Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Second Chances for Bardock's Sons ❯ Almost Reunion ( Chapter 30 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z or Dragon Ball, Akira Toriyama does. The only thing I own is the Idsarjin and the OC Tomic, which mean no harm to the series. This is for entertainment only!

Vegeta's Celestial Gambit

Awaiting Reunion

***

On the planet of the Idsarjin, Idsar Prime, Bulma Briefs was lost in a daydream, standing there over the circuit panel she was welding. Light flashed from the soldering iron across the lenses of her goggles. She remembered the anger in Vegeta's face. How could she have been so stupid she wondered? It had been not but a month since she had last seen him, and already she missed him. Life went on as she worked with Bardock and the Idsarjin science team on the new Gravity Room technology. It had been a combined effort between the two of them to come up with this new method of training Saiyans to become stronger.

“Bulma, he will return soon,” said Bardock quietly. Other scientists wearing thin white smocks moved about, their bodies still visible through the diaphanous material. Only a few were Saiyans, and they were the silver haired half-breeds she often saw more than the full bloods lately.

“Who?” Bulma feigned innocence.

Bardock however could not be fooled. He snorted impatiently, “The Prince. You know you will have to face him eventually. He seemed quite taken with you at first, and then quite angry…”

“He's right,” came another voice. In the corner on guard just inside the door stood Bardock's older son Raditz. He had been assigned the task of looking after Bulma in the Prince's absence, making sure nobody approached her. Bulma had not taken long to figure out that it was Raditz that chased away any Idsarjin males from courting her. Idsjarins had multiple sex partners, so open relationships were quite the norm. Only when breeding did they settle down and become monogamous. Then when the breeding season was over, they resumed their ways. It was not uncommon for a female to have different children by different fathers.

“What's going on?” Bardock frowned, glancing up from his lab work to shot a glare at his longhaired son.

“I just got a transmission from Turles ship. He's returning from his latest mission. Seems he's gotten word that the Prince's latest survey mission was a success,” said Raditz.

“What mission WAS he on?” asked Bulma.

“Should we tell her?” Raditz asked.

“She might as well know, since she's had the privilege of building the GR technology. If it wasn't for her we wouldn't' have gotten it done in enough time,” said Bardock.

“Fine, Father,” mumbled Raditz. He cleared his throat and glanced down at the frail but defiant human girl who assisted his father with an intelligence that rivaled and surpassed the Saiyans and even the Idsarjin. Slowly he strode over; h is massive black boots pressing a bit violently into the floor. Bulma was grateful Idsarjin gravity was only a bit more then Earth's or she could not stand up on her own as she did now.

Impatiently Bulma folded her arms over the chest of her almost see through lab coat. “What's the deal? I worked HARD for this! What's Vegeta doing? And what's the deal with Zarbon? I mean LORD Zarbon. Last I heard Turles was running some mission for him, and Vegeta went on some purging mission. How were the two related?”

“Turles had been following certain legends. About an incredible treasure found on a far distant planet that the Cold family was possibly after. But nobody knew its location until a short time ago. The Mantissan database had a few accounts, but they were sparse. Turles was bartering for information from any other space pirates to find out if they were rumors,” said Raditz.

“And…” Bulma asked, leaning back against her lab counter, one hand bracing her body away from it.

“Turles found a goldmine. And the Prince and Nappa have finished their latest mission for Zarbon. They're returning from Zarbon's home planet with the Lord himself to have a victory feast on Idsar Prime,” Raditz said.

“A purging mission?” Bulma asked, her blue brows knitting in anger.

“No girl,” said Bardock with a shake of his head. “Let's just say the Prince and Nappa are VERY good at being galactic enforcers. Zarbon had some… trouble from some of Freeza's former henchmen. They didn't want to accept that he was being sympathetic to Saiyans. So Zarbon send them a message. And Vegeta was the messenger.”

“They haven't bothered them since,” Raditz grunted with pride.

“How many people died?” Bulma asked quietly, biting her lip.

“Enough. Zarbon's built quite a case to keep the Saiyans as his allies. It makes us look good so he can protect us from Frosta's whims. If she shared Freeza's fear that the Saiyans were uncontrollable…” trailed off Raditz.

“You told me that Frosta defeated your `Master Brolli'. Is that what made her scared of the Saiyans?”

“Yes. Till Lord Zarbon found out that Brolli was being manipulated by his father,” Bardock said.

“You never SAID that,” whispered Bulma fiercely. “How many people know?”

“Just those loyal to the Prince. We suspected it, but had no proof. But Vegeta and Nappa's mission brought the necessary evidence. Seems that Paragus did a little deal with Freeza's henchman Dudoria. He gave him a mind control device that brainwashed our Legendary,” Raditz confessed.

“That's one of the pieces of technology I was trying to fathom,” Bardock confessed. “And why I authorized you to help us on the GR project. You took up the slack and proved your worth. And for that you have my gratitude and that of the Saiyan race…”

“Or what remains of it?” Bulma couldn't resist adding.

“Granted we are reduced to a precious few. But it's hoped that Brolli can be `cured' of his mental breakdown. Zarbon has ties to psychic doctors on his world, who are thorough,” said Bardock.

“You told me he was `sent away' for a year,” Bulma blinked at him.

“We didn't say where. But you deserve to know, after what you've accomplished. And it's best you're in the loop before his majesty returns,” Bardock said. “If I'm right, Raditz?”

“Indeed. This is why you should ready yourself, Bulma. I'm supposed to take you to rendezvous with Turles ship with the GR prototype,” Raditz said.

“I know you discussed that, but I still don't see why we can't bring him here,” said Bulma.

“Hasn't your time here taught you anything girl?” Bardock sighed, shaking his head. “The last thing we need is for something to go wrong. You know well why we're sending you and I'm staying here to continue work. This is the only working prototype, and the Prince will be meeting you on Turles ship. Vegeta wasn't coming back HERE…”

“But…”

“No buts. You'd better get started. Raditz will take you to your quarters. How long does she have?” asked Bardock.

“A twelfth part of a planetary rotation,” Raditz glanced at the hourglass nearby.

“All right. Sheesh everyone's so damn paranoid around here,” Bulma grumbled. She wandered over and pressed a button on the side of the spherical space capsule they had constructed. Oddly enough she had fought the urge to paint the Capsule logo on it, but was pleasantly surprised to see it was there, under the Vegetasei pitchfork styled logo. Smoke flooded the room, clearing to reveal a small capsule that lay in Bulma's palm. She slipped it into the case hanging at her hip, and then walked over to where Raditz stood tapping his foot. Bardock waved his goodbye, and then returned to what he was doing.

Along the way, they passed through the marble column corridors of the bright science complex. Pools of purple water reflected the light green sky, illuminated by two huge bright stars gleaming down. In some of the pools Idsarjin slaves splashed and entertained their higher-ranking royals. Only the upper class and soldiers bore the ceremonial stripes, their fur shaved to a thin coat that glistened gold. Slaves had their fur much longer, indicating they had not the time to attend to evaluating their status such. Long leashes trailed behind them, attached to gold or silver collars around their throats. Raditz grasped the end of Bulma's leash, though she was well behaved. He had to keep up appearances for the sake of their Idsarjin hosts.

Bulma strode ahead of him, her body gliding under the light gauzy veil skirt covering her leather shorts and tall hip boots. A halter-top of blue leather encased her bosom, over which another veil was loosely wrapped. The ends trailed like a comet's tail behind her. All female slaves and servants dressed in the minimal leather bustier tops and short pants. Males wore loincloths and a minimal veil wrapped around their bared chests in an X. Royalty wore even more scant leather briefs, hip boots jointed to the pants by a chain, and then a band of leather encasing the breasts, without any veil to hide their curvaceous figures. The higher up you were the more flesh you could show. Male royalty only wore loincloths, their legs, and arms painted with the red stripes on their shaved fur. Only their black and silver hair was left long to stream down their backs. Bulma's blue hair was similar in hue to many of the purple and aqua of the female Idsarjin royalty and upper class, so it wasn't too much of a distraction.

Only occasionally did she see a Saiyan wearing full armor, or an Idsarjin male similarly dressed. All Idsarjin females wore no armor unless actually on guard duty. Female Saiyans, usually half-breeds with bluish black hair wore armored vests and brief spandex shorts, along with tall white boots or leg cuffs. Fasha was an example of this. Raditz long h air swayed back and forth, his grip on Bulma's leash at the bare minimum.

“I bet you miss Tomic,” said Bulma softly.

“I have. It will be good to see her again. When she has called me she has said she's increased her power considerably,” Raditz nodded with pride. Bulma shuddered inwardly, realizing what that meant. She had read up on how Turles increased his power. Usually they scoped out worlds with civilization on the brink of collapse, or who were enemies of Zarbon's people. Then the life force would be sucked out as his Shinseju trees took root. It was a grand scale Purge, leaving the planet a dry desert. Then the terraformers could rebuild it into any sort of villa a member of the Cold Family could want.

All Saiyan teams were at their own discretion to purge in any manner they saw fit. Bulma felt a lump in her throat at the thought of what Vegeta and Nappa were doing. She pretended indifference, but Raditz knew better as he saw the disgust on her face.

“We do what we have to, Bulma, to survive. Like you humans did. Consider Earth lucky they had enough to pay their ransom,” said Raditz.

“But not for the Dragon balls you mean,” she whispered. He nodded sternly. The corridor took them towards the spaceport, where a pod awaited their departure. Bulma knew she would have to be cramped in a small tin baseball with the tall warrior, but it hardly fazed her. Raditz was already mated, and being around him was almost as reassuring as being around Goku.

How she missed him. Yamcha either had moved on, or was wrought with grief. Bulma sniffled, feeling the absence of the locket she had lost a while ago. Raditz sighed, realizing that the female still mourned the loss of her home world for the choice she had made. If only she could realize how privileged she was to be one of Vegeta's personal slaves. It was far better than death or being sold to Zarbon's people. Even Turles would treat her well, if he was still interested in dallying. Ever since he mated for life, he had still kept a few female slaves for his crew.

“All ready for you, Sergeant!” waved one of the pod techs, a tall Idsarjin male with a helmet and armored green vest.

“Good. Now beat it,” Raditz grunted, tugging Bulma's leash towards the nearest pod resting in its steaming alcove. Like a large bowl, the spaceport's walls curved up in three dimensions. At the middle of the bottom was a resilient soft landing pad. Pods launching were contained in cradles along the upper walls of the rounded shelves above. He had to lift Bulma and levitate to its open door, and then set her on the small access ledge before contorting himself to sit. Bulma was forced to sit across his lap crosswise or between his large knees on the seat. She chose to sit on the pod floor however, because there was just enough room to do so, with her back resting against the bottom of the seat. Raditz shrugged, pushing the control to allow the door to swing shut. Bulma gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the thrust upward as the engines fired.