I do not own Dragon Ball Z.

A blinding light flashed as screams erupted through the lab. Chunks of rubble tumbled around Bulma as smoke burned her lungs. She looked around in a panic to see how many of her comrades had fallen from the blast. Her mind raced as she tried to understand what, exactly, had exploded. No experiments were currently running. The gaping hole in the wall didn't make any sense. She shook her head as her ears rang from the intense noise.

Figures appeared through the smoke and were quickly followed by others. Odd creatures in battle armor overtook the room. They were grabbing the bodies of those strewn about. Some were dead, others withering in pain from injuries. They were being carried out of the room through the makeshift entranceway made by the odd life-forms. Bulma had been knocked back to the other side of the room by the force of the blast. They were quickly approaching her area.

Bulma crawled under the desk that was next to her to try and hide as she gathered her thoughts. The ringing in her ears intensified, causing her vision to blur. She looked at the person who lay nearest to her. He lay eerily still with no indication of life. Bulma blinked a few times as her brain sluggishly tried to process who lay lifelessly on the floor. A large piece of rebar protruded from the figure's chest as a liquid pool of scarlet gathered underneath.

"Yamcha!" she cried out. A rustling noise near her sent a wave of dread to her core. The hands she pressed against her mouth to stifle the hysterics she felt rising were too little too late. In her moment of shock Bulma realized she just made a grave mistake by loudly making her location known. The rustling quickly drew closer. Within seconds she felt a hand grab her hair as she was painfully yanked from her hiding spot.

"Well what do we have here?" the creature drawled as he dragged her into a standing position. "Ah, yes. This one will do nicely."

Bulma's eyes swept over Yamcha's body as she tried to avoid her captor's face. She silently willed Yamcha to get up. She was praying to the gods that the metal sticking out of his chest was a hallucination from shock. She kicked out and screamed at her attacker who held her tightly by the hair. She felt another pair of hands grab onto her arms in an attempt to still her efforts to get away. Her vision blurred further as her lab started to slip away from sight. She screamed at the top of her lungs as she felt herself being lifted and shaken.

"Bulma!" yelled out a voice. "Bulma! Stop!"

Amisty shook Bulma a second time as she tried to rouse Bulma from another nightmare.

Her eyes fluttered open. Amisty brushed the sweat-drenched hair away from Bulma's face. She gave Bulma a reassuring smile as the remnants of her nightmare faded away. Unfocused eyes searched the air as she regained a sense of her surroundings. A smile of recognition crossed her face.

"Thanks for waking me up." Bulma said. Her breathing was starting to slow as her mind cleared. Just a dream she thought to herself as she sat up.

"You know, if you keep thrashing around and screaming at night then I may have to take matters into my own hands just so I can get some sleep!" Amisty teased with a wink. "Calm your mind and get some sleep. We're being prepared for tomorrow's transport. You know what happens to the girls that are rejected."

She stared at her friend for a long moment before she replied. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Sorry I woke you up. I didn't mean to."

Amisty patted her friend's shoulder as she gave her a sympathetic look. "Get some rest, friend. We have a big day tomorrow." She rose from the bed and settled herself under her own sheets.

Bulma laid down and stared at the ceiling. Although the auction was a week ago, the arrangements for the slaves to be delivered to their new masters were finishing up tomorrow. She needed sleep but her mind would not let her rest.

She couldn't shake the ghost of her nightmare from reliving the moments before her capture by the squadron that broke into her labs. Yamcha's death was heavy on her mind. She never had the chance to say goodbye… to grieve the loss of her best friend and lover. She shivered in the darkness as she remembered the invasion of Earth.

There were reports on the news that hostile forces were entering Earth's atmosphere. It was urged that all citizens take cover and to protect themselves. She was in her lab trying to hack the invader's systems. It wasn't the first time Earth was visited by guests from another world but it was the first time someone had entered Earth's atmosphere undetected.

Bulma couldn't get a read on the invader's signal to get control of their ships' communication feeds to stall their descent. She remembered yelling at the employees and researchers in the lab to run home to be with their families. She never knew her efforts to gain access to the aliens' electronics put a giant bulls-eye on her lab until after her capture. The following explosion and panic that ensued shortly after her attempts were in response to her meddling. The invaders detected her efforts into their system and identified it as a direct threat to their operations. They promptly responded. Capsule Corporation was the first location on Earth to be attacked.

Bulma sat up again as she recalled that the only reason Yamcha was dead was because of her. Moments before she left her house to go to the lab, Yamcha begged her to go into the underground shelter with him. He wanted to keep her safe until the invasion was over and they could form a plan of action together. Bulma wouldn't hear any of it and ran to the lab despite his pleas. He followed her there to try and protect her. The explosion sent concrete and shrapnel in all directions. Yamcha didn't even realize he was hit as his body slammed against the floor. He was killed instantly from the metal rebar that ripped into his chest. All because of her.

Bulma glanced out of the tiny window across from her bed. She hated herself for not listening to Yamcha. She knew she was responsible for his death. For all of their deaths. It was worse knowing that those who were taken alive would never be free because of her.

Bulma found out from Master Hearken during one of her training sessions that the men captured were killed. The women taken and deemed fit for auction were in slave training similar to hers. Those that could not conform to the training were given to Master Hearken's workers to do with them what they chose. Bulma knew that they were raped and tortured until they lost the will to live. Their lives did not end peacefully…or quickly.

She closed her eyes as she forced the nausea to pass. Her final moments on Earth replayed frequently in her nightmares. The despair, shock and loss she felt would not allow her to relax into sleep. If it wasn't for Amisty, Bulma would have gone insane by now.

Master Hearken took it upon himself to be personally in charge of Bulma's training. The first time she met Master Hearken was one of the most horrendous experiences of her life. Bulma didn't know who this Hearken person was at first. She was brought to his quarters shortly after arriving on the ship. He had introduced himself as 'Master Hearken' to her and told her to kneel before him. Her mind drifted as she recalled their first encounter...

"Kneel? In front of you?" Bulma stared at the orange haired alien standing across from her in utter disbelief. "Who the hell do you think you are telling me to get on the ground like an animal! Didn't you mother ever teach you anything about how to treat a lady?"

Master Hearken quietly gazed at his new guest with calm composure. He sized up this slim yet curvy ball of bold courage that stood before him. He knew that a fiery spirit such as hers would fetch a quite a large sum from one of his clients. Hearken was almost considering keeping this blue eyed, blue haired beauty for his own personal harem. She would be fun to break. To watch as her spirited fire turned to ash by his hand.

Lord Frieza sent the request for Hearken to obtain exotic women for the use of his soldiers. Hearken knew that the woman staring defiantly at him was exactly what Frieza had in mind. She would be worth a small fortune to those looking for a challenge. Hearken enjoyed collecting women, but resources were starting to get tight again. His organization needed the payout.

Hearken approached the young woman who was staring venomously at him from across the room. "Are you even listening to me or is that yellow skin showing what kind of a coward you really are? Too scared to answer my questions?" she spat.

With arms folded behind his back, he stepped right in front of her. "My dear, I will only ask you once more. It will be in your best interest to kneel before me."

"You can take your request and shove it up your big yellow ass!" She retorted to the figure towering over her. She barely closed her mouth when she felt a searing pain across her right cheek. Her head snapped to the side as she collapsed onto the floor.

Bulma's hands were splayed out on the ground before her to stop her head from hitting the carpet. She involuntarily covered the throbbing pain on her face as she rocked back on her legs into a kneeling position. She looked up at Hearken with shock and confusion. She didn't realize she had assumed the position he had requested from her.

Hearken looked down at the woman with a hard stare. "I would advise you to listen when you are requested to perform an action. Things will go much smoother for you. You are to assume a kneeling position whenever you are in the presence of a handler or your master."

Bulma's eyes flashed in anger as it dawned on her that she was kneeling on the floor. With a snort of defiance, she began to rise. Within an instant she was forcefully knocked back onto the ground.

"Believe me when I say my patience will far outlast that pretty skin protecting your face." Hearken stated flatly. "Again, you are to stay in a kneeling position until otherwise directed. You are to refer to all handlers as 'sir'. My name to you is Master Hearken and I expect to be addressed as such. Do you understand?"

Bulma stared up at Him. She no longer held her face in her hands. An ugly bluish purple bruise was beginning to spread across her right cheek where she was slapped twice. Some would think such a mark to be appalling. Instead, Hearken found the bruising to be an appealing mark of his craftsmanship and self-control. He could have easily broken her neck with one carefully placed blow.

Hearken began to raise his hand threateningly from Bulma's lack of response to his question. He knew that the only way to wear her down was to be ruthlessly consistent. Her attractiveness, defiance and now the marking on her face laid by his hand was an arousing sight. The fearful stare he received from his raised hand was almost intoxicating. Yes, she would most definitely fetch a large sum.

"Do you understand?" Hearken repeated with an edge of threat in his voice.

Bulma bowed her head in shame as she was being forced to submit to his will. As much turmoil it caused her to do as he demanded, her self-preservation kicked in as she answered him.

"Yes."

Bulma felt silence surround her. She chanced a look upwards to see why Master Hearken did not respond. It took a moment for her to realize what he was waiting for. Through gritted teeth, she tried again. "Yes, Master Hearken sir."

She watched him slowly lower his arm to clasp his other hand behind his back. She let out a small sigh of relief as he walked towards the door. She was almost sure she was going to be struck again for not holding back the sarcasm laced in her voice while addressing him properly. Either he didn't notice, which was impossible with how she said it, or he had chosen to ignore it. A soft, almost inaudible, click at the door caught her attention. All of the blood rushed from her face as she recognized the familiar sound. Master Hearken had locked them in the room. Her chest tightened as her breathing became strained with uncertainty.

Hearken turned and began to circle the kneeling woman like a falcon about to dive for its prey. Bulma was visibly tense as uneasiness radiated from her. He didn't have to lock the door to ensure their privacy. He knew full well that no soul would dare enter his quarters unwelcome and uninvited. He also knew that despite Bulma's obvious tenacity, she would be unable to escape him regardless of her best efforts. Hearken enjoyed the heart-racing reaction it gave to those in her position. Arousal coursed through him as the vixen knelt before him.

"Now, my dear," Hearken's voice filled with danger and lust. "Let's see where, exactly, you will fit in our slave auctions, shall we? Are you one that can take the pain with strength and dignity or will it be only a matter of minutes before you're begging for me to stop? I'm curious as to how loud a lovely creature from Earth, such as yourself, can scream. I'm sure you will not disappoint my expectations…"

Fear and disparity ripped through her as she felt Master Hearken draw closer. All she could do was pray to pass out from the agony that he had promised…

A quiet snore jarred Bulma from her thoughts. She blinked a few times as the wisps of memory from her torture cleared. She didn't realize that she was painfully squeezing her hands closed. Opening them up slowly, she winced at the discomfort from where her nails dug into her flesh from clasping them so hard. She looked over towards her friend.

She smiled sweetly in the direction of her friend's peaceful snoring. It was Amisty who peeled Bulma off of the floor after that first evening.

Amisty was sent into Master Hearken's room shortly after he was done experimenting on Bulma. He didn't stay to make sure that she was alright. Instead he ordered her off to another slave to take care of her. She didn't remember Amisty taking her into the hospital wing of the ship. By the time she was retrieved, Bulma had long passed out from the pain Master Hearken had inflicted. Bulma knew she remained awake for several hours before the sweet waves of nothingness finally crashed over her. Later she was told by Amisty that she slept for close to sixteen hours before she started to show signs of consciousness.

Amisty was there from the moment Bulma woke to tend to her wounds until long after she was fully healed. Weeks blended together into months. Amisty was always there for her to help heal, guide and laugh with her when there was need. Bulma lost track of how long she had been held captive. She did know, however, that she would have lost the will to live a while ago if it wasn't for Amisty's friendship.

Her mind finally exhausted, she decided to try and settle down for another attempt at sleep. Amisty was right. They had a full morning of preparations before they were to be delivered to their new masters. She wanted to make a good impression for herself tomorrow. It was either that or be a permanent slave to Master Hearken, who saw a rejected slave as a personal attack to his ego. She decided a new surrounding would be the lesser of the two evils.

As the lids of her eyes drew heavy, she made a silent plea to the gods to allow her the strength to get through tomorrow. She barely finished her thought before drifting to sleep.