Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unspoken ❯ Escape ( Chapter 10 )

 

Unspoken

 

 

Chapter 10 - Escape

 

“You will not leave her side.” The sound of Vegeta's frustrated voice claims my attention.

 

“I should be by your side. War could break out tonight. You need every available ally,” Radditz argues passionately. A part of me is hopeful, though not in the least expectant, that Vegeta will take the brute with him. I am sick of constantly being around them while not being able to speak. Though the choice was mine, I have firmly placed the blame for it on Vegeta. He ruined everything by reminding me of who he is. Logically, I know I should be thanking him for the memory jog. Yet, for the last two days I have been unable to muster any other emotion than bitter resentment.

 

“But you are not available.” Vegeta's voice drops. I suspect he has sensed my interest in his conversation. I scold myself. I have gone to pains since his offensive behavior the other day to show no interest in him, or really anything for that matter. I refuse to let him win now.

 

Relaxing my body, I return to staring blankly out of the largest window in the room. It provides me with a nice view of all the Saiya-jins steadily flocking towards the arena where the debate will soon begin. Though I try to ignore it, after a few minutes, the sound of Vegeta's voice begins to penetrate my psyche once more. “Do not forget that I am by far your superior in strength. I do not need your protection. Now I am ordering you to take the woman to my underground security base. You are not to separate from her until I relieve you of your duty. Is that clear?”

 

Radditz then mumbles something I cannot quite make out, causing Vegeta to repeat his question. After the second request, Radditz grudgingly acquiesces. A few moments later, Vegeta is standing behind me. Though he is soundless in his movements, his unique male scent and powerful aura precede him. I am not surprised, nor do I react when he places his hand on the arch of my back.

 

“No matter what happens this evening,” he says as he steps nearer to me, his lips hovering close to my left ear, “we still have an arrangement.”

 

I am temped to refute him. Our arrangement has ended, and we both know it. I can do nothing to help him if war begins tonight; therefore, I have no hope of earning my freedom. I am back to where I started, prisoner to a man who controls my fate, who has no use for me other than a meaningless physical release. I have little doubt that soon he will finally cross the thin line that separated him from Brolli. He will take me whether or not I am willing. I was a fool to ever believe him any different.

 

His free hand slides under my chin. His fingers lightly press into my cheeks, pulling my face towards his. Though I am now nose to nose with him, I keep my eyes focused past him. I fix my gaze on the wall over his shoulder. I refuse to acknowledge him.

 

“If I told you I regretted what I had said, would it make any difference?” No. Regretting that he unintentionally confessed his true feelings is even more offensive than admitting to them. And even if I could forgive his scathing words, I could never forgive his decision to relinquish Brolli's body to his mother. “I see it would not.” At least he interprets my silence correctly.

 

“I wonder,” I feel his gloved thumb lightly stroke my chin, “even if I had done everything right by you, if it would have ever made any difference.” We'll never know. Likely no, but then again, I must begrudgingly admit there were moments with him when I was able to almost forget, to almost see him as more than just Saiya-jin scum.

 

“No, I don't think it would either,” he wisely concludes. Would we have lived happily ever after? Never. Could we have developed some kind of accord? Perhaps. Of course, none of that matters now. None of it makes any difference.

 

His thumb extends toward my lips. He traces the top, and then the bottom slowly. The hand resting on my lower back gently pulls me closer to him. I feel his body press against mine. I almost flinch at the contact. It burns to recall that I once felt a sense of safety within his arms.

 

“Answer this,” he demands. I have a hard time gazing dispassionately away from him when he is this close. The realization that he still affects me like this shames me. “If I gave you your freedom right now, if I let you go, what would you do? Where would you go? Have you even considered your life beyond this freedom you seek? You may be unencumbered by any other living being, but you would have nothing. No people, no planet, no wealth, no home, no possessions, no safety, no prospects, nothing. Has it never occurred to you that life in my protection would be far better than this precious freedom you so obsessively pursue?”

 

I finally look at him seriously. My eyes clash with his. For a moment, I wonder if he makes the suggestion merely to incite me, but as I search his eyes, I realize his questions are genuine. I suppose it is not entirely surprising. He could never understand how precious freedom is when he has never lost it.

 

“I'll let you answer for me.” I finally break my silence. He lowers his thumb to allow me to speak. “Let's say war breaks out tonight. Let's say your entire species and planet is obliterated, all except for you. Let's say your life is magnanimously spared by some alien woman. Let's say she takes you to her lavish home where you want for no material possession. The only catch is that you can never leave her. You can never choose to be with another woman. You can never have complete autonomy over your life. Oh, and let's not forget that in return for her generosity, she will expect you to repay her on your back, using the only body part of yours she has any interest in. Now you tell me, your highness. What would you do? Stay with this alien woman, or fight like hell to get away from her?”

 

His anger has dissipated. I watch it diminish gradually throughout my speech. Perhaps a part of him does finally understand. “If I let you go, would you ever come back?”

 

“To you or this hellhole of a planet?”

 

He barely hides his flinch at my description of his home world. “To me.” He clears his throat; his voice suddenly sounds deeper than normal. “As a free woman, would you ever choose me?” His eyes are demanding. I suppose he wants me to confess once and for all whether I disdain him or harbor affection for him. I cannot help but wonder if either response will make any difference in my future. I could lie and say that I am desperate for him, and after a short respite off planet, I would come running back to him. Or I could take one more opportunity to insult him, vowing to run for the remainder of my life just to stay as far away from him as possible. Then again, I could try the truth, and admit that if he did have the sense to let me go, I might depart with high enough regard for him that in time I could face him again.

 

He must see my indecision, because he tries to sway me. “Do you recall the first time our lips touched?” His eyes lower to focus on that which he mentioned. “You initiated it.”

 

“I did not,” I quickly defend. “I only kissed you so you would not see me unveiled.”

 

“It was not an emotionless sacrifice to protect your identity. You enjoyed it; you were even enthusiastic.”

 

I want to disagree, but he is right. It is true that I kissed him so he would not see my face, but I also had a hidden motive. I wanted to experience some kind—any kind of passion before I was sold to Nappa. I thought Vegeta was my only chance before my inevitable death to experience physical pleasure instead of pain… so I kissed him.

 

I kissed him.

 

That's what he wants.

 

All at once, I am certain that this entire conversation has been directed towards this. My acceptance is not enough for him, he wants me to be active, and even beyond that, initiating. The first time I kissed him it was…nice. Very nice. But now passion is not enough. I want more. Just as settling into a life of comfort isn't enough to sustain my pride, accepting physical pleasure from anyone I could find it with would never make me happy. And I want to be happy. It is not enough just to survive. I want to live.

 

“I would never come back to you.” My confession startles both of us. “If our paths crossed sometime in the future, I would treat you civilly, perhaps even cordially. But when I have my freedom, I won't let myself settle for anything. I have already lost too much of my life. I won't waste anymore of it on a planet I hate, with a people who despise me, being with a man I don't love. Though I may not be capable of feeling it now, someday I want love. I want to give it, and receive it. I could never have that with you, so there is no reason for me to ever return.”

 

The anger I had watched disappear from his face is now back. His hand grasps the back of my neck, none too gently and pulls my lips toward his. He kisses me suddenly, passionately—very passionately. The kind of knee shaking, heart pounding, head dizzying passion that a man expecting death would demand in his last moments in this world. I assume he means to show me that passion is not something to be passed up lightly, but he underestimates my conviction.

 

He ends the kiss within seconds, releasing me just as swiftly. I hear him make his way to the exit. The door slides open, and remains that way for several moments. He has not passed through it. I am certain of it, because even though I cannot see him, I can still feel his presence. “Bulma,” I hear his voice from across the room. I hate how hypnotically the sound of my name rolling off his lips echoes in my mind. “If you do one day experience this `love' that precludes me from being worthy of your interest, do send me a detailed transmission explaining it. I'm certain it will be quite entertaining to read.”

 

The words `fuck you' enter my mind, but I do not shout them as he exits. I realize I have bruised his ego, that knowledge is enough gratification to restrain my tongue.

 

“You handled that well.” The superior sound of Radditz's voice mocks me from across the room. I quickly realize he had been standing there the entire time.

 

“Here to escort me to my new underground prison?” I quip, though Radditz does not appear amused.

 

“Actually, I thought we should speak first.” He slowly approaches me. When he stops directly in front of me, I observe his stoic stance. His arms are crossed over his chest, and a deep scowl lines his lips. Oddly, I am reminded of Vegeta. “Your anger is misplaced.”

 

He had to be joking. “My anger is misplaced?” I carefully hiss each word, hoping when said slowly he will recognize how stupid his statement is. When he appears unaware of my meaning, I realize I must be painfully clear. “He let Brolli have a proper burial. That man raped me for five years and you think I have no right to be furious that Vegeta let the bastard's mother bury him among the honored? You think I have no right to be outraged that he called me horrid things because I dared to condemn his behavior?”

 

“You compared him to his father.”

 

My eyes narrow in frustration. I walk over to the bed to take a seat upon it. “It was an accurate comparison. He let that bitch take her son's body just because she flaunted herself at him.”

 

“That's not why he did it,” Radditz growls in disagreement. “Jicama was like an aunt to Vegeta. She was a close ally to his mother. Vegeta did it out of respect for her.”

 

“And you expect me to believe Vegeta would do something so heinous merely out of respect for his mother? This type of behavior from a man who has no allegiance to anyone?”

 

“That's not true, and you know it,” Radditz says, sounding somewhat disappointed in me. There is a certain degree of resignation in his demeanor as he takes a seat next to me on the bed. “Vegeta will kill me for telling you this.” After he sees I am unmoved by his dilemma, he continues anyway. “What do you know of Vegeta's mother?”

 

The mild degree of interest I have in the topic convinces me to play along for the moment. “Only that she was tested to have the largest female ki on the planet. That required her to become the king's mate and provide him with a male heir. Vegeta was born, and then about thirteen years later, she was killed by Vegeta's father and his crew.”

 

Radditz looks down, raw pain on his face. I find the display of emotion peculiar. “What you omitted, and what most of society is unaware of, is that Vegeta's mother should never have been part of the selection to bear the next heir. She was already bonded.”

 

I blink, the only sign of my surprise. I know enough about Saiya-jin politics that what he just claimed is quite impossible. “Your mating laws state that only unbonded women may be part of the selection. Saiya-jins making formal, monogamous bonds are so rare that they are to be respected.” From what I know, Saiya-jin bonded mates were like ningen married couples. If only about one in a million ningens ever married, and divorces and annulments never existed. A bonded mate was exclusive and joined until death.

 

“Vegeta's father did not care. Nori, Vegeta's mother, had an incredibly strong ki. Above that, she was beautiful, almost abnormally so by Saiya-jin standards. Some even questioned whether her blood was completely Saiya-jin, but her strength served as enough assurance. No half-breed could have been as powerful as she was.”

 

“But if she was already bonded, then all she had to do was make it public knowledge. King Vegeta would not have been able to touch her.”

 

“Vegeta's father blackmailed her. He told her if she did not accept his selection, he would kill her mate and the son they had together. She had no choice. She gave up her family, and in return received an abusive mate. Nori had thought that once Vegeta was born, his father would leave her be, but he didn't. He would humiliate her publicly and privately. She believed some twisted part of him actually thought himself in love with her.” Radditz says the words with distaste. He clearly did not believe such was the case.

 

“What it sounds like is that he was jealous. He tried to humiliate her just as he was humiliated by her rejection. I have heard that pathetic story before.” I cannot help but think of Brolli. It seems Saiya-jin men are not only possessive of their alien slaves. “So Vegeta and his mother sympathized with one another over their mutual hatred of the former king?”

 

“Not quite,” Radditz clarified. “Nori did love Vegeta by all accounts I have heard, but he never believed it. He saw himself as a constant reminder of her fate, as the source of all her misery, as well as her death. Even though Vegeta was not on the planet when Nori was killed, he felt responsible. It has been the driving force behind killing his father and his allies ever since.”

 

“So you are saying Vegeta let Brolli's mother bury that sick son of a bitch because he feels responsible for his mother's death? And in his mind, helping a friend of his mother was in some way honoring Nori?” I look away, refusing to be moved by the tale. “That's a tragic story, Radditz, but it is no excuse for his actions.”

 

“I am not offering an excuse, I am offering an explanation, a reasoning—that's not the same as justification.”

 

“Understanding Vegeta does not change who he is. And it does not change how I feel about him. We had a mutually beneficial arrangement—that was all there ever was between us.” I am careful to make the claim in past tense; I want to be clear with Radditz that whatever bargain Vegeta and I had before no longer exists.

 

“There can be more.”

 

I clench my fists, his refusal to listen angering me. “Why are you so damn concerned with Vegeta's personal life? You are just his advisor.”

 

“No, I am more than that.” His gaze captures mine and I find myself unable to look away. His expression is meaningful. For a few moments, my mind is blank; I cannot figure out what he is trying to convey. But as I look fearlessly into his eyes, I am once again reminded of Vegeta. Many things about Radditz actually remind me of Vegeta: his appearance, gestures, voice, character, and idiosyncrasies all at one point or another remind me of Vegeta. But it never occurred to me that those things had any significance before this moment.

 

“No,” I release a staggered breath before sharing my shocking conclusion. “You're the child Nori had with her true mate. You're Vegeta's brother.”

 

“Half brother.” He slices the words. “I didn't know the truth until recently. My father had told me my mother died in battle before I returned from my inaugural purging mission. For years I was completely oblivious to the constant danger upon my life, but Nori was not. In anticipation of her inevitable death, she had recorded a last testament to Vegeta. In it she confessed the details of her relationship with my father, as well as admitting my existence. Her final wish was that Vegeta protect me from his father; so he came to find me after her death. He gave me a position as a palace guard. I thought it was just some kind of bizarre luck. The position was not much, but it was a large step up from a common second-class warrior.”

 

“When did he finally tell you the truth?” I ask quietly, still trying to sort through this array of new information.

 

“A few months ago. There was always concern for my safety, so until Vegeta was confident that his father was no longer a threat to me, he remained silent. When he finally told me the truth, I refused to believe it. It took my father's reluctant admission before I could accept the truth.” He pushes himself to his feet, and slowly walks away from me. When he stops, he gazes out a far window, his arms crossed over his chest, his attitude listless. “I wanted to blame Vegeta at first. I wanted to hate him for taking my mother from me. But I came to realize one cannot blame circumstances on a child—especially one yet to be born.” There is a long pause after Radditz finishes the uncomfortable statement. The last few words he voiced, in particular, seem to hold a secret meaning to him. It takes all of my willpower not to question it, but at the moment, I find myself focused on Vegeta's motives.

 

“But Vegeta does—he blames himself.”

 

Radditz twist his head over his shoulder to look at me. A swift nod is his quiet response. “His father resented him. He thought Vegeta was raised weakly, emotionally at least, like Nori. But Nori was not weak. She was honorable. She suffered her circumstances not only for my benefit, as Vegeta likes to believe, but for his as well. She wanted to fix our society. Being mother to the next king was her chance to reshape history.”

 

“She used him.” I conclude, finding contradiction in Raddtiz's claims about his mother.

 

“She tried to help him best his genes,” Radditz softens what still sounds to me like a simplistic scheme of manipulation. Punish a father's sins by turning his son against him. “She wanted him to be a better man than his father. And she succeeded, but at a cost. Vegeta suffered for being different. He was humiliated for it. I know you feel you have suffered, but never make the mistake of believing Vegeta has not. In some ways I think emotionally he is more barren than you. You claim to have memories of times when people cared for you, friends, family. Vegeta has none. Whatever pleasant memories he had with Nori he wrote off as a lie. I am the closest thing to a friend or family member he has left, and you see how distantly he acts with me.”

 

Suddenly Radditz pauses, and then returns to my side. Kneeling in front of me, he grasps my arms and gently twists me to face him. “The way he acts with you, he has never acted with anyone one else, Saiya-jin or alien. There is something about you that makes him feel. Are you really so selfish that you will not indulge him? And no,” he seems to read my mind, “I am not telling you to fuck him. If Vegeta just needed something physical, there are an endless number of women he could use. It is companionship he needs, a mate.” I lower my head, my chest pounding. His words affect me when they should not. I don't care about Vegeta. I don't care about whatever is wrong with him. I am the one who deserves to be cared for. Why should healing someone else be my responsibility when I am broken? “And if you care nothing for what he needs, consider it for yourself. The only person who needs companionship more than him is you. You two should be helping each other instead of constantly trying to offend one another.”

 

I shake my head, unconvinced by his simple fix to a horrible situation. “Radditz, you cannot expec—” I am unable to complete my thought as the ground suddenly shakes beneath us. “What the hell?” The shaking becomes more violent. Radditz tries to steady me.

 

Screams.

 

An explosion.

 

More screams.

 

“Shit,” I hear Radditz curse, a second before his arms wraps around my waist. I feel my legs lift off of the ground. Before I can understand what is happening, we are in the air. We make it outside of Vegeta's chambers and down the hall only seconds before I see a fireball chasing us.

 

The blast suddenly catches up with us, and I find myself being thrown from my guard's arms. I land roughly down an adjacent hall to where the blast filtered through. I am slow to get to my feet before I return to the hall Radditz had been carrying me in. As I turn the corner, I see his form flat on the ground. I come to his side. I touch two fingers to his neck where I expect his pulse to be. I feel it, but it's weak. “Radditz.” I shake him, attempting to rouse him.

 

In the distance, I see four figures, all male, three working together to defeat the fourth. “Radditz, wake up!” I beg him. I am rewarded with a slight blink of his eyes. “Come on, we have to get out of here.” He tries to push himself up, but he fails. I curse. There are now only three men left fighting, and they are all moving in our direction. If we don't move, we will be caught in the crossfire.

 

“The bunker,” Radditz coughs. “Down the hall, one left... T—take the lift to… to the bottom level. Two rights… a secure door… code 32…E…4K. Go.” His breathing becomes more labored. I sense he is about to lose consciousness.

 

“What about you?” I know I am in a state of shock. If I were not, I would have stopped to wonder why his safety concerned me.

 

“Go!” He screams with finality, and I do. Turning around, I take off in the direction he ordered. However, I am unable to make the left he directed. Another set of soldiers are skirmishing, so I have to go in the opposite direction. I am soon detoured again when faced with a new explosion that almost takes one of my arms with it. But I refuse to stop, I keep running.

 

I can hear battles going on all around me. Every so often ki blasts continue to come through walls, warring soldiers battle before me, parts of the castle begin to collapse, but I do not stop. My adrenaline is pumping, and I manage to continue running until I reach a location that stops me dead in my tracks.

 

“It can't be,” I whisper as I lay eyes on the docking bay. Three circular pods sit before me, without a single solider to guard them. The must have left to join the fight.

 

The dreamlike sight makes my eyes water.

 

Escape.

 

With no extra thought, I rush to the one in the middle. It takes me a few moments to figure out how it opens, but once I see the front hatch rise, I waste no time jumping inside. I fiddle with the controls for another few minutes before I manage to determine generally how the machine works. I decide I can learn the details as I travel. Escape is essential right now. I can hear the battle coming closer toward me.

 

I punch in coordinates for the farthest planet the ship's scanners can reach, and then I hit the launch button. The jolt from the ship's takeoff nearly knocks me unconscious, but I refuse to close my eyes as I leave the atmosphere. Looking out of the circular window in front of me, I soon see the fiery red planet in my field of vision. The tears that had been gathering for five long years finally fall from my eyes.

 

For more than half a decade, I have dreamed of this moment, though I never truly believed I would live to see it. Now that it is happening, so quickly, so suddenly, it's all too surreal. I fear I may wake from this blissful moment only to find it was all a dream—from meeting Vegeta, to escaping Brolli, to his death.

 

Everything.

 

But it's not a dream. I believe it with as much conviction as when I promised Vegeta I would know freedom—a freedom where I settled for nothing and learn once again to truly live life. Some twist of fate has blessed me with this liberation, and I will not take it for granted.

 

Dropping my sobbing head against the seat cushion behind me, I close my eyes and finally release my stunted emotions.

 

I am free.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Will he live?” I ask the medic as I watch Radditz floating in one of the few regeneration tanks which survived the battle that erupted during the debate.

 

I could not say I was surprised that a fight broke out, but the speed at which the battle commenced was planned to a degree I had not imagined. Paragus was the elected speaker for the elites. When I opened the floor for discussion, he had wasted no time being the first to address the crowd. However, he had no interest in any sort of parlay of opinions. He had only a scripted decree.

 

“I think now is an opportune time to remind all of us that for as long as our powerful species has existed, a class system has been in place.” I can hear the man's voice as clearly as if he were in this room with me. “This system has nothing to do with politics, or popularity, or even material assets. It is based on strength. That is the foundation of our entire species' existence. We battle. The strongest survive, and to the strongest go the spoils. As such, the spoils in this instance refer to planetary rule. Our people are strong because we elites have made it so. Therefore, we are entitled to be the only ones to make laws around here. And anyone who doesn't like it should spend his time training if he wants his option heard. Supremacy will not be achieved through speech, only through the strength of our fists. And that, my fellow Saiya-jins, is why myself, with the support of the entire elite class have no interest is discussing the buying and selling of alien women or how our own women are treated. Because the truth is, we do not give a shit what you all think. We are the ruling power, and if you do not like it, then you are all more than welcome to try and do something about it.”

 

“Do not think that we won't.” I recall Bardock's familiar voice interrupting the man. “And do not think for a moment that your superior ki will be enough to defeat our numbers. You are not the only ones ready for war. It that is what you want, then that is exactly what you will get.”

 

There was screaming and cursing that followed. I cannot say for certain which side fired first, but I quickly found myself being attacked by several elites. They must have planned on taking me out first. It would have been a wise strategy had I not been prepared for them, not to mention I was already in a volatile enough state of mind that the exhilaration of combat was just the remedy I needed.

 

After several hours of beating opposing sides until exhaustion, the elites retreated to a western stronghold to recuperate for the next battle that was certainly to come, while the third, weaker second class and women regrouped in what was left of my castle. It was shortly after that that I arrived in my private bunker to find neither Bulma nor Radditz awaiting me.

 

“I believe he will live, your highness,” the elderly woman assures me before she disappears to help another wounded soldier. I drop one hand against the tank, sighing as I try to come to grips with what Radditz's state of health means.

 

There was no sign of Bulma when Radditz had been found. My private chambers had been completely destroyed. I assume she is dead. My teeth clench, my fists tighten. I am furious, I feel it in my core, but I do not understand why. Thousands of Saiya-jins were killed today. Why should the life of one slave mean so much to me?

 

It does not, I tell myself. She was weak, a distraction to me. I will be able to handle this war better without her. Except, none of those rationales appease my mind. I am still furious that I will never see her, smell her, or feel her again. I will never know her as intimately as she has haunted my dreams.

 

I slam my hand against Radditz's tank, and turn away from him. With disappointment, I realize I am mourning her. A goddamn slave! What the hell is wrong with me?

 

“Highness?” One of my palace guards disturbs me as he walks toward me with a small security monitor in his hand. “I am sorry to interrupt you, but I thought you should see this.” I whip the device away from him and watch the recording play before me. If I was angry before, there is no measure of my fury at this moment. “When I was assessing the castle's damage as you asked, I noticed a pod was unaccounted for. When I played back the security tapes, I realized one had been stolen. I thought she looked like your—”

 

“Who else knows about this?” I raise my eyes slowly from the screen to the man before me.

 

“I told no one before coming to you, sire.”

 

“Good,” was my brief response before lifting my hand and blasting the man through his chest. The second he falls to the ground, I crush the pad in my hand, and then burn it with my ki.

 

Escape.

 

She escaped from me.

 

“Once I win this war, woman,” I grind my teeth together as I make the quiet vow to myself. “I am going to hunt you down, and kill you for running from me.” I pause, a slow smirk forming on my lips. “And after I do that, I am going to bind you to me for the rest of our miserable loveless lives.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The End