn’t remember being separated from her family or the Z Senshi since she was a small child. She felt shellshocked, hollow. All of her friends were…

 

Those bastards, she thought and slammed her fist into the wall. 

 

Goku, Yamcha, Krillin, Piccolo… they had all been murdered by another smaller Saiyan not long after Radditz’ arrival. The newscasters never mentioned the other Saiyan’s name. His tactics were more calculating and efficient than the other warriors. Shrewder. At least her friends hadn’t suffered. 

 

At least they hadn’t suffered? They were dead!

 

Even her thoughts horrified her.

 

Similar to her parents’ vessel, her ship was no more than forty feet in length and skimped on the frills. There was a main cabin with a rudimentary kitchen, observation deck, and separate sleeping quarters with a small shower and commode. Cozy, but effective.

 

“Computer, set a course for Home II. Ensure maximum stealth settings,” Bulma said as she secured herself into her flight harness.

 

“Course calculated. Maximum stealth initiated. Launching in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1….” 

 

And the ship was off. Bulma closed her eyes and released her breath as her body was struck with the immense G forces of rapid acceleration. Toying with gravity was one of her pet projects, but she had never quite perfected the dampening of a sudden acceleration to close to light speed. 

 

Within the hour, the ship was nearing Jupiter and Bulma allowed herself to settle. It was time for the final jump which would land her on a vetted planet half a galaxy away. Let Freeza try to find her then. The ship began to decelerate.

 

“Jump site visualized. Worm hole activated.” 

 

And that’s when she heard it. Was that… clapping? 

 

“Computer, stand by on jump,” Bulma stated in a perplexed voice.

 

“Oh please, don’t stop your escape on my behalf,” came a deeply unsettling voice. As the figure emerged into the artificial light, Bulma watched its reflection grow clearer in the mirror-like glass of the cockpit’s largest window. The man’s gloved hands mockingly clapped in celebration of her almost escape and Bulma clenched her teeth. 

 

Steadying herself, she reached carefully into her jumpsuit, fingers wrapping around the cool metal of her favorite dagger. It had been a gift from Yamcha. A joke they once shared about her “sharp” wit being as effective as any weapon. She, on the other hand, took the gift literally and insisted on being trained in how to use it. It was one of the few mementos she’d brought with her on her journey.

 

Bulma turned to face the Saiyan stowaway, tearing herself free from the seat’s harness.

 

“You! You killed them!” She whispered.

 

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that,” the Saiyan replied with a flat smirk, “but I imagine, yes, I did.” His eyes were old, empty, humorless despite the clapping. And he was larger than she imagined, his figure no longer eclipsed by the goliath stature of his peers. As he walked towards her, he moved strangely, almost reptilian. He wasn’t natural and everything about him set Bulma on edge.

 

“I have to say. I am immensely impressed,” he gestured to the ship. “Computer, prepare to jump,” he said with a mocking smile, pacing dangerously close to the Earth scientist.

 

“Preparing to jump.” 

 

Bulma’s eyes widened. The encryption to gain computer access was unbreakable. She designed it herself. 

 

Before she could even exhale, the Saiyan was behind her, his gloved hand grasping her wrists almost caressingly. A slight squeeze, and she was forced to release her weapon, the clanging steel awkward and jarring as it struck the bare metal floor.

 

“Who are you?” she asked, with an exasperated and nearly fearful whisper.

 

“Your worst nightmare,” he said menacingly. “Jump!”