Space Station: Planet No. 150
Vegeta took no pleasure from having exhaustive knowledge of Frieza's previously colonized planets. Being reminded of those enslaved, corrupted, and murdered haunted him, despite the unparalleled happiness he felt now as a devoted father and husband on Earth.
He helped his wife Bulma map the outskirts of Universe Seven previously unknown to some other mortals - beyond the various lower-level gods who monitored the living beings within their respective quadrants. Though largely passive, these deities stepped up occasionally to protect their interests, guiding the strongest warriors and mystics to defend their own well-being and future preservation. However, neither group was immune to evil's hypnotic, euphoric trance. Several had been overtaken and exacted the most damage possible in their insatiable thirst for power and ultimate dominance.
Frieza and his despicable clan had been one.
Vegeta had been a power-seeker somewhere in the middle, soldiering within the tyrant's intergalactic army from early childhood. The lives he ruined – annihilated - during Frieza's reign of terror probably would have said otherwise, though. Frieza's psychopathic conditioning of a lone boy prince almost had been successful. He arrogantly considered himself the wily "godfather," injecting his cancerous hatred into Vegeta across decades, and attempting to bend the prince's defiant Saiyan genes to fulfill ignoble aims.
Those genes finally proved resilient as the prince rebelled, channeling pride and hope to avenge his murdered father and destroyed planet before insanity and despair consumed him. He got retribution for Frieza's offenses, but the cost had been high at first.
Several years passed before he found his way, when love and friends on his adopted planet smoothed the painful, roughened path to his soul.
He had succeeded, becoming one of the greatest fighters and defenders the universe had known, ever, to mortals and deities. Recognizing what they had, the gods offered grace, allowing Vegeta to atone for his wounded past - and to grow stronger.
He healed.
Many beings never would know about his foregone life, except for the nameless combatants and innocents he met as a much younger and unhappier man. They did not know his name. Perhaps they learned in death. He now hoped his good works offered light, supporting the decedents' journeys to new lives or, if they chose, helping them to remain in Otherworld.
Having witnessed hell himself - both dead and alive - he intimately understood that light's influence. He always would be an unrepentant junkyard fighter, though –- and the world's most devastating trash-talker, next to his wife.
"Is there a problem, commander? You seem preoccupied."
Vegeta didn't face the young man, a junior engineer, choosing instead to keep his piercing gaze on the spaceship's view screen. "Where is my daughter?" The question rolled slowly from his mouth, indicating where his mind had been for a while.
"Lieutenant Brief is in the captain's private quarters for a meeting," said the man, feeling hopeful that Vegeta would notice his concern. Everyone called him Erick, shortened from "Erickson."
"Hn."
"Sir?"
Vegeta's eyes closed. "Boy, I am neither distracted nor interested in your feeble attempt to suck up to me," he said, deepening his voice. "Everyone here knows you're smitten with Bulla - except for her, which doesn't surprise me. If you value your life, take the straight route with her and leave me out of it. Got it?"
Embarrassed, Erick blushed. "Sir, I only was…"
Vegeta paused to collect himself. His reflection on the ship's mirrored motherboard had betrayed him. Tiny worry lines spread like a spider's legs around his eyes. Erick sensed his unease, for sure, but the prince sure as hell didn't want him to witness it up close.
"Keep a night light in your cabin," he said, turning around. "My daughter might kill you in your sleep once she discovers what you're up to –- and then incinerate you for fun. She's quite good at that, actually."
Erick nodded. "Yes, sir."
This kid doesn't have a chance in hell with her if he keeps this up, Vegeta thought. I can't do what he won't for himself. "Gods, you're an idiot. Erick, we are leaving in an hour. If you're not gone in three seconds, consider yourself removed from my team indefinitely. Your chief engineer has picked several non-glamorous jobs for those who annoy me."
"Yes, sir," Erick said as Vegeta looked past him. Only one person could make the commander's stern black eyes ignite with an unmistakable pride. Having permanently lost the prince's interest, the modest young man smiled and moved aside.
Lieutenant Junior Grade Bulla Brief strolled through the ship's bridge with an easy confidence. Her short, feathered lavender hair accentuated handsome facial features. She had Vegeta's elevated cheekbones and magisterial nose. Her sparkling blue eyes and upbeat smile - reminiscent of her mother - were magnetic.
Bulla also towered over her father, though their equally imposing personalities sometimes blurred the visible difference. Their closeness and respect for each other were admired by their peers. Ironically, of the two, Vegeta's interactions with shipmates were more relaxed. Erick correctly attributed this to the Saiyan prince's advanced age and life experience; the man had nothing to prove now.
Bulla had other potential suitors, but most considered any pursuit to be suicidal while Vegeta traveled on board. Though considered the quietest man on the ship, Erick had been the bravest – and, contrary to Vegeta's belief, Bulla had noticed. Nevertheless, her formidable "papa" was the platinum standard. Dealing with her meant having characteristics like him.
She had a list.
So far, introversion and intelligence had been it for Erick. He had no extraordinary fighting abilities or powers, but his inquisitive industriousness caught the prince's understated attention early. Vegeta recognized a promising talent that could match his wife's sensational engineering skills.
Like him, Bulla donned a crisp black-and-silver planetary exploration suit. Realizing her intentions, Vegeta silently sized her up. Erick did too. Bulla grinned with smug amusement as the young man frowned and left.
Vegeta pivoted, expecting her to follow him into another room. They stood on opposite ends of a large conference table, staring down each other. Bulla placed her palms on top, facing her father, and leaned forward.
"Commander, please, just hear me out-"
"Absolutely not!" Vegeta said angrily. "Absolutely not, lieutenant. I don't run this ship, but the captain never ignores my expressed wishes. I specifically said you aren't doing reconnaissance with my team."
Frustrated, Bulla looked at the ceiling. "I didn't try to go over your head in the way you think, papa."
"And what way is that? The result seems clear to me."
"Damn it!" Bulla's emotions were divided between anger and wondering if Vegeta was taking her ambitions seriously. "You are being unfair. I have earned this opportunity. If you weren't here, I would be on the mission anyway."
"But I am here," Vegeta said, "and I have enough people. You have my full support to enter another lion's den in the future, after clearing it with your direct superiors. Militaries have a chain of command for a reason."
"As if you always follow the rules," Bulla grunted. "I learned the fine art of breaking them from you. A better explanation would be helpful. I bet mom could force one out of you."
"That might take a while," Vegeta said dryly. "We're in deep space, and I'm sure Bulma is loving her vacation from me. You have no recourse."
Bulla smiled. "You miss her, papa – a lot."
"Always." Vegeta tapped on the table, reflecting more. "I think about her... every day. When I hear you, I am reminded up close."
Thank you for reading! This is a one-shot story, so there will be no new chapters. Leaving comments is appreciated, though!