Raditz grinned. "I gotta say, it's nice to get out and stretch my legs. It was starting to feel a little claustrophobic in my quarters."

Bulma chuckled as she looked down at her herbal tea, stirring another dollop of honey into it. "And there are worse babysitters than Goku," she said, nodding toward where the commander was seated and keeping a watchful eye from two tables away.

"It's been… interesting," Raditz said after a thoughtful pause. "He doesn't remember anything about the Legacy or… or me." His cheek twitched, and he looked out the window. "He told me about how he was found on a human colony by an old widower who took him in. Said he'd had a bad crash, didn't remember who he was or where he came from. He'd been in stasis for three years, they figured. Sounds about right."

"I know he's glad to have met you, if that helps," Bulma said, reaching out and putting her hand on Raditz's. He pulled away, startled, before he let her stay put.

Raditz looked back toward her, his dark Saiyan gaze hiding the thoughts behind him. "I'm glad to see you again, too."

Bulma's breath caught in her throat, but she smiled. "It's good to see you, too. I don't know how the Legacy is going to manage without one of their key engineers."

"Same way they've managed for the past several weeks," Raditz said facetiously. "Disastrously."

Bulma couldn't help but laugh. The easy-going Saiyan and she had become closer throughout the course of their late-night chats. It felt as though she'd known him for years. The fact that he was Goku's brother really didn't surprise her when she saw just how similar their mannerisms were.

He was one of the first to come see her, along with Goku, once she'd been allowed visitors again.

Vegeta had been one of the last.

"Raditz," she said suddenly, breaking herself out of that train of thought, which could only lead down a dark path right now.

"Mm?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. His mouth was full, and the quizzical expression on his face reminded her of his brother so much that the resemblance was almost uncanny.

"Does everybody aboard the Legacy still adhere to the old Saiyan family traditions?"

"Which ones?" he asked, wiping grease off his mouth with a napkin.

"The ones about… bonding."

Raditz placed his hand over his chest, mock-scandalized. "Ambassador, this is hardly discussion for the dinner table."

Bulma gave him a look, head tilted. "I somehow don't think you really care that much about manners."

Raditz let out a belly laugh, head thrown back. His hair was tied, but it still touched the ground when he leaned. "You humans are so weird," he said. Then he shrugged. "We kind of abandoned it a while ago. On a small ship, they discovered that marriage isn't the most… practical. Though some still do it." He gave her a long, appraising look. "You're looking a lot better than you were in sickbay yesterday."

"Dr. Korin is good at his job, despite his bedside manner," Bulma said. "Though he's trying to make me start a diet regimen that doesn't look very appealing."

Raditz pulled a face that made her laugh. "Yeesh," he said. "Remind me not to get sick." He punctuated his statement with another massive bit of the turkey leg on his plate. "Oh, look, it's his royal highness," he said, waving the now-clean bone toward the door.

Bulma turned to see Vegeta enter with the captain. They spoke to one of the engineers and then glanced over in in her and Raditz's direction.

"Uh-oh, I don't like that look," Raditz muttered.

Bulma raised an eyebrow. "What, you think they're going to recruit your help in engineering this soon? Ha! Like they'd let you near the warp engine."

"If there's one thing I learned in my working life, Bulma, it's that engineering can always use extra hands."

Sure enough, the captain did head their way, but he stopped to speak with Goku instead of walking all the way over. He said something inaudible, and then Goku shook his head.

Bulma and Raditz were silent as they watched the exchange.

Once it was over, Goku ambled over and patted Raditz on the shoulder. "I'm needed elsewhere, and where I go, you go. C'mon," he said, an amiable expression on his face. "It's about time you got to tour the bridge."

While they spoke, Bulma watched Vegeta watching them. His face was stormy, like he couldn't stand the very concept of the other Saiyan being on his ship, talking to his woman. Bulma rolled her eyes, then caught his. They stared wordlessly at each other for a long moment before the captain caught Vegeta's attention again. As they left, Raditz in tow, Vegeta cast another unhappy glance over his shoulder at Bulma.

The envoy was expected to arrive in two days. Bulma and Raditz strategized together to figure out the best way to get Captain Bardock's attention, leaving Vegeta out of the picture. Raditz hadn't managed to tell him about Kakarot, who worked happily on the other side of the room on his own tasks.

"You really couldn't have just blurted it out?" Bulma asked. "You know, first time you got an audience with him after you found out? 'Hey, dad, turns out your other son is on that ship!'"

Raditz shook his head. "Didn't want to get my ass beat any more than I had to. He's very heavy-handed in the way he runs the ship. Doesn't take flak from anybody, including me. Especially me. No one's going to accuse him of nepotism, that's for sure."

Bulma hummed sympathetically. "We'll figure out a way, I'm sure of it. Maybe he'll be proud that Goku is the first officer on such a fine ship."

"If he could see past his prejudice for a damned minute, maybe."

"It doesn't happen overnight. He'll come around eventually."

Raditz poked at the console, narrowing his eyes as he seemed to come up with an idea. "I wonder if we… no. Maybe I could…"

Bulma watched him in fascination. Though built for war, his movements were gentle and precise. He brought a certain attentiveness to everything he was doing, where Bulma had expected brashness. She startled out of her musings by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind her.

"Care to explain why I, the officer assigned to this task, am being excluded from these plans?" Vegeta asked, arms crossed. He stood up to his full height, not that it afforded him much in the way of intimidation next to Raditz's hulking form. But he did bring to the table his entire lifetime of training as a Saiyan royal, and Bulma instinctively shrunk back as he approached.

Vegeta's calculating eyes flickered between her and Raditz, then down to Raditz's hands. "I hope you weren't going to do that without clearing it with me first." He addressed Bulma when he said this, though without the familiarity that had begun to creep into his voice throughout the course of her stay. "It seems that you've already forgotten everything you learned about protocol. Perhaps you should take a refresher."

"Let me guess, Lieutenant, you're going to volunteer to teach?" Bulma said. She could detect his jealousy about how much time she was spending with Raditz. And perhaps she did enjoy toying with his emotions just a little, cruel as it was. Payback was a dish best served cold.

"As I said, it is my assigned task to assist you," he said. "I would appreciate it if you refrained from making my job more difficult."

Raditz threw her a look over Vegeta's shoulder, catching Bulma's eye with a smirk. "Listen, Lieutenant, you might be Royal back on Vegeta-sei, but to me you're just a royal pain in the ass."

Bulma's eyes widened at the brazenness of his statement, and Goku glanced over at them from across the room, eyebrow raised. "Raditz," Bulma chided, hoping to stop him from saying something even more stupid.

Vegeta faced the other Saiyan calmly, which Bulma knew was no small feat for him with his quick temper and prescriptivism to the philosophy of Saiyan pride. "You have a loose tongue for somebody who was just granted asylum," he stated. I'd keep that in check if I were you. Just some friendly, Royal advice."

The threat was veiled, but it was there.

Raditz grinned challengingly at him. "Yes sir, your highness."

Bulma could practically see the dam that held back the floodtide of Vegeta's anger. Deciding she didn't want to be present when all hell broke loose, she exclaimed that she required something from her quarters and departed.

When she returned, Vegeta was nowhere to be found.

"Did you scare him off?" she asked, gripping her padd against her stomach nervously.

Raditz glanced up at her and shrugged. "Nah, I let him say his piece, and he took off."

"Big of you."

"I see what you mean about the stick up his ass. Man is it ever going to be fun to push his buttons."

Bulma put her face in her palm. "Please try not to cause too much trouble. I have enough to worry about."

Raditz shrugged with practiced indifference and turned back to the task at hand. "Then let's figure this sucker out, shall we?"

Bulma stood in the receiving line alongside Captain Roshi and Commander Son when they welcomed the Starfleet representative and the Saiyan High Command member aboard.

"It is good to finally meet you in person," Roshi said, shaking the representative's hand enthusiastically.

Bulma and Goku caught each other's eye, and she gave him a wry smile before turning her attention toward the councilman. She placed her palms flat in the traditional greeting, and he reciprocated by crossing his wrists and placing his palms flat down on hers. They maintained eye contact for an almost uncomfortable length of time before she politely conceded to him and dipped her hands away so that he could move on down the line.

The captain and commander followed suit while Bulma shook the representative's hand. She seemed to be about Bulma's age, if not a little older, and her long indigo hair was pulled back in a flowing ponytail.

As they were shown to their respective quarters, the representative made polite conversation with Bulma. Her voice seemed even higher-pitched in person than it had when they spoke through a viewscreen, but she was nice, and Bulma was glad for the feminine company since Chichi was too busy to visit most days.

She leaned toward Bulma as they neared the end of their walk. "Your captain seems a little… odd," she murmured quietly so that the rest of their party couldn't hear. "He's not like any other Starfleet captain I've ever met."

"He's definitely eccentric, but he's good at what he does," Bulma replied with a shrug. "You get used to him. I've known him since I was fresh out of the academy."

The representative tilted her head and smiled. "I didn't know you went to the academy. Why are you not an officer? If you don't mind my asking."

"I had other goals in life I wanted to pursue," Bulma said. "But my training does come in handy. It's also why Starfleet tends to use me for negotiations when my father is too busy."

The representative stopped. "Wait, who's your father? I don't know you, but I surely must know him if he's an ambassador as well."

Bulma laughed. "I guess my exploits haven't made it back to headquarters, then? My father is Dr. Briefs."

"Oh," the representative said. "I had no idea. I knew he had daughters, but…" she trailed off, giggling and rubbing the back of her head nervously. "Well, I must applaud your work, then. I don't think I could ever make it a habit to be out exploring space and doing what you do. I much prefer to sit behind my desk at my West City office."

"Well, Ms. Kusami, I daresay you're quite brave coming all the way out here."

The representative smiled and turned toward her quarters. "Higher-ups thought I could use a little excitement, I guess. And please, call me Launch."

Bulma was eating a late breakfast with Launch in the mess hall when Raditz walked in, scanning the room and quickly catching her eye.

"Kakarot showed me something called the 'holodeck' today," Raditz said as he approached, excitedly slipping into the empty third seat at Bulma's table. He nodded a brief hello to Launch, who reciprocated the gesture.

"It's incredible. And I can't believe you hid it from me."

Bulma laughed. "I didn't do it intentionally." She glanced at Launch for support, but Launch just giggled and shrugged.

Raditz fiddled with the something on the edge of the table and Bulma attempted to turn back to her plate. This was the first time all day she'd had a moment to relax. She'd spent the morning in meetings with the captain, officers, and their visitors.

But Saiyans were a rambunctious bunch, Bulma knew, unless they were royalty. Raditz practically vibrated in his seat for the next two minutes as the silence stretched out between them. Finally, she gave in and looked up at him.

He was nervously staring at her, mouth half-open as if he were about to speak.

"What is it?" she asked, amused. Bulma watched as Raditz's face flushed a deep crimson and he glanced nervously at Launch, who picked up on Raditz's feelings and excused herself to order something else from the replicator.

As soon as Launch was out of earshot, Raditz leaned in. "The holodeck is private, right? Like people can't just walk in on you?"

"You can set it to do not disturb, but officers have overrides that allow them entry. They only use them in emergencies, though."

"Good, good," Raditz muttered. He glanced up at Launch to see that she was still pondering her choices, and he turned back to Bulma. "Well," he began, fingers tapping against the table and legs bouncing anxiously. He was a bundle of nervous energy, and it was starting to stress Bulma out. "I was wondering if you wanted to… come with me to the holodeck. Kakarot told me you can program a simulation of anything in the computer's database. I'd love to see what Vegeta-sei looks like, we could have dinner, dessert…"

Bulma blinked once, then twice. Was he asking her on a date? "I'd love to. Will your brother be joining us?"

"Well I thought," Raditz said, somehow turning an even darker shade of red, "Since it's an enclosed room, maybe they'd make do with a couple of security officers outside the door so it could be just the two of us." He looked away briefly to collect himself before turning back toward her. "So what do you say?"

Throughout all of this, Bulma managed to keep her expression as neutral as possible, even if she could feel her own cheeks heating up a little. "Dinner on Vegeta-sei sounds great," she said just as lieutenant Vegeta happened to walk by.

Bulma startled awake to an urgent chiming at her door. She stood, put on her robe, and padded to the control panel. "Vegeta?" she yawned sleepily as she pushed the button to open the door. "It's the middle of the night. What do you want?"

"Are you alone?" Vegeta replied in a tone that made obvious he thought she wasn't. He tried glancing into her quarters, but she blocked his gaze with her body.

Bulma rubbed her eyes and yawned. "Of course I'm alone. I was sleeping. What do you want?"

"Tch," he said, looking away. He wore his off-duty uniform as though he'd hastily put it on-like he didn't expect anybody to see him in it. "Sleeping. Right. So how was your little holodeck jaunt? Is he to claim you as his mate now, too?"

"What the fu- Vegeta, what the hell," Bulma cried out once she realized who 'he' was, affronted that he'd even suggest such a notion. What nerve! And he found her crude!

"Bulma!" Vegeta snapped as the door whooshed shut in his face.

Bulma's eyes filled with tears. That jealous, impetuous, pipsqueak of a Saiyan- she knew she'd made the right decision to refuse to marry him. Yet now she was inextricably linked to him, whether she liked it or not. She hoped this Cold crisis would end soon so she could return home and take a goddamn break from the emotional turbulence she couldn't seem to escape from since the moment she stepped aboard the Nimbus.

"Bulma, please, we need to talk." Vegeta pounded futilely on the door. His voice came through muffled, but still angry.

"Leave me alone, Vegeta."

"I know the secret you're trying to hide from me, Bulma." And the sharpness was gone, replaced with something a lot more melancholy.

"I told you, Raditz is not here. There's nothing to hide." She couldn't help but let a sob escape her lips. Why wouldn't he believe her? It had been a lot more difficult these days to mask how she truly felt. Every time she looked at him, her stomach would turn. And more than once she could feel his dark gaze boring into her back like he was trying to suss out some deep-held secret.

"No, not him. Bulma. I know."

The urgency in his voice pushed aside the sleep-fog that cushioned her mind. She turned and opened the door, flexing her fingers. The tears in her eyes spilled over and streamed down her face, but she was ready to fight him off with her fists if she had to.

His wrecked features matched her own. "Bulma," he whispered, angry, hot tears of his own streaking his cheeks. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Suddenly it clicked what he was talking about, and she wordlessly stood aside to let him in. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him cry.

They sat in silence on her couch, next to each other but not quite touching, for a long time. Bulma thought about falling asleep again, but her thoughts were too out of control and she'd never succeed. She took another shaky breath. "How did you find out?"

"I sensed it. Through our bond."

"Oh, enough with this 'bond' bullshit," Bulma said, heaving a dramatic sigh and rolling her eyes. "Were you snooping through my medical records?"

Vegeta huffed out a short breath. "I'm serious. I think I felt it before you found out, but I didn't know what it was. Something was different. Plus your symptoms…" he trailed off, turning to look at her imploringly. "You know it is a trait of the Saiyan race that we bond with our mates."

"But I'm not your mate. I'm not anybody's mate. I don't want to be."

"Being mates is about more than being somebody's spouse. It's a deep connection that transcends distance, never fades… I swear, I am trying to give you space, Bulma. But we need to talk about this. Our connection goes beyond a simple ceremony, or any tradition my people has. We're bonded, and with this…" he waved at her stomach then, "Development, we're going to have to figure out what to do. It's going to affect us for the rest of our lives." His voice was tight, like he was trying to hold back a myriad emotions that threatened to spill out and drown them both.

Bulma drew the courage to look him in the eye. "I know," she whispered. "I know." And then the sobbing returned with all its gasping, wet, and shuddery glory, and Vegeta pulled her close to him and simply held her as she cried.

Once she had exhausted herself, Bulma took a deep breath and stood to get a glass of water.

"I will stay here tonight. I can sleep on the couch."

Bulma shook her head as she programmed the replicator. "I'll be fine, Vegeta. Thank you," she added as an afterthought. She had no more energy to bear him any ill-will. Or so she thought.

"What did Raditz think of Vegeta-sei?"

Bulma paused before reaching for her ice-cold glass. Why was he bringing this up now? "He thought it was nice." She turned back toward him, keeping her back to the wall and her distance from him. "Nothing happened," she whispered just loud enough for him to hear. "He mistook something I said to him before as interest, but I set him straight. We are friends, Vegeta, nothing more."

"Good, you deserve someone better than him."

Bulma nearly dropped her glass. She turned to him and gave him as scathing a once-over as she could manage. Here she thought they'd come to a sort of understanding, but he couldn't help himself, could he? "Who, someone like you? You think he's unworthy because he wasn't born on your homeworld? Or because he doesn't cower to your every demand? Or because he isn't royalty like you are?"

"I don't trust him," Vegeta said simply. "I don't want to see you hurt."

"You're the last person who would hear about it, anyway."

They were quiet for a long time again. Vegeta seemed to be contemplating what to say in response, while Bulma took a long drink from her water. "I don't think I could trust my feelings to somebody who could sentence their own people to death by leaving them to fend for themselves. Dammit, Vegeta, I knew you were calculating, but I didn't know you were that cold."

"This isn't black and white, and that isn't what we're talking about. You have more than just yourself to think of now."

"And as soon as all of this is over, I'm going back to Vegeta-sei," Bulma said. "So I'll be out of your hair, and you can continue your precious careerin peace while I try to figure out what to do about mine."

Vegeta's gaze pinned her to the wall. "If we stay and fight like everyone seems to think we should, there's a chance you don't make it out of this alive," he hissed. "And I'm not going to lose you both. I don't give a fuck about my career. I just need you safe."

Bulma wrapped her arms around her middle. What did it matter if she lived if a thousand Saiyans had to die for that choice?

Vegeta stood. "I want you to inform the captain of your condition and arrange to take a pod out of this sector."

"Not going to happen," Bulma said. "My mission is not complete, and I am not going to abandon it."

"Dammit, Bulma, would you quit being so stubborn?"

"I thought you used to like that about me." Bulma crossed her arms and stood her ground.

"I still do," Vegeta said quietly, like he'd given up. "The gods know I still do."

Then he turned on his heel and left Bulma alone in her quarters, her heart feeling as cold as the glass in her hand.

"You look like you could use this," Launch said as she brought a plate of chocolate cake to the table for Bulma.

"But it's breakfast time," Bulma replied, eyeing the cake with weakening resolve.

"Time is fake in space." Launch shrugged and smiled, pushing the plate toward her new friend and wiggling the fork enticingly at her. "C'mon. It's okay to eat your feelings sometimes."

Bulma snorted. "Man, if I had a chocolate cake for every time I needed to do that," she laughed and took the fork. "You're a bad influence."

"Only when my friends are upset," she replied and tucked into her own reasonable breakfast of sausages, eggs, and pancakes. The smells made Bulma's stomach gurgle with hunger, but the chocolate cake's beckoning was too strong, and she had the first bite in her mouth before she could resist. It was heavenly, and Bulma had eaten a lot of chocolate cake in her time.

"You wanna talk about it?" Launch asked, perching her head on her hand and watching Bulma with big eyes.

"You're going to judge me," Bulma sighed, keeping her eyes fixed on her chocolate cake. She scooped another forkful into her mouth and hummed, letting the icing melt all her cares away.

"Is it about the lieutenant?" Launch asked, eyeing Vegeta from where he sat with his back to them across the room.

"It's apparently been about him from the moment I stepped foot on this ship," Bulma muttered. Watching as he ate alongside other officers, it was like he was all alone with the space between them and his natural standoffishness. Bulma wondered how he was managing after their fight, but decided quickly that she didn't care.

"We all spying on the prince?" Raditz whispered beside them, startling both women out of their covert reconnaissance.

"Wouldn't call it spying," Bulma said, taking another massive bite of chocolate cake. She had a feeling her present company wouldn't be too appalled at her unladylike manner.

"He seems… stiff," Launch said, while Raditz guffawed and momentarily drew the attention of the tables around them.

"Oh, you have no idea," Bulma said.

"If he's half as insufferable as Rabi," Launch said, referring to the Saiyan councilman with whom she'd travelled, "then I would say don't bother with him."

"It's a bit too late for that," Bulma sighed.

"I'm sorry to tell you, but every Saiyan you'll ever meet is going to be an insufferable dick, present company included," Raditz said with a grin. "Except my brother. He's kinda soft. Didn't inherit any of our father's ruthlessness."

"Does Bardock ever concede on anything?" Bulma asked.

Raditz shrugged. "Only where mom's involved. You met her, actually. She was sitting next to him at the dinner I wasn't invited to."

Something clicked in Bulma's brain. "What's your mom's name?" she asked as the gears turned and she started to formulate a plan.

"Gine."

Tension on the Nimbus thickened as the days passed with no indication that the Colds were anywhere nearby. Starfleet had been silent about the Namekian Crisis, and the crew grew more on edge every day.

Bulma tried and tried with no avail to contact Gine, Raditz' and Goku's mother. If what Raditz said was true, then she might be the key to winning the Saiyans over to their side, if only they could reach her. With each failure, Bulma grew more irritated.

Her annoyance came to a head when she nearly bit off the head of the poor, well-meaning crewman who brought her a cup of black tea.

"I can't have caffeine!" Buma shrieked, pissed off that the crewman dare remind her of that fact.

"Ambassador," Vegeta said, turning to watch the crewman running from the room with his figurative tail between his legs.

"What," Bulma snapped without looking up. She adjusted a set of dials and tried hailing again. Nada.

"Captain Roshi requests your presence at his table tonight," Vegeta stated.

So he was here on formal ship business.

As if that made his interruption any better.

Bulma took a deep breath, let it out through her nose, and turned toward the lieutenant. The captain's invitation to dine with him had been standing from the moment she set foot on this ship. Lately, however, as her mission dragged on and her previous transgressions came back to bite her in the ass, she'd been spending more and more of her evening meals alone in her quarters. She gave Vegeta a once-over. In addition to his usual Starfleet uniform, he'd lately taken to wearing his traditional Saiyan chestplate. She had to admit, it did accentuate his physique in all the right ways. "Will you be joining us as well?" There was a hint of seduction in her tone that she hadn't meant to let creep in there.

"I will," Vegeta said. He didn't seem to pick up on it, thankfully, but he did tense up at the question-like he expected her to decline once she learned his response.

But if Bulma declined, she knew there would be uncomfortable questions later. "Please tell the captain I would be delighted." She felt her irritation starting to melt away the longer he watched her thoughtfully. Was this some side effect of the supposed bond they shared?

"One other question, ambassador. Have you been sending encrypted transmissions to the Legacy recently?"

Bulma furrowed her brow. "I've been trying to contact Raditz's mother Gine," she said. But that was no secret.

"Nothing else?"

"No."

"Interesting." As Vegeta turned to leave, she called after him: "Send Launch and Raditz in, would you?"

Vegeta scowled. "I'm not your servant," he muttered.

Raditz and Launch arrived together not even ten minutes later.

Bulma read an old earth novel on her padd while Raditz and Launch sat and chatted happily by the window. They'd only known each other for a few days, but already they had taken a shine to each other. Bulma was just happy that Raditz's attention was off of her, though they still spoke at length whenever they found themselves in the mess hall together.

There was an empty seat beside Bulma, who was so engrossed in her novel that she didn't hear the footsteps approaching.

"So," a deep voice said beside her and startled her back to present.

She turned to look at Piccolo, whose face remained as expressionless as ever. "Adding 'matchmaker' to your list of skills, I see."

"I'm happy they have each other," Bulma said with a shrug. "Gives me some time alone."

Piccolo crossed his arms, his looming figure blocking her view of her friends as he lingered.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Vegeta sent you over with a message, didn't he? Out with it."

"He says you need to tell the captain what's going on, and that he'll have a pod ready to depart in a couple hours."

"Well, tell the lieutenant I already said no," Bulma replied, a tiny frown adorning her face. She mirrored Piccolo's crossed arms and sighed. "And tell him to stop dragging other people into this."

Piccolo shrugged. "I will not pretend to understand what strange things are going on between the two of you," he started uncomfortably, "but it's clear even to me that he holds you in high regard. I have known him for some time, and while we often share the same voice on a matter, even when we disagree I find him to be a reasonable man."

Bulma placed her padd on the table and appraised the Namekian. "Professionally, perhaps," she said. "But he leaves a lot to be desired personally."

The mood on the bridge was solemn; the time for making decisions had passed.

"How long?" the captain asked.

"Three days, sir. They'll be here in three days."