Human Hospitality

by pureleaf

Chapter 26

Old Comrades Overheard

For close to five days, Vegeta let the ship's fuel cells recharge. He tidied up inside the ship, displeased at his own disorganization and the amount of trash he'd allowed to build up. After searching for proper cleaning products and finding nothing, Vegeta also realized there was no way to get rid of the bloodstains on the bathroom tiles or in the shower and decided to just let it be. He burned anything that wasn't needed any more, deciding the smouldering ruins of Frieza's vacation house was enough blight for one planet. The Saiyan swam in the freshwater lake, ate several of the large, fatty fish that swam in its deepest areas, and spent hours basking under the hot sun.

Bulma sent him a time-lapse video of the skies directly above the Capsule Corp. Compound over the course of twenty four hours, which Vegeta studied for several hours before determining he could make it back within eight months. Vegeta would have to make at least three stops to PTO-controlled stations in order to re-charge the fuel cells, get food, and ensure he was following a navigable route. All in all, Vegeta felt confident he could make it back to Earth without any conflict.

He had trained for months, and Vegeta decided that nothing was going to phase him.

With his belly full of fish and sunburned skin fading into a deep tan, Vegeta boarded his ship and left 00-2A, the knowledge that he really was returning to Earth sinking in. I still haven't found Kakarot, he chewed his lower lip, there was no fucking mention of any other Saiyans... just the bullshit about me... I think my stops will include some parting words to any soldier that gives me trouble this time around.

Vegeta went down to his living area and looked through his gym bag. Some of his clothing was already looking worn from his furious training, and he noticed some of the t-shirts Bulma had purchased for him positively stank of old sweat. He looked through his vials and the medicines Dr. Zelen had given him and was pleased with how many painkillers, antibiotics, and healing balms he had left. He also had plenty of gauze and bandages to spare, although Vegeta told himself internally that he wouldn't be seriously wounded again.

When he dipped his fingers into a small zippered pocket in the side of the bag, Vegeta's fingertips brushed against Bulma's gold chain and the little golden arrow. He pinched the ends of the chain and pulled it free with his thumb and forefinger, like rodent's tail, and let it pour into his left palm. He recalled rifling through Bulma's drawers and sighed.

"If I return, I can't be so soft..." he put the chain back in his bag and lay back in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Even you need somebody to talk to, a voice that Vegeta swore sounded like a woman's seemed to drift past his ear, and when Vegeta realized a half second later that the voice had spoken in his native tongue the hairs on the Saiyan's arms stood on end and he bolted upright.

Vegeta went upstairs and turned on the scouter he'd wired into one of the ship's speakers. He turned the volume just high enough that there would be a constant, soft noise in the background. I'm going insane, Vegeta thought, I haven't touched anybody or anything with warm blood in so long...

For eight weeks while en-route to his first scheduled destination, Vegeta trained and make sure to take breaks in order to conserve power as best he could. He kept the ship dimly lit and started to shower every other day. When he wasn't training, Vegeta listened to nearby soldiers and stations communicating over PTO lines and longed for useful information or a piece of particularly good gossip.

After eight weeks and five days, Vegeta finally heard a somebody familiar come through the speaker. He raced over to the central computer and turned the volume up so he could hear that baritone voice he could recall speaking with at length as a younger man.

"This is Jabuka speaking, I repeat, this is Jabuka speaking. Seeking mechanical assistance with pod number 825-738AH. Also seeking medical assistance. Situation is currently stable but serious... both pod and occupant. Currently en-route to Planet 325-K. Requesting an emergency landing, is there any station that can accommodate this request?"

Several seconds passed in tense silence. Vegeta dug his fingernails into his forearms.

"Request granted. This is Station 62, located in central northwestern hemisphere. Can you pinpoint the location?" A smooth feminine voice replied to Jabuka.

More silence. Vegeta found himself grinning and anticipating a stimulating confrontation.

"Location found and locked-on. I'm about twenty eight hours away and will hooked onto life support when landing is made. Please inform medical staff of my arrival. Thank you."

"Confirmed. We're awaiting your arrival, Jabuka. Safe travels, soldier."

Jabuka's scouter cut out and Vegeta had to stifle a cackle. He redirected the ship to Station 62 on planet 325-K and found he was thirty three hours away. This time he laughed out loud and leaned back in the pilot's char, stretching his arms high above his head.

"This is perfect," he sighed, "he'll get out of the medical wing and I'll be there, waiting for him!"

The transit ship's heating system was malfunctioning again, making the cramped sleeping quarters so hot that Vegeta's skin had a constant film of sweat. In just his underwear, Vegeta lay stomach-down on his thin, hard mattress, staring at the steel wall inches away and desperately trying to make the racing thoughts in his head stop long enough to let him sleep. Ever since his seventeenth birthday, Vegeta had felt more aggressive and angrier than ever, and insomnia suddenly became a part of his life. Despite his ability to sometimes will himself to sleep, there were nights that he simply couldn't sleep no matter how hard he tried.

Eighteen inches to his side, Raditz softly snored, curled up on his side with his hair tied into a thick braid for the sake of comfort. They'd been ordered to rest some five hours earlier, and for close to five hours Raditz had slept contentedly while Vegeta tossed and turned, his eyes burning from exhaustion and anxiety.

Just outside the thin metal door, a group of drunken soldiers laughed and shouted, their speech so slurred that Vegeta was unable to make out a damn thing they were saying.

Vegeta rose out of bed, pulled on his blue leggings for modesty's sake, opened the door, and snarled at the soldiers, "go away! There are some of us that need to sleep!"

"Whatever, monkey," a tall soldier leered at Vegeta, "we're just chillin' for a few minutes. Go back to bed, kiddo."

Shrieking with fury, Vegeta brazenly fired at soldiers with all his might and left nothing but pieces of their bodies by the time he was finished. Raditz and other sleeping soldiers rose out of their narrow beds, ran out of their sleeping quarters to see the commotion, and were all horrified to find the young Saiyan panting and screaming in his native language, totally out of his mind with rage.

"Raditz..." Vegeta looked back at his comrade, eyes blank and glassy, "I want to fucking sleep right now," the Saiyan continued to speak his mother tongue, "get me some cold, wet towels at once. And if any of you assholes make any noise," Vegeta switched to the Galactic Standard and scanned the faces of the stunned soldiers, "I'll kill you too. Trust me when I say you are all expendable."

Exhausted, the young Saiyan prince went back into his sleeping quarters, pulled off his leggings, and lay on his bed. Raditz returned a few minutes later with three hand-towels he'd soaked in cold water and wrung out until just dripping, which Vegeta draped across his chest and forehead.

Another hour passed before Vegeta finally drifted off and he managed to sleep five hours before being awakened by Nappa in order to receive upcoming mission details. For his trouble, Nappa earned a black eye and a knee to the groin.

To Be Continued