FROM BAD TO WORSE...
Chapter Seventeen - Poisoned Memories
Bulma didn't put too much thought into Vegeta's odd habit of leaving the bed by mid-morning and moving to the couch. She well remembered his previous training schedule at Capsule Corp. that had him jogging practically before daybreak and she viewed this as a sign that his system was finally free of the alien illness at long last. Misinterpreting his restlessness, she made arrangements with the hotel manager for the gym to be open two hours earlier. At first, the Saiyan wasn't too keen on the idea, still displaying that reluctance to resume his training although he had given her no clear reason for it. He ended up relenting but not for the reasons she thought.
'First lovers are special'. Damned if those four little words didn't echo in the back of his mind and rebound off of the walls he had erected, shaking loose whatever had been encrusted on their surface. He'd always had bad dreams but ever since the debilitating effects of the V'Nhar, nightmares that he hadn't considered for decades were returning with a vengeance. For some reason, Bulma's close proximity and their resultant intimacy only seemed to be making things worse. He would have liked to discuss the situation with Radditz or Nappa but once the fever had left, so had they. He was on his own again, left to suffer in silence. The story of his life.
Prowling the empty gym, he viewed the equipment with a disinterested eye acutely missing the gravity simulator. Bulma and her father had made amends and they were both welcome back to Capsule Corp. but neither made the first move that would finalize the decision to return. For Vegeta, the reason not to go back was simple; he was still monumentally pissed at the old goat. Bulma's reasons were more complex and, with her usual honesty, she had confessed her fears to him late one night.
"If we go back to Capsule Corp. I'll lose you to your training again, won't I?" she had asked in the darkness.
At first he hadn't been willing to answer and eventually muttered out an affirmative. Hearing that, she had held onto him with an almost panicked embrace and whispered into his ear. "That's why I don't want to go back. I'm not an idiot, I know this won't last forever but until you're ready to go, I want to treasure every single minute that I can share with you, Vegeta. I love you so much."
Unable to come up with a response, he feigned sleep then hoping that she would fall for the ruse and just shut the hell up. Eventually she did but not long after he had suffered the worst nightmare to date. Fortunately, she had been too exhausted by their earlier coupling to be roused by his childlike whimpers of terror.
Feeling anxiety settle in between his shoulder blades he decided that exercise might help to ease the tension and added all of the weights he could find to a sturdy barbell that, if placed on its end was taller than he was. He hefted it easily with his right hand and settled on using the bulky thing for a series of one-arm dumbbell rows and shrugs. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw wide-eyed faces pressed up against the window of the locked door watching him heft the barbell with no apparent strain. Word had spread quickly among the staff of his solitary training and despite the early hour of five-thirty there was always some groupie hovering around.
Going through his reps with barely any conscious effort, the Saiyan was interrupted by an urgent tapping on the glass. Some young porter who had been hanging around the last couple of mornings was giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up. Vegeta flipped him off and returned to his own morbid brooding.
Two hours later he was considerably more relaxed with the satisfaction brought about by a good morning of weight training. He spent the remainder of the day going through the motions of his kata out on the balcony, finishing up with handstands and one-armed push-ups on the railing. Observing him from the sidelines, Bulma watched him go through his solitary motions that were a second nature to the skilled Saiyan, marveling at his alien technique and flexibility. Despite the prolonged period of inactivity under the V'Nhar he seemed to be the same outstanding physical specimen he always had been for as long as she had known him, not suffering any atrophying of the muscles. Bulma was immensely turned on from her role as spectator and after a quick supper the pair began making out on the balcony. It began as simple necking but both individuals had worked themselves into such a state of intense passion that Bulma was soon leaning over the railing as he was preparing to take her from behind, neither caring who might be watching them. She was moaning her eagerness when she caught a glimpse of light far to the left and suddenly released a squeal of excitement.
"Shit. I haven't even gotten it in yet-" Vegeta was grumbling behind her.
"Look! Look over there!" Bulma was pointing to the south where a vaguely transparent circular object was poised over the Capital. Fumbling with his zipper, he cast an irritated glance up and recoiled as if struck, betraying a choked gasp of fear.
He was seeing the planet's full moon for the first time.
"Dad told me that the Mayor had wanted a holographic generator made to display the moon phases over the city," Bulma spouted enthusiastically. "Everybody missed it sooo much after Piccolo destroyed it two years ago. I had forgotten how beautiful it was. Isn't it wonderful, Vegeta?...Vegeta?"
She turned and saw that the Saiyan had retreated into the living room. He was staring down at his hands with a mixture of expectation and horror.
"What-what's wrong?" she dared to ask.
He looked up at her, out to the balcony and back down at himself, the tension in his muscles lessening as the reality of the situation became clear. He composed himself with obvious effort and told her, "It's nothing. I just forgot-"
"-That you don't have a tail?" Bulma asked in a quiet voice as she slowly approached him. "You thought you were going to go Oozaru when you were with me, didn't you?"
"It...happened once before," he confided to her as his expression changed to one of disgust.
"I don't understand," she confessed.
Shaking his head, he began to step away from her when she caught his arm and pulled him over to the sofa. He relented for a number of reasons; weariness from the days training, a fervent desire NOT to have her start screaming at him and, perhaps the most plausible, he needed to unburden himself of this terrible memory. Perhaps Bulma could bear listening to it, maybe not, but she deserved some degree of the same truth that she had presented to him and he knew she was the only person he would ever confide in so long as he was on Earth.
"It was a rite of passage," he said at last, unable to so much as glance in her direction. "Nappa and Radditz set it up. I didn't know what those two idiots were planning, I swear it on my fathers crown."
Cold dread settled in the pit of Bulma's stomach at the foreboding to the terse sentences. She knew this wasn't going to be good but Vegeta's confessions were rarer than solar eclipses and telling him to stop was not an option. "I'm listening," she assured him in a steady voice.
Vegeta sighed and looked into her probing eyes with an intensity that chilled her to the bone. "I was in my first heat and my homeworld was gone. I could not turn to a skilled Saiyan concubine so Nappa and Radditz made the arrangements for me. They picked the world, the woman, right down to the time, all I had to do was show up." He drew in a shaky breath and continued, "The coupling had barely commenced when the woman pointed to the window and said, 'I was told to show that to you.' "
"Show you what?" Bulma prompted when he had lapsed into troubled silence.
"The planet had three moons and all were full. The room Nappa arranged was positioned exactly where the three converged together. My transformation to Oozaru was virtually instantaneous. That, combined with my first sexual experience..."
Bulma went deathly pale, as the impact of what he was trying to tell her became brutally clear.
"By the time I regained my senses, the woman was little more than a smear," he finished in a low voice. "I had been only thirteen years old at the time."
His troubled face swam under a veil of tears as Bulma coped with what he had told her. She was only vaguely aware that she was trembling. "Oh... my... god..." she rasped out.
"Nappa and Radditz treated it as a big joke. It was one of those Saiyan traditions among soldiers that nobody talked about. Radditz would do such a thing just for fun when the mood struck him. They had decades of seniority over me, I had no choice but to laugh it off." He ran a trembling hand through his thick hair. "Our talk the other night of first times brought it back for me. I just shrugged it off until I saw that hologram and we were-" He betrayed a shudder and then fell silent looking at her with troubled eyes.
Bulma moved in to embrace him but the time for confessions was over and Vegeta had already betrayed far too much to her already. He could offer her no reason why something that had happened so long ago now bothered him. He only knew that this odd-haired creature was somehow to blame but he discovered that he could not fault her for it. Before he confessed more of himself, he retreated to the bedroom in hopes of at least one night of nightmare-free slumber.
Bulma stayed up for a few more hours trying to watch TV but her mind was not focusing on what was displayed on the large screen. All she could think of was what Vegeta had told her over a week ago in the pool area about the ignorant nature of his traveling companions. He had offered her a bare glimpse of what his life had been like. Each small admittance betrayed a piece of his past that had served to fashion him into the calculating, methodical killer that he had been. Dear Kami, she thought, what else has he endured in his life?
Retiring for the night, she got ready for bed and slid under the covers, pressing herself up close to him and observing his face. He was dreaming again, his eyes were rolling beneath the closed lids and once in awhile his body would give a reflexive twitch. She laid her forehead against his and, just before falling asleep, thought; 'Let me in. You don't have to suffer these dreams alone if you would only let me in.'
And, unknown to either of them, he did.
He squinted at the girl in annoyance when she refused to back down from his advance. She was completely unafraid of him even though the carnage of her family and friends scattered around her was full evidence of his murderous potential. She was maybe a year or two younger than his own sixteen years and Vegeta was at a complete loss as to how to deal with an emotion other than terror.
"Well?" the girl challenged. "I'm alone and defenseless. Get it over with!"
Crossing his arms in that usual brazen stance, the Saiyan continued to observe her as one would a particularly exotic insect. "You're not afraid of me." He couldn't seem to understand it.
Holding her head high, the younger alien stated, "I face my death without fear. There are such things among my people as pride and honor. You wouldn't understand them, murderer. I'll not lower myself and beg for my life to the likes of you."
Vegeta's face flushed with barely restrained rage and he pointed his index and middle fingers at the girl who didn't even flinch at the gesture. "I know what pride and honor is, bitch."
"And you prove it by slaughtering an innocent unarmed people?" She spat down at the ground beside his feet. "You have no comprehension of what you've done to us."
Vegeta's fingers had begun glowing slightly and he abruptly dropped his hand to his side. "My world was destroyed," he admitted. "My people were killed."
"It looks like the explosion missed one of you," the girl sneered.
"I was given to the tyrant responsible for the act."
"So, you're a slave?" the female's dark brown face softened a bit.
Vegeta stiffened at the accusation. "No."
"You stay with him willingly?"
"...No."
She frowned at him in confusion. "Then what else are you?"
He opened his mouth to respond and faltered instead. Without another word he left her among the devastation of the village and shelved the puzzling exchange as he performed a thorough reconnaissance along the northern end of his assigned continent. As far as he could tell by eye and by his scouter, the purging had gone according to plan. After he had some time to figure out his conflicted thoughts, he returned to the village eager for another debate with the lone survivor but she had apparently moved on. Unnerved, he rejoined the cadre assigned to accompany him, commanded by Frieza's new Lieutenant; an over-eager green-skinned pretty boy by the name of Zarbon.
"Any problems?" the elegant male asked pleasantly when Vegeta dropped out of the sky.
Ignoring him, the Saiyan began heading for his pod when Zarbon called out, "Oi! You forgot this, monkey boy!"
Growling at the deliberate insult, Vegeta whirled to confront the alien when he abruptly fumbled with something that had been thrown to him. Turning it over he saw that it was the alien girl's severed head. Her mouth was open in a silent scream and her eyes had rolled condemningly up at his own. The eye color was an odd one he had not noticed before.
They were blue.
"I informed Frieza of your incomplete purge," Zarbon continued in a mocking voice. "He's very disappointed in you. He's waiting in his personal chambers for a thorough briefing of your report."
"I'll just bet he is," Vegeta snarled through clenched teeth and pitched the girl's head over his left shoulder as he continued his walk to the space pod.
It was a little after four in the morning and Bulma was sitting on the couch staring absently at the television as she smoked a cigarette. She was unaware that she was no longer alone until a voice behind her grated out; "You're in my spot."
Flinching in surprise, the cigarette fell from numb fingers and was snatched out of the air. Vegeta regarded it critically for a moment and then put it to his own mouth before Bulma's dumbstruck eyes. "Vegeta?!"
"You humans," he shook his head. "You think you're the first and only culture to ever manufacture such crude diversions." He drew deeply on it for a moment and then handed it back. "As I said, you're sitting in my spot."
Bulma smiled. It was the first time the Saiyan had seen her doing the disgusting habit and hadn't had a fit like the other Z Fighters had. Particularly Yamcha. The tension in her face eased as she said, "There's a good movie on television I've been meaning to see-"
"Now?"
"It won't be on again," she lied. "I don't want to miss it. Do you mind if I stay on the couch? You can join me."
He shook his head. "The gym will be open soon," he said briefly and left to return to the bedroom to get changed. Behind him, Bulma snubbed out her finished smoke and immediately lit another. Her hands were shaking a bit as she struggled with the lighter and her own whirling thoughts.
"It wasn't real. I just had a dream about him. It didn't really happen." she muttered to herself, but the following night it happened again.
This was, without a doubt, their most miserable assignment to date.
The world that they had been sent to 'cleanse' was a young planet, geologically speaking, still restless and hot, seething with uncontrollable volcanic activity and sulfur dioxide geysers. The lava flows ran for hundreds of kilometers, looking like glowing rivers of bloody pus, incinerating all it encountered. The erupting volcanoes belched suffocating ash and carbon dioxide into the grimy atmosphere, transforming the world into an inhospitable sauna where even the merest drop of moisture had been boiled away millennia ago. High above, hydrogen sulfide clouds were twisted into malignant shades of oranges and browns by bitter, shrieking winds that never ceased. Any features on the sparse landscape had been scrubbed clean long ago, transforming the entire planet into one gigantic, barren plain.
One giant behemoth of a humanoid emerged from a curtain of wind-blown cinders dragging a body along either side of him. A thick mane of ebony hair blew back from his pronounced widows' peak and trailed along behind him like a heavy cape. His arms and legs were bare, rippling with thick warrior muscle as he moved. The rest of his body was armored with wide, flaring padding that encircled either shoulder and protectively covered his hips and groin area. To further complete the look of wrongness to the figure was a prehensile tail that encircled his thick waist like a furry belt.
The male threw down the bodies with a grunt and fingered the electronic device that was fastened over his left ear and did a brief examination of his bleak surroundings through the attached eyepiece before speaking out loud; "Radditz here. I've finished my sweep of Gamma sector."
There was a rough crackle of static in response before he heard a coarse voice answer back; "-most through here. Any hostiles?"
"I wouldn't call them hostile by any stretch of the imagination," Radditz growled and kicked at the nearest body in frustration. The toe of his boot punctured the stomach in an explosion of blood and entrails. "I found only two."
Another squeal of static. The warrior almost yanked the scouter off before he went deaf. "What was that, Nappa? You're breaking up. Say again."
"-cking planet! I said, I found a party favor that'll make this bughunt worthwhile. Just wait right -" The other soldiers voice disappeared in a blaze of static before the comlink went dead. This time Radditz did pull off the device and throw it to the ground with a curse. He eyed it morosely for a few moments, his manner almost resembling a sulk before he reluctantly picked it up again. He lowered the volume and tried a different band.
"Radditz to Vegeta. Come in."
The response was instantaneous. "What is it now?" a terse voice said peevishly through weaker static.
Hearing the irritation there, Radditz paused, considering his words carefully. All he could come up with was, "Uhhh ... how're you doing?"
There was a weary grunt on the other end until that voice snapped, "Don't bother me, you moron!" The link was abruptly severed, making the huge warrior wince.
"Fucking runt," he grumbled AFTER he had taken off his scouter and massaged his ringing ear.
"Watch your mouth." A voice snapped from above. "Vegeta has good reason to be pissed."
"You always come in defense of him," Radditz snorted, stepping aside in deference to the even larger warrior who landed beside him, carrying a wrapped bundle in his powerful arms. Fully a head taller than the other man, the Elite soldier known as Nappa leered down at his companion, his brutish features flushed with excitement. A sheen of oily sweat coated his bare pate, adding to the crazed look the man possessed at most times.
"He is our Prince who, need I remind you," Nappa's grin widened even further, "Could turn you inside out with just a thought if he wanted to."
Radditz shrugged off the caution. "The way he's been acting lately it wouldn't surprise me if it happened to us both."
"It's Frieza's fault. He's been riding Vegeta harder than usual."
Radditz snickered cruelly at the poor wording and Nappa deliberately ignored him as he looked out beyond the dust storms to the open plain. Their young Prince had been positively grim the last few weeks even before their employer, Frieza, had sent them to this godforsaken planet. They had been here for over two days expunging the world of some alien squatters before the new tenants moved in; a celestial version of pest control. It was an assignment beneath their abilities and Vegeta's moodiness only intensified the longer it took to complete the job. This should have been a simple sweep-and-purge mission but the harsh climate was working against them and the dense magnetic core of the planet was playing havoc on their scouters. Even more upsetting was the explicit order to leave the surface completely unmarred with absolutely no trace of any ki explosions. The squatters had retreated underground in a labyrinth of tunnels and caves that left the three of them no choice but to chase after them on foot.
Well, that had been the plan at least. Unfortunately the warren of openings they'd found weren't large enough to accommodate either of Radditz's or Nappa's over-sized dimensions and they were forbidden to damage the surface and enlarge them. Enraged, Nappa had charged into a hole and had been stuck like a cork in a bottle for the better part of a day. That left Vegeta, who was far smaller, to hunt the passageways alone and flush the aliens to the surface where the other two could pick them off. He had been at it steadily for the last two days and was now stalking after a particularly elusive handful, his patience eroding by the minute...
Radditz opened his mouth to ask his companion what he had brought when the ground gave one sickening lurch beneath them.
"Uh oh," Nappa managed to get out before there was an explosion several hundred meters away that ripped a fissure into the harsh earth and tapped into a underground stream of molten lava, spewing the acrid contents into the twisting clouds. Two more explosions peppered the landscape, each one larger than before and finally, one more followed that dwarfed its predecessors with its violence. The entire planet gave one compulsive shudder with the savage force of the blast. Both warriors threw up a desperate shield of protection around themselves as steaming magma, rubble and scattered body parts rained down upon them in putrid streamers.
Radditz lowered his shield and saw the complete ruination to a plain they had been forbidden to damage in any way. "Oh shit. We are screwed! Frieza's gonna have our tails for this! LITERALLY!!"
"Oh, shut up!" Nappa barked at him and the younger man went silent, quaking in his boots. With deceptive calm, the bald soldier cast a shrewd glance out towards the devastation and saw a lone figure approach them, his small frame still smoldering from the energies of his release. "Vegeta!" he called.
Ignoring the greeting, the figure emerged from the grimy smoke and then stopped to look around. His uniform was completely different then his companions, with a dark blue battle suit beneath his armor and orange gloves and boots. In the odd lighting of the world his flame styled hair had an auburn sheen that was not unattractive. His feral eyes possessed an ebon regard of dark cruelty and ancient hatred, devoid of compassion or sincerity. Behind him his tail lashed furiously from side to side, the short hairs erect and puffing the appendage out to twice its normal size.
There was a plaintive wail from nearby where an infant had been thrown clear of one of the explosions. Following the sound, Vegeta found it lying in a shallow trench, miraculously unhurt, its small limbs flailing in distress. Without expression, the Prince brought his boot down squarely on the babe's face, shattering its skull and deliberately twisting his heel in the remains.
"Fucking brat," he hissed. He stepped away and dragged his foot along the dirt to clean it of the brain matter before he joined up with the two others. "We're finished here," he announced. "That swarm was the last of them."
"Oh, we're finished all right," Radditz rasped. "You knew our orders. You just signed our death-warrants!"
"We were never meant to succeed in this mission," Vegeta grumbled, eyeing one of the bodies that the third-class warrior had dragged over. The race was vaguely humanoid with thick-shelled bodies and over-large hands for burrowing purposes in this harsh climate. "This world is destined to be a dumping ground for garbage, not people."
"Then why all the fuss not to damage it?" Nappa asked with his usual ignorance, blinking at the infuriated looks the other two Saiyan's flashed him. "Oooh! Frieza's just looking for an excuse to punish us!"
"Our entertainment value has diminished considerably, particularly mine," Vegeta told them. "If we go back now, Frieza will kill me. I've no doubt of that."
"Without you, we wouldn't last an hour!" Radditz spat out, knowing full well just how many times their Prince had leapt to their defense against their employers wrath when the two soldiers fouled up an assignment (which happened quite regularly).
The smaller Saiyan gave one curt nod in agreement. Nappa instantly recognized that pensive expression on his young charge's face and asked, "What's your plan, Vegeta?"
"Radditz, you've mentioned a younger brother that was sent off of Vegetasei before its destruction-"
"-Kakarrot, yeah," The large warrior grunted.
Vegeta nodded. "I want you to track him down. The time to challenge Frieza is coming quickly and another Saiyan ally would be useful, even a weak one of third class. Understand?"
Radditz faltered. "You want me to go NOW?!"
Before Vegeta could snarl out an affirmative, Nappa blurted out, "Have I got a farewell present for you!" He unwrapped the bundle he had been carrying to expose a barely conscious female native. "I'll even let you have the first crack at 'er!"
His rough features contorted into an expression of lust and cruelty, Radditz unfurled his tail and began to loosen the straps of his codpiece. He cast an inquiring glance at Vegeta who was eyeing the woman with mixed emotions in his dark eyes. "Do you want to break her first, my prince?"
Vegeta's top lip curled into a feral sneer. "I'll pass. I've got strategizing to do," he said briefly and stalked a short distance away. Behind him Nappa and Radditz eagerly pounced on the terrified female and the harsh climate was split apart by their labored grunts and her own wails of agony.
Bulma sat up with a scream behind her lips and cast a wide-eyed terrified look to the creature that was sharing her bed. Vegeta appeared to be unfazed by the violence of his dream, his sleeping features actually calmer then usual. There could be no doubt, now. Somehow, for some reason, a bridge had been created between their two minds that was allowing her to catch glimpses of his memory when he was asleep and his usual guards were down. Being such close companions for so long a time to the other two Saiyans, Vegeta actually dreamt of their varied perspectives, no doubt a result of some intermingled rapport. It made this vision all the more terrifying because she was seeing it from all of their different viewpoints. She had figured that his past had been brutal but, dear Kami, nothing like THIS! She had never wanted to see that he was-
'-Darkness. I'm evil. If you didn't like it, you wouldn't be here with me,' he rasped into her mind and her stomach gave one sickening lurch. She got out of bed and ran to the bathroom with her hand over her mouth. She barely made it to the toilet before she vomited and dry-heaved until she saw stars. Laying her spinning head on the rim of the porcelain she barely heard Vegeta yelling at her to keep it down.
For no good reason that Vegeta could fathom, Bulma was withdrawn and moody the following day. The Saiyan didn't question his good fortune to be spared her eternal questioning but his senses were detecting a hidden tension beneath the few clipped words that the woman offered him. Conflicted by his own feelings of irritation and confusion, he took it as an opportunity to leave the hotel and take to the air.
He parted the heavy clouds above the Capital like an arrow and swiftly sped away, increasing his speed until the wind was screaming in his ears and his hair was plastered to the back of his neck. Being catered to in the hotel had been a pleasant diversion but he had missed the sensation of flight and the escape it provided him.
His half-closed eyes widened suddenly. Escape? It was a poor word to use to describe what he was feeling. He wasn't running from anything. For perhaps the first time in his life he was exercising a freedom that had been too long denied him and reveling in the singular pleasure of simply being alive. Frieza was dead and no longer able to torment him. He didn't have to bear Nappa and Radditz's low-browed presence's anymore. The dark knowledge of his destiny revealed at Kami's Lookout was accepted at long last. Even if it were true and he had only a mere decade to live, he was free to make his own decisions and decide on the course of his own life up until that dreaded moment. Lingering in the background of all of these thoughts was a fair skinned beauty with sea-foamed colored hair that had helped to shoulder his burden without a price, save that of her heart.
He burst through dark clouds into dazzling sunlight and extinguished his ki to experience freefall, performing a series of nimble rolls and dives. Scarcely before impact with the ground, Vegeta powered up again and blasted off, laughing maniacally.
Keeping his own personal ki at a minimum, Piccolo observed the Saiyan's actions from a safe distance. He had been continuing his vigil ever since Dr. Briefs had assembled the Z Fighters and told them that Vegeta was fine and the search had just been a false alarm. Sensing the tension in the old man's form, he had lingered behind as the others scattered and waited for the truth, not assured by the information confided to him. During the days of Vegeta's delirium, the Namek hovered outside on the balcony of Bulma's hotel room, ready to intervene if the Saiyan attempted to bolt. After his recovery, the Namek retreated to the roof of a nearby building. He expected Vegeta to sense him easily for all of the hours he'd spent sitting on the railing but it was clear the alien was distracted and not fully himself. Despite the distance of his perch, Piccolo witnessed far more than he ever wanted as the closeness between Bulma and Vegeta became uncomfortably evident. Not accustomed to playing the voyeur, the Namek's own sensitive hearing betrayed him even when he kept his eyes averted and his cheeks had been a dark emerald of discomfort more times than he wanted to count. Trunks' premonition of passion between the well-matched pair had finally come true cinching their intermingled destiny but Piccolo wasn't willing to let his vigil go. Not yet...
When he had just witnessed the Saiyan's plummet to earth he had been about to intervene, fearing another suicidal attempt. After all of his time of silence, Kami picked this moment to intrude on his thoughts. The elder Namek told him to stay his place and Piccolo could hardly believe it as Vegeta playfully powered up at the last possible minute and sped away, laughing out loud.
"He's alright," Piccolo rumbled contentedly, his grim visage not betraying the true relief that he felt.
'It's more than that,' Kami assured him with a smug tone. 'He's actually happy.'
Nodding to himself, Piccolo glanced at the fading energy trail and concluded that his role of guardian was finally over. He turned his back and finally returned to Son Gokou's home to resume his training at long last. He was oblivious that another pair of eyes took note of his departure with acute relief.
Despite the unease that she now felt towards the Saiyan, Bulma found herself standing out on the balcony as the hour rolled to around midnight and he still hadn't returned from wherever he had gone. A part of her worried that perhaps the rapport had been twofold and he had been as privy to her thoughts as she appeared to be to his own. After a thorough self-searching, she concluded that there was nothing in her mind that could possibly offend him and his actions before leaving had betrayed no such knowledge. That earlier resolve of sticking to the Saiyan regardless of his past was flagging under the knowledge of her new insight. Both Yamcha and her father had called Vegeta a butcher and that was exactly what he was. But...
'Bulma, I am...lost.'
She shivered and blamed it on the cool night air. Casting an urgent look skywards, the stars were blurred by her remorseful tears. In her mind's eye she watched Vegeta crush a defenseless baby's skull, his face twisted into a rictus of rage and hate. There was none of the fading of details that usually came with reliving a dream and she could tell the distinction between the two. This was the reality, this had actually happened. This was the true legacy of the Saiyan's dark past; endless violence and merciless death.
'I'll end up either driving you away or killing you. That's how this game is played. That's how it's always been,' he assured her.
"No...NO!" Bulma wailed, choking back a sob. "That was before Namek, before he died and was brought back. He's different now!"
'I get up in the morning-I leave the simulator-Everywhere I turn- YOU'RE THERE! Now I can't even sleep at night without you intruding in my dreams. You. Are. Driving. Me. CRAZY!'
A sob was caught in her throat as her photographic mind reminded her of that confession. She played it over and over, reliving their hesitant first kiss in the drafting room that had been the harbinger of their relationship. It was the first sign of his attraction to her, the first hint of a potential tenderness that had been all but beaten out of him since he had been a small boy. He had confided to her first, making the first attempt at trust. How could she possibly turn her back on him now with everything that she knew?
'I know that I speak without thinking,' he whispered to her in a soft voice. 'To be honest, I doubt that will ever change. But you'll never be hurt by my hand, Bulma. I can assure you of that at least.'
She reveled in those rare words and straightened her spine. In a stronger voice she concluded, "I'm staying right here. I love him."
"Prove it, woman," a gruff voice said from behind her. A strong hand took her arm and spun her around and she had barely recovered from her shock at Vegeta's abrupt arrival when he crushed his mouth against hers.
For a moment, Bulma surrendered to the passionate kiss but she soon broke it off and pushed him away at arm's length. "We have to talk, Vegeta."
"Later," he said, pulling her towards him.
She broke the hold and retreated into the living room. After a moment of grappling with his temper he followed after her, yelling, "What's the goddamned problem NOW?!"
Turning to face him, Bulma cleared her mind and projected her thoughts: 'Vegeta, do you hear me?'
He betrayed no hint that her mind had made a successful jump to his own. Thinking he was getting the silent treatment for some unknown affront, he snapped, "Stop playing this game, woman! You've never ceased your endless babbling before, don't pick this moment to start!"
"You didn't hear that?" Bulma asked hesitantly. "I tried to pass along a thought to you."
He snorted. "You haven't the ki for the act."
"But I've been receiving yours," she admitted in a small voice.
The expression of skepticism was quickly wiped off of his face. "Not possible."
"But Saiyan's are telepaths, aren't they?"
"With fellow Saiyan's. Only."
She was shaking her head. "When we were both sleeping, I was reliving your memories in my mind. It's happened two nights in a row."
"Silly woman, you were just dreaming-"
"-About a teenaged, blue-eyed, dark skinned girl on a planet you purged," Bulma said in a calm, confident voice. "She said you had no honor and asked if you were Frieza's slave. For some reason you let her live but Zarbon tracked her down and beheaded her-"
She was interrupted by a strangled squawk and saw the look of outraged horror etched in the Saiyan's face. He submerged the look quickly but his eyes were blazing with emotion. "I must have told you that during the V'Nhar," he concluded but only because the thought comforted him.
"Last night I saw your final mission for Frieza. It was on a volcanic world and you were hunting down aliens under the surface. When you damaged the terrain, Radditz was terrified of the consequences until you told him to track down his younger brother-"
"Enough," Vegeta growled in a low cautioning voice.
"He and Nappa raped a female alien." Her bottom lip trembled as she peered into Vegeta's livid face. "And you...you murdered a defenseless little baby!"
Vegeta went strikingly silent in the face of such an accusation and she knew at that point as much as he did that there could be absolutely no more doubt. Somehow, in some way, she had viewed his most private, darkest memories; ones even he didn't like to consider and had thought were forever shut away.
As his silence stretched on, Bulma became anxious for an answer. "How could you do something so terrible?!" she demanded.
"I had my orders," was the only response that he could provide. "At least the brat died quick-"
"How can you justify such an action as that?" she screamed at him, practically in his face.
"There are worse fates then death for a child," Vegeta said in a low voice. "I should know..."
Stopping her tirade in mid-syllable, Bulma forced herself to calm down as she examined his face. There was none of that usual cockiness or arrogance in his hardened features. There was anger, yes, perhaps even a hint of guilt in his raven-colored eyes and lingering in those somber depths was another emotion hovering near their surface that closely resembled pain. "Vegeta..." she hesitated for a moment and finally asked the question that had been bothering her for some time now, even before the revelations his memories had offered. "What did Frieza do to you? I know that he killed your people and destroyed your world. I know that he kept you against your will but I sensed something more in your memories; You were scared of him. Did he beat you?"
"A Saiyan thrives on beatings," he confided to her reluctantly. "It only made me stronger. Frieza knew that."
"Starvation, then?" she pressed, knowing of a Saiyan's voracious appetite and his own reaction when he had let himself get run down.
"He tried," came the only answer.
"What was it?" she asked but he was only shaking his head. "Please, I need to know."
"It's none of your business," he growled, innerved by her constant questions and his own conflicted feelings. "You wouldn't understand-"
"-What's to understand? All I know of you now is that you're a baby-killer, a butcher of worlds! Tell me what it was that twisted you into becoming such an awful thing, Vegeta! What did Frieza do to you? I DESERVE to KNOW!"
"You don't deserve to know ANYTHING!" he hollered back.
Hands on her hips in the ultimate pose of the antagonist, Bulma resolved to win this argument. "There's nothing more you can tell me that can be worse than what I've seen in your mind, Vegeta! I'm past being repulsed. What I saw in you're dreams... you're no better than Frieza!"
"Do not EVER compare me to that CREATURE!" he roared. "We are NOTHING alike!"
"You both killed without remorse! I saw you murder that little baby, there was no compassion in your eyes. What did Frieza do to you that could be worse than what YOU did to that child?"
Clearing the distance between them in three quick strides, Vegeta gripped her by the arms to steady her and glared into her wide eyes. "You really think you've witnessed real horror?" he grated from between clenched teeth. It was not quite a question.
Bulma visibly faltered. "Wha-What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to answer your question." He laid his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, ignoring her cry of violation as his mind clawed it's way into her own. With little tact, he shoved aside her nonessential thoughts and forced his own memory directly into her mind's eye.
In his bed, the little Saiyan prince struggled with sleep as he usually did, curling into a tight compact ball as he coped with his nightmares. He pulled the filthy blankets closer around his trembling frame and was brutally awakened when a hand gripped onto his hair and yanked him forcibly out of the bed.
"Wake up, Chibi no Ouji," a rough voice growled above him, shaking him by the hair like a rag.
"Nappa!" Vegeta screamed, instinctively calling for his burly bodyguard. The bed beside his was empty as if it had never been slept in. He caught sight of his reflection in a broken mirror that hung on the wall of the bunker that the last Saiyan's had been exiled to stay in after Vegetasei's destruction. Revealed in the shattered surface was a boy, maybe nine or ten years old and terrified beyond all reason.
He struggled fiercely under the grip that held him several feet off of the floor until a knotted fist drew back and plowed into his face, breaking his nose and making him see stars. He slumped under the giant's hold semi-conscious and helpless to protest even though he knew where he was being taken.
Carried out of the bunker and through the compound towards the main base, he could plainly hear snickers of amusement at his expense from the soldiers that were milling around, watching the show. No one came to his aid even though they knew what was about to happen.
'Laugh now, you bastards', he vowed, committing every single leering face to memory. 'Someday I'll kill you all and I'll be laughing when I do it.'
The large warrior gave him another rough shake. He was a grotesque, pink spiked behemoth that went by the name of Dodoria. "Snap out of it, twerp. Frieza wants you conscious this time."
"!!NAPPA!!" Vegeta screeched so hard that his throat hurt. All he heard was laughter from the gathering soldiers in the compound.
"He was sent away with that longhaired monkey boy of his," Dodoria scoffed. "You're on your own, runt."
As he was taken through the doors to Frieza's personal chambers, his tail instinctively drew up between his legs and he fought to submerge a whimper of fear. He had taken to sleeping in his Saiyan armor but he knew it wasn't going to help him. He started screaming when he caught sight of Frieza eagerly waiting for him, nude and hugely engorged-
Bulma shrieked at the top of her lungs, immediately breaking the rapport and she thrashed out of his hold and stumbled backwards, falling on her behind. Wrapping her trembling arms around her body, she rocked back and forth as she was lost to great braying sobs brought about by reliving a nightmare that wasn't even hers. She was utterly inconsolable, practically in shock from the brutal force of the terrible vision and it seemed to take forever before the import of the memories faded and she became once more aware of her surroundings.
Vegeta was hunkered down beside her. There was none of that I-told-you-so smugness on his tense features as he watched her very carefully. His intention had been to scare her and it had worked too well. She was in hysterics and had not even witnessed the real horror of Frieza's depravity. His slanted eyes were shadowed in barely hidden grief at her reaction. He had killed people for knowing less of what had been done to him but he could not raise a finger against this frail creature. When it appeared that she was recovering from the brutal rapport he finally said, "Beatings couldn't break me. Neither could starvation. Frieza discovered the one thing that a Saiyan's pride could never tolerate and he used it as my leash." He lowered his voice and confessed to her, "Complete degradation. It became a brutal deterrent against insubordination. I learned that the hard way."
Her face streaked with tears, Bulma's voice hitched unsteadily as she wailed, "Oh! Veh-Vegeta! I'm so SORRY! I-I dih-didn't know!" she extended her arms towards him, imploring him to share the profound sorrow she felt for him. He was actually debating to go to her when a familiar ki intruded on his senses and he got quickly to his feet even before the voice called out:
"I don't know what you've done to her but it ends now, Saiyan."
Yamcha was standing in the doorway of the balcony, with his hands clenched at his sides casting a clear glare of challenge at the smaller alien. "This time it's between you and me."
Marveling at the human's attributes of piss-poor timing and for being overly melodramatic, Vegeta scowled in annoyance at the younger fighter. This was no time for a display of machismo from either of them as Bulma sat helplessly on the living room floor, still in partial shock from what her fragile consciousness had been exposed to and looking at Yamcha like she was witnessing a dream. The Saiyan glanced at her in a strikingly protective manner and then turned on the other fighter with only hate in his black eyes.
"This time you're going to die," Vegeta assured him in a level voice.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter Eighteen: The unresolved confrontation that was interrupted way back in Chapter Three finally gets settled. Yamcha and Vegeta exchange blows and words.
Chapter Seventeen - Poisoned Memories
Bulma didn't put too much thought into Vegeta's odd habit of leaving the bed by mid-morning and moving to the couch. She well remembered his previous training schedule at Capsule Corp. that had him jogging practically before daybreak and she viewed this as a sign that his system was finally free of the alien illness at long last. Misinterpreting his restlessness, she made arrangements with the hotel manager for the gym to be open two hours earlier. At first, the Saiyan wasn't too keen on the idea, still displaying that reluctance to resume his training although he had given her no clear reason for it. He ended up relenting but not for the reasons she thought.
'First lovers are special'. Damned if those four little words didn't echo in the back of his mind and rebound off of the walls he had erected, shaking loose whatever had been encrusted on their surface. He'd always had bad dreams but ever since the debilitating effects of the V'Nhar, nightmares that he hadn't considered for decades were returning with a vengeance. For some reason, Bulma's close proximity and their resultant intimacy only seemed to be making things worse. He would have liked to discuss the situation with Radditz or Nappa but once the fever had left, so had they. He was on his own again, left to suffer in silence. The story of his life.
Prowling the empty gym, he viewed the equipment with a disinterested eye acutely missing the gravity simulator. Bulma and her father had made amends and they were both welcome back to Capsule Corp. but neither made the first move that would finalize the decision to return. For Vegeta, the reason not to go back was simple; he was still monumentally pissed at the old goat. Bulma's reasons were more complex and, with her usual honesty, she had confessed her fears to him late one night.
"If we go back to Capsule Corp. I'll lose you to your training again, won't I?" she had asked in the darkness.
At first he hadn't been willing to answer and eventually muttered out an affirmative. Hearing that, she had held onto him with an almost panicked embrace and whispered into his ear. "That's why I don't want to go back. I'm not an idiot, I know this won't last forever but until you're ready to go, I want to treasure every single minute that I can share with you, Vegeta. I love you so much."
Unable to come up with a response, he feigned sleep then hoping that she would fall for the ruse and just shut the hell up. Eventually she did but not long after he had suffered the worst nightmare to date. Fortunately, she had been too exhausted by their earlier coupling to be roused by his childlike whimpers of terror.
Feeling anxiety settle in between his shoulder blades he decided that exercise might help to ease the tension and added all of the weights he could find to a sturdy barbell that, if placed on its end was taller than he was. He hefted it easily with his right hand and settled on using the bulky thing for a series of one-arm dumbbell rows and shrugs. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw wide-eyed faces pressed up against the window of the locked door watching him heft the barbell with no apparent strain. Word had spread quickly among the staff of his solitary training and despite the early hour of five-thirty there was always some groupie hovering around.
Going through his reps with barely any conscious effort, the Saiyan was interrupted by an urgent tapping on the glass. Some young porter who had been hanging around the last couple of mornings was giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up. Vegeta flipped him off and returned to his own morbid brooding.
Two hours later he was considerably more relaxed with the satisfaction brought about by a good morning of weight training. He spent the remainder of the day going through the motions of his kata out on the balcony, finishing up with handstands and one-armed push-ups on the railing. Observing him from the sidelines, Bulma watched him go through his solitary motions that were a second nature to the skilled Saiyan, marveling at his alien technique and flexibility. Despite the prolonged period of inactivity under the V'Nhar he seemed to be the same outstanding physical specimen he always had been for as long as she had known him, not suffering any atrophying of the muscles. Bulma was immensely turned on from her role as spectator and after a quick supper the pair began making out on the balcony. It began as simple necking but both individuals had worked themselves into such a state of intense passion that Bulma was soon leaning over the railing as he was preparing to take her from behind, neither caring who might be watching them. She was moaning her eagerness when she caught a glimpse of light far to the left and suddenly released a squeal of excitement.
"Shit. I haven't even gotten it in yet-" Vegeta was grumbling behind her.
"Look! Look over there!" Bulma was pointing to the south where a vaguely transparent circular object was poised over the Capital. Fumbling with his zipper, he cast an irritated glance up and recoiled as if struck, betraying a choked gasp of fear.
He was seeing the planet's full moon for the first time.
"Dad told me that the Mayor had wanted a holographic generator made to display the moon phases over the city," Bulma spouted enthusiastically. "Everybody missed it sooo much after Piccolo destroyed it two years ago. I had forgotten how beautiful it was. Isn't it wonderful, Vegeta?...Vegeta?"
She turned and saw that the Saiyan had retreated into the living room. He was staring down at his hands with a mixture of expectation and horror.
"What-what's wrong?" she dared to ask.
He looked up at her, out to the balcony and back down at himself, the tension in his muscles lessening as the reality of the situation became clear. He composed himself with obvious effort and told her, "It's nothing. I just forgot-"
"-That you don't have a tail?" Bulma asked in a quiet voice as she slowly approached him. "You thought you were going to go Oozaru when you were with me, didn't you?"
"It...happened once before," he confided to her as his expression changed to one of disgust.
"I don't understand," she confessed.
Shaking his head, he began to step away from her when she caught his arm and pulled him over to the sofa. He relented for a number of reasons; weariness from the days training, a fervent desire NOT to have her start screaming at him and, perhaps the most plausible, he needed to unburden himself of this terrible memory. Perhaps Bulma could bear listening to it, maybe not, but she deserved some degree of the same truth that she had presented to him and he knew she was the only person he would ever confide in so long as he was on Earth.
"It was a rite of passage," he said at last, unable to so much as glance in her direction. "Nappa and Radditz set it up. I didn't know what those two idiots were planning, I swear it on my fathers crown."
Cold dread settled in the pit of Bulma's stomach at the foreboding to the terse sentences. She knew this wasn't going to be good but Vegeta's confessions were rarer than solar eclipses and telling him to stop was not an option. "I'm listening," she assured him in a steady voice.
Vegeta sighed and looked into her probing eyes with an intensity that chilled her to the bone. "I was in my first heat and my homeworld was gone. I could not turn to a skilled Saiyan concubine so Nappa and Radditz made the arrangements for me. They picked the world, the woman, right down to the time, all I had to do was show up." He drew in a shaky breath and continued, "The coupling had barely commenced when the woman pointed to the window and said, 'I was told to show that to you.' "
"Show you what?" Bulma prompted when he had lapsed into troubled silence.
"The planet had three moons and all were full. The room Nappa arranged was positioned exactly where the three converged together. My transformation to Oozaru was virtually instantaneous. That, combined with my first sexual experience..."
Bulma went deathly pale, as the impact of what he was trying to tell her became brutally clear.
"By the time I regained my senses, the woman was little more than a smear," he finished in a low voice. "I had been only thirteen years old at the time."
His troubled face swam under a veil of tears as Bulma coped with what he had told her. She was only vaguely aware that she was trembling. "Oh... my... god..." she rasped out.
"Nappa and Radditz treated it as a big joke. It was one of those Saiyan traditions among soldiers that nobody talked about. Radditz would do such a thing just for fun when the mood struck him. They had decades of seniority over me, I had no choice but to laugh it off." He ran a trembling hand through his thick hair. "Our talk the other night of first times brought it back for me. I just shrugged it off until I saw that hologram and we were-" He betrayed a shudder and then fell silent looking at her with troubled eyes.
Bulma moved in to embrace him but the time for confessions was over and Vegeta had already betrayed far too much to her already. He could offer her no reason why something that had happened so long ago now bothered him. He only knew that this odd-haired creature was somehow to blame but he discovered that he could not fault her for it. Before he confessed more of himself, he retreated to the bedroom in hopes of at least one night of nightmare-free slumber.
Bulma stayed up for a few more hours trying to watch TV but her mind was not focusing on what was displayed on the large screen. All she could think of was what Vegeta had told her over a week ago in the pool area about the ignorant nature of his traveling companions. He had offered her a bare glimpse of what his life had been like. Each small admittance betrayed a piece of his past that had served to fashion him into the calculating, methodical killer that he had been. Dear Kami, she thought, what else has he endured in his life?
Retiring for the night, she got ready for bed and slid under the covers, pressing herself up close to him and observing his face. He was dreaming again, his eyes were rolling beneath the closed lids and once in awhile his body would give a reflexive twitch. She laid her forehead against his and, just before falling asleep, thought; 'Let me in. You don't have to suffer these dreams alone if you would only let me in.'
And, unknown to either of them, he did.
He squinted at the girl in annoyance when she refused to back down from his advance. She was completely unafraid of him even though the carnage of her family and friends scattered around her was full evidence of his murderous potential. She was maybe a year or two younger than his own sixteen years and Vegeta was at a complete loss as to how to deal with an emotion other than terror.
"Well?" the girl challenged. "I'm alone and defenseless. Get it over with!"
Crossing his arms in that usual brazen stance, the Saiyan continued to observe her as one would a particularly exotic insect. "You're not afraid of me." He couldn't seem to understand it.
Holding her head high, the younger alien stated, "I face my death without fear. There are such things among my people as pride and honor. You wouldn't understand them, murderer. I'll not lower myself and beg for my life to the likes of you."
Vegeta's face flushed with barely restrained rage and he pointed his index and middle fingers at the girl who didn't even flinch at the gesture. "I know what pride and honor is, bitch."
"And you prove it by slaughtering an innocent unarmed people?" She spat down at the ground beside his feet. "You have no comprehension of what you've done to us."
Vegeta's fingers had begun glowing slightly and he abruptly dropped his hand to his side. "My world was destroyed," he admitted. "My people were killed."
"It looks like the explosion missed one of you," the girl sneered.
"I was given to the tyrant responsible for the act."
"So, you're a slave?" the female's dark brown face softened a bit.
Vegeta stiffened at the accusation. "No."
"You stay with him willingly?"
"...No."
She frowned at him in confusion. "Then what else are you?"
He opened his mouth to respond and faltered instead. Without another word he left her among the devastation of the village and shelved the puzzling exchange as he performed a thorough reconnaissance along the northern end of his assigned continent. As far as he could tell by eye and by his scouter, the purging had gone according to plan. After he had some time to figure out his conflicted thoughts, he returned to the village eager for another debate with the lone survivor but she had apparently moved on. Unnerved, he rejoined the cadre assigned to accompany him, commanded by Frieza's new Lieutenant; an over-eager green-skinned pretty boy by the name of Zarbon.
"Any problems?" the elegant male asked pleasantly when Vegeta dropped out of the sky.
Ignoring him, the Saiyan began heading for his pod when Zarbon called out, "Oi! You forgot this, monkey boy!"
Growling at the deliberate insult, Vegeta whirled to confront the alien when he abruptly fumbled with something that had been thrown to him. Turning it over he saw that it was the alien girl's severed head. Her mouth was open in a silent scream and her eyes had rolled condemningly up at his own. The eye color was an odd one he had not noticed before.
They were blue.
"I informed Frieza of your incomplete purge," Zarbon continued in a mocking voice. "He's very disappointed in you. He's waiting in his personal chambers for a thorough briefing of your report."
"I'll just bet he is," Vegeta snarled through clenched teeth and pitched the girl's head over his left shoulder as he continued his walk to the space pod.
It was a little after four in the morning and Bulma was sitting on the couch staring absently at the television as she smoked a cigarette. She was unaware that she was no longer alone until a voice behind her grated out; "You're in my spot."
Flinching in surprise, the cigarette fell from numb fingers and was snatched out of the air. Vegeta regarded it critically for a moment and then put it to his own mouth before Bulma's dumbstruck eyes. "Vegeta?!"
"You humans," he shook his head. "You think you're the first and only culture to ever manufacture such crude diversions." He drew deeply on it for a moment and then handed it back. "As I said, you're sitting in my spot."
Bulma smiled. It was the first time the Saiyan had seen her doing the disgusting habit and hadn't had a fit like the other Z Fighters had. Particularly Yamcha. The tension in her face eased as she said, "There's a good movie on television I've been meaning to see-"
"Now?"
"It won't be on again," she lied. "I don't want to miss it. Do you mind if I stay on the couch? You can join me."
He shook his head. "The gym will be open soon," he said briefly and left to return to the bedroom to get changed. Behind him, Bulma snubbed out her finished smoke and immediately lit another. Her hands were shaking a bit as she struggled with the lighter and her own whirling thoughts.
"It wasn't real. I just had a dream about him. It didn't really happen." she muttered to herself, but the following night it happened again.
This was, without a doubt, their most miserable assignment to date.
The world that they had been sent to 'cleanse' was a young planet, geologically speaking, still restless and hot, seething with uncontrollable volcanic activity and sulfur dioxide geysers. The lava flows ran for hundreds of kilometers, looking like glowing rivers of bloody pus, incinerating all it encountered. The erupting volcanoes belched suffocating ash and carbon dioxide into the grimy atmosphere, transforming the world into an inhospitable sauna where even the merest drop of moisture had been boiled away millennia ago. High above, hydrogen sulfide clouds were twisted into malignant shades of oranges and browns by bitter, shrieking winds that never ceased. Any features on the sparse landscape had been scrubbed clean long ago, transforming the entire planet into one gigantic, barren plain.
One giant behemoth of a humanoid emerged from a curtain of wind-blown cinders dragging a body along either side of him. A thick mane of ebony hair blew back from his pronounced widows' peak and trailed along behind him like a heavy cape. His arms and legs were bare, rippling with thick warrior muscle as he moved. The rest of his body was armored with wide, flaring padding that encircled either shoulder and protectively covered his hips and groin area. To further complete the look of wrongness to the figure was a prehensile tail that encircled his thick waist like a furry belt.
The male threw down the bodies with a grunt and fingered the electronic device that was fastened over his left ear and did a brief examination of his bleak surroundings through the attached eyepiece before speaking out loud; "Radditz here. I've finished my sweep of Gamma sector."
There was a rough crackle of static in response before he heard a coarse voice answer back; "-most through here. Any hostiles?"
"I wouldn't call them hostile by any stretch of the imagination," Radditz growled and kicked at the nearest body in frustration. The toe of his boot punctured the stomach in an explosion of blood and entrails. "I found only two."
Another squeal of static. The warrior almost yanked the scouter off before he went deaf. "What was that, Nappa? You're breaking up. Say again."
"-cking planet! I said, I found a party favor that'll make this bughunt worthwhile. Just wait right -" The other soldiers voice disappeared in a blaze of static before the comlink went dead. This time Radditz did pull off the device and throw it to the ground with a curse. He eyed it morosely for a few moments, his manner almost resembling a sulk before he reluctantly picked it up again. He lowered the volume and tried a different band.
"Radditz to Vegeta. Come in."
The response was instantaneous. "What is it now?" a terse voice said peevishly through weaker static.
Hearing the irritation there, Radditz paused, considering his words carefully. All he could come up with was, "Uhhh ... how're you doing?"
There was a weary grunt on the other end until that voice snapped, "Don't bother me, you moron!" The link was abruptly severed, making the huge warrior wince.
"Fucking runt," he grumbled AFTER he had taken off his scouter and massaged his ringing ear.
"Watch your mouth." A voice snapped from above. "Vegeta has good reason to be pissed."
"You always come in defense of him," Radditz snorted, stepping aside in deference to the even larger warrior who landed beside him, carrying a wrapped bundle in his powerful arms. Fully a head taller than the other man, the Elite soldier known as Nappa leered down at his companion, his brutish features flushed with excitement. A sheen of oily sweat coated his bare pate, adding to the crazed look the man possessed at most times.
"He is our Prince who, need I remind you," Nappa's grin widened even further, "Could turn you inside out with just a thought if he wanted to."
Radditz shrugged off the caution. "The way he's been acting lately it wouldn't surprise me if it happened to us both."
"It's Frieza's fault. He's been riding Vegeta harder than usual."
Radditz snickered cruelly at the poor wording and Nappa deliberately ignored him as he looked out beyond the dust storms to the open plain. Their young Prince had been positively grim the last few weeks even before their employer, Frieza, had sent them to this godforsaken planet. They had been here for over two days expunging the world of some alien squatters before the new tenants moved in; a celestial version of pest control. It was an assignment beneath their abilities and Vegeta's moodiness only intensified the longer it took to complete the job. This should have been a simple sweep-and-purge mission but the harsh climate was working against them and the dense magnetic core of the planet was playing havoc on their scouters. Even more upsetting was the explicit order to leave the surface completely unmarred with absolutely no trace of any ki explosions. The squatters had retreated underground in a labyrinth of tunnels and caves that left the three of them no choice but to chase after them on foot.
Well, that had been the plan at least. Unfortunately the warren of openings they'd found weren't large enough to accommodate either of Radditz's or Nappa's over-sized dimensions and they were forbidden to damage the surface and enlarge them. Enraged, Nappa had charged into a hole and had been stuck like a cork in a bottle for the better part of a day. That left Vegeta, who was far smaller, to hunt the passageways alone and flush the aliens to the surface where the other two could pick them off. He had been at it steadily for the last two days and was now stalking after a particularly elusive handful, his patience eroding by the minute...
Radditz opened his mouth to ask his companion what he had brought when the ground gave one sickening lurch beneath them.
"Uh oh," Nappa managed to get out before there was an explosion several hundred meters away that ripped a fissure into the harsh earth and tapped into a underground stream of molten lava, spewing the acrid contents into the twisting clouds. Two more explosions peppered the landscape, each one larger than before and finally, one more followed that dwarfed its predecessors with its violence. The entire planet gave one compulsive shudder with the savage force of the blast. Both warriors threw up a desperate shield of protection around themselves as steaming magma, rubble and scattered body parts rained down upon them in putrid streamers.
Radditz lowered his shield and saw the complete ruination to a plain they had been forbidden to damage in any way. "Oh shit. We are screwed! Frieza's gonna have our tails for this! LITERALLY!!"
"Oh, shut up!" Nappa barked at him and the younger man went silent, quaking in his boots. With deceptive calm, the bald soldier cast a shrewd glance out towards the devastation and saw a lone figure approach them, his small frame still smoldering from the energies of his release. "Vegeta!" he called.
Ignoring the greeting, the figure emerged from the grimy smoke and then stopped to look around. His uniform was completely different then his companions, with a dark blue battle suit beneath his armor and orange gloves and boots. In the odd lighting of the world his flame styled hair had an auburn sheen that was not unattractive. His feral eyes possessed an ebon regard of dark cruelty and ancient hatred, devoid of compassion or sincerity. Behind him his tail lashed furiously from side to side, the short hairs erect and puffing the appendage out to twice its normal size.
There was a plaintive wail from nearby where an infant had been thrown clear of one of the explosions. Following the sound, Vegeta found it lying in a shallow trench, miraculously unhurt, its small limbs flailing in distress. Without expression, the Prince brought his boot down squarely on the babe's face, shattering its skull and deliberately twisting his heel in the remains.
"Fucking brat," he hissed. He stepped away and dragged his foot along the dirt to clean it of the brain matter before he joined up with the two others. "We're finished here," he announced. "That swarm was the last of them."
"Oh, we're finished all right," Radditz rasped. "You knew our orders. You just signed our death-warrants!"
"We were never meant to succeed in this mission," Vegeta grumbled, eyeing one of the bodies that the third-class warrior had dragged over. The race was vaguely humanoid with thick-shelled bodies and over-large hands for burrowing purposes in this harsh climate. "This world is destined to be a dumping ground for garbage, not people."
"Then why all the fuss not to damage it?" Nappa asked with his usual ignorance, blinking at the infuriated looks the other two Saiyan's flashed him. "Oooh! Frieza's just looking for an excuse to punish us!"
"Our entertainment value has diminished considerably, particularly mine," Vegeta told them. "If we go back now, Frieza will kill me. I've no doubt of that."
"Without you, we wouldn't last an hour!" Radditz spat out, knowing full well just how many times their Prince had leapt to their defense against their employers wrath when the two soldiers fouled up an assignment (which happened quite regularly).
The smaller Saiyan gave one curt nod in agreement. Nappa instantly recognized that pensive expression on his young charge's face and asked, "What's your plan, Vegeta?"
"Radditz, you've mentioned a younger brother that was sent off of Vegetasei before its destruction-"
"-Kakarrot, yeah," The large warrior grunted.
Vegeta nodded. "I want you to track him down. The time to challenge Frieza is coming quickly and another Saiyan ally would be useful, even a weak one of third class. Understand?"
Radditz faltered. "You want me to go NOW?!"
Before Vegeta could snarl out an affirmative, Nappa blurted out, "Have I got a farewell present for you!" He unwrapped the bundle he had been carrying to expose a barely conscious female native. "I'll even let you have the first crack at 'er!"
His rough features contorted into an expression of lust and cruelty, Radditz unfurled his tail and began to loosen the straps of his codpiece. He cast an inquiring glance at Vegeta who was eyeing the woman with mixed emotions in his dark eyes. "Do you want to break her first, my prince?"
Vegeta's top lip curled into a feral sneer. "I'll pass. I've got strategizing to do," he said briefly and stalked a short distance away. Behind him Nappa and Radditz eagerly pounced on the terrified female and the harsh climate was split apart by their labored grunts and her own wails of agony.
Bulma sat up with a scream behind her lips and cast a wide-eyed terrified look to the creature that was sharing her bed. Vegeta appeared to be unfazed by the violence of his dream, his sleeping features actually calmer then usual. There could be no doubt, now. Somehow, for some reason, a bridge had been created between their two minds that was allowing her to catch glimpses of his memory when he was asleep and his usual guards were down. Being such close companions for so long a time to the other two Saiyans, Vegeta actually dreamt of their varied perspectives, no doubt a result of some intermingled rapport. It made this vision all the more terrifying because she was seeing it from all of their different viewpoints. She had figured that his past had been brutal but, dear Kami, nothing like THIS! She had never wanted to see that he was-
'-Darkness. I'm evil. If you didn't like it, you wouldn't be here with me,' he rasped into her mind and her stomach gave one sickening lurch. She got out of bed and ran to the bathroom with her hand over her mouth. She barely made it to the toilet before she vomited and dry-heaved until she saw stars. Laying her spinning head on the rim of the porcelain she barely heard Vegeta yelling at her to keep it down.
For no good reason that Vegeta could fathom, Bulma was withdrawn and moody the following day. The Saiyan didn't question his good fortune to be spared her eternal questioning but his senses were detecting a hidden tension beneath the few clipped words that the woman offered him. Conflicted by his own feelings of irritation and confusion, he took it as an opportunity to leave the hotel and take to the air.
He parted the heavy clouds above the Capital like an arrow and swiftly sped away, increasing his speed until the wind was screaming in his ears and his hair was plastered to the back of his neck. Being catered to in the hotel had been a pleasant diversion but he had missed the sensation of flight and the escape it provided him.
His half-closed eyes widened suddenly. Escape? It was a poor word to use to describe what he was feeling. He wasn't running from anything. For perhaps the first time in his life he was exercising a freedom that had been too long denied him and reveling in the singular pleasure of simply being alive. Frieza was dead and no longer able to torment him. He didn't have to bear Nappa and Radditz's low-browed presence's anymore. The dark knowledge of his destiny revealed at Kami's Lookout was accepted at long last. Even if it were true and he had only a mere decade to live, he was free to make his own decisions and decide on the course of his own life up until that dreaded moment. Lingering in the background of all of these thoughts was a fair skinned beauty with sea-foamed colored hair that had helped to shoulder his burden without a price, save that of her heart.
He burst through dark clouds into dazzling sunlight and extinguished his ki to experience freefall, performing a series of nimble rolls and dives. Scarcely before impact with the ground, Vegeta powered up again and blasted off, laughing maniacally.
Keeping his own personal ki at a minimum, Piccolo observed the Saiyan's actions from a safe distance. He had been continuing his vigil ever since Dr. Briefs had assembled the Z Fighters and told them that Vegeta was fine and the search had just been a false alarm. Sensing the tension in the old man's form, he had lingered behind as the others scattered and waited for the truth, not assured by the information confided to him. During the days of Vegeta's delirium, the Namek hovered outside on the balcony of Bulma's hotel room, ready to intervene if the Saiyan attempted to bolt. After his recovery, the Namek retreated to the roof of a nearby building. He expected Vegeta to sense him easily for all of the hours he'd spent sitting on the railing but it was clear the alien was distracted and not fully himself. Despite the distance of his perch, Piccolo witnessed far more than he ever wanted as the closeness between Bulma and Vegeta became uncomfortably evident. Not accustomed to playing the voyeur, the Namek's own sensitive hearing betrayed him even when he kept his eyes averted and his cheeks had been a dark emerald of discomfort more times than he wanted to count. Trunks' premonition of passion between the well-matched pair had finally come true cinching their intermingled destiny but Piccolo wasn't willing to let his vigil go. Not yet...
When he had just witnessed the Saiyan's plummet to earth he had been about to intervene, fearing another suicidal attempt. After all of his time of silence, Kami picked this moment to intrude on his thoughts. The elder Namek told him to stay his place and Piccolo could hardly believe it as Vegeta playfully powered up at the last possible minute and sped away, laughing out loud.
"He's alright," Piccolo rumbled contentedly, his grim visage not betraying the true relief that he felt.
'It's more than that,' Kami assured him with a smug tone. 'He's actually happy.'
Nodding to himself, Piccolo glanced at the fading energy trail and concluded that his role of guardian was finally over. He turned his back and finally returned to Son Gokou's home to resume his training at long last. He was oblivious that another pair of eyes took note of his departure with acute relief.
Despite the unease that she now felt towards the Saiyan, Bulma found herself standing out on the balcony as the hour rolled to around midnight and he still hadn't returned from wherever he had gone. A part of her worried that perhaps the rapport had been twofold and he had been as privy to her thoughts as she appeared to be to his own. After a thorough self-searching, she concluded that there was nothing in her mind that could possibly offend him and his actions before leaving had betrayed no such knowledge. That earlier resolve of sticking to the Saiyan regardless of his past was flagging under the knowledge of her new insight. Both Yamcha and her father had called Vegeta a butcher and that was exactly what he was. But...
'Bulma, I am...lost.'
She shivered and blamed it on the cool night air. Casting an urgent look skywards, the stars were blurred by her remorseful tears. In her mind's eye she watched Vegeta crush a defenseless baby's skull, his face twisted into a rictus of rage and hate. There was none of the fading of details that usually came with reliving a dream and she could tell the distinction between the two. This was the reality, this had actually happened. This was the true legacy of the Saiyan's dark past; endless violence and merciless death.
'I'll end up either driving you away or killing you. That's how this game is played. That's how it's always been,' he assured her.
"No...NO!" Bulma wailed, choking back a sob. "That was before Namek, before he died and was brought back. He's different now!"
'I get up in the morning-I leave the simulator-Everywhere I turn- YOU'RE THERE! Now I can't even sleep at night without you intruding in my dreams. You. Are. Driving. Me. CRAZY!'
A sob was caught in her throat as her photographic mind reminded her of that confession. She played it over and over, reliving their hesitant first kiss in the drafting room that had been the harbinger of their relationship. It was the first sign of his attraction to her, the first hint of a potential tenderness that had been all but beaten out of him since he had been a small boy. He had confided to her first, making the first attempt at trust. How could she possibly turn her back on him now with everything that she knew?
'I know that I speak without thinking,' he whispered to her in a soft voice. 'To be honest, I doubt that will ever change. But you'll never be hurt by my hand, Bulma. I can assure you of that at least.'
She reveled in those rare words and straightened her spine. In a stronger voice she concluded, "I'm staying right here. I love him."
"Prove it, woman," a gruff voice said from behind her. A strong hand took her arm and spun her around and she had barely recovered from her shock at Vegeta's abrupt arrival when he crushed his mouth against hers.
For a moment, Bulma surrendered to the passionate kiss but she soon broke it off and pushed him away at arm's length. "We have to talk, Vegeta."
"Later," he said, pulling her towards him.
She broke the hold and retreated into the living room. After a moment of grappling with his temper he followed after her, yelling, "What's the goddamned problem NOW?!"
Turning to face him, Bulma cleared her mind and projected her thoughts: 'Vegeta, do you hear me?'
He betrayed no hint that her mind had made a successful jump to his own. Thinking he was getting the silent treatment for some unknown affront, he snapped, "Stop playing this game, woman! You've never ceased your endless babbling before, don't pick this moment to start!"
"You didn't hear that?" Bulma asked hesitantly. "I tried to pass along a thought to you."
He snorted. "You haven't the ki for the act."
"But I've been receiving yours," she admitted in a small voice.
The expression of skepticism was quickly wiped off of his face. "Not possible."
"But Saiyan's are telepaths, aren't they?"
"With fellow Saiyan's. Only."
She was shaking her head. "When we were both sleeping, I was reliving your memories in my mind. It's happened two nights in a row."
"Silly woman, you were just dreaming-"
"-About a teenaged, blue-eyed, dark skinned girl on a planet you purged," Bulma said in a calm, confident voice. "She said you had no honor and asked if you were Frieza's slave. For some reason you let her live but Zarbon tracked her down and beheaded her-"
She was interrupted by a strangled squawk and saw the look of outraged horror etched in the Saiyan's face. He submerged the look quickly but his eyes were blazing with emotion. "I must have told you that during the V'Nhar," he concluded but only because the thought comforted him.
"Last night I saw your final mission for Frieza. It was on a volcanic world and you were hunting down aliens under the surface. When you damaged the terrain, Radditz was terrified of the consequences until you told him to track down his younger brother-"
"Enough," Vegeta growled in a low cautioning voice.
"He and Nappa raped a female alien." Her bottom lip trembled as she peered into Vegeta's livid face. "And you...you murdered a defenseless little baby!"
Vegeta went strikingly silent in the face of such an accusation and she knew at that point as much as he did that there could be absolutely no more doubt. Somehow, in some way, she had viewed his most private, darkest memories; ones even he didn't like to consider and had thought were forever shut away.
As his silence stretched on, Bulma became anxious for an answer. "How could you do something so terrible?!" she demanded.
"I had my orders," was the only response that he could provide. "At least the brat died quick-"
"How can you justify such an action as that?" she screamed at him, practically in his face.
"There are worse fates then death for a child," Vegeta said in a low voice. "I should know..."
Stopping her tirade in mid-syllable, Bulma forced herself to calm down as she examined his face. There was none of that usual cockiness or arrogance in his hardened features. There was anger, yes, perhaps even a hint of guilt in his raven-colored eyes and lingering in those somber depths was another emotion hovering near their surface that closely resembled pain. "Vegeta..." she hesitated for a moment and finally asked the question that had been bothering her for some time now, even before the revelations his memories had offered. "What did Frieza do to you? I know that he killed your people and destroyed your world. I know that he kept you against your will but I sensed something more in your memories; You were scared of him. Did he beat you?"
"A Saiyan thrives on beatings," he confided to her reluctantly. "It only made me stronger. Frieza knew that."
"Starvation, then?" she pressed, knowing of a Saiyan's voracious appetite and his own reaction when he had let himself get run down.
"He tried," came the only answer.
"What was it?" she asked but he was only shaking his head. "Please, I need to know."
"It's none of your business," he growled, innerved by her constant questions and his own conflicted feelings. "You wouldn't understand-"
"-What's to understand? All I know of you now is that you're a baby-killer, a butcher of worlds! Tell me what it was that twisted you into becoming such an awful thing, Vegeta! What did Frieza do to you? I DESERVE to KNOW!"
"You don't deserve to know ANYTHING!" he hollered back.
Hands on her hips in the ultimate pose of the antagonist, Bulma resolved to win this argument. "There's nothing more you can tell me that can be worse than what I've seen in your mind, Vegeta! I'm past being repulsed. What I saw in you're dreams... you're no better than Frieza!"
"Do not EVER compare me to that CREATURE!" he roared. "We are NOTHING alike!"
"You both killed without remorse! I saw you murder that little baby, there was no compassion in your eyes. What did Frieza do to you that could be worse than what YOU did to that child?"
Clearing the distance between them in three quick strides, Vegeta gripped her by the arms to steady her and glared into her wide eyes. "You really think you've witnessed real horror?" he grated from between clenched teeth. It was not quite a question.
Bulma visibly faltered. "Wha-What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to answer your question." He laid his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, ignoring her cry of violation as his mind clawed it's way into her own. With little tact, he shoved aside her nonessential thoughts and forced his own memory directly into her mind's eye.
In his bed, the little Saiyan prince struggled with sleep as he usually did, curling into a tight compact ball as he coped with his nightmares. He pulled the filthy blankets closer around his trembling frame and was brutally awakened when a hand gripped onto his hair and yanked him forcibly out of the bed.
"Wake up, Chibi no Ouji," a rough voice growled above him, shaking him by the hair like a rag.
"Nappa!" Vegeta screamed, instinctively calling for his burly bodyguard. The bed beside his was empty as if it had never been slept in. He caught sight of his reflection in a broken mirror that hung on the wall of the bunker that the last Saiyan's had been exiled to stay in after Vegetasei's destruction. Revealed in the shattered surface was a boy, maybe nine or ten years old and terrified beyond all reason.
He struggled fiercely under the grip that held him several feet off of the floor until a knotted fist drew back and plowed into his face, breaking his nose and making him see stars. He slumped under the giant's hold semi-conscious and helpless to protest even though he knew where he was being taken.
Carried out of the bunker and through the compound towards the main base, he could plainly hear snickers of amusement at his expense from the soldiers that were milling around, watching the show. No one came to his aid even though they knew what was about to happen.
'Laugh now, you bastards', he vowed, committing every single leering face to memory. 'Someday I'll kill you all and I'll be laughing when I do it.'
The large warrior gave him another rough shake. He was a grotesque, pink spiked behemoth that went by the name of Dodoria. "Snap out of it, twerp. Frieza wants you conscious this time."
"!!NAPPA!!" Vegeta screeched so hard that his throat hurt. All he heard was laughter from the gathering soldiers in the compound.
"He was sent away with that longhaired monkey boy of his," Dodoria scoffed. "You're on your own, runt."
As he was taken through the doors to Frieza's personal chambers, his tail instinctively drew up between his legs and he fought to submerge a whimper of fear. He had taken to sleeping in his Saiyan armor but he knew it wasn't going to help him. He started screaming when he caught sight of Frieza eagerly waiting for him, nude and hugely engorged-
Bulma shrieked at the top of her lungs, immediately breaking the rapport and she thrashed out of his hold and stumbled backwards, falling on her behind. Wrapping her trembling arms around her body, she rocked back and forth as she was lost to great braying sobs brought about by reliving a nightmare that wasn't even hers. She was utterly inconsolable, practically in shock from the brutal force of the terrible vision and it seemed to take forever before the import of the memories faded and she became once more aware of her surroundings.
Vegeta was hunkered down beside her. There was none of that I-told-you-so smugness on his tense features as he watched her very carefully. His intention had been to scare her and it had worked too well. She was in hysterics and had not even witnessed the real horror of Frieza's depravity. His slanted eyes were shadowed in barely hidden grief at her reaction. He had killed people for knowing less of what had been done to him but he could not raise a finger against this frail creature. When it appeared that she was recovering from the brutal rapport he finally said, "Beatings couldn't break me. Neither could starvation. Frieza discovered the one thing that a Saiyan's pride could never tolerate and he used it as my leash." He lowered his voice and confessed to her, "Complete degradation. It became a brutal deterrent against insubordination. I learned that the hard way."
Her face streaked with tears, Bulma's voice hitched unsteadily as she wailed, "Oh! Veh-Vegeta! I'm so SORRY! I-I dih-didn't know!" she extended her arms towards him, imploring him to share the profound sorrow she felt for him. He was actually debating to go to her when a familiar ki intruded on his senses and he got quickly to his feet even before the voice called out:
"I don't know what you've done to her but it ends now, Saiyan."
Yamcha was standing in the doorway of the balcony, with his hands clenched at his sides casting a clear glare of challenge at the smaller alien. "This time it's between you and me."
Marveling at the human's attributes of piss-poor timing and for being overly melodramatic, Vegeta scowled in annoyance at the younger fighter. This was no time for a display of machismo from either of them as Bulma sat helplessly on the living room floor, still in partial shock from what her fragile consciousness had been exposed to and looking at Yamcha like she was witnessing a dream. The Saiyan glanced at her in a strikingly protective manner and then turned on the other fighter with only hate in his black eyes.
"This time you're going to die," Vegeta assured him in a level voice.
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Chapter Eighteen: The unresolved confrontation that was interrupted way back in Chapter Three finally gets settled. Yamcha and Vegeta exchange blows and words.
