Chapter 2 - Adrift
[TW medical description, adult themes]
"Triple nine, first aid kit," she spoke, her voice clear, but with a bite of pain. The entire wall of cabinets on one side of the spacious sterile field illuminated, the frost on the glass fading to a clear shine. A steady but low hum accompanied the change in ambiance. She struggled to reach for the preloaded quick-shot syringe with her left hand, bringing the needle end of the anaesthetic device up to the medical port on the wrist. After the sudden sting of the initial prick subsides, a welcoming absence of pain swept down the appendage. As the pain subsided well enough but not completely, the first thing she did was to take a sample of the mysterious blue substance that the glowing creature had used to balm her injury.
Triple clicks of the button under the visor and the suit retracted, albeit jerkily with a loud snap; panels detaching and sliding under the one above in an upward cascade until all that was left was the long sleeved glove-like device that just so happened to be her injured hand. The entirety of the suit retracting with great difficulty at the very end, the panels no doubt warped from the powerful stomp. She winced, already assessing the damage in her head, mentally compiling a to-do list in order to get the suit back in working order. Work that will most likely be delayed, from the feel of her injuries. A dull ache from moving her left shoulder followed, and she knew that as the adrenaline fades out completely, she would know once again the ache and sting mending flesh brings in the dead of night. When it came time to pull her hand out, she winced and sucked through her teeth. She knew it would be painful, but looking at the exposed dermis made her shiver.
"Partial thickness burns, but that's to be expected," she noted, looking at her hand up close. The cut on her shoulder seemed to have stopped bleeding, the blood that had dripped down her chest and back now slowly drying into a red patina. The right side of her face felt hot and throbbed with a dull ache. Her entire midsection felt sore, and it was no surprise that she saw a massive bruise right where the liver should be as she peaked beneath her clothing after awkwardly zipping off her jumpsuit.
Before she could think of where to begin with patching herself up, a loud commotion from somewhere else in the room caught her notice. It seemed that the passengers she picked up hadn't waited for her to set the broken arm. She stared at them, wide eyed. "Let me dress my hand first, and then I'll help you." Without waiting for them to acknowledge her offer, she gathered all the supplies that she needed, tossing them onto the counter into a small pile; saline, gauze, scissors, bandages, anaesthetic, antibiotics, staples. She looked at them and gestured to the supplies and and said, "Help yourself to whatever you need."
The one before her stood over 2 meters tall, bald headed, thick limbed and just as broad, his equally tall companion now laid prone on the gurney in the center of the room, a trail of blood betraying their path from the doors. Recognizing the gesture but weary of the intention, he turned to the more compactly built of the three, the one with a pine-shaped hair and prominent widow's peak. Wordlessly, and without breaking eye contact he nodded, and with speed, the obvious subordinate raided the supply pile and quickly found what he needed. The leading man of the pack, him with the all too obvious glare, soon went to scour for medical supplies for himself, his distrustful eyes seemingly always trained on their unexpected companion. The absolute nerve of him, looking at her as though she hadn't just saved them all from certain death.
The room seemed quiet, but there was an undercurrent of energy about the place, each one of them focused on their task. Picking bits of debris from raw and exposed dermis, the splinting of limbs, and the repair of a traumatic open abdomen made for a sombre mood. As she slipped a bio-cuff around her arm, she happened to catch a glimpse of the abdominal injury, and the face of the one injured. Sure, he seemed as tall as the one now working on him, but it wasn't his height that caught her eye. He had a head full of hair that seemed longer than anything she had ever seen before. Not wanting to gawk, she began the process of tending to her most immediate injury instead.
By the time she was done with the debridement and bandaging of her hand and shoulder, she saw that the bald one had just about finished cleaning and packing his friend's entrails back where they belonged. All that was left was to close the wound. She grabbed a surgical staple and handed it to him. He regarded the item for a moment before taking it from her, the device looking strangely small in his big hands. She walked up to the silent one with the broken arm as he fiddled with the splint-sleeve and said, "I should probably take an x-ray of that, see if the bone needs repairing." He said nothing, staring at her with an intense gaze, and the moment she caught sight of his tail which had slowly unraveled from around his waist, she understood that these people were very much indeed otherworldly. She glanced back at the others, and noted that they also had tails.
"So… what do I call you, by the way?" She cocked her head and crossed her arms carefully across her chest. Injured and unarmed, she stood before him as vulnerable as any of his hapless preys before, but unyielding in her commanding presence. The fact that she had indeed rescued his reckless ass and those of his only remaining companions in the entire galaxy was enough to humble his spirits at the very least, though he was loathe to admit it.
"Vegeta." The sound of his voice sounded human enough, despite the tail now slowly flickering behind him. It was sonorous, a deep baritone with no obvious accent. His battle armor seemed worn, the fabric of his uniform almost threadbare. He had an angular face, severe, but aristocratic. His solid physique and worn armor all but announced that battle toil was his life's occupation. His hands, now free of the white gloves, seemed calloused and worn. His gaze seemed casual enough, but the eyes see everything, and were now trained on her unflinchingly.
"Nice to meet you, Vegeta. My name is Bulma. Welcome aboard the Helianthus," she replied, smiling. The smell of her blood and dried tears filled his nose and he involuntarily inhaled, his olfactory senses finding it to be sharp, but agreeable. He looked away for a moment, wrestling with the wariness he felt towards her. She was very unlike them, and yet, she did not seem too foreign. He looked at her as though to reconcile the fact that their mystery rescuer could ever look the way she did. Whatever he imagined, not once could he ever imagine such a head full of provocative teal. The side of her face that bore the brunt of that vicious punch had bruised, its blues and reds a deep contrast to her complexion. She stared back with equal intensity, refusing to be outdone, and it unsettled him. Trying to escape those blue eyes, he looked to his companion who was now staring while pretending to continue working.
"She asks for your name, you dimwitted fool," Vegeta grumbled at his subordinate in an alien language, prompting him to introduce himself.
"I'm Nappa," he said, fist to his chest as a greeting gesture. He points the the one still unconscious, though now slowly rousing, and said "This is Raditz." At the sound of his name, Raditz's eyes opened wide, and he sat up with a start, disoriented with the new surrounding. He looked puzzled more than anything, but the disdain in his eyes towards Vegeta was palpable. Nappa, on the other hand, remained neutral. Whatever it was that transpired, at least one of them was dragged into the situation unwillingly. She heard Raditz say something, but she couldn't understand a single word. Their native tongue, she surmised, taking note of how richly complex it sounded, and how effortless their speech flowed. The tone of conversation seemed pointed, with Nappa seemingly mediating between the two arguing. The rising volume of conversation and rigid body language brought on a tense atmosphere. That was as much as she could glean from the interaction between her alien passengers.
While the three of them were busy with whatever business they had, Bulma reached for the capsule in the front pocket of her overall, and with a twist, a tablet device appeared. Logging in, she scrolled through the incoming stream of data. Something caught her eye, and she clicked on a small thumbnail image. With an upwards swipe, the empty wall lit up with the projection of images. A familiar sight of battle on an open field, an explosion. Her on screen in the exo-suit as the blue giant caught up with her and engaged her in combat. The argument among the three men ceased as they saw the footage. More tapping on the tablet, and she played a video report from the very same alien that she had encountered, his skin charred black with patches of dark blue around his neck, speaking an alien language that sounded guttural and harsh. Her hands never stopped working as she plugged the audio through to the universal translator, the caption accompanying the video reading as follows:
"…have engaged an unknown enemy in combat while we attempted to retrieve the Saiyans. Their weapons capability were unexpectedly more advance. Elite Officer Guldo has been slain, and Elite Officers Jiece and Recoome are fortunate to have survived. They will spend time in the healing [vessels/containers] before rejoining us in the upcoming mission. We pursued the enemy vessel but lost track of them beyond solar object A01-9983-824. We vow that will seek out the agitator responsible for slaying Elite personnel Guldo, and we will bring them and the Saiyans to your feet. Upon my life, I pledge this. Glory to the Cold, glory to the Empire!"
"Burta. Tch, that lech." Seeing the blue colossus looking a little crispy around the edges made Vegeta's lips pull up into a sneer. 'Good, I hope it hurts everywhere and scars you permanently,' he thought venomously. Nappa and Raditz looked sombre after hearing the report, both staring contemplatively at the screen.
'An 'agitator'; they called me. 'AGITATOR!' She stilled, staring at the screen in disbelief. She knew very well that her survival depended on her not stepping on the Cold's toes. An element of stealth was necessary in order to avoid conflict. 'That wasn't very stealthy', she bitterly chastised her self. She knew that it was only a matter of time before she would cross their path, though she never imagined it quite like this. She had killed an Elite soldier, and now the Empire was on the active look out for her. Dread plucked at her spine as she recalled her very recent encounter with the Elites; the shock from when she saw him suddenly appear before her, the panic when he had her beneath his crushing stomp, and how lucky she was to have escaped them, scathed as she was. The thought that they were now actively searching for her seemed absolutely terrifying.
"You killed Guldo." Not one to beat around the bush, this one. She merely blinked at him. At the mention of that name, Nappa and Raditz looked at one another, and then to her, whispering speculations.
"Killed?" Raditz parroted in confusion.
"The explosive device - that was her!" Nappa murmured, seemingly in awe.
"Huh?" she replied, dazedly. She barely registered the question, her ears ringing and pounding at the same time, her senses slowly overloading. She took a deep breath, focusing her vision onto the screen, unable to tear her eyes away from the word 'agitator' in the caption stream.
"The one you… exploded." His stare never eased. Nappa and Raditz murmured to one another as they scrutinized her with greater intensity. Their words inaudible to her human ears, but not to his. He turned his head towards them and bared his teeth, frowning, as though to signal to them to quiet down, both complying, albeit begrudgingly, with Raditz muttering a curse under his breath.
"Oh. Guldo." The name sounded strange on her tongue; the name of a person who was now dead. She killed him. With weapons she had made. The gravity of the situation slowly pulled on her, and she could feel her limbs grow heavier.
"I'd ask you how you were able to access this information, but from what I've seen so far, I doubt I'd be surprised," Vegeta spoke. The casual observers continued in their silent communications, assessing her. Before their scouters were confiscated, her power reading had registered at a mere 1, similar to that of a small domestic creature. Realistically, she should have died on that asteroid. And yet, on top of having saved them from their predicament, much to Vegeta's chagrin, the woman had managed to slay an Elite soldier, a feat that none of them had managed thus far.
"I have my ways," she replied cryptically. 'Breathe, just breathe,'she reminded herself. No sense in panicking, not just yet. Regardless, it did not slow the sense of vertigo that threatened to consume her.
Between the blood loss, the fact that she exploded someone to death, and shock of seeing herself being mentioned (and recorded!) in a classified report, she could feel herself become light headed and unsteady. The bio-cuff beeped; '! blood pressure warning - 96/64 ! BPM 138 !' She felt herself labour for breath, and her sense of balance started to give out. She grabbed onto the counter top and leaned for balance, her vision slowly fading. Trying not to hyper-ventilate, she counted slowly, and with each count, she focused her thought on what she needed next. She looked at the cabinet where the IV bags were. Shakily, she tapped on the cuff. 'automatic IV port installation - ...complete - please attach drip feed.' Refusing to succumb, she jerkily stepped towards the cabinet, her eyes on the IV bags. She managed to grab a drip line before sliding down against the cabinet doors, smearing it red.
"Emergency scan, initiate." Her mouth spoke the words, but her voice sounded distant. Her hands were moving automatically, attaching the drip feed to the IV port. A device at the center ceiling attachment extended, aimed towards her and beeped: 'Liver laceration detected - minimal internal bleeding - Recommend detail scan for closer assessment. …Extensive contusion detected. …Estimated severity of blood loss: …moderate.' She reached up towards the drawers for a preloaded syringe, this time filled with clotting agent, and jabbed it into her leg. Cold sweat pricked the back of her neck, the taste of blood and the sting inside her mouth smarting as she sat there in a state of shock. All the while, three pairs of eyes watched, disbelieving that this weakling alien who now sat shivering on the floor had been the one to rescue them from dying on a nameless rock.
She looked over at Raditz, and upon seeing his equally pale visage, motioned to Nappa and spoke, "your comrade… might need some IV fluids too. Judging from the amount of blood he spilled all over my ship." Her eyes once more returned to the trail of red on the floor and followed it to the gurney. Raditz, having taken offence at the offer, scoffed, now staring daggers at her.
"I'm not as weak as you are, fanash," he replied haughtily, swinging his feet over to the side of the gurney and standing up swiftly. It was unfortunate that his blood pressure had been severely affected; almost immediately as he stood up, he lost consciousness. Had it not been for Nappa, it would have been quite a graceless face-plant. Pushing the stubborn fool back onto the gurney, Raditz's limp body landed with a thud, arms hanging off the side of the barely big enough surface, one leg down onto the floor. A faint groan followed after, and Nappa could only roll his eyes.
Bulma sat there against the cabinet and closed her eyes for a moment, steadying her breath, contemplating her next step forward. The IV dripped down the line and slowly, she could feel her blood pressure steady, the clamminess withdrawing from her limbs slowly but surely. She looked back down at her tablet and a reminder notice popped up: "Help Launch with festival prep - DUE: 3 hours."
Immediately she remembered the promise she made to Launch about helping her with repair work, but the presence of three alien passengers onboard might complicate things. Could she trust them not to turn them all over to the Empire if she brought them to their sanctuary? Dilemma upon dilemma weighed on her mind. She couldn't focus with the tense alien conversation that had resumed and escalated. Raditz, despite being injured and on the brink of unconsciousness, seemed determined to pick a fight with Vegeta. The universal translator picked up on the conversation, and it became apparent that whatever quarrel they had with the Elites had been instigated by Vegeta. Something about honour, and how Vegeta couldn't just let it slide.
Not wanting to waste time, she got up off the floor, careful not to faint as her heart rushed in her chest. "Alright, as riveting as this conversation is, I have places I need to be and things that I need to attend to. If there's any place that you'd like me to drop you off, I'd be happy to give you a lift. But I need to get going ASAP." Despite speaking loud and clear, neither one of them seemed to have heard a word. Instead, they continued bickering among themselves. The transcript of the argument continuously streaming on the screen of her tablet.
"I'm sick of being punished for your insubordination!" yelled Raditz, his face almost purple with exertion, which seemed an impressive feat, considering the blood loss.
"You can't possibly understand what it is you ask of me, foot soldier-" Vegeta retorted, his tone venomous.
"Highness, please -" interjected Nappa, but his pleas went unheeded.
"Again you lord your bloodline over me - and you, you insisting on calling him by that meaningless title!"
The sound of the men shouting started to physically hurt, every alien syllable ringing painfully in her ear. Not appreciating the lack of acknowledgement, she spoke louder until her voice escalated into a scream. "HEY! I'M TALKING TO YOU HERE!" The shouting stopped, but the glares that followed seemed burned through her. Nevertheless, she persisted. She was, after all, the captain of this ship. "I have somewhere I need to be, and I need to be there rather urgently. If you're done with whatever it is that the three of you are bickering about, I'd like to get moving. Preferably in separate ways. So, if there's anywhere in mind that you'd like me to drop you off, let me know where that is now that is so I can offload the three of you you ingrates ASAP."
The murderous look on Vegeta's face softened, and his gaze shifted inwards. He turned away from them all and paced towards the walls. Raditz also seemed to simmer down a little. None of them were willing to look her in the eye, save for Nappa, who stood silent, the only one of the three to have kept his composure. He looked at Vegeta, then at Raditz, and back at her. Silence suddenly seemed more painful than the screaming.
"We have nowhere to go, fanash." Nappa's tone a lowered hush. Raditz uttered a string of curses, the tension leaving him as he slumped back down, exhausted. Vegeta stood off to one corner, his back towards the room. The Cold Empire: well renowned for carnage they leave in their wake as they swallowed planets whole for their resources and labour. The destruction upon which the empire stood upon was legendary. Countless worlds left poisoned, while others were blown up entirely, if the Emperor saw fit to do so. Every single race deemed inferior, and demonstrably so; the Cold Imperial Army either eradicated, enslaved, or enlisted by force. Many have risen against them and died, forever erased from the annals of time.
She guessed what they meant, but asked anyway, determined to know the truth. "What exactly do you mean, nowhere?"
Vegeta inhaled sharply and turned his head as though to speak, but not a word escaped him. His fists white knuckled beside him, shaking. 'Nowhere to go' was just as good as 'we're in your good graces as of now.' They were no longer under the Empire's boot, but they were as good as fucked, indebted as they were to the green stranger. Deserting one's duty was about the lowest of crimes as far as he was concerned, but years of subjugation after his people were hunted down and systemically eliminated served only to harden his resolve against the Emperor. Raditz's insistence that he keep his head down despite what their endless taunting infuriated him beyond words. He didn't want to bend the knee to the tyrant king who murdered his people, but after seeing them easily slain by the Elite soldiers until there were all but three of them of the entire Saiyan population, he felt utterly defeated. That was until he recalled what it was that inflamed his rage.
Bits of memory slowly returning to him; Recoome dragging into the room a young alien female with long black hair. She wasn't a Saiyan, but they dressed her in a white gown with a crown on her head. "All hail Queen of Saiyans! The best hole in all of the Cold Empire!" he cajoled, his squad mates Burta and Jiece joining in. Guldo sat in the corner, cackling. A pantomime of cruelty ensued, one where they abused the poor thing with their words, and eventually with their hands.
It was another one of their attempts at provoking him; often they would resort to disparaging his people's culture with slurs and tasteless jokes, enough to get a rise out of the prideful Saiyan, but on that day, they took it a step further and brought a slave in for their sick joke. Just another alien being from a long forgotten world unfortunate enough to have been chosen for their twisted games. Often when provoked, Vegeta would strike back at them immediately, only to be outnumbered and outmatched, which resulted in him and the rest of his people punished. This time, however, he walked away.
He remembered very little of the time that passed after, nor did he recall how many hours or even days passed, but he did remembered happening upon the opportunity to even out the playing field when Recoome walked pass him, alone. He hadn't planned on doing anything, but when Recoome said to him "you should have stayed with us for the fun, Vegeta. She sounded just like your mother. Ah, what fond memories," before laughing a belly aching laugh, head thrown back and everything.
It was an indignity that he could not let go of. What little precious memories he had of her, he guarded fiercely, to the point of never mentioning her again. He craved satisfaction, and so he reacted. That was when he tackled Recoome into the escape pod with the intent of taking him down in a flaming blaze, his own life be damned. It almost ended with them getting them all killed. Fortunately for them, they escaped, with help from the woman.
"We have nothing to return to," Vegeta spoke, the memory of events past flickering in his mind's eye. Burta's face on the wall screen stood frozen. He stared at it, recalling every jab at his pride as well as the retaliatory blows that begets another. A shame he wasn't able to kill them as he imagined many times over. Shame, indeed; the pain of his broken arm flaming his humiliation, signifying his defeat physically.
"We wouldn't be hunted like we are now if you'd have just kept your hands to yourself, but you keep letting them fuck with you. And now we're here, and we might as well be dead," a subdued Raditz chimed in, unable to look at the woman either. His abdominal injury was relatively well repaired, but the large scar it will leave would add another to the scores of many that he carries.
Nappa seemed exasperated, though he remained silent, unable to quell the fire between the two younger Saiyans. The damage is done. Insult upon injury being that they would not have survived the ordeal if it weren't for Bulma, who now stood staring at them, bruised, bloodied, and bleeding. Unnaturally so, Nappa thought; often, Saiyans would only bruise and bleed as severely when dealt with near death blows. She must be very weak indeed, having looked so sickly after the few blows Burta dealt her.
Wanting to retort but having nothing to say, Vegeta turned on his heel and swiftly headed for the doors.
"Highness, if I may-" spoke Nappa, but was ignored. The doors opened and after he passed through with a huff, closed behind him with a silent ease. He sighed, looked over at Bulma, wide eyed with unspoken curiosity. This was more than she bargained for when letting her missile device loose onto the Elites.
She had no reason to keep them around. Parting ways with three of the most hunted deserters would be the wisest course of action. Leaving them off at one of the few outposts in between here and her priority destination would be the the smart thing to do. The downside to that was there were no guarantees that they wouldn't give her up to the Empire trying to get back into the tyrant Emperor's good graces. As it were, they were stuck with her, whether she liked it or not. Not her first time with passengers on board, but the first time where mutual rescue was involved to such a degree.
She looked at Raditz, at Nappa, and at the doors, and wondered about the history of their circumstances. Presently, all she saw were a conflicted trio of soldiers, at odds with the Empire, without a home to return to. Briefly, she thought of her home planet, and ached for the comfort of familiar surroundings. Though not completely destroyed, Earth stands a better chance of surviving if she were not home as of now, especially now that the Empire sought her out.
"We have nothing to return to," she heard him say. Knitting her brows, she could only imagine what that must have been like. The trail of blood on the floor triggered a feeling of unease.
"Deploy cleaner bots. Gravity adjustment, zero point three Gs ship wide," she spoke; the computer chimed an acknowledgement, and everything felt lighter in an instant. A panel at the bottom corner of the room opened and out whirred a round robot, ready to clean up the mess. With ease, stepped forward, swaying still, but with better control. "I trust that you won't be any trouble if I let you stay onboard."
Raditz muttered a curse and rolled his eyes. Nappa, ever dutiful, bowed his head once more, deeply this time, and assured her, "we will not trouble you any further. Harbas genoki, fanash." A caption that read "thank you kindly, [lady/woman]" appeared on her tablet's translation stream. She smiled at the gentle giant before heading off to find Vegeta.
End Chapter 2