Human Hospitality
by pureleaf
Chapter 18
Calm Before A Storm
Bulma was sitting on her bed and painting her toenails when her computer monitor switched itself on and the connection signal rang in her speakers. She swung her legs across the mattress and hobbled over to her desk. She accepted the call and sat back in her chair.
"Hello there!" She waved to the camera when Vegeta's camera connected.
"I'm calling you back now," he said, voice a little raspier than normal, "what's going on?"
"How are you? You looked like hell when I called you this morning, Vegeta. I was a little worried, to be honest."
"Quit that at once- I don't need your pity. I just had a long night and drank too much. My friend was in even worse shape when I took off!" He barked a dry, bitter laugh.
"Uh huh," Bulma pulled her right leg up and rested her heel on the edge of her seat, "sounds like it. Well, you do look better-rested now. Anyway, the reason I called earlier today was to let you know that you have about eighteen months worth of fuel on-board, assuming you're letting the fuel cells recharge every once in a while by landing on a temperate planet with adequate sunlight for at least twelve hours. The amount of electricity you're using, plus how frequently you're using the gravity simulator, is going to affect the amount of fuel you have as well."
"Hang on- you said the fuel cells recharge, correct? If these fuel cells are capable of recharging, then why are you giving me this estimate of eighteen months?"
"The fuel cells can only be recharged so many times before they lose efficiency and become more prone to malfunction. If you're very careful about your power consumption and don't run the gravity simulator at high levels for hours every day, you may be able to push two years of travel, but I cannot make any guarantees for your safety." Bulma started to pick at the tissue she'd wound between her toes to keep them separate.
"So what you're telling me is that I have about one and a half Earth years to look for Kakkarot?"
"Pretty much. Whatever you're doing out there, Vegeta, just plan your journey accordingly. You can always monitor your fuel levels by accessing the "Settings" drop menu and looking for the icon with a blinking blue ring."
"Thanks for telling me that now and not ten months from now or something."
Bulma couldn't stop herself from asking Vegeta about his at least some of his intentions. "I don't mean to impose, Vegeta, but when do you suppose you'll return to Earth? Or will you?"
"I said I would return, Bulma. I am a man of my word."
"Just be careful... and please take care of yourself. You can always call us."
"Bulma, who are you talking to?" A softer male voice could be heard entering Bulma's bedroom before Yamcha appeared behind Bulma's chair. He looked into the camera and then at Vegeta, and finally gave a small wave. "Oh, h-hey, Vegeta."
"Hello," Vegeta gave Yamcha a small nod and watched as the warrior quickly disappeared out of sight once again, "did I frighten him, Bulma? Just reassure him that I can't do any harm from where I am right now!" That wicked grin spread across his face and he chuckled at the long-haired man's nervousness.
"Well, at least you've met Yamcha now. Give him a chance, alright? You know, I'm still processing the idea of you going to a bar and actually hanging out, Vegeta."
"Haven't I mentioned something about it before?"
"Yes, you did! And I still can't imagine you hanging out in a bar! Well, maybe an old, smelly saloon where a lot of fights break out... like in a Spaghetti Western! I just figured you were always on a mission or something."
The Saiyan's mouth curled into a disapproving frown and he shook his head. "I have some standards, you know! Give me at least a little credit, woman! It was a... you people call it a nightclub, but ours never really close. Just so you know, Saiyans enjoy a good time just as much, if not more, than most humans."
"Then Yamcha and I are going to take you out for a night on the town sometime, how about that? We'll buy all your drinks. And food. Oh, and by the way, my Mom says "Hi". She thinks you're funny."
"Very cute. But if you're trying to lure me back, it isn't going to work. I will be back, Bulma, but not for a while. Good bye."
Vegeta disconnected the call and the video on his end went dark. She hated it when he disconnected so abruptly and didn't give her the chance to say goodbye.
Bulma shut her laptop and went back to painting her toenails.
"Eugh, he seems like a real jerk, huh?" Yamcha sat on the end of Bulma's bed and shook his head in disapproval at how the Saiyan had behaved during the video call.
"He can be kind of blunt and intense," Bulma said, more focused on finishing her toenails than what Yamcha had to say, "just give him time to come around."
After close to fourteen hours of slowly regaining feeling in his body, Jabuka was finally able to roll off the couch, crawl to his sliding balcony door and push it shut. It took close to five minutes just to move the tempered glass door across its sliding track until he heard it click. Shivering from cold, the soldier slowly made his way into the bedroom, pulled himself into his bed, and made his way underneath the covers. Unable to yet connect his thoughts coherently, he passed out and would remain unconscious for another ten hours.
Ten days passed by uneventfully. Vegeta spent his time training for up to six hours at a stretch, sleeping, eating, watching a little television (he didn't know what to make of Earthling entertainment most of the time), and taking apart a scouter to wire into one of the on-board speakers so he'd have the option of listening to a live audio feed of PTO soldiers. He scanned different frequencies and disabled his outgoing communication line so there would be no chance of somebody picking up his voice or a few words from a television program broadcast in English.
On the eleventh day, Vegeta was in the middle of eating a tray of previously frozen game in a heavily-spiced sauce with mixed grains alongside when he picked up a conversation between two soldiers that surprised him. He set down his meal and turned up his speaker to hear them clearly.
"...other than that, things seem to be going alright. So, I heard the craziest rumour when I stopped at Sevn for a few drinks the other night." A smooth baritone voice filled the simulator and Vegeta's teeth were set on edge, anticipating what the soldier was going to say.
"This better be a good one, Dinja!" A soldier with a noticeable lisp replied.
"Just listen, Kivi, it's good, it's good! Okay, what I hear is that a few nights ago these patrol officers get off-duty and they go to Sevn for drinks. At some point in the night they go outside to get some fresh air when some short little fucker comes up wearing some mask or a scarf or somethin'. No armour or insignias or nothin'. Anyway, one of the dudes tells the short guy to screw off. Bad idea. This little guy flipped out and broke the dude's jaw, and when I say broke, I mean it was busted in like six or seven places broke. Missing tons of teeth now. Naturally, these patrol guys decide to leave the dude alone and get on out of there, 'cause maybe he's some upper-ranking guy wanting to stay on the down low, y'know?"
"Ooh, this is getting interesting! Know any more?"
"Oh yeah. Anyway, the little masked dude goes into the club. Some people say he just went inside to take a piss... but you'll never guess who showed at Sevn up a little while later!"
"I really have no idea, Dinja..."
"You ever heard of that soldier called "Vegeta", Kivi? Little guy with black hair that stood up, big eyes, tail, and a nasty temper?"
"Oh, come on! Vegeta's dead. I never met the guy, but every once in a while I hear that name, and lately I've been hearing about how he's dead. What was his deal, anyway? You know anything about him? Seems like he was... well, popular wouldn't be the right word at all..."
The soldier called Dinja began chuckling. "Aw, man, I heard he was some crazy little Saiyan who bragged about being a prince and leading purge teams before supposedly going nuts and being killed, but I guess the dude's still alive after all. No word on whether or not he's sane, but I'd say no. I even heard from somebody that he was overheard talking about killing Cui! Can you even imagine?!"
The soldier with the lisp started to laugh hysterically. Incensed, Vegeta turned off the speaker and made note of he frequency he was tuned to. He'd be checking in on those soldiers again and wanted to figured out where they were heading. How dare they laugh at the mention of his name!
It's time to give the PTO an update on Frieza and his cronies, thought Vegeta. He brought up a map of the galaxy, closed in on the area he was currently travelling through, and started to list off different planets he knew of in the area.
Unable to make up his mind, he returned to eating and ultimately decided he'd give it another day before settling on his next destination.
To Be Continued