Excuse Me?
Disclaimer: You know the rules; I only borrow from Toriyama. Don't sue this poor person.
A/N: It's been, what? One hundred million years? To be quite honest, for the past months I've been in various states of stress and disarray that I could hardly upload my chapters. I don't know, really. But last night it finally occurred to me to make an update. I scribbled the draft on a piece of paper, made up the dialogues from the top of my head and the rest is history. For what it's worth, I've more or less come up with decisions that will shape the plot of this fan fic. I apologize to those who "waited".
Chapter IV
Vegeta's POV
Even if I wasn't staring back at her, I knew well enough that she was keeping me well within her gaze, which, unfortunately for me, was too cold to oppose. We stood there for what seemed like countless centuries--Can't recall anymore. And if there was even a very small amount of light stealing inside the room, I didn't need to employ further help to realize that a sort of nagging tension had commenced its growth between us, and that my face bore its effects.
Then it suddenly dawned on me that she was painfully awaiting my more serious answer. Now I knew for a fact that I could torture her with the suspense for as long as I could possibly enjoy. Had I been under a looser circumstance, that would've been the characteristic thing to do. Contrary to my usual inclination though, I found myself somewhat unable to bear the weight of the strain. It was as if I was being blackmailed into making a hasty decision, which I could hardly avail at that time. And note, even if I was more than fully aware that my heart begged for a full-on refusal, nothing less, I had the most difficult time putting it to words.
"No," I repeated. It was sort of disappointing that it didn't come out as stabbing as I intended.
I saw her blink her eyes twice, for about a split second. Her off-shoulder spring gown, immaculate in its glorious whiteness, matched the pale complexion of her skin. Her whole face expressed a form of lividness that was calm, likely still in the process of absorbing the entire word which, short as it is, proved nearly lethal to her stupid, misplaced pride.
"So, you're really refusing to marry me, huh?" She seethed as I began to wonder what part of it she might've not understood. Her pupils dilated, remarkably expanding the smaller black circles at their center. "Mister, do you imagine what casualty that two-letter word could bring? Could mean to me? Are you even half aware that you're sending a whole colony to its morbid demise? Do you even--"
"If you're into a round of conscience-appealing crap, kindly leave me out of it. And please, don't make me think I've mistaken you for a smarter person."
"And what do you mean by that?"
"Nothing. Only that by now you should've figured out that I couldn't care less if I see your pathetic bodies perish in flames and that I'm a cold-blooded genocide junkie--Oh, I just forgot YOU coined that nickname. Mind me, that didn't impress me quite a bit. I suggest you try harder." I smirked, relishing her irritation as she threw venomous glances my way.
"Let me just straighten this out, prince; nobody's trying to impress you."
"Tersely put and effective. I knew you'd say that." I said, checking my beeper-watch and consequently feeling my brows furrow. A missive had been delivered to me a quarter of an hour ago. "Anyway, I'd better get going, there's an emergency down at the third infantry..."
"Who cares? You can't just go like that, could you? You owe me a clear decision--"
"If my memory serves me right, I owe you exactly nothing. In fact, once I made up my mind to chop your pretty neck off, you're much too advised to kneel in front of me and beg for my mercy. Otherwise, you'd have to live longer to witness my--whatchamacallit?--ah, barbarity. It's up to you and there's no hurry." I said as I watched her wrench her arms from her chest and rise to her full length, like a snake that's poised to spit poison.
I turned toward the door just then, determined to put this scene behind me. The room had suddenly assumed a murky atmosphere, as though someone had died in it and the echoes of the mourners' wails still linger, stubbornly, to haunt future occupants.
But then something unpredictable happened: She charged between me and the door sooner than I could reach the door knob. There was a look of unrestrained fearlessness in her young face, directed to me. It looked as though she was challenging me to bring forth my courage, the rest of it, to lay it bare before her so she could stomp on it, revealing the stronger sex. I, however, had no time for it. I was ready to give her the satisfaction of succumbing to her will if that meant getting rid of her at that point. But something powerful held me back; maybe it was called pride, the same thing that applied to her attitude and impertinence.
"I can make a bargain or two. You just can't leave as of yet--"
"Oh yeah? Watch me." I said rather dismissively. This time I made sure that I'd act quicker. Thus settling it once and for all, I shoved her to my side, out of the way. I heard a sharp profanity evincing from her mouth and without lending her a sympathetic glance, I snuck my way quietly out of that inferno. If I heard her continuous shouts from behind me, I didn't bother looking back.
--
I flew straight up north before boarding on my pod. Based on the missive I just read, things didn't go quite according to plan. A distraction seemed to have issued out of the slavery-bound lowlifes of the village and the urgent manner in which the message reached me seemed to allow for no further delay.
I decelerated to the location and as I did so, I noticed a conspicuous pillar, haphazard in its stance, and quite multi-colored. It unquestionably was the hour's center of attraction. As I drew even nearer, it became quite lucid that these are bodies, battered fresh corpses. Now that's an unfamiliar spectacle, I thought. I parked my flyer near the commotion, just a few feet outside the surrounding queues of my soldiers. Just then Zarbon's nob towered above their ugly mugs and upon sniffing out my presence from among the crowd, he hastily fought his way to me.
"Quickly tell me the subject of your disturbance." I said.
"Soon, sir, and good afternoon." the bumbling idiot fumbled, catching his breath, his green hair slightly unkempt as he effected to bow in the most graciously exaggerated manner he could manage at the moment. There was a twang of nerve in his sentence.
"Enough of that." I said. "Is it something I can't handle?"
"Oh, I doubt that sir."
"So what's the worried stupid expression for? Fix it at once, will you?"
He gathered himself up and tighten his face which produced a mix of lameness and uncertainty, omitting other overwhelmingly theatrical emotions. "You must pardon me, sir. But there's someone among the people who--"
"We'll get to that later." I mumbled, cutting him short. My eyes were still glued on the horrid scene. "What I want to know now is, why your guys didn't burn these wimps?" I nodded at the heap of pathetic carcasses, noting their intact colors and flesh.
"Er, sir, that's among our major concerns, in fact." he said and made awkward gestures with his hands and contorted his face very dramatically. "You see, these people seemed to have developed a kind of device or some other that renders their warriors resistant to fire and any degree of heat, which consequently rendered our troops' weapons closely futile. It seems further that their homes are installed with the same kind of...uhm, magic, if I may say so. It's a real state-of-the-art creation. I haven't quite seen anything like it."
"I get your point." Indeed, I did. I surveyed the village in question which was hardly in its destroyed state, to my upset. Apart from the scattered blood pools, howling local women and children, no sign of struggle was at stake. The squat measly houses still stood confidently, reassuring their durability amidst the aftermath of war. They weren't in gray ashes as I wished them to be and if not for the menacing attendance of this division, none would've made a point of questioning the nature of this curious event. It looked more of a part of the villagers' everyday status quo.
That's when I realized how angry I was. Together with this, I felt my nails deepen into my palms, creating moon-shaped pink marks on the skin. I never thought I'd live through the day when I'd be more or less guilty of gross underestimation.
"I ordered some of the men to run after the escaping POW... but they returned empty-handed, their quarries most likely roaming free in the hills... I already dispatched the first infantry to comb through the woods..." Zarbon rattled on.
"Zarbon," I glared at him. This trick always worked; it never failed to shut my subjects up. "Slow it down. Didn't it even cross you that I just pulled myself out of an unimaginably taxing meeting at the palace? As a matter of candid fact, right at this instant, I'm still in the very annoying process of sponging off the holistic episode into my head. My capacity for understanding is very limited at the present , now if you would be so thoughtful as to take things one at a time, perhaps I can work something out other than wanting to dissolve you to pieces." I snapped, which I suppose brought a painful spasm out of my companion's spine, assuming he had one.
"I beg your apology sir." Zarbon muttered, apparently sweating. "As I was saying, some of the escaped criminals went to the mountains, way up west. We presumed it was an order from their leader, the baron. We're afraid they'd endorse the help of the neighboring territory, Novgrod. Rumor has it that it's being hosted by an even more troublesome prince."
"Novgrod? Interesting." I said lazily, rolling over the familiar name unto my head. It might've earned Zarbon's wonder for he looked at me in a way that bore his poorly hidden suspicion. "Go on,"
"Sir, casualties on our side are fairly weighty. The death toll has been raised to sixty-seven in this battle alone. It's likely that we'd require another long period of time before our soldiers recuperated. A large amount of medicines is being defected from the Cassandra but we're afraid we're going to have to downplay our daily consumption. If it goes on like this, we may not last another month."
"And our artillery?" my curiosity heightened along with my intimidation, but I kept a straight face in case Zarbon suspected something.
"Faring only slightly better. Though we've confiscated a lot of weapons from the enemies, our lack is still to be remedied to a great extent. We didn't anticipate they'd repel our ammos."
"Seriously, did that have to be repeated? Anything else we're up and arms against? Judging by your looks you have nothing up your sleeve but ill tidings." I said at which the idiot grinned.
"The women are exceptionally attractive, sir."
I sighed in a clear display of petulance. "I've seen the best...and on second thoughts, the worst. What else? Have you collected all the loot?"
"Aye sir. Nothing but odds and ends. They seem to have curious functions but none of us could get them to work."
"That can easily be repaired; we'll just get one of the newly appointed slaves to work them. Anyway, if you're done I will retire to my chamber--"
"Hold on, sir. There's something you need to take a look at, still."
I gave him an intense look of dismay before I fully rounded on him. "There's more?"
"It's a someone. He's called Son Gokou of the Zarak Province, its Baron. He's responsible for decimating my squad."
"Indeed? And what, pray tell, is the reason why he's being spared on that account?"
"We unanimously decided that you should talk to him first, before you designate the day of his execution. He's an interesting piece of creature, that Son Gokou."
"You think he's worthy of my reception?" I sneered contemptuously.
"Not that, sir, it's just..."
"Then is his skin too thick that your blunt blades fail to penetrate through his flesh? Are you asking me to take care of him?"
"In a manner of speaking, sir." Zarbon said, suddenly becoming timid.
"Oh, the contriteness of your words is so masterfully overdone. This man sounds like a real winner. He must be matchless, don't you think?"
"You haven't faced him sir, so I wouldn't wager on it. He's currently being held in captive by Recoom and Dodoria, magnetic chains and all."
"Bring him to me." I said, not knowing what the meeting's consequence would be.
TBC
A/N: This chapter sucks ass but never mind, I'm uploading its continuation right away. Soon as I finished typing it. And the sketch is already done; all it needs is transcribing. Maybe tomorrow or later on.