DISCLAIMER: DBZ I
do not own.
~*~ To Hell, allegiance!
Vows, to the blackest devil! ~*~
~*~ Conscience and grace,
to the profoundest pit! ~*~
~*~ I dare damnation: to
this point I stand - ~*~
~*~ That both worlds I
give to negligence, ~*~
~*~ Let come what comes;
~*~
- Laerties from ‘Hamlet’
~*~
“Bulma! Bulma! Get your worthless hide out
here!” The hoarse cry echoed around the blue haired beauty and Bulma sighed,
putting down the miniscule screwdriver she’d been holding and pushing her
latest invention carefully to one side.
“What is it, Oitaroh?”
Bulma shouted back loudly, his dislike for the warrior obvious in her
disrespectful tone.
“Turles wants you in the
main room, now!” Oitaroh, Turles’
right hand man and constant brown noser, appeared in the doorway of Bulma room
and leaned against the doorframe, impatiently shifting his weight from one foot
to the other as he waited for her to put away her tools and tidy her desk.
“Come on, come on! He said to be
quick.” He snapped at her irritably as Bulma made a big show of very slowly
sweeping her desk clean from dust.
“I said I was coming, be patient for once in your life.” Bulma
growled at him and finished cleaning her desk, not impressed with the snarl he
dealt her in return. She had once seen Turles pound Oitaroh into a wall and
almost kill him because he had dared to strike Bulma.
Oitaroh had never touched
her again.
Deliberately walking as
slowly as she could, Bulma followed Oitaroh down the long winding hallway
towards the main room. She was faintly aware of the hum of the big spaceship’s
engines under her feet but mostly her concentration was taken up by the
thoughts that whirred frighteningly around in her mind.
Maybe he knows, Bulma thought to herself
as she neared the entrance to the room that Turles spent almost every waking
minute in. Maybe he somehow found out
that I’m pregnant and he’s going to make me get rid of it…
Bulma roughly shook her
head as if trying to dispel the thoughts from her head. Turles couldn’t know
she was carrying his child, she wasn’t even sure of it yet herself.
“My Lord.” Bulma entered
the room and bowed respectfully in Turles’ before she moved to stand beside
him, her eyes dutifully lowered to the ground in submission.
Turles was gazing out the
window of the ship, his muscular arms folded and his tail curled delicately
around his waist. He turned his head to watch her as she crossed the room, and
once again Bulma saw something more animal then human sweep through his eyes as
he watched her.
He was dressed in his
usual green and black standard issue armour with the red trim, his hands were
covered in finger-less black gloves and he wore simple black boots with red
tips on his feet. Despite the simple battle armour, Turles managed to look both
frightening and awesome; Bulma shivered as her eyes swept over him. It might
have been in the haughty way he stood, or perhaps it was just the defiant look
in his eyes but he always looked imposing.
“Tell me Bulma; have you
ever heard of the planet Kramned?” Turles’ voice was a velvety growl and Bulma
shivered again as the tenor of his voice raised goose bumps on her arms.
“The planet
Kramn…Kramned?” Bulma stumbled over the unfamiliar word and blushed as Turles
chuckled. “No, my lord, I haven’t heard of it.” She resisted the urge to roll
her eyes or slap him for asking such a stupid question - after all, it wasn’t
like she’d spent her entire life travelling through space like Turles had. She
didn’t have a huge knowledge of the galaxy like him and he knew it!
“I didn’t think you
would, but I decided to ask anyway.” Turles unfolded his arms and looked at her
sideways as he spoke, looking ever so slightly amused at the ferocious
indignation in her blue eyes.
“Why?” Bulma bit the word
out angrily. Turles often did this to her – humiliated her in front of her men
and made her feel like a backwater hick.
“Why?” Turles repeated slowly
as though he hadn’t heard her properly. “Because we’re landing there tomorrow
and we’re going to get rid of the extremely dangerous natives and then sell the
planet at a more then fair price to a buyer.” His eyes moved from her face to
look back out the window and Bulma followed his gaze expecting to see a planet
in the distance, and indeed she could just discern a small blue and yellow orb
in the distance.
“Which buyer? Why are the
natives so dangerous?” Bulma folded her arms and tried not to look as irritated
as she felt. Why was Turles telling her all this? Why was he humiliating her
again? Had she done something wrong?
“The buyer is none of
your concern, but as for the natives…well, they very much are your concern.”
Turles looked down at the ground and then back at the window, his sight zeroing
in on the yellow and blue planet they were approaching. “You see, the natives
of Kramned, or the Kramnamians as they prefer to be called, have a certain
habit of attacking foreigners - more precisely in attacking females.” Turles
paused to see if Bulma was paying attention. He met her eyes and the full force
of his dark gaze hit her. “So, when we set down tomorrow, I want you to keep
out of sight.” He raised a hand and touched the side of her face fleetingly.
“Well that won’t be a
problem, I would hardly want to watch you murder another race.” Bulma pulled
away from his hand and looked pointedly away. “It was bad enough to have to
watch you kill my own.” Bulma added the last sentence in a hushed undertone, hoping
her captor wouldn’t hear it.
Turles’ ear twitched and
he frowned. “Tell me, Bulma, would you have rather me not told you of the
danger forthcoming?” Bulma could almost feel the anger vibrating off his skin
and she swallowed convulsively, forcing her mouth to form words.
“I…I guess I would have
wanted to know.” Bulma admitted reluctantly, looking back at the floor.
“Exactly. So stop
whining.” Turles’ glanced back at her, looking her up from head to toe. “I
wouldn’t want to lose someone like you, you’re far to valuable.” His voice
roughened and he smirked at her. Against her will Bulma found herself blushing
and she silently berated herself on her show of femininity.
“Am I valuable?” Bulma
asked softly, wondering if Turles was going to admit how he really felt about
her…if he liked her or despised her or just saw her as a whore to be used.
“Of course.” Turles
nodded once. “You’re a brilliant scientist. Your inventions are priceless to us
and therefore you are too.” He looked away from her again, his profile giving
away none of his inner thoughts.
“Oh.” Bulma couldn’t hide
the tone of rejection. He didn’t find her
valuable, just her brain.
“You may return to our
quarters, I’ll join you in a short while.” Turles waved a hand to dismiss her
and Bulma turned and left, her cheeks burning at the looks the other men gave
her as she stalked past.
Sometimes Turles could be
such a bastard…
~*~
Goku stared regretfully
down at the creature he had just killed and a great swell of pity swept through
him for the aliens as he watched his brother, his own flesh and blood, take
down five more of the tiny beings in a blast of ki; their blood splattering his
face and body and mattering his long hair.
“Kakarot, you fool! Just
don’t stand there gawking!” Vegeta’s voice cut through his melancholy and the
prince of all Saiyans appeared next to him briefly, his face set in its usual
ferocious scowl. “We’re not here to sight see you know!” He paused long enough
to deal Goku a menacing look before disappearing again to continue his mindless
slaughter of the planet’s inhabitants.
“Oh really, you think?”
Goku snapped at the empty space where Vegeta had been. He launched himself into
the air again; hating what he had become and hating the others for making him
do this. He caught another of the creatures off guard and wrapped his hands
around its neck, crushing the delicate bones with an audible crackle before
letting the lifeless body drop from his hands.
Goku shuddered with
revulsion and kept fighting. He had been forced to do what he did for his
family and his friends - for Chichi, Gohan, Krillen, Yamcha and Bulma. He had
become what he hated most to keep them safe back on Earth and one day soon he’d
go back and see them again, reassure them that he was still alive and well.
Goku phased behind
another of the aliens and snapped its neck cleanly then shot a Kamehameha wave
at three more that were charging at him - desperately firing weak ki blasts in
an attempt to kill him. Crouched in a defensive position, Goku waited for more
of the aliens to attack him…but none came and an eerie silence descended on the
four Saiyan warriors who hovered above the barren, charred and pock marked
battlefield.
“What pathetic creatures,
almost as weak as Earthlings,” Nappa commented, his eyes sliding sideways to
see what effect his comment would have on Goku.
Goku ignored him. He
stared balefully at the thousands of bodies that were littered across the
ground, his prayers to Kami for forgiveness more important in his mind then any
snide comment Nappa might make.
“Come on, let’s not waste
more time then we have to here.” Vegeta dusted off his armour and yawned in
boredom. “We have to rendezvous with Frieza in two days time and pick up our
wages for blowing away these insignificant creatures.” He looked disdainfully
at a patch of blood on his glove and his mouth twisted in annoyance.
“Yeah, let’s blow this
joint.” Raditz glowered at his brother before launching himself into the air
and following his prince back to their pods. Goku followed at a more leisurely
pace, his thoughts back on his family and Earth.
He wondered how they were
doing.
~*~
Bulma dropped her
screwdriver with a squeal of surprise as two hands closed on her shoulders and
lifted her bodily from her chair, dumping her unceremoniously onto the bed.
Turles grinned at her
shocked and unhappy expression as he pulled off his chest armour and jumped
onto the bed next to her, his tail lashing about in excitement as he pinned her
down and kissed her, his hands exploring and ruthlessly manipulating her body.
“Turles…I was in the
middle of something,” Bulma complained, aware of his sudden good mood and wary
of it.
“Whatever it is you can finish it later. I want to play.” Turles grinned wider and let Bulma wiggle from his grasp before pouncing on her again and pinning her to the bed. Bulma shrieked louder as he made as if to bite her, then let her wiggle free again and scramble from the bed so he could watch her movements through narrowly slitted obsidian eyes.
Turles’ idea of ‘play’
was much like a cat playing with a mouse before it devoured it. He’d chase her
around, occasionally knock her to the ground, sometimes pin her to the bed or
mock bite her. Sometimes he did much more, things that Bulma winced even
thinking about.
But all in the spirit of
play of course!
“Turles! This isn’t
funny!” Bulma screamed loudly and fell to the floor with an ‘oomph!’ as Turles grabbed her ankles
and pulled her legs out from under her. He kept a tight hold on her ankles and
Bulma squirmed around but was still unable to get free. In a bold movement
Bulma suddenly changed tactics and threw herself in his direction.
Turles let go of her
ankle and for a moment Bulma was pleased to see a surprised expression on his
face, then she crashed into him and skidded across the floor, gently bumping
into the wall.
Bulma laid half on
Turles’ chest, panting, and pushed a strand of blue hair behind her ear. He
caught her hand in his and pulled her down until she was lying on him, then he
rolled over so he was on top and kissed her, his sharp canines pressed against
her lips but not drawing blood.
“See what you do to me?”
Turles murmured as he drew back to take a breath. “I can’t control myself when
I’m with you.” He was softly purring now and his tail was running up and down
her body in long sweeping movements.
Bulma rested her head on
his chest and wondered why she didn’t fight him. “I know.”
“Is it like that with you
too?” He asked, his hands stroking her soft hair and pulling her face away from
his chest so he could look into her eyes.
Bulma blinked, genuinely
taken aback by his question. “Sometimes. When I’m with you I forget everything.
I forget that all the people I love are dead and that my planet has been destroyed.
I even forget that it’s you who did it.” Bulma voice was soft and she glanced
up at him then lowered her eyes again. “I won’t lie to you, Turles, I don’t
like you very much. But I respect you and I respect the way you treat
me...well, most of the time.”
“How do I treat you?”
Turles’ voice was deceptively bland as if he didn’t really care about the
answer but somehow Bulma had the feeling that he did care.
“You treat me like you
treat the others - except for the bedroom part and the constant belittlement in
front of your men…” Bulma trailed off to let Turles kiss her then continued.
“You listen to what I say and seem to hold my ideas in consideration. I
appreciate being treated like I matter.” She looked at Turles devilishly from
under her long lashes and tried to distract him away from the conversation.
Apparently it worked as
Turles was silent for a moment but when he spoke again his voice was a husky
growl and he said only one thing before kissing her again with a blinding
force. “That’s because you do matter, you matter far more then you can possibly
imagine.”
~*~