I don't own DBZ
Well, Chapter 4 of Out of Control is here. Sorry for the long wait. A big 'thank you' for all the reviews, they're appreciated!! Thanks to Melina for beta-reading!
Chapter Four
As her consciousness slowly came back to her, she became more aware of her surroundings. At first she was frightened when she felt herself being submerged into a somewhat cold fluid. But next, she remembered she was in what they called a Rejuvenation tank. Immediately after, she remembered the reason why she was in this thing. Kryt's lifeless face flashed before her eyes, and she gasped. No! Her mind yelled.
Suddenly, the liquid was drained, and she sought support at the wall of the tank; she no longer floated around, and for a moment her legs didn't seem to support her. Hesitantly, even though the fluid was gone, she reached up to her face, and carefully removed the breathing mask. The hatch started to open, and right before her stood the medic, waiting for her, watching her, with a somewhat relieved smile.
"Ah, you're awake at last! It did take longer than five hours... the Prince has been around a couple of times. He is most... worried for your well- being! Yes, worried. And he is just a bit... impatient, yes, just a bit though; he is a Prince so- How is your arm? Come out of there, silly girl!" He helped her out of the machine and looked her over. Then he took a hold of her arm. She flinched, but then frowned when she felt... nothing! It didn't hurt!
"Of course it doesn't hurt! Silly girl! It has healed... It should be, after almost seven hours; damned thing," the medic mumbled, while he quickly examined her arm.
"Yup. Totally healed! It should give you no more problems!"
"Err... Thank you, I think..." Bulma looked at her arm; it looked completely normal again. This was a very advanced technology; no wonder the Arthrods didn't let slaves use it. It was probably much to valuable to heal something as invaluable as a slave. She sniffed. But whatever was in that liquid, it smelled horrible! Her clothes clung to her body, and everything oozed of stench. Yuck.
But what was a smell compared to the death of her friend? Bulma was almost sure Kryt was dead... She had been so pale, and her blood had flowed out in such an alarming rate... The wound was so large, so close to her heart... It was foolish to have hope. But still, she did.
"Now, just come with me, ok? We have to get you cleaned up. I bet you want out of these clothes and to wash yourself up. The rejuvenation fluids are quite... stinky, don't you think? I'm still looking for ways to perfume them you know, but the Prince says it doesn't have a priority. I don't get that, I mean, they have such a sensitive sense of smell, but they don't care if they smell themselves. It's quite strange... or not. I guess they don't really care about personal hygiene. No bugs can get them down, so why take the trouble of keeping yourself clean..." As he led Bulma down to another side chamber of the large room, she caught a glance of another sort of Rejuvenation tanks. They were slightly bigger, and looked somewhat older.
"What are those tanks for?" She asked curiously.
"Oh, them? Those are older models. They are really slow, if you compare them to the new ones! They take twice the amount of time a new model needs to heal a person! It's quite an update, don't you think? And I must say, I am mostly responsible for it! Yes, quite an accomplishment! I don't want to brag... But the Prince was very pleased with me! Yes he was! Now, most of the old models have been replaced by the new ones, but the Prince decided to keep a few. They are used now by slaves." Seeing Bulma's confused look he asked: "What?"
"Why let a slave use them? I mean... Isn't that a lot of trouble for something as unimportant as a slave?"
"Hmph," the medic snorted, "those Arthrods are surely stupid if they didn't try to save their possessions. The Prince has many valuable slaves. It would be a shame to let them perish."
"It would take very much to make a slave valuable in the eyes of the Arthrods. But they have- had so many. They could easily find a replacement."
"Right! No wonder those beings are so easily to defeat! They have no brain at all!"
Bulma gave the medic a weak smile: "My thought exactly!" She looked once more to the older models, and saw one of them was working. "One is being used."
"Huh?! Oh! Yes! It's- Well-" Bulma looked a bit strangely at the reaction of the medic. It almost seemed... nervous?
"Well, yes, they must have brought someone in, when I was watching you! Yes, because I have been watching you the entire time! Maybe someone got hurt during the take over... a mechanic or something... Now, come along! In here; we don't want you to catch a cold!! He pushed her into a small room, and closed the door hastily. He said through the door: "You can wash up, and there are new clothes on the table! Just put your old ones in the large bin in the corner! They will be destroyed-"
"Destroyed?!" Bulma called out. "Why? It would be a waste!"
"Right! As if! Those clothes you're wearing are rags! Not at all befitting for a Royal slave! Now, hurry up! I'm going to inform the Prince that your healing has completed! Maybe then he'll get off my back. Like I can help that you're..." The rest of his sentence was lost to Bulma when he apparently walked away from the door. Bulma shrugged, and quickly started to undress herself, and hopped into the strange looking cabin. But she had quickly figured it out, and soon after, she stood under a warm flow of water, letting it rinse her body. Her mind was elsewhere though; worrying, dreading and wondering about her friend and their future.
****
She was in the process of putting on the loose-fitting pants, when the door was unceremoniously thrown open and the Prince of all Saiyans marched in. Bulma took a step back, away from the door, being startled. Quickly, she fastened the pants, while she kept a wary eye at the scowling Prince.
"It's about time you got out of that tank!" He snapped at her. He eyed her arm appraisingly. "I assume that it is healed now."
Why does he care, wondered Bulma, but said quietly: "It has healed completely, sir."
"Good." His eyes traveled down her body, making Bulma fidget. Her new clothes were actually a little bit too large for her, but under his stare it felt like she wore nothing at all. She bowed her head low, not letting him see the unease on her face.
"Hmm, those clothes are too large for you, but I assure you that you'll get a more fitting wardrobe once we're back at Planet Vegeta. I think our traditional dresses will surely flatter your figure, though you are too skinny."
Dresses? Bulma almost couldn't remember wearing anything else than the baggy overalls. A pink dress was all that she remembered from her childhood on Earth... Why could she remember so little from that period in her life? It seemed that the gruesome murder of her family had erased all the happy moments of her childhood. After the killing of her parents, she had never been a child again. The innocence and trust had disappeared, leaving behind a very young, and scarred human being, trapped in a world in which she was worthless than the clothes she wore.
"Now, come on, you've kept me waiting long enough... though I have to admit I've found some pleasurable pastimes... Those pests certainly can take some torture." He smiled a twisted smile, making Bulma shudder. Now she looked somewhat closer, she could see tiny blots of blood, covering his armor and uniform. She shuddered again.
"What," he asked mockingly, "can't stand the sight of a little blood? Tssk. You better learn, Girl. Blood is something very common in our world... We just *love* to spill it." He licked his lips, while Bulma took a step back.
"Don't worry... I won't spill yours... much." He chuckled at her now very shocked and alarmed expression.
"Let's go," he said to the shivering girl. He walked out of the door, followed by a somewhat timid Bulma. What was going to happen next?
****
On the way out of the sickbay, she had almost no time to take in more of her new surroundings. She cast a look at the older tanks, seeing that there was still one being used. The new versions were almost all empty. Just two were occupied, but the Saiyan occupants seemed rather healthy. Maybe they were almost healed? She looked with awe and curiosity at all the machinery and equipment that adorned the sickbay. Most of them seemed much more advanced than anything the Arthrods had.
Suddenly, the medic appeared before them, bowing his head low. "I'll have the results of the tests by tomorrow morning, Your Highness!" He exclaimed.
"Fine. Send them to me." He ordered, not even sparing the creature a look, but kept walking.
"Tests?" Bulma whispered softly, more to herself than to anyone. Still, the Prince picked it up, and answered her.
"In the healing process, Yubu," he pointed to the medic, "has extracted some blood and tissue from you, to examine your DNA structure and do some tests concerning fertility, diseases and so forth."
"B-But why?"
"I told you already! You aren't stupid! I won't just mate with any human woman! She has to have some quality!"
She was nothing more than a possession, but it still irritated her, to be seen like nothing else than a breading mare... Even though she was used to it, it still made her feel hopeless. Hopeless and worthless.
"I'm sorry, sir." She bit back the bitter and angry words that were on the tip of her tongue. What was it about him that could make her loose her control so easily. Her urge to survive were simply pushed to the back of her mind, and instead, she was riled up and ready for a fight... he was so dangerous; he could be the death of her, literally!
"Next time, try to say it like you mean it." He smirked at her, making her anger build. Quickly, she looked away, afraid that for the first time in her life, she would blow up on a person! Not good, she thought horrified, not good at all!
She heard the Prince snicker, but he didn't say another word, but instead continued towards the exit. Bulma heaved a sigh and trailed after him. Soon, they had left the sick bay, and were walking down long corridors, filled with large Saiyans. She felt their stares, but she didn't hear a thing. Maybe as to not anger their Prince? She did not know, but still, the suggestive looks were giving her chills.
Finally, they stopped in front of a door. The Prince opened the door, by punching in some codes in a small security device on the side of the door. Then, he gestured at the room, and Bulma obediently walked inside. The Prince however didn't enter, but stayed outside.
"I still have some unfinished business... I am sure you can keep yourself busy while I'm away. Sleep, or take another bath, I don't care. I'll see you soon." With that, the door closed, and Bulma was left alone.
****
Bulma turned around, and looked around the room. It was huge. And from the looks of it, there were other rooms connected to it. It was sparsely furnished, but with a great quality, that, even she could see. It wasn't very hard for her to conclude this was the Prince's room. It practically screamed 'Royalty'. She hesitantly took a step further into the room. She wasn't feeling at ease here. The luxuries displayed in the room made her strangely long for the life she had to leave behind. It had been hard, but predictable and tolerable with her friend at her side. She had to find a way out, one way or another. But she couldn't do that from here, and she had no doubt she had been locked up in his chambers. She had to wait, although the insecurity was driving her mad.
She walked tentatively into one of the adjoining rooms. It appeared the be a large bathroom. Another one was the bedroom. For a time she wandered through them, gaping at their contents and sizes. One room reminded her very vaguely at a room in her home on Earth... It was filled with all kinds of electronical equipment. Yes, it reminded her of her father's hobby room, in which he tinkered with his smaller, harmless inventions.
She walked back into the main room, and lowered herself slowly and carefully on one of the chairs, afraid that she would do something clumsy like breaking it. After a minute or two, when nothing had happened to the chair, she slowly relaxed. From this point, she had a lovely view of a large window, and into space. As the little, twinkling lights of the countless stars flashed by, she let herself being softly soothed into sleep.
****
She abruptly woke up at the hiss of the door. She quickly jumped up out of the chair, and turned to face the person. It was the Prince, who was wearing a satisfied smirk on his face. She was itching to slap it off. Would that urge be visible on her face?
He walked further into the room, and when he had reached her, he stopped before her, a lot closer than Bulma liked, and let his eyes take in the sight of her.
"This," he held up his hand, with a small device Bulma hadn't seen yet, "are the results of the tests. And there is no need to worry."
"R-really," Bulma stuttered, very nervous all of a sudden. She hoped with all her hopes that it said she was sterile, or that she had some major hereditary illness or other DNA flaws. But while she was looking at his smirk and his dark, gleaming eyes, she just knew that wouldn't be the case.
"No. You're perfectly fine. It even appears to be that your DNA is very much suited for mine. Our brats will be strong, and intelligent..." he reached out a hand and caressed her face.
"I would have loved to start immediately on trying to make one, but unfortunately, we're in orbit around Planet Vegeta, and we'll be landing soon. Somehow, my father has heard about you already, and wants to meet the woman I've chosen as my future Mate. I hope his nagging will finally stop. I've should have killed the old fool years ago." He remarked casually, making Bulma gasp.
"It's only tradition. And, you'll be queen, instead of a princess." He chuckled at her look of pure disbelief. He frowned as he looked at her plain clothing.
"It's a shame I don't have anything to show you off in... But I guess your hair will compensate that somewhat."
"I'm not some cattle to be put on a display!" She muttered outraged.
"Now, now, relax! Sooner or later, I'll have to show you to my people. Better sooner than later, I think. Then at least, we'll be done with it. Now, come on. We don't want to keep them waiting!"
****
Yeah, I know, short chapter. I think I've been suffering from a writer's block, the past month. But I think it's over now. So expect the next chapter (somewhat) sooner. I've just started a new study (English Language and Culture), so I don't know how much time I have left to write. But, I have hopes that the quality and quantity of my stories will (dramatically) increase, due to my new study! Go me! Now, if you're still reading this boring AN, I hope you can find a little more time and leave me a review, or email, or flame, whatever you want. Oh, and a big thanks to all you reviewers by pointing out my mistakes and made suggestions about the whole docking-area-thingy. Thanks!! Pallas
Well, Chapter 4 of Out of Control is here. Sorry for the long wait. A big 'thank you' for all the reviews, they're appreciated!! Thanks to Melina for beta-reading!
Chapter Four
As her consciousness slowly came back to her, she became more aware of her surroundings. At first she was frightened when she felt herself being submerged into a somewhat cold fluid. But next, she remembered she was in what they called a Rejuvenation tank. Immediately after, she remembered the reason why she was in this thing. Kryt's lifeless face flashed before her eyes, and she gasped. No! Her mind yelled.
Suddenly, the liquid was drained, and she sought support at the wall of the tank; she no longer floated around, and for a moment her legs didn't seem to support her. Hesitantly, even though the fluid was gone, she reached up to her face, and carefully removed the breathing mask. The hatch started to open, and right before her stood the medic, waiting for her, watching her, with a somewhat relieved smile.
"Ah, you're awake at last! It did take longer than five hours... the Prince has been around a couple of times. He is most... worried for your well- being! Yes, worried. And he is just a bit... impatient, yes, just a bit though; he is a Prince so- How is your arm? Come out of there, silly girl!" He helped her out of the machine and looked her over. Then he took a hold of her arm. She flinched, but then frowned when she felt... nothing! It didn't hurt!
"Of course it doesn't hurt! Silly girl! It has healed... It should be, after almost seven hours; damned thing," the medic mumbled, while he quickly examined her arm.
"Yup. Totally healed! It should give you no more problems!"
"Err... Thank you, I think..." Bulma looked at her arm; it looked completely normal again. This was a very advanced technology; no wonder the Arthrods didn't let slaves use it. It was probably much to valuable to heal something as invaluable as a slave. She sniffed. But whatever was in that liquid, it smelled horrible! Her clothes clung to her body, and everything oozed of stench. Yuck.
But what was a smell compared to the death of her friend? Bulma was almost sure Kryt was dead... She had been so pale, and her blood had flowed out in such an alarming rate... The wound was so large, so close to her heart... It was foolish to have hope. But still, she did.
"Now, just come with me, ok? We have to get you cleaned up. I bet you want out of these clothes and to wash yourself up. The rejuvenation fluids are quite... stinky, don't you think? I'm still looking for ways to perfume them you know, but the Prince says it doesn't have a priority. I don't get that, I mean, they have such a sensitive sense of smell, but they don't care if they smell themselves. It's quite strange... or not. I guess they don't really care about personal hygiene. No bugs can get them down, so why take the trouble of keeping yourself clean..." As he led Bulma down to another side chamber of the large room, she caught a glance of another sort of Rejuvenation tanks. They were slightly bigger, and looked somewhat older.
"What are those tanks for?" She asked curiously.
"Oh, them? Those are older models. They are really slow, if you compare them to the new ones! They take twice the amount of time a new model needs to heal a person! It's quite an update, don't you think? And I must say, I am mostly responsible for it! Yes, quite an accomplishment! I don't want to brag... But the Prince was very pleased with me! Yes he was! Now, most of the old models have been replaced by the new ones, but the Prince decided to keep a few. They are used now by slaves." Seeing Bulma's confused look he asked: "What?"
"Why let a slave use them? I mean... Isn't that a lot of trouble for something as unimportant as a slave?"
"Hmph," the medic snorted, "those Arthrods are surely stupid if they didn't try to save their possessions. The Prince has many valuable slaves. It would be a shame to let them perish."
"It would take very much to make a slave valuable in the eyes of the Arthrods. But they have- had so many. They could easily find a replacement."
"Right! No wonder those beings are so easily to defeat! They have no brain at all!"
Bulma gave the medic a weak smile: "My thought exactly!" She looked once more to the older models, and saw one of them was working. "One is being used."
"Huh?! Oh! Yes! It's- Well-" Bulma looked a bit strangely at the reaction of the medic. It almost seemed... nervous?
"Well, yes, they must have brought someone in, when I was watching you! Yes, because I have been watching you the entire time! Maybe someone got hurt during the take over... a mechanic or something... Now, come along! In here; we don't want you to catch a cold!! He pushed her into a small room, and closed the door hastily. He said through the door: "You can wash up, and there are new clothes on the table! Just put your old ones in the large bin in the corner! They will be destroyed-"
"Destroyed?!" Bulma called out. "Why? It would be a waste!"
"Right! As if! Those clothes you're wearing are rags! Not at all befitting for a Royal slave! Now, hurry up! I'm going to inform the Prince that your healing has completed! Maybe then he'll get off my back. Like I can help that you're..." The rest of his sentence was lost to Bulma when he apparently walked away from the door. Bulma shrugged, and quickly started to undress herself, and hopped into the strange looking cabin. But she had quickly figured it out, and soon after, she stood under a warm flow of water, letting it rinse her body. Her mind was elsewhere though; worrying, dreading and wondering about her friend and their future.
****
She was in the process of putting on the loose-fitting pants, when the door was unceremoniously thrown open and the Prince of all Saiyans marched in. Bulma took a step back, away from the door, being startled. Quickly, she fastened the pants, while she kept a wary eye at the scowling Prince.
"It's about time you got out of that tank!" He snapped at her. He eyed her arm appraisingly. "I assume that it is healed now."
Why does he care, wondered Bulma, but said quietly: "It has healed completely, sir."
"Good." His eyes traveled down her body, making Bulma fidget. Her new clothes were actually a little bit too large for her, but under his stare it felt like she wore nothing at all. She bowed her head low, not letting him see the unease on her face.
"Hmm, those clothes are too large for you, but I assure you that you'll get a more fitting wardrobe once we're back at Planet Vegeta. I think our traditional dresses will surely flatter your figure, though you are too skinny."
Dresses? Bulma almost couldn't remember wearing anything else than the baggy overalls. A pink dress was all that she remembered from her childhood on Earth... Why could she remember so little from that period in her life? It seemed that the gruesome murder of her family had erased all the happy moments of her childhood. After the killing of her parents, she had never been a child again. The innocence and trust had disappeared, leaving behind a very young, and scarred human being, trapped in a world in which she was worthless than the clothes she wore.
"Now, come on, you've kept me waiting long enough... though I have to admit I've found some pleasurable pastimes... Those pests certainly can take some torture." He smiled a twisted smile, making Bulma shudder. Now she looked somewhat closer, she could see tiny blots of blood, covering his armor and uniform. She shuddered again.
"What," he asked mockingly, "can't stand the sight of a little blood? Tssk. You better learn, Girl. Blood is something very common in our world... We just *love* to spill it." He licked his lips, while Bulma took a step back.
"Don't worry... I won't spill yours... much." He chuckled at her now very shocked and alarmed expression.
"Let's go," he said to the shivering girl. He walked out of the door, followed by a somewhat timid Bulma. What was going to happen next?
****
On the way out of the sickbay, she had almost no time to take in more of her new surroundings. She cast a look at the older tanks, seeing that there was still one being used. The new versions were almost all empty. Just two were occupied, but the Saiyan occupants seemed rather healthy. Maybe they were almost healed? She looked with awe and curiosity at all the machinery and equipment that adorned the sickbay. Most of them seemed much more advanced than anything the Arthrods had.
Suddenly, the medic appeared before them, bowing his head low. "I'll have the results of the tests by tomorrow morning, Your Highness!" He exclaimed.
"Fine. Send them to me." He ordered, not even sparing the creature a look, but kept walking.
"Tests?" Bulma whispered softly, more to herself than to anyone. Still, the Prince picked it up, and answered her.
"In the healing process, Yubu," he pointed to the medic, "has extracted some blood and tissue from you, to examine your DNA structure and do some tests concerning fertility, diseases and so forth."
"B-But why?"
"I told you already! You aren't stupid! I won't just mate with any human woman! She has to have some quality!"
She was nothing more than a possession, but it still irritated her, to be seen like nothing else than a breading mare... Even though she was used to it, it still made her feel hopeless. Hopeless and worthless.
"I'm sorry, sir." She bit back the bitter and angry words that were on the tip of her tongue. What was it about him that could make her loose her control so easily. Her urge to survive were simply pushed to the back of her mind, and instead, she was riled up and ready for a fight... he was so dangerous; he could be the death of her, literally!
"Next time, try to say it like you mean it." He smirked at her, making her anger build. Quickly, she looked away, afraid that for the first time in her life, she would blow up on a person! Not good, she thought horrified, not good at all!
She heard the Prince snicker, but he didn't say another word, but instead continued towards the exit. Bulma heaved a sigh and trailed after him. Soon, they had left the sick bay, and were walking down long corridors, filled with large Saiyans. She felt their stares, but she didn't hear a thing. Maybe as to not anger their Prince? She did not know, but still, the suggestive looks were giving her chills.
Finally, they stopped in front of a door. The Prince opened the door, by punching in some codes in a small security device on the side of the door. Then, he gestured at the room, and Bulma obediently walked inside. The Prince however didn't enter, but stayed outside.
"I still have some unfinished business... I am sure you can keep yourself busy while I'm away. Sleep, or take another bath, I don't care. I'll see you soon." With that, the door closed, and Bulma was left alone.
****
Bulma turned around, and looked around the room. It was huge. And from the looks of it, there were other rooms connected to it. It was sparsely furnished, but with a great quality, that, even she could see. It wasn't very hard for her to conclude this was the Prince's room. It practically screamed 'Royalty'. She hesitantly took a step further into the room. She wasn't feeling at ease here. The luxuries displayed in the room made her strangely long for the life she had to leave behind. It had been hard, but predictable and tolerable with her friend at her side. She had to find a way out, one way or another. But she couldn't do that from here, and she had no doubt she had been locked up in his chambers. She had to wait, although the insecurity was driving her mad.
She walked tentatively into one of the adjoining rooms. It appeared the be a large bathroom. Another one was the bedroom. For a time she wandered through them, gaping at their contents and sizes. One room reminded her very vaguely at a room in her home on Earth... It was filled with all kinds of electronical equipment. Yes, it reminded her of her father's hobby room, in which he tinkered with his smaller, harmless inventions.
She walked back into the main room, and lowered herself slowly and carefully on one of the chairs, afraid that she would do something clumsy like breaking it. After a minute or two, when nothing had happened to the chair, she slowly relaxed. From this point, she had a lovely view of a large window, and into space. As the little, twinkling lights of the countless stars flashed by, she let herself being softly soothed into sleep.
****
She abruptly woke up at the hiss of the door. She quickly jumped up out of the chair, and turned to face the person. It was the Prince, who was wearing a satisfied smirk on his face. She was itching to slap it off. Would that urge be visible on her face?
He walked further into the room, and when he had reached her, he stopped before her, a lot closer than Bulma liked, and let his eyes take in the sight of her.
"This," he held up his hand, with a small device Bulma hadn't seen yet, "are the results of the tests. And there is no need to worry."
"R-really," Bulma stuttered, very nervous all of a sudden. She hoped with all her hopes that it said she was sterile, or that she had some major hereditary illness or other DNA flaws. But while she was looking at his smirk and his dark, gleaming eyes, she just knew that wouldn't be the case.
"No. You're perfectly fine. It even appears to be that your DNA is very much suited for mine. Our brats will be strong, and intelligent..." he reached out a hand and caressed her face.
"I would have loved to start immediately on trying to make one, but unfortunately, we're in orbit around Planet Vegeta, and we'll be landing soon. Somehow, my father has heard about you already, and wants to meet the woman I've chosen as my future Mate. I hope his nagging will finally stop. I've should have killed the old fool years ago." He remarked casually, making Bulma gasp.
"It's only tradition. And, you'll be queen, instead of a princess." He chuckled at her look of pure disbelief. He frowned as he looked at her plain clothing.
"It's a shame I don't have anything to show you off in... But I guess your hair will compensate that somewhat."
"I'm not some cattle to be put on a display!" She muttered outraged.
"Now, now, relax! Sooner or later, I'll have to show you to my people. Better sooner than later, I think. Then at least, we'll be done with it. Now, come on. We don't want to keep them waiting!"
****
Yeah, I know, short chapter. I think I've been suffering from a writer's block, the past month. But I think it's over now. So expect the next chapter (somewhat) sooner. I've just started a new study (English Language and Culture), so I don't know how much time I have left to write. But, I have hopes that the quality and quantity of my stories will (dramatically) increase, due to my new study! Go me! Now, if you're still reading this boring AN, I hope you can find a little more time and leave me a review, or email, or flame, whatever you want. Oh, and a big thanks to all you reviewers by pointing out my mistakes and made suggestions about the whole docking-area-thingy. Thanks!! Pallas