Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ . . . obviously.

The Perfect Flaw

Chapter V

Even through their gloves, their fingers were like ice as they forced Bulma through the darkness. Even without her sight, she knew who was behind her: the King and Prince. Bulma yelled helplessly, kicking desperately at her captors to release her, knowing deep down that it was no use. After all, what was her power compared to these able-bodied demons?

She was forced onto a cold surface, an examination table of some sort. The sleek chrome was cool against her burning cheek . . . and her bare chest. Behind her came incoherent voices; conflicting among themselves. She knew they were talking about her, even if she couldn't hear exactly what they were saying.

Bulma could feel hot tears stinging her eyes as the fear and frustration built up inside of her, increasing when she realized that her hands were tied behind her back. A sharp wire of some kind wound tightly around her wrists, cutting painfully into her flesh each time she struggled to escape them.

It began shortly after that, the torture, when she felt the rough, sinful hands on her back. Both the Prince and King took her then, hurting her hurting her hurting her, over and over again.

And her screams were left unheard in the vast darkness.

Bulma woke with a sudden jolt, her head swiveling in panic as she momentarily forgot where she was. When she realized she was safe, she sank back into the pod-chair, releasing an exasperated sigh.

It was just a dream. A scary, vivid dream.

It was fresh in her mind, too, her own screams resonant in her ears.

As she looked out the window, she wondered again what they would do to her if they caught her. If was different now, what they would have done before would be punishment for attempted escape. But now, she had escaped, and the punishment was probably far worse than death itself.

"Destination: Sector 7, Earth; Arrival Time: 7 hours and 6 minutes."

Wow, had she been sleeping that long? That whole escaping thing must worn her out. Then again, she had spent the first three hours of the trip gorging on what little bread, crackers, and water she had, and had spent some time writing in her diary. She had a dull hope, that someday, her diary would be read by other slaves and that they'd consider it their bible. She hoped they would follow in her footsteps, reading about the way she escaped, understanding that they had the power of escaping as well.

Time would only tell, and with each passing minute, she was nearing ever so closer to her new home.

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"Are the pods ready?"

Commander Semuld bowed deeply. "Yes, Prince Vegeta."

Vegeta regarded Semuld with a curt nod, signaling him the right to straighten. His bad mood from the previous night had lightened slightly, after hearing of the Dragon Balls. Though he wouldn't admit it, he was actually kind of excited now. Maybe he'd even get to have a little fun with the inhabitants. He smirked suddenly. Perhaps this won't be so boring after all.

He was actually sort of impressed as well, with the slave girl's bold, yet foolish action. She had either had some admirable skills, or just some damn good luck. Either way, it was a mystery to him how the hell she had made it past two Second Class guards, and one of most powerful Commanders on the planet.

Finding her would be one of his top priorities. They'd described her pretty well he supposed; she supposedly had thin, blue hair that fell to her shoulders, she was fairly short in height, and had bright sapphire eyes. She wouldn't be too hard to find, right? That is, unless every other inhabitant were to have blue hair and blue eyes, too, and he sure hoped that wasn't the case. They were also currently attempting to figure out the fugitive's name, asking fellow slaves of their knowledge of the bold scientist, and they planned to report it to him as soon as possible.

Absentmindedly Vegeta climbed into the pod, watching just before the hatchet shut as Kitser climbed into the one beside him, shooting the Prince a quick, disgusting grin. The Saiyan relaxed as he let himself adjust to the cool, calm darkness of the space-pod, hearkening to the sound of the computer in front of him.

"Launching in 5 seconds: 5 . . .4 . . .3 . . .2 . . .

The last number was drowned out by the abrupt rush of speed as it launched into space, the pressure like forceful hands pushing the Prince back into the seat.

It was going to be a long trip.

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Bulma hadn't been in the Science Wing that day.

Mark wondered with mild concern if perhaps she was ill. But she looked fine yesterday.

Wanting to make sure she was okay, after work hours ended, Mark made his way down to Bulma's dorm, stopping before her door. Here he was— Bulma's room. Mark had a crush on the blue-haired scientist since the first day he'd been there, secretly wishing he could be brave enough to confront her and tell her how he felt. He knew it was near impossible to form a strong relationship on a planet such as Vegeta, but he hadn't cared; he'd wanted to live the rest of his enslaved life with her. He'd been baffled by her beauty.

And now things were finally starting to look up for him, too, save for the interesting dinner date they had a few nights ago. He felt confident that she had feelings for him, too; the way she'd blush when ever he'd complimented or greeted her in the hallway.

Suddenly nervous, Mark cleared his throat as he knocked on the door. "Uh— hello? Bulma? It's me: Mark."

No answer.

"Are you there?"

Still, nothing.

Mark leaned back in surprise. She must have been extremely ill for her not to answer, not even in a hoarse whisper. Come to think of it, Bulma was seldom sick; she'd said so once when an exotic flu had been spreading among slave quarters. A flu he had caught by the way. He shuddered from the sudden flashback: a great deal of excessive vomiting which left the victim crippled to the point they couldn't even lift a finger. But alas, Bulma had been one of the only ones who hadn't caught it. And nothing that he knew of was going around presently.

What if something bad had happened? Had she gotten hurt in some way? Like a broken bone or something?

Again Mark knocked on the door, a bit more urgently. "Bulma! Bulma, are you hurt!" Still no acknowledgment. Before he realized it, Mark's taps turned to pounds upon the metal surface. "That's it, I'm coming in, whether you like it or not!"

As the door slid open, he rushed in to be greeted by an empty room. Breathing heavily he scanned the dorm, noting with potential fear how the night stand had been knocked deliberately over and the bed sheets hung off the edge of the mattress, creating a pool of navy blue upon the floor.

"What the hell happened?" He wondered aloud, his heart thumping against his chest when the worst came to mind. Stubbornly he pushing the theory of death away. No— no—. She wasn't— couldn't be dead. They would have cleared her dorm out by now; would have already filled it with the necessities for the next slave that would be moving in.

Rapidly his thoughts slurred together in panic. Taking deep breaths, he told himself to calm down and do what he was on that planet to do: think. Think God dammit. Now, her room wasn't cleared out so she's not dead— she didn't show up for work today— so that must mean—

She was in the Health Wing, with Dr. Kett. Or that Nappa guy got her. No— no! He wouldn't believe the second one. For now he'd just worry about her being in the Health Wing; he didn't think he could take imagining her limp body on that Saiyan's bed. Hurriedly he exited the room and sprinted down the hall toward the Health Wing. She must have injured herself somehow and had gone to get treatment, unaware of how frantic she'd cause Mark to become.

When Mark buffeted upon the door, Dr. Kett granted him access, regarding him with arched brows as he leaned over to catch his breath. "Where's— Bulma? I can't— find her— anywhere," he wheezed, having initially intended to sound intimidating, but failing miserably.

The doctor's brows furrowed and his frown deepened. "She didn't tell you," he said gravely, his eyes losing their usual brightness.

Mark stopped breathing. "Tell me what?"

Stealthily his eyes shifted from side to side, as if to see if anyone were eavesdropping. He then leaned close to Mark, staring him straight in the eye. "Bulma made an escape."

Mark nearly choked on his own saliva. "What!" he croaked loudly, drawing back with shock evident on his face.

"Shh!" Kett looked around again. "Keep your voice down! There's an Emergency Wing connected directly to the room. The walls maybe sound proof, but the doors aren't!"

"I will not keep my voice down!" Mark bellowed angrily, shaking Kett vigorously by the shoulders. "I know you're lying! What have you done to Bulma! Where are you keeping her!"

Dizzily Kett took hold of the hysteric human, holding him tightly by the arms as he bared his teeth. "I'm not lying!" he growled in a low whisper. "She made an escape! She came to me a few days ago telling me she was going to hack into their system to steal a space-pod! I didn't think she'd actually go through with it but I guess she already has seeing as you can't seem to find her anywhere, can you!"

Mark stood completely still, stunned as he observed the doctor's face turn a shade of red from lack of inhale between his sentences.

"So—,"

Startled Kett and Mark whipped around, both feeling their life-spans shorten ten years as they laid their mortified eyes upon Commander Semuld. He stood leisurely in the doorway connecting the Emergency Wing to the Health Wing, his lips pursed in disgust and rage. "You knew."

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This was not how she imagined the landing.

As the computer had announced their arrival, Bulma found herself imagining wheels or something to make their contact smooth. She was appalled when instead, she found herself in the midst of a powerful quake. Mercilessly she was thrust back into the chair as the pod collided roughly with the Earth's surface. With difficulty she peered out the window, witnessing brown rock spewing up from under the small ship, blocking her view.

When it was over, she held her head steady to cease the spinning.

"Destination: Complete; Arrival Time: 0 hours and 0 minutes."

Shakily she climbed out, squinting through her blurry vision, desperate to see her home. As the dust cleared, she couldn't help but feel a bit discouraged at the sight of the crater the pod had produced. But she knew, and determined she told herself that above the crater would be heaven, the heaven she had longed for her entire her life.

And when she climbed and stumbled her way over that crater, she emitted an involuntary laugh as she laid her eyes upon exactly what Mark had told her: fields. Vast, green fields that stretched for miles until they collided with something else that made Bulma's jaw drop.

She could see clusters of cluttered skyscrapers that soared high into the blue sky. The blue sky. The sky was blue! With fluffy, white clouds! And one, yellow sun that shone as bright as a light bulb, casting its encouraging, optimistic glow upon the enormous city.

Carefree she rolled her head back as laughter tumbled out of her uncontrollably. "I'm here," she whispered softly, her vision blurring with elated tears. "I'm really here."

She couldn't believe it. She'd actually survived. She was now free to see and go and do whatever she felt like doing. She'd freed herself from the shackles of slavery that she'd lived with her entire life. She'd made it.

Home sweet home.

A/N: PLEASE REVIEW! Sorry folks, I had a small case of writer's block with this chap. Oh well, life goes on!