DISCLAIMER: Akira Toriyama created DBZ, not me.
Chapter 4 - Treason
Three hours dragged by
at a snail's pace as she watched Vegeta heal. The strange green tinge
from the blood and fluid mixing had disappeared. She figured it was
a good sign. She had tried to see for herself if the wound was gone,
but the concave glass for viewing the patients made everything warped when
she got close and tried to look down at Vegeta's waist. She sighed
in irritation and sat down across from him, against the wall. After
about a half hour she felt her eyelids drooping…
She was jolted awake by
a loud, persistent beeping. She saw Vegeta glaring at her as he tapped
insistently on the glass. She quickly jumped to her feet as a hairline
crack appeared in the glass and dashed to the console to begin draining.
The fluid line went down rapidly without so much as a sound. Bulma
had studied the outside of the chamber as much as she could, and was fascinated
by what she saw so far. But before she took one apart to study and
make diagrams, she had to see if it worked.
Vegeta had already torn off the sensors and
breathing mask and soon the fluid line dipped beneath the hatch and it
swung open. Bulma's eyes bulged in shock as Vegeta stepped out fully
healed. The only sign of the wound was a tiny, pink scar and his
shorts which were still slightly stained with blood.
"Holy shit!" she exclaimed.
"What?" Vegeta said with
a frown.
"I can't believe how well
these work! I have to disassemble it and see how it works!" She cried
excitedly.
"What?!" He snapped, now
confused and annoyed. How the hell was she going to take it apart?
And why waste such time?
"It will revolutionize
hospitals and health-care! Think of all the possibilities right in
front of me!" she breathed, almost awed. Vegeta was momentarily silenced
by her beauty as her eyes sparkled with wonder. But why was she so
fascinated by the regeneration tank? He knew Chikyuu was primitive,
but if this was such a great discovery to her, what did they have now to
treat injuries and disease? He shuddered to think, remembering the
strange things some backward cultures did to heal the sick.
He was glad that Saiyans
were immune to all but the most aggressive virus. Before his time
with Frieza he'd never known disease. He'd never dreamt of such a
thing. Injuries from fighting he understood, but an invisible tiny
… thing, that could slowly eat you away until only skin and bones were
left filled him with revulsion.
And it was because of
Frieza that he came to know of diseases. He'd been sent to purge
a planet about ten years ago. He remembered being pissed because
of the natives battle strength. They were about as weak as Chikyuu-jins.
It was pathetic.
But once there he hadn't
even needed to fight. The race was already dying. He saw wasted
corpses everywhere. Some still lived, but they burned with fever
and ranted with their delusions of slow, fiery death.
He should have left immediately.
But he didn't know. He informed the tyrant who held his life in check
that everyone was dropping dead before his eyes. When he thought
back on it later, he wanted to believe that Frieza knew all along the state
of the planet he'd sent him to; that everything he'd said after his report
was nothing but a superb act. But logic and his own memory defied
that thought.
Frieza had immediately
ordered him back and to report to medical before he did anything else upon
his return. He'd noted a hint of concern in the lizard's voice.
Not for Vegeta himself, of course. He wasn't stupid and wasn't even
tempted with entertaining such a notion. When he reflected back on
all that would happen next, he knew Frieza would have had a third of his
army wiped out in one sweep if anyone came into contact with him.
Thus the hint of concern. He was no fool.
But at the time he didn't
know what was going on, only that he must obey or die. And he could
not die by Frieza's hands. He smiled bitterly at his past ambition.
But ignored that train of thought and continued with the previous.
He had done as ordered.
He went to medical and they examined him and after a half hour of humiliating
"testing" they let him go, finding nothing.
The next day he woke feeling
slightly nauseated. Being completely unfamiliar with the sensation,
he ignored it and headed for the morning briefing. He was tired and
sluggish as he trudged through the halls as well, but shrugged it off as
lack of sleep. As he stood in Frieza's audience with half of his
men on the ship a curious feeling came over him. First he was hot.
So hot that he broke out into a sweat. Then he began to shiver as
his blood seemed to be replaced with ice water. Then he felt hot
again, then cold alternating over and over. In addition to that,
he was getting very dizzy and sitting down seemed like the most important
thing to do at the moment. He heard someone gasping. Deep,
heaving breaths that did not stop. After a moment he realized it
was him, but that didn't really matter because the floor was suddenly rushing
up to meet his face.
How long had he been unconscious?
Probably only a few minutes, he never had thought to ask. But he
woke back in medical with three familiar faces staring down at him.
Two were doctors who had treated him before, the other was Frieza.
He was arguing with the doctors. Telling them to put him in the tank.
They assured him that without the right remedy it would only speed that
Saiyan's demise. He remembered smiling as Frieza cursed. But
the smile faded quickly. He was still having sweats and chills and
his stomach was twisting in agony. His head was pounding, another
new experience for him, and his vision was so blurred he could really only
tell who was who by hearing them speak. He couldn't catch their scent,
his nose was curiously clogged.
".. look at his pupils.
See how he shakes? These are the first signs of the burning death,
it will only get worse."
"How is this possible?
Half of this galaxy belongs to me! Tell me where to find this shit!
I need this damn monkey! If he dies, you will all die with him."
"Knassas, sir. Three
days trip going full speed in this ship. A pod would take over a
week. He will not last more than four days, even with the Saiyan's
healing ability. This disease cripples the immune system long enough
to kill the host. It has two components which make it so deadly.
Some cells head for the immune system, the rest work on shutting down everything
else. It was engineered about two-hundred years ago by-"
"Yes, yes, I don't need
a history lesson. I know what happened next. I was hoping it
wasn't the same one." Frieza snapped and then, faintly he could hear the
lizard making demands over the communications link.
Then there was bright
light. The pain was like a knife between his eyes. He cried
out in agony, unable to hold it back and struggled to get away. Firm
hands held him down easily, was he that weak? He couldn't figure
out what had happened. All that was certain was that he'd never felt
more wretched in his life. His stomach was about to rebel but he
felt tiny pricks of pain and then all faded.
When he woke he was told
that two weeks had passed. He ate all the food offered to him and
promptly vomited it back up. He would have been repulsed seeing as
it was yet another first for him, but was too disoriented to really notice.
The days melted into a haze of fever dreams broken by waking to Frieza
screaming obscenities at the doctors. He wondered if he would die,
but supposed that he already would have by that time. He had begun
to wish that he would, instead of lingering for days in a stupor.
The pain was not nearly as intense, the pounding in his head had subsided
to a dull throbbing, but his stomach seemed to be eating itself from hunger.
Then he woke from a dream
in which he'd been forced into a boiling cauldron and found several doctors,
Frieza, Nappa and Radditz hovering over him. He tried to speak, but
his tongue was swollen. He wasn't sure what to say anyway.
Except perhaps, that he might die of starvation before anything else.
The gnawing hunger was foremost in his mind then, nothing else. Not
the fever, not the cold, and not the now-familiar ache behind his eyes.
"Will he live much longer?"
it was Nappa, and how strange he'd sounded! Tired and grieving, not
like himself at all! Frieza, as always was cool and controlled, but
he detected barely restrained rage behind the smooth voice.
"He must." Was all he
said.
"I thought this stuff
was supposed to work." Radditz snarled. The doctors assured him that
it was, but it took hours to begin to work.
After that, everything
faded to black.
The next time he woke it
was pitch dark and his stomach was roaring in fury. The pain was
intense, as if his stomach was eating itself. He felt a little better
though. The room had stopped spinning, his head still hurt a little,
but it was nothing compared to before, and his core temperature seemed
to be normal. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed
and stepped down. His legs trembled, but he did not collapse.
Walking was more difficult,
he found himself staggering to the door, and then down the hall.
He needed food.
He spotted Kuui in one
of the winding corridors as he stumbled to the mess hall. Kuui immediately
turned around and ran the other way. Curious. He'd always stopped
to insult the young Saiyan before.
But he wasn't about to
question his good luck. Finally he made it and lurched into the freezer
and began to devour everything he could. Large slabs of meat were
skeletonized in minutes. And thankfully he was able to keep it all down.
Finally, after he'd eaten
his fill and the freezer was quite bare, he realized that he felt perfectly
fine. His head felt better, he felt a bit of his old strength returning
as well. Frieza found him with almost a smile on his face.
And strangely the tyrant did not hide his pleasure that Vegeta was well.
He gave him the rest of the day to himself and informed him that tomorrow
he'd join Nappa and Radditz on a mission.
And that was it.
So was this why he was letting
the onna indulge in this seeming waste of time? Perhaps, but what
did it matter to him if she could duplicate a regeneration tank?
He shook himself out of
the daydream. Bulma was already busy. She tossed a capsule
to the floor which popped into a huge tool box. Vegeta was stunned.
If they had this unheard of technology, why no healing chambers?
He shook his head at the oddities of humanity.
Bulma felt a tap on her
shoulder as she began to unscrew a bolt with a large wrench.
"Hmm?" she said, turning
to face him. "It did work, right?" she said, realizing that she hadn't
bothered to ask how he felt. "Do you feel alright?" she said, noticing
a strange look on his face.
"What do you care?" he
snapped, more out of reflex than anything else. She threw him a hurt,
reproachful glance and returned to her work.
"Sorry for caring." She
muttered.
"I don't want your petty
human 'caring'. Sentiment makes me retch. I was only going to tell
you that I will load the ship and come get you. Be done with this
foolishness by then."
"Fine!" she huffed and
proceeded to ignore him.
He found several stores
of perishable food which he crammed into the extra-large refrigerator.
He even packed in tons of dry goods into the unused spaces of the ship
until it was literally stuffed with food. He also found more combat
uniforms but no armor or gloves in his size and the uniforms were black.
He preferred blue, but it was better than nothing. And he was unable
to find any boots! The lack of armor confused him, but it didn't
much matter. So he was bare foot. He'd rather have armor than
boots or gloves. He had sufficient clothing, that was good enough
for the moment.
Now that the ship had
enough food he should check the fuel, but again, he was unable to read
the onna's strange symbol language and was forced to seek her assistance.
He was shocked to find
the tank nearly unrecognizable. Bulma looked up as she heard his
step and her eyes lit up, and strangely enough, gave Vegeta goose bumps.
But he didn't notice as the onna immediately began to squeal excitedly.
"Its amazing Vegeta! And
the best part is I will be able to duplicate it! My father will be
so excited when he sees this!" She had black smudges on her clothing
and skin, but for some reason it seemed to enhance her beauty. She
continued to prattle on as he stared stupidly. He came out of his
trance with an abrupt toss of his head. What the hell was wrong with
him? Why was his admitted attraction to the onna becoming so distracting?
Was it because he didn't want it? It would make sense. It was
always his luck. Whatever he'd ever craved was forever denied him.
Whatever he wanted to keep away was always thrust in his face.
He realized that the room
had abruptly gone silent and that he was staring.
"I told you to be done
when I got back." She sat up straighter and he saw her eyes narrow.
"You can't be done already."
She replied.
"I will as soon as you
show me how to refill the fuel tank and what kind of fuel it takes.
Hopefully its not something native to your wretched planet."
"Oh Kami, no." she said,
her voice dripping with disdain. "It would be an unspeakable tragedy
to be stuck here with the almighty Saiyan no Ouji forever." She turned
away with her nose in the air.
"Damn wench!" Vegeta snarled.
"I have no time for your stupidity. Now hurry up or you won't have
time to finish with this hunk of metal. Which, by the way, I don't
see how an idiot like you could possible rebuild it, let alone to function."
Bulma shot to her feet with surprising swiftness, her face a dull, angry
red.
"Why are you such an asshole?
Why can't you at least be civil for five seconds? What the hell is
wrong with you? I was in a good mood and you've ruined it!
Why does everyone have to be as miserable as you?" she ended, shouting.
His dark eyes narrowed
and the corner of his mouth slid up in a twisted sneer.
"I doubt you know what
true misery is." He replied. He looked as if he would say more, but
merely shrugged as if he'd completely lost interest in the argument.
"Come on." He said, and headed back to the ship without even looking to
see if she'd follow.
She was enraged by his
casual dismissal of her reasonable anger. His arrogance was disgusting!
Who the hell did he think he was? But she followed him regardless,
planning her next assault.
"I'm sure you know what
misery is." She began, her voice flat and calm. "You've seen it in
each face of those you've murdered!" she finished with a hiss.
"The pain of other's is
not my concern." He said coldly, not turning to look at her. He continued
walking with an easy grace that Bulma couldn't help but admire. Nor
could she ignore how attractive he was in the black body suit. But
her anger would not allow her to dwell on it for more than a moment.
"Is that so? Then
why did you stay with me last night when I asked you to?" she snapped,
delight barely hidden in her voice. He almost stopped in his tracks.
She had him, damn it. The question had been plaguing him as well.
Why had he stayed with her?
He knew why, but his pride
forbade him to even think it. Finally he stopped walking as the silence
stretched. He didn't know what to say. The truth was out of
the question. But why bother to lie? Better to say nothing.
So he ignored her and
continued walking.
"Coward." She hissed.
Before she could draw
a breath to scream his hands were around her neck.
"I should kill you now!"
he bellowed. "You have no right to question me! I owe you no
explanations! And don't worry, I won't make the mistake of pitying
your ass again!" and he shoved her back. She landed on her butt and
winced as pain shot up her spine.
What the hell was she
doing? Did she want to die? Or was that even an appropriate
question? Of course it was. She was only alive to fly the ship.
Nothing more. It was the only reason he hadn't just snapped her neck.
She bit her lip, feeling stupid for her outburst. She had no right
to call him a coward either. He was utterly fearless.
But he was just so mean! She quickly got to her feet, brushed the
dirt from her clothes, and trotted after Vegeta.
Once inside the ship Bulma
explained the controls for fueling and then took off, heading to the base.
They flew it in the landing bay and they silently attached hoses to the
ship that would carry the combustible fluids to the holding tanks.
Once they were finished Bulma cleared her throat.
"Vegeta." she said softly.
She saw him stiffen and he silently turned to face her. For a moment
her courage failed her as she was pierced by his angry, ebony eyes.
"I'm sorry." She said
softly, her eyes falling to stare at her feet. "I didn't mean what
I said. I just wanted to know…" She trailed off.
"Fine." He muttered
"Finish up with the tank so we can leave." He then turned away without
another word and headed inside the ship.
She had finished all her
drawings about two hours later. She found him inside, asleep.
Only four hours had passed since he'd come out of the tank. He'd
slept in there, and that had been only about a half hour after they woke
together with his tail around his waist. How long had he been missing
out on sleep? She turned away and headed back to the controls and
began the lift-off procedure.
I should wake him..
I don't know where he wants to go. It will take about a month to
get home. Longer if I have to drop him off. What if he wants
to go the opposite way of Chikyuu? She dashed back to the bedroom
and suddenly the ship took off! She was flung onto the bed with a
shriek. The computerized voice was supposed to warn her before lift
off! But the thought was quickly swept away as they broke through
the atmosphere. She could feel herself reeling backwards. Her
eyes widened as her fall was abruptly halted. She felt the collar
of her shirt choking her as Vegeta grasped the fabric in back.
"Let go." She rasped and
she was falling again. She landed in a heap and she sat up quickly
to shoot the Saiyan an evil glare. He lay on his back, yawning and
stretching languidly. And she was once again struggling between rage
and desire as she stared at him. He rolled back and forth a few times
and was again sleeping as if nothing had happened. His tail flicked
lazily, back and forth and she again felt the desire to touch it.
Why she continually felt compelled each time she saw it, she couldn't say.
She had briefly felt the silky fur before. Wasn't that enough?
Something about the way Vegeta reacted upon catching her increased her
curiosity. She felt like she'd taken a dare at a pre-teen sleep-over.
She felt giddy with excitement as she crept near.
Her hands hovered over
it for a moment as nervous tension stilled all movement. She prayed
he wouldn't wake before she'd gotten to touch it. She felt a blush
stain her cheeks. She suddenly felt like Master Roshi staring at
a nudie magazine.
Stop it.
She mentally scolded. And before she was fully aware she was twirling
the tip of the silky tail around her fingers. Then she gently grasped
the appendage and stroked it from base to tip. The sudden response
she got was the least expected. Vegeta moaned softly and his tail
snaked around her waist pulling her close. His arms wrapped around
her and she froze in fear. But he was still asleep, she could tell
by his breathing. It had quickened slightly, but nothing more.
What really concerned her was the sudden hardness she felt pressing to
her ass as he unconsciously pulled her close. She shook her head,
amazed at her own stupidity. Now Vegeta was going to freak if he
woke up. What was she going to say? Suddenly his hands began
to roam across her body. Was he awake?
"Vegeta?" she whispered.
TBC…