Chapter 11

Bulma flipped switches once the green light by the 'full' indicator blinked on. Vegeta sat down behind the pilot's console, cracking white-gloved fingers. Black eyes the color of a starless night gleamed with intense anticipation. He clipped the seatbelt around his hips and shoulders, then gestured to Bulma to take the co pilot's seat. Within the spherical ship, the flight deck sat on the highest level. A semicircular strip of window afforded a view outside, while large banks of monitors revealed other parts of the ship. On the level below them were the living quarters with kitchen and supply rooms. In the middle level were three or four cabins complete with bunks and various beds, along with clothing lockers. Opposite were the GR chamber, and a gym. Below that where the ship curved inwards were the improvised miniship hanger and several storage rooms. Within the lowest few levels stretched the antigravity and solid rocket fuel engines with maintenance chambers.

"Vegeta…" she asked.

"What?"

"Are you absolutely sure that the Red Ribbon army… found a Saiyan space pod… and used it as a prototype? I mean this ship could almost be a Saiyan craft… parts of it look like the one we ran into on Namek…"

"This should convince you, woman," said Vegeta, punching buttons on a computer screen. "Here are computer records… and specifications as to what was being developed at that base…"

"I was wondering why we haven't found evidence of those androids… I mean we do know the Red Ribbon army is supposed to have built them… according to that kid from the future…"

"Hmm, well that's why I was surprised by this… insult… as much as any of you fools," Vegeta said.

Bulma's eyes scanned through the records quickly. With each passing sentence she learned things that made it more obvious why Vegeta was so singularly focussed on his goal. "Okay… it says here that they found a small pod… about ten years ago like you said… but the dimensions given here match those of a child…"

"About six or seven of your years in age?" said Vegeta.

"Yeah… and they found it not far from where I first met Goku…" Bulma said, shaking her head. "Wait… then that means they found the ship that Goku…"

"Crash-landed on your planet, yes," said Vegeta with an odd smirk. Humor gleamed in his midnight black eyes. "Wouldn't this be the ultimate irony, that the technology allowing me to become Super Saiyan was because of Kakkarot's mistakes…"

"So… they HAD the prototype?" Bulma shivered. "But that means…"

"Who knows what other technology they had access to. Saiyajin technology could have been the boost they needed to develop those tin cans… we used androids… organic ones."

"Those saibamen," she remembered, shivering at the thought.

"And training bots," said Vegeta. "It makes me nauseous to think something from my culture would be used by those cowards."

"But if it was just Goku's ship… what could they learn from old space equipment about building androids?"

"There was more than just his leftover equipment, woman," said Vegeta, walking over to a small locker. He opened the storage container, which hissed with compressed air. In his hands he held an old style scouter, identical to the one that she'd seen him wear first on Namek, a suit of small armor, and multiple gleaming discs and flat pieces of plastic.

"That belonged to Goku I take it… and they had their hands on it… but they wouldn't have learned any more than I have looking at the technology Radditz and Nappa left behind…"

"Exactly. But that wasn't' all, you silly woman. What do you suppose these are? Postcards?" he snorted, shoving the flat pieces of plastic into her hands. She turned them over in the light, seeing bits of circuitry wired into them.

"Solid state… memory devices?" she asked. "But I already know about that technology… it's in almost every Capsule Corps ship…"

"It wasn't what they ARE, it's what's encoded on them, you foolish wench!" Vegeta snorted impatiently. "These are a record… of the last few months of my planet's existence… and all the research that his third class father undertook…"

"Bardock?"

"Yes, woman! He invented the artificial moons." Vegeta snorted, banging his fist on the console. Fortunately not hard enough to cause any damage.

"Why tell me?" she asked.

"Because you offered your services," Vegeta said, inches from her face. He leaned over her chair, panting heavily with anger and outrage that had been bottled up for days.

"Vegeta… you can trust me," Bulma said, reaching out to touch his face. Vegeta flinched away as if she'd hit him.

"You shouldn't, you foolish girl," Vegeta grunted, turning away from her. "You're entirely too trusting… and naïve…"

"So? You're more powerful than I am, and you've got plans of your own. I could be a bitch and try and stop you… or I can help you willingly. Whatever you're planning you obviously need my help… so I might as well be in with you 100 percent… provided…"

"What makes you think I expect your willing help?"

"Because you said it yourself… I offered my services to you and you accepted them. Vegeta, this would be a lot easier if you told me your plans… how can I stop you anyway if I'm just a helpless female?"

"Good that you remember your place," Vegeta grunted, turning slightly to look at her. He gracefully lowered himself to sit in the pilot's seat, steepling his fingers.

"So, what ELSE is on these microcircuits… it must be something that's making you itch to get out into space, and it has to do with your planet…" Bulma said. "Some great treasure that you think you'll need to stop the androids?"

"Yes woman. Exactly. A treasure unlike any you'd imagine…" Vegeta said. "The last link to my world… and I'll be damned if someone else gets their hands on it before I do…"

"It's not gold, which would be useless to you unless your currency was based on it," Bulma said. "And it has to have something to do with your desire to find a mate… doesn't' it? Something about the future of your race… as Saiyajins…"

"You know more than you realize. What I'm about to tell you is not to be repeated under pain of death to anyone… if you do, I'll…"

"You'll kill me. I know the score, Vegeta. I'll take your oath because I know you need it," Bulma said quietly. "And because you don't have anyone else to depend on…"

Vegeta opened his mouth to yell at her but Bulma smiled at him, pressing a finger to his lips, "I know Vegeta, you don't like admitting you need help. I promise, that I won't tell a soul, or else you'll blast me into the next dimension… okay? Cross my heart and hope to die…"

"You do swear?" he grunted.

"I have no choice, do I? I'd rather choose willingly, because I think of you… and don't hit me… as a friend…"

"Friendship is for weaklings," he grunted.

"Whatever… just tell me… and if there's some oath I have to take, let's get on with it cause I can't stand the suspense… I've got to know…"

"Very well then. What I need is the last remainder of my race. Bardock, though he was a third class scientist, was brilliant. And if you ever tell Kakkarot…"

"I get the message… go on," Bulma said impatiently. Vegeta spun her chair around, and leaned close so his lips almost tickled her ear. She suppressed a shiver.

"A race bank… containing samples of the prime genes of my people," Vegeta said quietly, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. "Concealed before my planet was destroyed by Freiza…"

"It wasn't hidden on Vejitasei was it? I mean if it was you'd want to use the ship to go there…"

"That's the start. I have a suspicion Freiza somehow might have found out about it… I can't take the chance to let another hour pass without going to look where my planet once was," Vegeta confessed. "There's a chance that it might have been destroyed or found by anyone who happened to pass that way…"

"You're pissed because you think someone's going to steal that last part of who you are, and that's why you're so antsy… Vegeta… you could have told me…" Bulma whispered.

He ignored her statement and droned on, eyes closed and face slightly averted. He said softly, "With the race banks contain a series of circuits that contain the major history and culture tapes of my world. Only a fraction of them were encoded here."

"Vegeta… I want to help you," she said.

"It's all that remains of my world, Bulma. And you realize in helping me find it what you're committing yourself to?" he asked. She blinked at the use of her name. Vegeta was serious, she knew.

"I want to help you find it, Vegeta," Bulma said softly, resting her hand on his cheek. "You don't need to ask me twice…"

"You're too nauseatingly nice, woman," he grumbled. "I did not ask for your trust."

"Well you have it, whether you like it or not, buster," Bulma snorted. "Tough shit for you. You may not WANT it or ask for it, but I'm your friend, asshole. And you can deny it all you want. But that still makes it so."

"Fine, whatever," Vegeta snorted. "Now can we GO?"

"Sure," Bulma nodded.

"I'm going to be sick with all this gushing…"

"Too bad," she grinned. "Cause you're stuck with me… how long will it take to get there?"

"Almost a week," he said. "Which is why I have all possible fuel reserves here…"

"A week… and then if we don't…"

"I've prepared for every eventuality, woman. I've even had some of those ugly clothes you like so much encapsulated in one of the quarters, and outfitted one of the labs for your liking. But don't get too comfortable," he snorted.

"Kami forbid," she giggled. She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. Vegeta recoiled in horror.

"Ugh, what the HELL was that for?" he grunted, rubbing his face and leaping out of his seat. "Keep your disgusting lips to yourself you low class…"

"Honestly you're acting like I BIT you!" Bulma laughed, holding her stomach. "A big bad ass like you afraid of a little kiss!"

"Bleahhh!" Vegeta spat, wiping at his cheek angrily. "I didn't expect you to slobber on me with your nasty human saliva!"

"Big baby," Bulma giggled. "Afraid of a peck on the cheek… I only did it because I'm letting you know I care…"

"I don't want pity, fool."

"Good, cause I'm not pitying you. You aren't worth it," she snorted. "Pity's for weaklings, right?"

"Humph," he nodded. "Glad you realize that."

"As if I did care about an asshole like you," Bulma added, flouncing away from him. "Kuso, blow up at me just cause I touched my lips to his cheek… it's not like I was blasting you with a Kamehameha…"

"Woman, shut up and face me," he interrupted.

"Now what?" she mumbled. "You made it crystal clear you don't want me to care, so I'm trying hard not to…"

"I hate emotions, they're so damn complicated, but you did promise to swear, and there is a formality that must be taken," Vegeta said, shifting uncomfortably as he sat again in the pilot's seat.

"You didn't care for my kiss," she snorted.

"Damn woman," he grunted, grabbing her cheek, and leaning forwards. She yelped as he seized the curve of her sensitive ear between his sharp teeth, and clamped down. Wetness oozed between the canine fangs, accompanied by intermittent pain.

"Ouch, you stupid son of a bitch! Why did you bite me!" she squealed, pushing him away.

"It's a term of understanding, which you obviously find as repulsive as I find your stupid 'kiss on the cheek'," Vegeta smirked, licking her blood from his lips.

"Friendship? I thought only weaklings had friends…"

"Friends are fools. The bite on the ear signifies your agreement to serve me loyally," said Vegeta, coughing. "It's the only thing that I can consider under my customs as coming close to what I asked of you… so don't ask me to put sentiment to it."

"Not you," Bulma shook her head, rubbing her ear. Strangely the blood had stopped within seconds, leaving a small nick where he had clamped down.

"I'm not rabid, human. No more so than you," Vegeta chortled. "And you taste far better than you sometimes smell."

"Ugh… thanks a LOT!" Bulma grumbled. "Don't expect ME to bite your ear you stupid ass!"

"Your peck on the cheek was torture enough… I'm going to have to take an extra hot shower to scrub your spit off my cheek," he taunted.

"What the hell do you guys do when you mate?" she asked. "Wait a minute, I don't want to know…"

"You will if you are to assist me in finding a suitable mate, wench," Vegeta grinned. "Now… enough time wasted…"

The ship was twice as large as Capsule 4, which he had taken to train in, and subsequently all but demolished. Vegeta ran his hand over the smooth console with pride, then glanced back to Bulma. "Are we ready?"

"All systems are go, if that's what you wanted to know," Bulma announced, clipping herself securely into her seat. "Aren't you going to… no wait… don't tell me, Saiyans don't need spacesuits…"

"Exactly, woman," Vegeta nodded. "My bones are ten times more dense…"

"So's your head," Bulma mumbled.

"Once we take off, I'll set the computer to automatic, in case one of us blacks out. All of the shipwide systems will be on auxiliary control, in the event of an unforeseen disaster… in other words… if you screw up, the computer takes over all systems on voice command…"

"Gee thanks for the confidence in me," Bulma glared at him through her helmet.

"Now, are you ready to turn the ship over to my command?" Vegeta asked.

"Here goes nothing," Bulma said. "Computer, activate Saiyajin no Ouiji subcommand file alpha. Route all control functions to following user…"

"Saiyajin no Ouji confirmed code three two beta," Vegeta spoke aloud. "All parameters online. All further commands in event of emergency to be scrambled…"

"Huh?" Bulma asked.

"Nothing you should worry about," Vegeta harrumphed.

"Let's light this candle," Bulma winked.

"Initiate departure," Vegeta commanded. Even when speaking to an inanimate object he was barking commands, Bulma grumbled. What started as a low whine grew into a steady hum, then a vibrating rumble. Beneath her backside the ship seats rattled and vibrated. Liquid fuel rockets burst into life, shoving up against the curved shape of the newly refurbished ship.

Small bits of condensed ice dropped off the lines that disengaged. All around them the complex flared orange, slowly dropping out from under the rising craft. Such an old fashioned method to get the ship into orbit seemed necessary, because the gravity engines could pose a serious risk. Besides, Vegeta did not wish to waste any energy simply taking off. He had grudgingly acknowledged that primitive propulsion means were part of his plan to keep the flight capabilities secret from any would be Red Ribbon spies. All they would detect was a routine Capsule launch like number 4.

Teeth rattling in her head, Bulma squeezed her eyes shut. A crushing weight pressed down more steadily from above in proportion with the acceleration of the ship's liquid fuel engines. For a ship so advanced she was annoyed it rocked like an old amusement park ride. On the edges of her vision the world grew dark. Till the lights ahead curled into one ever decreasing circle. It was as if she were looking through an ever-lengthening tunnel. Her ears grew deaf with the roaring of the engines at full power. Before she knew it, she faded into the gray blackness of unconsciousness.

Minutes or hours later Bulma heard Vegeta's voice calling to her. She blinked heavy eyelids, staring up into a reality studded with sharp dots of blinding light. Just ahead was the forward viewport, with the shifting pass of stars slowly moving. Just under the field of the windows she saw a blue glow shrinking away. Every muscle in her body ached, and she felt flatter than a pancake.

"Woman, we're in orbit, and escaping the gravity well of your paltry planet. Have a nice look at it, and see how puny it is…" Vegeta said, from somewhere to her left.

"Damn Vegeta can you be any more insulting to my home world? The place where your ass inhabits and uses MY inventions?" Bulma mumbled.

"What's wrong with you woman?" Vegeta mumbled.

"I can't move and I hurt like hell, maybe THAT's why I feel like shit," Bulma growled.

"It was only 15 g's, woman. I face one hundred times that and more on a daily basis. If my bones are only ten times as dense, surely your brain can do the math…"

"It's more of an exponential relationship, dork brain," Bulma grumbled, struggling to lift her hand. It was surprisingly easy, and she unclipped her seatbelt to drift partly out of her couch with the effort.

"Haven't activated the artificial gravity. Seems that's screw up number one that you have to fix…" Vegeta snickered.

"Okay, who gives a shit if shipboard gravity isn't working as long as your precious GR is? Can't it wait till I'm recovered from takeoff?" Bulma yelled at him. Then she clasped her head because of the splitting shard of red pain jamming through her conscious mind.

Vegeta's white-gloved hand caught hold of her, then set her upright. Bulma felt her stomach squirm because all of a sudden nothing seemed the right way up. Was the earth falling away at a rapid pace, and was the ceiling really the ceiling, or the floor. Her stomach swam and she covered her mouth. "Oh Kami... I'm gonna be sick…"