ROGUE PLANET


by the Not-So-Super Saiyan

and

Hanko the Doebringer


CHAPTER ONE: THE RENEGADE

Hangman is comin' down from the gallows and I don't have very long.


Stardate 47634.44

July 1st 2020

8:00 am

Bulma was nervous. She left the Captain's office and made her way down the narrow hallway with as much authority as she could muster. She was in a position of power, but she sure didn't feel like it. A special assignment. She couldn't exactly refuse. The Captain and her advisors outranked Bulma on the ship, but she was the Chief Science Officer and the primary consultant for their mission. This meant that any decision made on the ship with more importance than general maintenance had to go through her. All of this coupled with the rising tensions between the military officers of the Earth's Special Forces and the Capsule Corporation affiliates, her constant anxiety was palpable.

As Bulma walked down the winding corridors she watched the crew move about. She was reminded of just how fragile their alliance was. For the most part everyone on the ship did their best to work together and stay out of trouble. But there could always be that one officer , one glance, or one comment that would send the fragile alliance hurtling out the airlock, taking their mission's chance of success with it.

They had travelled well out of the way of Galactic Alliance territory to follow her maps and they were still several days away from their first stop. If she was being honest, she wasn't even sure if she was reading the maps correctly. Anticipation fluttered around her chest everytime she thought about it. This could be the breakthrough in her research she had been searching for in the empty stars. Planets. Seven planets, spread far throughout this galaxy and possibly the next. More than that though, there was something magical about them.

Chewing on her lip vigorously she stood outside the door to the brig but she found herself unable to go inside and unable to turn tail and run, as if held there by some invisible force. Breathing in deep she pressed her hand to the door pad and felt the gentle whoosh of crisp air as it opened.

Easy assignment. The intruder was already detained. She just needed to talk to him. He had said nothing since his capture. All the captain wanted was for Bulma to interrogate the prisoner and find out how he had broken into the ship Bulma had so carefully designed. She didn't have to torture him, didn't even have to come within five feet of him. Safe and sound with a high voltage barrier between the two of them.

Easy enough, right?

She couldn't help but think of the tales she had heard of him and his companion and the havoc and utter chaos they had caused. Accounts varied from person to person but from what she had gathered in the chaos of their boarding of the ship, his companion had been killed. Per quarantine procedures set up by the Capsule's chief medical officer, her body would be disposed of. The risks were simply too high. Meanwhile he had been detained for further questioning.

Just breathe and act like you know what you're doing.

Okay?

Okay.

Bulma strode confidently into the circular bay of holding cells. Had the captain not asked her to come down as a "personal favor" she would have avoided the situation entirely. Who was she to get involved in military business? She was just a scientist, after all. It was really none of her business anyway as long as they weren't derailed from their mission.

She looked around taking in the painfully bright white lights that showered everything in a soft glow and the high pitched humming that reverberated in the back of her teeth and ears. It all felt so sterile. This was only her second visit down to the detainment bay, the first had been a quality check before initial take off. It had been affectionately deemed "The Brig" and known to Earth's Special Forces officers as the "Ship's Detainment Units" and had never held anything more exotic than a certain unruly lieutenant that needed to sleep off a night of drinking.

Five cells wrapped in a semicircle around the edges of the room leaving the rest of it open for the guard that stood duty. It was designed so one officer could view all cells at all times from a safe distance. It sat empty, as it had for most of the journey, except for one cell and one ensign.

Smoothing her hands over her uniform, she cleared her throat, and stepped forward. Part of her wished Goku was there with her butl89 mmm she knew better. Bulma had insisted Goku stay behind, much to his dismay. He was simply too excited about the prisoner to be useful and would only get in the way. He seemed more interested in sparring or making friends with the intruder than getting valuable information. Such as why are you here, where are you from, what is your name, how the Hell did you get on my ship?

The ensign looked more than a little surprised to see her. "Oh….Dr. Briefs." he stood stiff, straightening his pips and wiping his hands on the side of his uniform. He smiled sheepishly at her. "What brings you down here, sir?"

"I'm here on special assignment from the captain to interrogate the prisoner." Bulma stated, waving nonchalantly.

"Oh. Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Should be able to get pretty close Dr. Briefs. He's asleep now. Not surprised after the fight he put up, they doped him up pretty good just to get him in here. He hasn't made much trouble in here since we upped the security measures, but still I'd be wary after what happened." the ensign cautioned, holding his hands behind his back at attention, he was still shifting nervously.

She redirected the conversation with authority in her voice.

"What is all of this? " she gestured to the table in front of the ensign. A small computer pad rested on the right hand corner. The rest of the table was draped in a dirty, deep red cloth. It looked charred and thin, eaten away by moths and the twiddling fingers of time. Sitting atop the cloth was an arsenal of primitive-looking weapons. An array of ancient, rusty firearms, what appeared to be makeshift explosives, two bandoliers, several knives, a small axe of some sort, and lots and lots of ammunition. There must have been at least fifteen weapons, not including the ammo. The ensign held a curious piece in his hand.

"Oh. Yes, sir. These are the weapons we managed to confiscate from the prisoner. We believe these to be all of them."

"And that ?"

"We don't know, sir. It was on the face of his companion. I think it's some sort of communication device but we don't know how it works."

"May I?" stretching out her hand, she smiled at him.

Smirking she turned the piece over and over in her hands.

Huh. What a strange device, for a strange fellow. She thought, stepping casually closer to the holding cell.

She watched him for a time. He was small and young. Probably her same age, and about her height as well. His right eye was swollen shut and dried blood speckled his face and arms. He was thin but muscular. The boy was handsome, with rich olive skin marred by pink and white scars. His ears were slightly taller than hers, sticking out from his mess of dark, spiky hair, with childish bangs that partially covered his eyes. His ears twitched ever so slightly as she stepped closer. The prisoner didn't look very intimidating. He had certainly taken a beating.

The prisoners clothes were a curiosity as well. He wore cargo pants, close-fitting and generously adorned with pockets and patches. They were tucked into large wooly-looking socks and a pair of well-worn, muddy boots. A utility belt slung around his slender waist, another across his chest. Layers of dirty ragged shirts, the top being a royal blue hugged close to his trim form. It nestled inside a faded vest, adorned with strange patches and many pockets as well. His chin dipped down under the edges of the scarlet red bandana around his neck. On his hands he wore dingy, white gloves. They had lines of designs in the fabric, almost like circuits.

What an incredibly odd-looking man. His choice of clothing was strange, sure. He looked like some sort of old movie pirate or cowboy...kind of both?

The weapons, the clothes, they were curiosities but they were not what she found most fascinating about him. Wrapped tightly around his waist, curling about his thin frame was a slender, furry tail. It twitched in tandem with his ears to every movement she made as she paced casually in front of his cell.

She had overestimated how terrifying the monster alien would be. Almost laughing at herself for having pictured a 7 ft tall, giant of a man with bony ridges on his face or something along the like. He was the opposite, he was….he was almost cute.

He leaned against the wall casually, slumped on the bare bed in the holding cell, his ankles crossed. He looked more like he was taking an afternoon nap under a tree than sitting in a holding cell in an alien vessel in the far reaches of space, his entire body seemed relaxed except for his furrowed eyebrows.

He wasn't sleeping at all. He was listening.

"I know you're not asleep." She mused, taking a playful step forward and smirking.

No response.

"My name is Dr. Briefs and I'm very interested in finding out how you got on my ship."

Nothing.

"Why have you come aboard the Capsule?"

The man's nose twitched slightly and he reached up to scratch it. Still leaning casually against the wall, he acted as though he could not hear her at all.

No one ignored Bulma and got away with it. She was beginning to feel annoyed. On top of being a raging weirdo, he was also rude.

"I'm not leaving until you say something. I can spend all night here, talking. In fact, I'm quite good at talking."

"Kapugi lou guku, suga. E kiga lo'u ulu.*" He grumbled at her, his rough voice a stark contrast from the delicate sounds that played off his tongue.

She almost took a step back but caught herself.

Oh…...OH.

She suddenly felt very foolish. She had never considered that he might not speak or understand Galactic Common. They were in the far reaches of the galaxy, after all. It was entirely plausible that he didn't understand her at all.

"Do you...do you understand what I'm saying?" she said with newfound thoughtfulness, crossing her hands in front of her.

The prisoner growled a deep guttural growl letting his head drop towards her and rest on his shoulder, slowly opening his eyes. They were dark and haunting like deep, open space. Large canines slipping over his bottom lip, as he sneered.

At a first glance he looked human, but he most certainly was not. He was something else entirely. But what? She had never seen an alien species so similar to her own before and at the same time he felt unfamiliar.

He fascinated her. She wanted to ask him a thousand questions and a thousand more. But that certainly wasn't going to work if they didn't speak the same language.

"Are you hungry or thirsty?" she questioned slowly.

"Tzch." was his only response, and with that he turned his head towards the wall.

She turned to the Special Forces officer. "How long has he been here?"

He pulled up the pad from the table and pressed rapidly on the screen. "17 hours, sir."

"Has he been given food and water?"

"Uh….." Again the ensign turned to the pad, running through the logs. "No, sir."

"How incredibly hospitable of us." disdain dripped from her voice as she watched the man in the cell shimmy down onto the bed, wrapping his arms around himself, his back still turned to her. "Did someone order that or are we just neglectful?"

The officer cleared his throat awkwardly. "No, sir. It was not ordered."

"Have food sent down here for him, right away." she paused, waiting for a nod of affirmation. "Thank you, ensign. That will be all." and with that she tugged on her uniform top, turned on her heels, and walked brusquely out of the room.


Stardate 47634.44

July 1, 2020

4:00 pm

Bulma did not know how long she had been decoding maps and deciphering code but it was long enough that her neck ached, and her eyes burned. She set down the pad and let her heavy head fall into her hands. She hadn't made any progress anyways, everytime she felt she had hit her stride her thoughts wandered back through the winding hallways, down to The Brig and plunged into the dark, deep eyes of the alien.

She needed a break. Goku had always been particularly good at distracting her, especially when she hadn't wanted him to. She could use a good distraction right about now. Lightly she tapped the Capsule Corp lapel pin on the breast pocket of her uniform.

"Goku."

Nothing.

"Goku."

Again. Nothing.

She rolled her eyes. It was so typical of him if he hadn't lost the damn communicator he had left it somewhere.

"Mother." she spoke to the empty room and waited for the computer to respond.

The smooth computerized voice floated through the air. "How can I assist you today, Miss Bulma?"

"Mother, I need you to locate Goku."

"Son Goku is in The Lookout."

"Of course he is."


Bulma marched into the Lookout of the ship, out for blood.

The ship's mess hall was less of a cafeteria and more like a casual restaurant and bar. It had been aptly named. At the upper layer of the ships dome, it had a 360 degree view of the vastness of space.

It was open 24 hours a day and someone could always be found eating a meal or nursing a drink. Goku was almost always one of those people, if you could call what he did 'eating' and not something more accurate, like 'devouring'.

She found him hunched over a plate of flapjacks drowning in syrup and he was shovelling them into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in days. She stood in front of him, head cocked and arms folded. She cleared her throat. He looked up, eyes wide and face bright.

"Hey dork. What are you doing?"

He swallowed the mouthful of pancakes and chased them down with half a glass of milk, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm.

"Oh hey Bulma." he smiled brightly. He was a wreck as always. She was angry, she wanted to stay angry but she just couldn't. Goku never meant any harm by his negligence, he was simply distracted.

She pulled back the seat and spun it around leaning forward into the back of the chair and resting her chin on her arms.

"I saw the prisoner." Goku instantly stopped eating.

"Yeah?" he leaned forward, a mouthful of pancakes muffling his words. "What was he like? Is he strong?"

"Well, I don't know about that. He didn't look very strong. He looked more like a starving, dirty child."

"Child? How old is he?" Goku questioned, scratching the back of his neck absentmindedly.

"If I had to guess I'd say our age but I wouldn't know." she let her arms fall to her sides in exasperation. "Here's the thing Son. He doesn't speak Common and I have no idea whether or not he understands any of it."

"Oh." Goku's face fell into a confused pout. "That is a problem, isn't it?" he swallowed hard, chasing the pancakes down with the rest of his milk.

Goku leaned forward again. "So. Whatcha gonna do about it Bulma?"

Before she could respond her communicator beeped. She tapped gently on the lapel pin and spoke. "Dr. Briefs."

"Yes. Dr. Briefs. This is Ensign Kim. The doctor has prepared the intruders belongings for you."

"Roger that." she muttered and let her hands drop into her face.

Bulma peered at Goku through her fingers and sighed heavily before swinging her legs off the chair and standing up. She pulled on the hem of her uniform top and forced a smile.

"Well, wish me luck."


Stardate 96104.19

July 3rd 9:15 am

Bulma could still see her face when she closed her eyes. It haunted her. They were intruders on the ship and the officers had been justified in the capture and death of the aliens. But she couldn't help but feel a twang of guilt. They had disposed of all clothing the intruder wore as well. Anything that could possibly transmit disease. It had been over 24 hours after the rest of it had been decontaminated.

She hugged the armful of bobbles closer to her chest. They smelled familiar, like engine grease, singed cotton, and sweat.

She couldn't think about it now. It would do no one any good.

Bulma pressed her elbow against the door pad and entered into utter chaos.

The guards were standing alert and tesne, shouting for the prisoner to back away from the forcefield. The prisoner was growling and pacing. The growl so deep it seemed more like a wolf than a person. His tail whipping back and forth behind him like an angry cat. He seemed to hold everyone in the room taut on some invisible string as he moved back and forth was so strong she could almost smell it, taste it. He roared at the guards who had their phase guns at the ready. Though he was still contained in the forcefield, they seemed terrified that that would not be the case for much longer.

She straightened herself with a self-satisfied smirk and marched forward with the tray of food.

"Scream all you want, buddy. You're not getting out of there until I let you out . I designed and built these cells myself. I'm the best goddamned engineer in the galaxy." she marched past the stunned guards standing to meet his gaze, her free hand resting on her hip. "This force field can withstand more physical damage than you can dish out, I'm sure of that. It is impenetrable."

She crossed her arms in smug satisfaction and he stopped. His eyes bore into her. His gaze draining all of the confidence from her bones. She could feel the hatred seeping from his body.

Suddenly his head cocked to the side, almost in a subtle move of idle curiosity. He stepped forward and bore his teeth. It was barely more than a whisper.

"Fiapoko, le kama'ikeige.**" a moment of tense silence was broken and she jumped back, throwing her arms over her face as he slammed his forearms into the forcefield. The prisoner held them steady as the electricity crackled and sparked around him, threatening to throw his body backwards. "Se'iloa..."

She had underestimated him. Any other man would have been on the floor writhing in pain but he stood there, unwavering. And it was in that moment she saw what the guards had always seen. There was a raw savagery in his eyes that frightened her and though they didn't speak the same language the message was clearly understood. He wanted to kill her, to kill all of them and if he ever got out he would do just that.

She approached with new fire in her eyes. Her throat was suddenly, unbearably dry.

"I brought these for you. They belonged to your friend."

"Pasili." his mask of anger cracked for just a moment and for a moment, just a moment Bulma could see the crashing waves of pain underneath. As soon as it had fallen, it returned. "Pe ke aumai ai iake a'u, pe e ke fa'amimika?***"

Bulma shifted the tray in her arms and gestured to the warm meal she had brought with her. "Oh. I also brought you some more food. I heard you didn't eat the last meal that was brought down. Is that because you're worried it's poisoned?"

"Leai. Lakou ke le'i aumai le ipu. E ui i lea, 'ai 'ua o'oga lava.+" he sneered looking at the officer on duty with venom.

"Well, if you are...it's not. See?" she took a slice of pear from the tray and popped it in her mouth. "I mean, it's not the best food. It's grown in our hydroponics bay so it doesn't really compare to fresh fruit from Earth but it's edible. That's for sure. I mean, as long as you're not trying the meatloaf." she chuckled and smiled at him sweetly. Bulma turned to the officer on duty taking note of the number of ranking pips on his collar.

"Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

"Give these to our guest please." She turned to leave but his nervous hum stopped her. "What is it?"

"Well sir, Ensign Bronsen and I were unable to lower the forcefield safely."

Bulma's face dropped instantly into a scowl. "So you're telling me you boneheads were too afraid to lower the field and pass the tray inside so you just didn't give him food and water? "

"Well…"

"My god." She grabbed the tray and the odds and ends left on the table and stomped over to the holding cell.

"You do understand how this works, don't you?" The officer said nothing but watched with a look of shame as she slid the tray through the forcefield effortlessly on the ground.

"The force field is programmed to be omnidirectional but you can reverse the polarity and pass things through it. Look."

The prisoner hesitated for a moment before crossing his ankles and dropping to the floor. His legs crossed and right hand leaning into his knee so his elbow stuck up in the air. He began to shovel food into his mouth.

"Poor thing must be starving." something inside of her ached. She turned to leave, stopping beside the officer without taking her eyes off the door. "The Captain will hear of this."

And with that she was gone.


Stardate 96118.1

July 8th 11:15 am

Bulma sat on the walkway that overlooked the promenade. Her feet dangling over the edge as she leaned heavily into the railing.

She was deep in her thoughts, thick and heavy they sloshed around in her brain causing her skull to thump and her head to ache. What was she going to do with the prisoner? More importantly, what was the captain going to do with him? Against Bulma's recommendations she had sent out a beacon with the prisoners information and image.

Only time would tell if anything came of it. For now they had rerouted to Rura Penthe to drop him off. A galactic detainment facility of sorts.

She couldn't get his face out of her head, his deep eyes, his ferocious growl that shook her ribs and curled up her spine.

Bulma was more than lost in thought, she was drowning in it.

She hadn't noticed Goku drop down beside her until she felt a hand resting on her shoulder. Goku peered at her from behind a dark mop of messy hair, eyebrows knit together in concern.

"You alright Bulma?"

She sighed.

"You wanna talk about it?" he questioned tenderly.

"No. Not really Goku." she leaned further on the metal railing, resting her chin on it and muttering through clenched teeth.

Goku didn't know many things but he knew Bulma. And he knew that that meant yes.

He gave her a thoughtful grin. And her carefully painted facade melted, running down her cheeks like rain on a window.

"He's not a monster, he's just a kid. His name is 'Vesita'" Bulma struggled with the sounds in the name - they didn't quite have the right letters for it in Galactic Common. "anyway, we're diverting to take him to what is essentially a concentration camp."

"Vegeta, eh?" Goku mused, blissfully butchering the phonetics, "I heard about how he fought when we were boarded. If he's only a kid I would love to fight him when he grows up"

Bulma proceeded to tell him everything. She talked about the beacon, about the response, about the fact that they had found prisoner in a database of wanted criminals. How the captain refused to budge on her decision about the boy. All of it. After she finished she rested her cheek against the cool metal of the railing and sighed in exasperation.

Goku thought for a moment and then let his head fall on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, I know it'll all work out." He said sweetly. She turned her head over to lean against his.

"That's the thing Goku. I don't."

He smiled at her. It was so pure and so innocent. A smile without a care in the world.

"You'll see." and with that he left, leaving Bulma with her thoughts.


Stardate 96118.1

July 8th 8:54 pm

Bulma set the tray of food down reverently and pushed it over the lip of the forcefield and into the holding cell. Again the prisoner dropped to the floor, legs crossed, hand on his knee and elbow in the air. He bent over the tray shoveling food into his mouth hungrily.

"I have news for you." her voice was meek and tender. She could see his ears twitch. He had noticed the difference in her tone and he stopped eating to look at her with dark, curious eyes. "You are being transferred to a detainment facility where you will await your trial." she knew he couldn't understand her but part of her wished he would. She needed him to. "Rura Penthe is…" she swallowed hard. "It is a penal colony and unlike me, they will do whatever is necessary to get their answers. The 'trial' you have scheduled, will not be fair - if you even survive long enough. Most don't. They put a beacon out and got a message back. It seems someone has been looking for you. Someone by the name of Frieza."

The prisoner dropped what he held in his hand and instinctively pulled himself back, knees curling up to his chest. He looked at her with a mix of confusion, anger, and fear as his chest fluttered like a bird. Bulma couldn't help but feel a pang at his distress. The name must have meant something to him.

"Frisa..." his voice lingered on the final vowel, slowly trailing off.

She turned on her heels, eyes locked with the man inside the holding cell. She felt sick to her stomach. He was a war criminal. A murderer. She shouldn't feel bad for handing him over. Should she?

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat that threatened to crush her words. "Lieutenant how long until we reach Rura Penthe?" her eyes never left the prisoner as she spoke. The soldier looked down at his pad.

"26 hours, sir."

"Thank you."

And with that she spun on her heels and marched out of The Brig.

That night Bulma dreamt of the prisoner.

She awoke in a cold sweat, bolting upright in bed. She looked out on the fine white lines that flew past her window as they moved at warp speed. She was never going to get her answers. But it was more than just her curious mind that left her unsettled. This man, this murderer in her brig. He would be put to death for his crimes, whether they were his or not., Bulma had done some reading about Rura Penthe and the 'criminal justice' system it represented, if you could call it that. It seemed like all one had to do for a one way ticket to hell in that place was be accused of a crime, let alone actually commit one.

She didn't bother to put on her uniform or slip into shoes instead she simply pulled the blanket from her bed as she tumbled to the ground. Grabbing the items she left on her nightstand she left her room. Quietly padding through the tunnel hallways, her mind wandered as she watched her shadow dance across the bulkheads in the blue running lights.

She tried not to think about what she was doing, and even more so, what it may mean. She had been speaking to the prisoner for days on end, and he had said nothing more than the occasional grunt, groan, or handful of words she didn't understand. She had spent nearly all her waking hours in the Brig with him and tomorrow he would be gone.

Bulma entered the Brig, the light that illuminated the underneath of the holding cell beds provided a soft blue glow to the room. She took a breath and padded over to sit outside his cell.

It was the first time he had slept since arriving onboard nearly 48 hours ago. But it wasn't a lulling, peaceful slumber. It was fitful,feverish, and full of twitches and growls. His eyebrows knit tight, as beads of sweat trickled down his face and his arms wrapped tightly around his chest.

Bulma watched him for a time. She wondered what he dreamt of. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. She wanted to lower the field, to place a gentle hand on his shoulder and wake him from his fitful slumber but she couldn't.

He jolted awake like he had been shocked. His breathing rapid and shallow, his dark eyes rolled around the room searching his surroundings.

She watched as he stood from under the cot rolling his neck and shoulders and made his way to take a drink from the jug of water that had been left for him.

"Se a lava le mea e maga'o iai le keige...++" he muttered through a stifled yawn.

"I wish I could understand you." she lamented thoughtfully.

"Leai, e ke le maga'o iai.+++" He scoffed.

Bulma paused before continuing. "The strangest thing happened..."

She waited, as she always did, for him to say anything. Looking across the empty room and rubbing her feet back and forth on the short, rough carpeted floor.

But silence greeted her. She leaned her head against the cold metal frame feeling the hum of the forcefield reverberate in the base of her skull. She never realised just how very cold and dark it got in The Brig at night. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, and curled the left side of her body against the wall that separated them. She snuck a glance inside. The prisoner was curled up in the far right-hand corner of the small holding cell tucked neatly underneath the bed again.

He was so small and so young. And he was filthy, battered and bruised. Whoever he was….whatever had made him into what he was... he was a criminal, a trespasser, a prisoner. She didn't know him, didn't know anything about him, but she felt like she did. She picked at the plastic edge of the tray of food she had brought, letting her thumb nail catch on the seam of the mold.

"...I...I dreamt about you."

He grunted and she watched with idle curiosity as his tail slithered across the floor and wrapped tightly around his waist as his arms hugged his chest closer.

She knew he was listening even though everything indicated otherwise.

"I wish you understood me. If you could just tell me. Tell me the truth…" she trailed off and sighed locking her fingers inbetween her toes and resting the side of her head on her knees. "They're going to hand you over tomorrow and that Lord Frieza is going to kill you." she wiped the tears from her face, unable to fathom exactly why she was crying.


Stardate 96117.63

July 9th 7:05 am

Bulma stood beside the captain on the bridge as the view screen activated and cut out the view of space and the single ship in the distance. A man with feminine features appeared on the screen. He wore extravagant armor, his hair in a long braid the color of emeralds.

"Captain Schmidt, I presume."

The woman next to Bulma nodded, clutching her hands behind her back. "Yes, you must be Lord Frieza. We were not expecting you for another twelve hours."

"Lord Frieza was unable to meet with you and sends his deepest regrets. Something has come up and I have been sent in his place to rendezvous and retrieve the prisoner. You'll find our authorization codes check out." a slippery smile played across his lips. He wasn't trying to hide his grin of satisfaction. Whoever the prisoner was, this man did not like him. Not one bit.

"Standby for docking."


"What do you suppose they would even use this for?" Bronson asked as he turned a metal ball in his hand, fingering the loose ring that stuck out the top.

"Honestly Bronson? I have no idea."

The prisoner scoffed as the two guards proceeded to examine his weapons stash with curiosity and eager eyes.

Valea.

"Fa'aekeeke, e ogo lavea o oukou maka makagofie...^" he cautioned smugly turning over and snuggling into the hard mattress pad. He would never admit it but he had slept better here in the holding cells of an alien ship than he had since he was a child. He began to drift off to sleep when he smelled something.

Before he felt anything, heard anything, he could smell it. It wafted through the air like the scent of death itself. It smelled like white musk and swamp water.

Zarbon.

Something was very wrong. Before he had time to work it out the bright lights, the Brig exploded in a shower of sparks and fine shards of glass, raining down on the officers and the prisoner. In an instant the ship exploded into chaos. With that, the guards were gone screaming into their lapel communicators and pulling their stun guns free from their holsters.

The prisoner smirked, rolling his shoulders and ran his hand through his loose bangs pushing them back into his mess of hair. He stepped over the threshold where the forcefield had been and into the darkness of the Brig.

O le'a malie lava.^^


Bulma ran as fast as her legs could take her but she couldn't run fast enough.

Goku? Where was Goku? She pressed on her badge and prayed to the Gods that Goku had his communicator.

"Son. Son Goku."

Nothing.

"Goku."

"Bulma?" There was so much static and chaos she could barely understand it. But it was him. She nearly fell to the ground in relief. She needed him now more than ever. She was terrified.

This couldn't be happening, this wasn't happening.

But the dead eyes of the ensign laying sprawled in the hallway said otherwise. She couldn't deny reality as much as she begged herself to.

"Goku, Goku. It was a trap. It was all a trap."

"Bulma. I need you to calm down. Breathe, ok? We are going to make it. I won't let anything happen to you. Where are you?"

"I'm...I'm on Deck C."

"Okay. I found Yamcha. He was hit pretty bad. We're on our way to the pods. Can you meet us there?"

Yeah. Yeah she could do that. She was halfway there. All she had to do was survive the chaos and explosions and hide from the boarding party long enough to get to the escape pods. She wasn't going to die like this and she definitely wasn't going to die today. No. With newfound vigor she ran to the wall computer and rapidly pulled up the mechanical status map of the ship. She had about six minutes before hull integrity breached.

Damn it.

Power was out on nearly all Decks. Only Deck B still had power. Deck B. Oh god. The prisoner.

She couldn't leave him there, could she? When she closed her eyes she could almost see him, his dark eyes filled with panic and fear trying to smash his way out as the ship fell to pieces around him. Nothing he could do but await his own death. Could she kill a murderer? Was he even a murderer? The rendezvous had been a set-up. Was he a criminal at all? No, she didn't need to rescue him or help him evade whatever justice it was he deserved. But she couldn't leave him to die. She would just free him and then he was no longer her responsibility, right? Right. He would have to find his own way off the ship. She grappled with herself as she ran towards the Brig. She just had to put in her code to override the forcefield and then she would leave him and meet Goku at the escape pod. Bulma tried to breathe as she pulled open the doors to the Brig. It took all her strength to wedge them open far enough to squeeze through. It was pitch black inside.

She threw her arms out in front of her, panting quietly and groping the darkness for any point of reference. She bumped into the table, her hands sprawled out to catch herself she felt around.

Empty.

There was nothing on the table. The hundreds of bullets and weapons were just... gone. Something wriggled up through the pit of her stomach and threatened to scream. She tried not to hyperventilate as she stepped backwards slowly towards the crack in the Brig doors.

She heard voices outside the door… and raucous laughter, they were getting closer. Frieza's soldiers.

Terror vibrated in her bones and made her feel dizzy and weak. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry but all she could do was stand there, paralyzed, while a quiet whimper escaped her. Bulma tried to scream but felt a rough hand wrap around her mouth and pull her backwards. Arms wrapped tight around her writhing body, she screamed into the hand and felt lips against her ear.

"Shhh-hhhh-hh. If you want to live, Soesa, you will be quiet." His harsh voice was oddly soothing.

"Got it?" He whispered to her. And it prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes and dripped down to his rough hand.

She nodded. She would be quiet. With one hand he casually pushed the Brig doors open and they stepped out into the chaos and the darkness.

Clearly the prisoner had better vision than she did. He moved around the bodies and rubble with grace and speed she had never seen before, all the while pulling her along behind him. She tripped and stumbled and struggled to keep up and stay quiet. Suddenly he stopped.

"Tsch." he shushed her, throwing his arm against her chest and shoving her against the wall. A single light flickered in the darkness down the hall, occasionally showering sparks and illuminating the hallway in flashes. She could hear marching and voices.

Someone was coming. More of Frieza's soldiers came running from both ends of the hallway. One particularly large alien with horns stepped out first. He saw the prisoner and chuckled.

"Well, if it isn't Vegeta."

She watched his ears twitch. Pulling his arm from her chest he slid them down his side silently.

The prisoner pulled the two guns from the holsters on his hips, spinning them with a flourish and smirking. He strode forward into the dark with a confident, wide stride. He burst into action, crossing his arms and fired the guns. Hitting his marks and dropping two soldiers. The prisoner straightened his crossed arms and fired again. Two more shots and two more bodies fell into the rubble of the hallway.

Tossing one of his guns into the air, he pulled a long knife from his boot and whipped around to face the soldier behind Bulma. He threw the knife into the dark and it hit its target with a heavy thuck and a groan . He casually caught his firearm and swiftly began to reload it.

Snarling, he broke into a sprint directly at the soldier who stood paralyzed, a long knife protruding from his abdomen. The prisoner dropped to the ground and slid between his legs pulling the handle of his knife downward and out. The soldier's guts spilled to the floor with a sickening plop .

The last soldier spoke, his once smug confidence had withered into fear.

"Now Vegeta, Lord Frieza just wants to speak to you." he laughed nervously.

The prisoner whipped around, still leaning on one knee, the other to his chest as he crouched forward. He spun the knife in his hand and with a flick of his wrist it was gone. Bulma tried to follow the movement as the knife whizzed past her in the dark hallways but she couldn't. She found it sticking from the soldier's forehead. Before she could process what was happening, the prisoner grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her down the hallway.

"Wa-wait. The escape pods are that way." she pointed desperately in the other direction pulling against his grip. He stopped and looked at her as she motioned the other way. He gestured for her to lead and they look off towards the escape pods.

It wasn't long before Vegeta, frustrated with Bulma's skittishness, took back the lead, content to occasionally pause and shoot a glance at her that she easily understood as him asking which direction to head next. They were lucky to avoid any other altercations, but the screams that echoed through the hallways made Bulma's skin crawl. Judging by how human the majority of the screaming was, she figured the crew wasn't as successful as Vegeta had been in fending off Frieza's men.

After what seemed like hours but also seconds, they made it to the launch bay.

"We have to go back. We have to wait for Goku. He's on his way. We can't leave."

"It's too late, Soesa. Your friends are dead." he responded coolly.

Not a single shuttle had been launched. No one else had made it this far. Maybe he was right.

Boarding the nearest shuttle, Vegeta went straight for the controls. He paused, his hands hovering in the air above the expansive touch-screen that lay in front of him.

"Oh, move over!" Bulma said. "You know, for a super space monkey you're hopeless." She shoved her body into his, displacing him as she sat down. She wasted no time in powering up the engines and rushing through the takeoff sequence.

They had barely cleared the launch bay when a beam of brilliant energy shot past their bow. Bulma jumped in her chair before launching into a litany of curses.

"Are they shooting at us?" she screamed. "Who do they think they are trying to sho-"

"Show me how to fly this thing or we are going to die, Soesa." He was watching her hands intently as she flew the shuttle.

"Would you stop calling me that? My name is Bul-"

"I don't care. That's clearly the impulse control, where does one adjust pitch and yaw?"

"You lied to me." She chided, as she pointed to a section of the controls "It's here. Pretty straight-forward."

"I did not. And what about entry and landing controls?"

"They're over here, just select the component on the shuttle's diagram and it will automatically start the necessary sequence. It's designed to be intuitive so even untrained individuals can use them in a pinch. Wait, why do you need to know about land-"

The last thing she felt was a sharp pain in the back of her head and then Bulma felt nothing at all.

"Fa'afetai.^^^"


AN: Thanks for reading everyone. We can't wait to post the future chapters. We're sticking pretty close to my original publishing schedule of around midnight MST on Saturday nights.

Hanko and I can't wait for you to see what is in store!

As always thanks to my valiant copy editors and to HellsBells9000 for beta-reading this for me. You are truly my sweet summer peach.


*Kapugi lou guku, suga. E kiga lo'u ulu.

Shut your mouth, girl. You're making my head hurt

**Fiapoko, le kama'ikeige….Se'iloa...

The girl is *pretentious…. We'll see…

***Pasili...Pe ke aumai ai iake a'u, pe e ke fa'amimika?

Basil, are you giving that to me, or are you bragging?

+Leai. Lakou ke le'i aumai le ipu. E ui i lea, 'ai 'ua o'oga lava.

No. They haven't brought me the dish. Nevertheless, it's probably poisoned.

++Se a lava le mea e maga'o iai le keige...

What does the girl want now….?

+++Leai, e ke le maga'o iai.

No, you don't want it/that

^Fa'aekeeke, e ogo lavea o oukou maka makagofie...

Careful, you might hurt your pretty faces…

^^O le'a malie lava.

This'll be fun/entertaining

^^^Fa'afetai.

Thank you.