Human Hospitality

by scoutergreen

Chapter 60

The Catch Up

The woman burst out laughing, picked up her tablet while keeping her eyes locked on Vegeta, and as she rose to her full height she leaned forward and studied his face. When she reached out with calloused fingertips to trace the fine scar, as wide as a thread, that ran from the middle of his left cheek, across the bridge of his nose, and finished just below the orbit of his right eyeball, Vegeta knew it was her.

"It really is you," she breathed, her brows raised in surprise, "Vegeta..."

"After all these years..."

"Stand up, let me take a look at you," she urged him out of his seat and motioned for him to turn around for her, which Vegeta did without thinking twice despite feeling very awkward in the process, "oh my god! Look at you! You're all filled out and all grown up!"

The Saiyan felt his face getting hot, and for a brief moment he felt like a teenager again. He looked her up and down, finding he was still fond of her body and beautiful features. "You look incredible," he muttered, "I don't think you've aged at all..."

Malar giggled and kept studying the Saiyan. "I see you've only refined your ability to charm... you must be in your thirties now, yes?"

"I'm going to be thirty four soon."

"My god," Malar continued staring at him, her smile never fading, "you grew up into a very handsome man."

Vegeta looked at his menu card again, desperate to hide his burning face. "You're going to have to fill me in on how you wound up here. After fifteen years, I'm sure you have one hell of a story."

"Likewise, Vegeta. Can I get you a drink?"

"Only if you join me, Malar. I'm also hungry as hell, by the way. That's one thing that hasn't changed!"

She laughed, rose from the booth, and went to speak with her other customers. "Look, you lot," she spoke to her customers in a clear, low voice, remaining cordial but insistent, "your meals are free if you get out of here now. I have important business to attend to."

A few of the other patrons in the restaurant caught the sight of Vegeta sitting alone at a booth, put two and two together, and all readily agreed to head out. Ten minutes later, the entire restaurant was empty, and three small ships made a point of leaving the docking bay as fast as they could reasonably manage.

"Finally," Malar sighed with relief when she saw the last ship pass by the thick glass window, "some peace and quiet! Anyway, Vegeta, about that drink..."

"Oh, yeah," Vegeta rose from the booth and literally hopped over the bar, "let's see what we're working with here! And you'd better not disappoint me!"

They wound up concocting a large pitcher of something deliciously potent that consisted of fruity wine, strong and sweet liquor, a splash of a bitter citrus-like juice, a sweet and fizzy juice popular within PTO-controlled areas, all mixed together and served over crushed ice in very large glasses. Vegeta had been introduced to the drink in his late teen years and he still liked how it tasted. Both drinking, they agreed to put some frozen flat breads Malar had prepared into a hot oven and ate them with bowls of different sauces. Although it was light food, Vegeta was totally satisfied with what he was served.

"So is this your restaurant? I knew you were a decent cook, but this is something else..." Vegeta dragged a scrap of hot bread through a smear of creamy white sauce that carried an unexpected spicy kick and popped it in his mouth.

"This entire station is mine. I own and run the restaurant and the repair shop," Malar beamed at him, "I had to save up for seventy five years, but this is mine! All mine!"

Vegeta struggled to keep a straight face. He realized he had no idea how old Malar was, and he had always assumed she was about ten to fifteen years his senior. "Please tell me you still repair ships..."

"Of course I do! Damn, Vegeta, that's still my livelihood! I love working on ships. It makes me feel fulfilled. This restaurant just gives people incentive to stop here, and I can usually sweet talk somebody into letting me run a diagnostic on their ship. Sometimes I find an issue on-board or make a minor repair while they're eating, and they're always so happy to spend a little extra here once their bellies are full of decent food. Almost all of the food I make undergoes very long, slow cooking, which means I can work on a ship for four or five hours and give it my undivided attention. I don't bother with anything fancy here."

"Thank God! At some point, I'm going to need you to look at my ship. It's fucked up. I can and will pay you. But we can talk business later. Now, I must know how you came to own your own fucking station within PTO territory."

Malar nodded. "Of course I'll look at your ship. Later. Geez... where do we begin, Vegeta? The last time we spoke, I had been ordered to work on Frieza's then-new transit ship. I was the boss when it came to repairs and managing the fleet of ships on-board, which actually did a lot of good for my reputation despite the fact that the job was an absolutely miserable endeavor. The job was a five year contract, and I hated it from day one. People get weird on those ships. I'm so glad that one of Frieza's henchmen taught me to better defend myself, because some of those soldiers can't handle being around a woman who isn't in the process of taking their clothes off. Anyway, when my contract was up, I found myself on Planet 56, with a ton of money, no job lined up, and nothing going on to occupy my time... anyway, on Planet 56, I wound up bartending at different clubs for a little over a year. It was something to do, I had a lot of fun, and I met some interesting people. Along the way, I met a man who was a..." her deep skin seemed to glow a little warmer, "we were very close for a long time. About eight years ago, I heard that this station was for sale, and I had so much money saved up, that I decided to leave Planet 56 and head here, and I've been here ever since, serving meals and fixing ships. The man in my life supported it. It hasn't always been very easy out here, but the work really is rewarding. Not to mention, I get to meet some very interesting people! Well... that's what I've been up to the last seventeen or eighteen years of my life, whatever it's been. So... how about you, Vegeta?"

Vegeta digested her words, unable to stop studying her features, desperate to commit them to his memory. "Well... I..." his voice quivered and he wondered if he was even capable of reviewing all those years since she had told him she was leaving. For a moment, Vegeta felt like a lonely sixteen year old boy all over again.

"Things have not been good. You left, and I continued my life as a well-paid but highly-controlled contract killer. Frieza had me in charge of massive drug and weapons runs, countless purge missions, I worked as a body-guard, an assassin, I was in charge several of high-security deliveries, a few dozen times I did negotiations on Frieza's behalf, once or twice I worked as an "enforcer" on overcrowded transit ships. The years of work have blurred together with hard living and strict training. My life was on a loop for years and years and years, and when I haven't been working, I've made my body stronger. That's about it..."

Malar's smile did fade, but Vegeta noticed she shook her head a little. "It seems you have become a very successful person in your own way. Working life is not always particularly enjoyable, but you must persist if you wish to progress, you know? And you became social enough to, uhhh, "party", which says something. You became one of Frieza's top soldiers, and wasn't that one of your goals?"

"I was and I still am an elite soldier. I defected from Frieza's ranks about five years ago. Fuck the Planet Trade Organization."

The mechanic responded to this by spitting her drink all over the floor, making the conscious effort to move lest she accidentally spit in the notorious Saiyan's face. He may have been friendly with her, but Malar knew of his sadism and unstable temperament. "Holy shit! I heard some rumours, but I never..."

" Oh yes, the rumours," Vegeta took a long sip of his drink, feeling the effects of the alcohol, "I think the generally accepted story is this: first I had defected, then I was destroyed by Frieza, and then I was alive once more... I don't blame you for being unsure of what to believe. To tell you the truth, I found the story that Frieza had ripped out my heart pretty unbelievable too."

Malar laughed under her breath and refilled her glass. "You've done a lot more that you're letting on, aren't you?"

"Of course. The things I've done would make your head spin, Malar, and I'm not just talking about my now-former line of work."

The mechanic slammed her palm against the table, causing the plate of bread and bowls of sauces to rattle a little. "Okay, now you've gotta start talking! You got a new job?!"

"Not exactly," Vegeta took another sip of the delicious cocktail, "I wound up spending a few years, for the most part I mean, living quietly on a planet called Earth. You could say I've gone into semi-retirement, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it. And that's just the fucking tip of the iceberg. My life has been interesting to say the very least, and the things I've done over the years..."

"You can't have done anything drastic enough to shock me, Vegeta. Your reputation certainly is as colourful as it is widespread. So you retired? Big deal."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and snickered. "Not exactly. Much more shocking."

"Oh, whatever! Let me guess... you fooled around with Raditz?"

" Ugh, I did do that! Why is that the first thing you think to ask, anyway? You've got a dirty mind, woman! It's not like we ever liked each other, though, so don't you dare judge me. It was just to burn off some steam and to get off, so I don't know what you call that. But he's been dead for several years now, so it doesn't really matter now."

Malar managed to get some of her drink up her nose and winced at the burn of alcohol. "What?!"

"Killed by his own brother and a Namekian. Turns out there was one more Saiyan out there after all, and when Raditz went to retrieve him, things didn't go so well. Intrigued by this, I travelled to the planet where the final Saiyan was residing..." he sighed and the memory of his own dying fluttered through his surface thoughts, "...and I wound up spending a great deal of time on that planet as well."

The tall mechanic accepted this story. After a few minutes, she decided to try for more information. "What about your bodyguard, Nappa?"

"He's dead too. I dispatched him after he suffered a debilitating spinal injury in battle."

"So it was a mercy killing, then?" Malar refilled her glass one more time.

Vegeta was very quiet for several minutes. "I guess it was, in some sense. A lifetime of paralysis would be unacceptable for any Saiyan warrior. He deserved to die at any rate."

The mechanic did not respond.

"Did you hear about Frieza?"

Malar looked up from her glass, weary eyes shiny with tears. "No..."

"Frieza is dead. So are Zarbon and Dodoria."

The towering mechanic let out a mournful sigh and shook her head. "That explains it, then..."

Vegeta scoffed. "Explains what?"

The Saiyan's question was enough to set Malar over the edge, and her eyes overflowed with tears in the span of two seconds. She turned her face away from Vegeta, took the rest of her drink as a long shot, wiped her eyes, and began telling a story that would leave the Saiyan stunned:

"I've worked on this station for eight years. The first three and a half, maybe four years, things were incredible, Vegeta. Business was booming: I made so much money that I didn't know how I could ever spend it all, and I had a staff of twelve. Not only was I happy, but I was also really content with life after spending five years on a miserable transit ship. I honestly thought about expanding this place and adding on a small lodging area for people who needed major repairs done to their ships. Not only that, but the man I'd met on 56 had become one of my finest employees and a valuable business partner. I was actually expanding my reach into the interplanetary courier sector. We were really close... we were discussing marriage. I loved him, and he loved me. And he was gorgeous. The plan was to work a few more years aboard the station together before we sold the place and found somewhere to live together.

Then things started going downhill. Frieza's presence always guaranteed protection. Business has been, or had been... incredible. I had a lot of people working for me. Saw a lot of trade. I built and shipped custom parts, repaired and restored all sorts of spacecraft and personal transit vehicles. Once Frieza died, and I'm guessing this happened about three or four years ago now, and his presence became a bit less perceptible, things started getting bad. Trade slowed down a lot and nobody could give me a good reason why things were so slow. We were first hit by a group of pirates about two... maybe two and a half years ago? They killed several patrons and managed to steal a great deal of money from one my accounts. There was another group of pirates that hit this place, but thankfully they just wanted money. And then, after one of my couriers was attacked mid-transit and apparently murdered when he landed at a station for medical help... oh, I lost one of my best connections! I was sending an order of custom made radiator resistors to a specialty manufacturer, and when they didn't show up they were furious! They haven't ordered any parts from me since then, and I don't know what to do because nobody will work as a courier for me now! Half my staff left after my courier was murdered, and the other six I forced myself to let go because I didn't want them to get hurt! My reputation is in ruins! And to make things worse, we were attacked by pirates again about six months ago, and since that we've had fewer and fewer customers because my name's synonymous with robbery, or... and death. If I don't get some major business soon..."

She broke down in sobs, covering her face and doubling over in her chair. Vegeta watched her cry, offering no comfort. He didn't know what to feel, but he did realize that he was directly responsible for Malar's sadness and suffering.

After five minutes of crying, Malar pulled herself together and heaved a sigh, her nose too clogged up to work normally. "I don't know what to do... the only thing I think I can do is try and keep this place up and running with what little money I have left... moving everything would cost too much... I suppose I could re-locate to Planet 79? Have you been 'round there lately, Vegeta? It's the last place I wanna go now, but I'd get hired at any shop there in no time."

Vegeta mentally prepared himself for what he was about to say. "Malar," he grimaced, "I need you to repair my ship. It's all electrical work. No special parts needed, I think. And believe me, I can pay you. I have a lot of money."

Malar stared at him with her eyes swollen from crying and nose still running, and reluctantly nodded. "Show me what's wrong. I'm drunk and depressed but could probably run a diagnostic and give you an estimate."