Chapter 52: Where is the Hope, now?
AN: Meh, I had a busy weekend. What can I say. Enjoy the chapter!
~J.J
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Bulma stepped away from the circuit board. She wiped a loose strand of hair from her eyes and glared down at the few remaining wires.
So far, she had returned most of the loose wires to their proper place. Fixing the cabin of the ship was the first and most important of the repairs. It didn't matter how bad the damage outside of the ship was, if the main controlroom wasn't opperating, then nothing would.
She had been working for hours on end, and hadn't realized how truly exhausted she was before her legs trembled beneath her. She wanted to keep working, wanted to get out of her predicament as quickly as she could, but she knew that if she didn't allow herself rest then she could overexhaust herself. She turned from the circuit board and walked over to Spider and Ghost, making her way through the dark interior of the cabin. Bulma had never been afraid of the dark before, but floating out in the middle of space without any lights on was terribly unsettling. Space had a darkness to it that defied any shadows she had ever seen. It seemed to swallow everything up. She stood staring out the window at the thousands of blinking stars before continuing toward her furry friends.
Spider had stopped bleeding, which meant that he was going to live. There was no telling how quickly or slowly the wound would heal, however, and Bulma knew she had to be careful. She wished now that she had asked Strifelon more about the Roctorn's as a species. If she had, she might have been able to help Spider more efficiently. She sighed and sat down beside him, pushing his water bowl closer. When she had found the fist aid kit, she had also brought up some blankets, food, and Ghost and Spider's water dishes. Ghost had drank heartily, but Spider had turned his head away. This worried Bulma.
"You have to drink something, boy." she said softly. "Please?"
Spider's eyes closed. His chest shuddered as he took in an obviously painful breath. Bulma's forehead creased as she scrunched up her face and tried not to cry. She could see a fresh stain of blood spredding across the bandage, seeping through. He had recovered from his beating from Tajil when he had attacked her down in The Dungeons. It hadn't taken him long. However, this wound was different. It was internal, rather than external, and very deep.
Bulma needed more bandages.
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Chi-Chi gasped in surprise as Goku bolted upright out of bed. A sheen of sweat on his forehead shone in the moonlight coming in from the window. He looked terribly unsettled. Chi-Chi put a hand on his forearm and gently squeezed it.
"Goku?" she prompted him.
He wiped a hand across his face and glared softly, seemingly struggling with some internal concentration. "Something's wrong." He said.
His demeanor was so unlike him that Chi-Chi felt her heart fluttering. Her first thought was that something had happened to Bulma; a day hadn't gone by that she hadn't thought about her best friend.
"What do you feel?" She asked softly, trying to keep the terror from her voice. "What is it?"
"Vegeta." Goku said, his voice worried. "I can't sense his ki."
Chi-Chi's eyes went wide, but she was confused. "What do you mean?"
"Everyone has a Ki, Chi-Chi." Goku said absently, rising from the bed. He began to pace around, his hands fists at his side. "I can always sense them. . . the Ki of those around me. It's something a Sayajin can do."
Chi-Chi had heard Goku explain this to her before. She put her hands in her lap and forced them together, watching her husband as he paced. "What does it mean, then?"
Goku stopped. "It means. . . that something has happened to Vegeta. He's. . . he's gone."
"What?" Chi-Chi bolted out of bed. "Are you sure? But that. . . that can't be right! How could Vegeta have died? What's happened to Bulma, then?" she heard the panic rising in her voice. "What the hell is Bulma going to do without Vegeta to protect her now?"
"I don't know." Goku ran a hand through his hair. He paused and sighed. "He should have let me come."
Chi-Chi was thinking fast. "Whatever happened to Vegeta. . . means that Bulma is alone now. They were probably on the ship, weren't they? So that means. . . we could wish Vegeta back with the Dragonballs, but then what would we do about Bulma?"
"Vegeta would appear on Earth. Not where he died." Goku reminded her.
"Would. . . would the Dragon let us wish Bulma back to Earth?" Chi-Chi asked him.
Goku looked over at her, pain in his features. "I don't know, Chi-Chi. He might not."
Chi-Chi felt tears welling in her eyes. This wasn't supposed to happen! Everything was just supposed to work out for them. They were supposed to be back weeks ago. What had happened to Vegeta? Was Bulma still alive? One thing was for sure.
"Goku," Chi-Chi grabbed hold of his arm. "We have to get the Dragonballs."
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Vegeta opened his eyes.
Was he dead?
Had he been born again?
He gasped, nearly choking on a mouthful of strange, dark blue liquid. He reached for his throat and his eyes bulged as he drew in the liquid like oxygen. His body tensed and he shuddered in confused, sweet torture as he realized that he was breathing solid liquid. He was lying facedown in it, and for a moment he lashed out with his legs out of instinct and brief panic, only to be hit with another startling discovery.
He wasn't sinking. Whatever he was lying on was solid.
Vegeta's brows came together in a confused glare. When he moved, his gloved hands sunk deeply into the liquid, but when he applied strength to move himself into a standing position, they held, and he pushed himself upright. He straightened on unsteady legs, and took in the strange and wonderous place around him.
If he had indeed died, this was not Hell.
The sky above him, if it could be called a sky, was an endless, pitch black void of glittering stars. It moved and shifted with the same texture as a bowl of slowly stirred syrup, although the stars did not move with it. He felt nauseaus looking at it, and for a moment his arms shot out to steady him, before he decided to take to the air.
The air was thick around him, and he felt uneasy to breathe it. Was it air? Where was he? The ground beneath his feet was the strange blue liquid he had been lying in. It too shifted and moved with the same slow, continuous river of travel. Dark shapes moved within its depths. The sky seemed low upon him, stretched on forever on all sides of him. Vegeta turned in the air, staring in annoyed wonderment as he realized that where ever he was did not have a beginning, or an end. It simply went on forever.
"Eternity." a female voice said softly.
Vegeta whipped around, startled. Before him, a figure began to take shape. The air shimmered around him, and he felt the hairs stand out on his arms as an impossibly beautiful face seemed to push and stretch against the very air, until at last, it 'popped' through and settled into the space around him. It was a woman, and in that very moment, Vegeta was not foolish enough to make the mistake of assuming her human.
She was. . . something different.
Cascades of black hair swam from her scalp, always moving, seeming to flow, but never growing longer. She was wrapped in a simple white cloak, her body upright as she floated before him. Her face was gorgeous, beyond beautiful, and smiled at him with a curious wonder. Her body twisted and shifted in the air, her eyes two glittering black orbs, devoid of pupils. Her mouth opened, and it was simply a dark red hole. She spoke.
"Why do you come?" her voice made Vegeta's skin crawl. Muscial, it floated and echoed across the vast endlessness of the void. She turned her head to look at him with a sideways glance. Her skin shimmered with a dark blue streak that crossed her features like spilled paint. She had not stopped smiling.
"Is this a dream?" Vegeta asked cautiously.
The woman turned again, her eyes glittering strangely. "No." She said, and her sudden smile dissipated from her face. A frown melted upon it. "You are not dreaming, Vegeta."
"How do you know who I am?" Vegeta growled. Anger and defense screamed at him to power up, while instinct told him calmly to listen.
She lifted her hands through the air, and Vegeta felt a wave of low humming rush past his ears as she did. Her frown increased, but he could see carefully hidden curiosity behind it. "I have brought you here. It is of. . . great importance." she put emphasis on the word, her musical tone changing to a definite chord of authority and wisdom.
Vegeta glared. What was she talking about? Who was she? Where the hell was he?
"Where is Bulma?" He growled suddenly. "I demand that you tell me what is going on!"
Her face shifted to sad again. "In due time, Prince." she said softly, and Vegeta swore he could hear children crying on the wind of her voice. "In due time."
"TELL ME!" He roared, suddenly frightened. Something was wrong. He could feel it. He felt panic swell within his chest. Where was Bulma? Why had this. . . thing brought him here?
She appraised him for a moment before speaking. "You are dead, Vegeta. You are neither in Heaven, nor in Hell. You are not between the two. You are here only because I have brought you. I have brought you because it was needed. I made the choice. I intervened."
"Intervened!" Vegeta snarled, moving forward. "Stop talking in riddles!"
Her mouth turned down dramatically. "You have much anger within you." she paused. "It is of great importance that you stay here."
"Stay? I'm not staying anywhere!" Vegeta roared. In his sudden raging panic, he brought his hand before him and fired a ki blast at the woman. The blast roared from his palm with intense, flaming fury at shot straight at the woman. Vegeta gaped, open-mouthed as it passed completely through her, merely causing a slight shimmer. Her waves of hair settled around her quietly, and she silently stared at him.
"That which brings you death is useless to you here." She said softly, an obsidian tear rolling down her cheek. "I am sad, but it is of great importance, Vegeta. I intervened to save you. I intervened to show you. I will show you, and you will understand. If you do not, you will never again exist. You must see."
Vegeta fell to the floor, his knees falling into the liquid. He stared down at his hand in disbelief, and then back up at the woman. Her tear fell to the liquid, and caused a ripple of a black wave to wash over Vegeta's knees. He felt nothing. The liquid was neither wet, nor dry. It was cold.
He was cold.
He lifted his head, his voice hoarse. "What have you done?"
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Bulma's eyes flickered open. She had fallen asleep. She sat up, rubbing at her eyes. How many hours had passed? There was no way of telling.
For a moment, she thought that perhaps she was not yet awake, because of the strange beeping noise she heard in the back of her mind. She mumbled, turning over against Spider, groaning at the noise. She was so tired. She just wanted to go back to. . .
Bulma shot upright. Beeping noise?
Staggering to her feet, Bulma raced for the control pannel. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked down and saw the radar screen flashing, indicating another ship. Bulma's hands came up to her mouth, her fingers shaking. The ship was large, but not much bigger than her own. She couldn't tell much from the model, but they were only a few miles away. The communication screen flickered to life, and Bulma watched, her face green in the glow of the screens, as a blury image came into view.
It was a figure. She could not tell if it was human, male or female. So bad was the damage that the communication screen still didn't register properly. But there was a face. She was not alone. There was another ship. She wouldn't die out here.
Her heart racing, Bulma listened to the disfigured, detached voice. "Identify yourself." she strained, trying to make out if the voice sounded masculine or feminen. She couldn't tell. Her hand trembling, she reached down and flicked on her side of the communication screen. Now they would be able to see her face. She wondered if their view of her would be as blury as her own.
"B-bulma Breifs. H-human." she finally made herself say. "Female. First class."
"State your status." the disfigured voice replied.
Now her normality began to return to her. She could feel an odd excitment mixing with a growing sense of unease. "Injured. My ship is badly in need of repairs." she paused. "Running low on fuel."
The voice was a long time in coming. "State your crew."
Bulma closed her eyes, her finger shaking violently on the button. She clicked it down with a great effort.
"No crew." she whispered. She wouldn't tell them about Vegeta, or about Spider and Ghost. The possibilites of them helping her were already slim. If they knew she had alien creatures aboard with her, there was a good chance they would turn around.
"State any infectious diseases." the voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Bulma found a small smile sneaking onto her face as she realized she could proudly reply that she had none.
"None. Health is top notch, save for a few injuries." she said clearly.
She did not want to tell them about the baby. She didn't know these people. She didn't know how many of them there were, or what they were, or what they would do. She wondered briefly if perhaps she shouldn't have sounded so eager. These could very well be the wrong people to be 'saved' by. Her mouth felt dry. Yet, she had no other choice. She had estimated the amount of damage to the ship. She could not to the repairs herself, and the HOME communicater, leading to her father's main base, was not opperating. These might very well be the only people she would run into. For days. Weeks. Months.
She didn't have that long.
Heart racing, Bulma waited for a reply.
"We will commence resque." The voice said after a moment. "Please prepare to lock and engage your thrusters. Buckle yourself in."
Bulma's breath was coming raggedly now. "There -are- no thrusters." she said into the communicater. "Resque will have to commence---"
She didn't get a chance to say anything more as a jolt jarred her off her feet. She stumbled and swung out with her good hand, grabbing her seat to steady herself. Her feet were swept from under her and she held on to the chair with her one hand, fighting to stay upright. Spider growled from where he lay, his eyes wide and confused. Bulma righted herself, and swung into her seat, and strapped her seatbelts on. They could have given her more warning! She'd been right in the middle of a sentence!
Spider's claws dug into the floor of the ship and he tried to stand up. Ghost scurried off into a dark corner, chirping wildly. "Spider, STAY!" Bulma said loudly over her shoulder to him. She didn't want him getting up, just yet. It might take them a while to get to her. He needed all the rest he could get, although she didn't think with the sudden excitment that he would be sleeping. Mewling deep in his throat, Spider grudgingly lay back down.
Bulma held on to her seat for dear life, memories of the present day (had a day even gone by?) flowing freely and painfully through her mind. She could not deny that she was terrified. What had she gotten herself into? Who were these people? She hadn't thought to ask them anything about themselves. She could very well be resqued by a renegade group of bounty hunters, pirates, or murdering scumbags.
One last, violent jolt rocked her in her seat, and then all was silent. She was still wondering how exactly their ship had reached hers so quickly. She held her breath and waited, wondering if she should get out of her seat, just yet. She looked over her shoulder at Spider, who was getting up, wether or not she wanted him to. He limped over to her and protectively laid his head on her shoulder. Bulma touched his neck gratefully. "Good boy." She said softly. Together they stared ahead, Spider panting and Bulma shaking, waiting for whatever it was that would happen.
Bulma squeeled in surprise as she heard a loud, shuddering clanking noise. They had released their thrusters and attached themselves to the side of her ship. She wondered, frantically, if the ship would hold under the sudden pressure. She could hear airlocks escaping in screams of steam, and she knew they must have released their transport tube. Most definetely, one of the crew members would be making the walk in a suit toward her ship's main airlock door right now. Her fingers gripped the seat tighter.
Spider began to make a low, keening sound deep in his throat. His eyes had narrowed, and his tails lashed around agitatedly behind him. "What's wrong, boy?" Bulma asked, rubbing his neck in a comforting manner. No doubt the big Roctorn was frightened by the sudden change of events.
Yet. . .
Something about Spider's behavior was unsettling. He looked almost. . . anxious, as though he found something familiar about the situation. His massive nostrils sniffed the air delicately, and Bulma watched, confused, as his tails began to wag back and forth. He pawed the ground and lowered his head, looking out from under his furrowed brows. The keening noise altered in pitch, turned almost happy, and then lowered again to frightened. Bulma could not understand what was wrong with her friend. She wanted to pass it off as simple animal behavior, but it was making her nervous.
Then, with a hiss of compressed air, the door to her ship opened. She could hear someone moving slowly into the corridor, and out of the transport tube.
"Hello! I'm in here!" Bulma called. She undid the buckles to her seatbelt and tried desperately not to think of what the person. . . or thing waiting for her looked like. "I'm in the Cabin!"
Her buckles came apart with a soft click, and Bulma rose from her seat. She could hear the person moving toward her through the hallway. Her fingers wove together like knots. Her heart hammered in her chest.
Then, things took a turn for the worse.
Spider lowered his head to the ground, planted his feet apart, and began to make an awful, violent growling noise. Bulma had little time to contemplate his sudden change in behavior before she felt a rush of air past her ear, and then felt two strong, muscled arms come around her throat. She screamed, before one gloved hand covered her mouth in an attempt to quiet her, smothering her cry. She heard a brief scuffle, a growl from Spider, and then silence. Something fell hard to the ground. She kicked out, but a hard, rigid body pressed up against hers and stopped her useless flailing instantly. Panic flared up in Bulma. She could hardly move.
Then she was thrown over the shoulder of her captor like a potato sack, carelessly. She struggled again, but strong hands held her tight. She screamed inwardly at herself. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! She shouldn't have returned their call. She should have just ignored them. She should have waited. Waited a bit more. Should have been more careful!
She thought she would scream when her captor released his hand from her mouth, but instead, only tears came. She sobbed uselessly as she was carried down the hallway and into the dark transport tube. She shivered against the sudden cold, and wondered what not wearing a proper spacesuit was doing to her body.
Where was her Hope now?
She tried to get a look at her captor, but it was too dark to see anything properly. The only thing she could make out in the bad light was that whoever it was, it was definetely male. And strong. Very, very powerful. It frightened her to think of how easily they had restrained her. She could feel coarse hair brushing against her skin. She looked down at the man's boots.
The door to the transport tube opened, and light so brilliant flodded into the chamber that Bulma cried out, temporarily blinded. They walked toward it, and Bulma was suddenly swung down into her captors arms and dumped uncerimoniously onto the hard, cold floor of the new ship. Air hissed as the door was locked and shut behind them. She crawled up into a ball, instinctively holding her stomach, and tried to get her bearings straight. The light was bright. . . nearly too bright to see. She sucked the cold air in through shaking gasps and shuddered as another set of boots stepped quietly into view.
"I told you to be more careful with her." an angry, yet aristocratic voice said from above her.
Her captor shrugged from behind her. She could hear the rustle of fabric.
"She's alive. Isn't that all that matters?"
"Hardly." The voice in front of her snapped. Bulma's head swam. She struggled to pinpoint her confusion as she stared numbly at the black and silver boots. There was something. . . familiar about the man's voice before her. Something that she couldn't quite place. Hadn't she heard this voice before? She took a breath and put one hand out to steady herself. Well, she wouldn't know if she continued to sit here. Shaking, she slowly raised her head.
And looked up at Vegeta.
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I did it again, didn't I? I left you all at a cliffy. ^_^
Well. . . only one way to find out what happens, right?
Reviews welcome!
~J. J
AN: Meh, I had a busy weekend. What can I say. Enjoy the chapter!
~J.J
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Bulma stepped away from the circuit board. She wiped a loose strand of hair from her eyes and glared down at the few remaining wires.
So far, she had returned most of the loose wires to their proper place. Fixing the cabin of the ship was the first and most important of the repairs. It didn't matter how bad the damage outside of the ship was, if the main controlroom wasn't opperating, then nothing would.
She had been working for hours on end, and hadn't realized how truly exhausted she was before her legs trembled beneath her. She wanted to keep working, wanted to get out of her predicament as quickly as she could, but she knew that if she didn't allow herself rest then she could overexhaust herself. She turned from the circuit board and walked over to Spider and Ghost, making her way through the dark interior of the cabin. Bulma had never been afraid of the dark before, but floating out in the middle of space without any lights on was terribly unsettling. Space had a darkness to it that defied any shadows she had ever seen. It seemed to swallow everything up. She stood staring out the window at the thousands of blinking stars before continuing toward her furry friends.
Spider had stopped bleeding, which meant that he was going to live. There was no telling how quickly or slowly the wound would heal, however, and Bulma knew she had to be careful. She wished now that she had asked Strifelon more about the Roctorn's as a species. If she had, she might have been able to help Spider more efficiently. She sighed and sat down beside him, pushing his water bowl closer. When she had found the fist aid kit, she had also brought up some blankets, food, and Ghost and Spider's water dishes. Ghost had drank heartily, but Spider had turned his head away. This worried Bulma.
"You have to drink something, boy." she said softly. "Please?"
Spider's eyes closed. His chest shuddered as he took in an obviously painful breath. Bulma's forehead creased as she scrunched up her face and tried not to cry. She could see a fresh stain of blood spredding across the bandage, seeping through. He had recovered from his beating from Tajil when he had attacked her down in The Dungeons. It hadn't taken him long. However, this wound was different. It was internal, rather than external, and very deep.
Bulma needed more bandages.
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Chi-Chi gasped in surprise as Goku bolted upright out of bed. A sheen of sweat on his forehead shone in the moonlight coming in from the window. He looked terribly unsettled. Chi-Chi put a hand on his forearm and gently squeezed it.
"Goku?" she prompted him.
He wiped a hand across his face and glared softly, seemingly struggling with some internal concentration. "Something's wrong." He said.
His demeanor was so unlike him that Chi-Chi felt her heart fluttering. Her first thought was that something had happened to Bulma; a day hadn't gone by that she hadn't thought about her best friend.
"What do you feel?" She asked softly, trying to keep the terror from her voice. "What is it?"
"Vegeta." Goku said, his voice worried. "I can't sense his ki."
Chi-Chi's eyes went wide, but she was confused. "What do you mean?"
"Everyone has a Ki, Chi-Chi." Goku said absently, rising from the bed. He began to pace around, his hands fists at his side. "I can always sense them. . . the Ki of those around me. It's something a Sayajin can do."
Chi-Chi had heard Goku explain this to her before. She put her hands in her lap and forced them together, watching her husband as he paced. "What does it mean, then?"
Goku stopped. "It means. . . that something has happened to Vegeta. He's. . . he's gone."
"What?" Chi-Chi bolted out of bed. "Are you sure? But that. . . that can't be right! How could Vegeta have died? What's happened to Bulma, then?" she heard the panic rising in her voice. "What the hell is Bulma going to do without Vegeta to protect her now?"
"I don't know." Goku ran a hand through his hair. He paused and sighed. "He should have let me come."
Chi-Chi was thinking fast. "Whatever happened to Vegeta. . . means that Bulma is alone now. They were probably on the ship, weren't they? So that means. . . we could wish Vegeta back with the Dragonballs, but then what would we do about Bulma?"
"Vegeta would appear on Earth. Not where he died." Goku reminded her.
"Would. . . would the Dragon let us wish Bulma back to Earth?" Chi-Chi asked him.
Goku looked over at her, pain in his features. "I don't know, Chi-Chi. He might not."
Chi-Chi felt tears welling in her eyes. This wasn't supposed to happen! Everything was just supposed to work out for them. They were supposed to be back weeks ago. What had happened to Vegeta? Was Bulma still alive? One thing was for sure.
"Goku," Chi-Chi grabbed hold of his arm. "We have to get the Dragonballs."
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Vegeta opened his eyes.
Was he dead?
Had he been born again?
He gasped, nearly choking on a mouthful of strange, dark blue liquid. He reached for his throat and his eyes bulged as he drew in the liquid like oxygen. His body tensed and he shuddered in confused, sweet torture as he realized that he was breathing solid liquid. He was lying facedown in it, and for a moment he lashed out with his legs out of instinct and brief panic, only to be hit with another startling discovery.
He wasn't sinking. Whatever he was lying on was solid.
Vegeta's brows came together in a confused glare. When he moved, his gloved hands sunk deeply into the liquid, but when he applied strength to move himself into a standing position, they held, and he pushed himself upright. He straightened on unsteady legs, and took in the strange and wonderous place around him.
If he had indeed died, this was not Hell.
The sky above him, if it could be called a sky, was an endless, pitch black void of glittering stars. It moved and shifted with the same texture as a bowl of slowly stirred syrup, although the stars did not move with it. He felt nauseaus looking at it, and for a moment his arms shot out to steady him, before he decided to take to the air.
The air was thick around him, and he felt uneasy to breathe it. Was it air? Where was he? The ground beneath his feet was the strange blue liquid he had been lying in. It too shifted and moved with the same slow, continuous river of travel. Dark shapes moved within its depths. The sky seemed low upon him, stretched on forever on all sides of him. Vegeta turned in the air, staring in annoyed wonderment as he realized that where ever he was did not have a beginning, or an end. It simply went on forever.
"Eternity." a female voice said softly.
Vegeta whipped around, startled. Before him, a figure began to take shape. The air shimmered around him, and he felt the hairs stand out on his arms as an impossibly beautiful face seemed to push and stretch against the very air, until at last, it 'popped' through and settled into the space around him. It was a woman, and in that very moment, Vegeta was not foolish enough to make the mistake of assuming her human.
She was. . . something different.
Cascades of black hair swam from her scalp, always moving, seeming to flow, but never growing longer. She was wrapped in a simple white cloak, her body upright as she floated before him. Her face was gorgeous, beyond beautiful, and smiled at him with a curious wonder. Her body twisted and shifted in the air, her eyes two glittering black orbs, devoid of pupils. Her mouth opened, and it was simply a dark red hole. She spoke.
"Why do you come?" her voice made Vegeta's skin crawl. Muscial, it floated and echoed across the vast endlessness of the void. She turned her head to look at him with a sideways glance. Her skin shimmered with a dark blue streak that crossed her features like spilled paint. She had not stopped smiling.
"Is this a dream?" Vegeta asked cautiously.
The woman turned again, her eyes glittering strangely. "No." She said, and her sudden smile dissipated from her face. A frown melted upon it. "You are not dreaming, Vegeta."
"How do you know who I am?" Vegeta growled. Anger and defense screamed at him to power up, while instinct told him calmly to listen.
She lifted her hands through the air, and Vegeta felt a wave of low humming rush past his ears as she did. Her frown increased, but he could see carefully hidden curiosity behind it. "I have brought you here. It is of. . . great importance." she put emphasis on the word, her musical tone changing to a definite chord of authority and wisdom.
Vegeta glared. What was she talking about? Who was she? Where the hell was he?
"Where is Bulma?" He growled suddenly. "I demand that you tell me what is going on!"
Her face shifted to sad again. "In due time, Prince." she said softly, and Vegeta swore he could hear children crying on the wind of her voice. "In due time."
"TELL ME!" He roared, suddenly frightened. Something was wrong. He could feel it. He felt panic swell within his chest. Where was Bulma? Why had this. . . thing brought him here?
She appraised him for a moment before speaking. "You are dead, Vegeta. You are neither in Heaven, nor in Hell. You are not between the two. You are here only because I have brought you. I have brought you because it was needed. I made the choice. I intervened."
"Intervened!" Vegeta snarled, moving forward. "Stop talking in riddles!"
Her mouth turned down dramatically. "You have much anger within you." she paused. "It is of great importance that you stay here."
"Stay? I'm not staying anywhere!" Vegeta roared. In his sudden raging panic, he brought his hand before him and fired a ki blast at the woman. The blast roared from his palm with intense, flaming fury at shot straight at the woman. Vegeta gaped, open-mouthed as it passed completely through her, merely causing a slight shimmer. Her waves of hair settled around her quietly, and she silently stared at him.
"That which brings you death is useless to you here." She said softly, an obsidian tear rolling down her cheek. "I am sad, but it is of great importance, Vegeta. I intervened to save you. I intervened to show you. I will show you, and you will understand. If you do not, you will never again exist. You must see."
Vegeta fell to the floor, his knees falling into the liquid. He stared down at his hand in disbelief, and then back up at the woman. Her tear fell to the liquid, and caused a ripple of a black wave to wash over Vegeta's knees. He felt nothing. The liquid was neither wet, nor dry. It was cold.
He was cold.
He lifted his head, his voice hoarse. "What have you done?"
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Bulma's eyes flickered open. She had fallen asleep. She sat up, rubbing at her eyes. How many hours had passed? There was no way of telling.
For a moment, she thought that perhaps she was not yet awake, because of the strange beeping noise she heard in the back of her mind. She mumbled, turning over against Spider, groaning at the noise. She was so tired. She just wanted to go back to. . .
Bulma shot upright. Beeping noise?
Staggering to her feet, Bulma raced for the control pannel. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked down and saw the radar screen flashing, indicating another ship. Bulma's hands came up to her mouth, her fingers shaking. The ship was large, but not much bigger than her own. She couldn't tell much from the model, but they were only a few miles away. The communication screen flickered to life, and Bulma watched, her face green in the glow of the screens, as a blury image came into view.
It was a figure. She could not tell if it was human, male or female. So bad was the damage that the communication screen still didn't register properly. But there was a face. She was not alone. There was another ship. She wouldn't die out here.
Her heart racing, Bulma listened to the disfigured, detached voice. "Identify yourself." she strained, trying to make out if the voice sounded masculine or feminen. She couldn't tell. Her hand trembling, she reached down and flicked on her side of the communication screen. Now they would be able to see her face. She wondered if their view of her would be as blury as her own.
"B-bulma Breifs. H-human." she finally made herself say. "Female. First class."
"State your status." the disfigured voice replied.
Now her normality began to return to her. She could feel an odd excitment mixing with a growing sense of unease. "Injured. My ship is badly in need of repairs." she paused. "Running low on fuel."
The voice was a long time in coming. "State your crew."
Bulma closed her eyes, her finger shaking violently on the button. She clicked it down with a great effort.
"No crew." she whispered. She wouldn't tell them about Vegeta, or about Spider and Ghost. The possibilites of them helping her were already slim. If they knew she had alien creatures aboard with her, there was a good chance they would turn around.
"State any infectious diseases." the voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Bulma found a small smile sneaking onto her face as she realized she could proudly reply that she had none.
"None. Health is top notch, save for a few injuries." she said clearly.
She did not want to tell them about the baby. She didn't know these people. She didn't know how many of them there were, or what they were, or what they would do. She wondered briefly if perhaps she shouldn't have sounded so eager. These could very well be the wrong people to be 'saved' by. Her mouth felt dry. Yet, she had no other choice. She had estimated the amount of damage to the ship. She could not to the repairs herself, and the HOME communicater, leading to her father's main base, was not opperating. These might very well be the only people she would run into. For days. Weeks. Months.
She didn't have that long.
Heart racing, Bulma waited for a reply.
"We will commence resque." The voice said after a moment. "Please prepare to lock and engage your thrusters. Buckle yourself in."
Bulma's breath was coming raggedly now. "There -are- no thrusters." she said into the communicater. "Resque will have to commence---"
She didn't get a chance to say anything more as a jolt jarred her off her feet. She stumbled and swung out with her good hand, grabbing her seat to steady herself. Her feet were swept from under her and she held on to the chair with her one hand, fighting to stay upright. Spider growled from where he lay, his eyes wide and confused. Bulma righted herself, and swung into her seat, and strapped her seatbelts on. They could have given her more warning! She'd been right in the middle of a sentence!
Spider's claws dug into the floor of the ship and he tried to stand up. Ghost scurried off into a dark corner, chirping wildly. "Spider, STAY!" Bulma said loudly over her shoulder to him. She didn't want him getting up, just yet. It might take them a while to get to her. He needed all the rest he could get, although she didn't think with the sudden excitment that he would be sleeping. Mewling deep in his throat, Spider grudgingly lay back down.
Bulma held on to her seat for dear life, memories of the present day (had a day even gone by?) flowing freely and painfully through her mind. She could not deny that she was terrified. What had she gotten herself into? Who were these people? She hadn't thought to ask them anything about themselves. She could very well be resqued by a renegade group of bounty hunters, pirates, or murdering scumbags.
One last, violent jolt rocked her in her seat, and then all was silent. She was still wondering how exactly their ship had reached hers so quickly. She held her breath and waited, wondering if she should get out of her seat, just yet. She looked over her shoulder at Spider, who was getting up, wether or not she wanted him to. He limped over to her and protectively laid his head on her shoulder. Bulma touched his neck gratefully. "Good boy." She said softly. Together they stared ahead, Spider panting and Bulma shaking, waiting for whatever it was that would happen.
Bulma squeeled in surprise as she heard a loud, shuddering clanking noise. They had released their thrusters and attached themselves to the side of her ship. She wondered, frantically, if the ship would hold under the sudden pressure. She could hear airlocks escaping in screams of steam, and she knew they must have released their transport tube. Most definetely, one of the crew members would be making the walk in a suit toward her ship's main airlock door right now. Her fingers gripped the seat tighter.
Spider began to make a low, keening sound deep in his throat. His eyes had narrowed, and his tails lashed around agitatedly behind him. "What's wrong, boy?" Bulma asked, rubbing his neck in a comforting manner. No doubt the big Roctorn was frightened by the sudden change of events.
Yet. . .
Something about Spider's behavior was unsettling. He looked almost. . . anxious, as though he found something familiar about the situation. His massive nostrils sniffed the air delicately, and Bulma watched, confused, as his tails began to wag back and forth. He pawed the ground and lowered his head, looking out from under his furrowed brows. The keening noise altered in pitch, turned almost happy, and then lowered again to frightened. Bulma could not understand what was wrong with her friend. She wanted to pass it off as simple animal behavior, but it was making her nervous.
Then, with a hiss of compressed air, the door to her ship opened. She could hear someone moving slowly into the corridor, and out of the transport tube.
"Hello! I'm in here!" Bulma called. She undid the buckles to her seatbelt and tried desperately not to think of what the person. . . or thing waiting for her looked like. "I'm in the Cabin!"
Her buckles came apart with a soft click, and Bulma rose from her seat. She could hear the person moving toward her through the hallway. Her fingers wove together like knots. Her heart hammered in her chest.
Then, things took a turn for the worse.
Spider lowered his head to the ground, planted his feet apart, and began to make an awful, violent growling noise. Bulma had little time to contemplate his sudden change in behavior before she felt a rush of air past her ear, and then felt two strong, muscled arms come around her throat. She screamed, before one gloved hand covered her mouth in an attempt to quiet her, smothering her cry. She heard a brief scuffle, a growl from Spider, and then silence. Something fell hard to the ground. She kicked out, but a hard, rigid body pressed up against hers and stopped her useless flailing instantly. Panic flared up in Bulma. She could hardly move.
Then she was thrown over the shoulder of her captor like a potato sack, carelessly. She struggled again, but strong hands held her tight. She screamed inwardly at herself. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! She shouldn't have returned their call. She should have just ignored them. She should have waited. Waited a bit more. Should have been more careful!
She thought she would scream when her captor released his hand from her mouth, but instead, only tears came. She sobbed uselessly as she was carried down the hallway and into the dark transport tube. She shivered against the sudden cold, and wondered what not wearing a proper spacesuit was doing to her body.
Where was her Hope now?
She tried to get a look at her captor, but it was too dark to see anything properly. The only thing she could make out in the bad light was that whoever it was, it was definetely male. And strong. Very, very powerful. It frightened her to think of how easily they had restrained her. She could feel coarse hair brushing against her skin. She looked down at the man's boots.
The door to the transport tube opened, and light so brilliant flodded into the chamber that Bulma cried out, temporarily blinded. They walked toward it, and Bulma was suddenly swung down into her captors arms and dumped uncerimoniously onto the hard, cold floor of the new ship. Air hissed as the door was locked and shut behind them. She crawled up into a ball, instinctively holding her stomach, and tried to get her bearings straight. The light was bright. . . nearly too bright to see. She sucked the cold air in through shaking gasps and shuddered as another set of boots stepped quietly into view.
"I told you to be more careful with her." an angry, yet aristocratic voice said from above her.
Her captor shrugged from behind her. She could hear the rustle of fabric.
"She's alive. Isn't that all that matters?"
"Hardly." The voice in front of her snapped. Bulma's head swam. She struggled to pinpoint her confusion as she stared numbly at the black and silver boots. There was something. . . familiar about the man's voice before her. Something that she couldn't quite place. Hadn't she heard this voice before? She took a breath and put one hand out to steady herself. Well, she wouldn't know if she continued to sit here. Shaking, she slowly raised her head.
And looked up at Vegeta.
_____________
I did it again, didn't I? I left you all at a cliffy. ^_^
Well. . . only one way to find out what happens, right?
Reviews welcome!
~J. J