Disclaimer: I’m getting really tired of saying this. I do not own DBZ/GT or any of the characters, ‘cept for Serive, of course.

Author’s Note: Another short installment to my favorite fic, which will take forever for me to finish. But I have fun doing it.

I’d just like to take some time to thank my reviewers. I definitely don’t do it enough. It’s just that when I upload this stuff, it slips my mind. So, yes, THANK YOU ALL! I LOVE YOU!!! And to answer a question: Readers, remember in the chapter where Serive first takes control of Bulma, Serive says that she can store (and probably already has) a suggestion in Bulma’s mind for her to carry out in case of Serive’s death. That’s why she hasn’t been brutally beaten or any such thing. Though in the future, I will likely fit in an attempt for them to outsmart her… And, also, be advised that I don’t do action very well. There WILL eventually be action in this fic (hell, they’re going to help fight in a war), but not a lot. There is a battle in store, though.

And, yes, I know Serive is a very hatable character. I’m actually very proud that so many people detest her. Mwa hahaha… Am I looking for sympathy for her with all my angst scenes with her and such? It’s hard to say. I mean, you can feel sorry for someone and still hate them. Plus, even though she’s a terrible person, it’s still important to understand the background of a character. Not to mention, it can be so fun to write for mean people. And, keep in mind, I’m the kind of person who felt bad for Joaquin Phoenix’s character in Gladiator. Be sure, however, that her terrible behavior will contribute to the main ideas of the story. This is a long author’s note.

Anyway, so here’s another interlude, a glimpse into past events…

Interlude Two

Vejita's knee gave out from under him and he collapsed to the floor. With an angry grunt he flattened both palms against the wall and pulled himself up, resting his weight on his good leg. It wasn't exactly in perfect shape, but it was better than the other, which he was sure had some torn ligaments or tendons.

He would have been to his room by now, but as always he'd taken the long way through the rarely trekked passages. He'd gone this way for years, but recently he'd wondered why he'd even bothered anymore. It wasn't as if no one else knew of Freeza's more sadistic, perverted interest in him; that bulbous blob of a bastard Dodoria had no doubt been spreading the word among the ranks.

Well, there still was a reason he avoided the main halls. He couldn't stand to see the superior, mocking grins of those who hated him. He didn't want to feel the leers of those who wished the Ice-jin had torn off a bit more of his blue suit. He couldn't stand anyone seeing him like this, seeing that he wasn't as strong as he bragged himself to be.

He snarled at his thoughts. He would be the strongest one day God damn it. He would reach levels beyond anyone's comprehension, and then anyone who had ever dared to cross him in the slightest manner would pay. The first victim would be Freeza. The prince would beat him until the white alien was a colorful mix of purples, blacks, and blues. He would tear through the creature's flesh and tear out his innards. He would shatter every bone, rip apart all tissue, and crush each organ. Vejita would make the bastard pay the same way he had been treated: with perpetual suffering.

His better leg failed him and he fell again, but this time he was surprised to feel arms catch him under his arms. Vejita looked down at the pale arms latched around his scratched chest and holding him up, and growled when he saw the red nails on the fingers.

"Long time, no see," Serive grunted into his ear as she pulled the prince to his feet.

Vejita easily twisted out of her grip, but without the extra support he was forced to lean against the wall again. "I should have known my luck would run out," he growled.

"Asshole really did a number on you," Serive said with a wince.

"Like you care, bitch."

"Excuse me, but I believe you were the one who wasn't too kind to me in the first place,” she snapped in return.

"Do you want something?" Vejita snapped.

"No." Serive looked him over again. "Do you want me to help you to the infirmary?"

"No." Vejita set off on his way again, figuring she'd take the hint and leave him be.

But he had no such luck. "What do you mean 'no'?!" Serive squawked, following him, which wasn't really difficult at his stifled pace. "Look at you! You've been torn to shit."

"Why do you care?!" Vejita snarled.

Serive hesitated, and then replied, "I don't. It just drives me crazy when presumably semi-intelligent people do stupid things." She suddenly slipped an arm around his back and under his arm. "Where's your room?"

He smacked her away. "Mind your own fucking business!" He leaned towards her, holding up a ki-charged fist threatening. This unfortunately brought him away from the support of the wall, and he found himself on the floor again. Humiliated, Vejita refused to even look up at her.

Serive held in her sigh, though she did wonder why she was letting empathy get the best of her. She should just leave the idiot here to bleed until someone else found him, maybe someone will much less benevolence than she, someone who may reenact the tortures the poor prince had been put through.

Serive swallowed hard, thinking back over the past couple weeks, specifically on certain occurrences that she could never cut from herself, no matter how deeply she dug. She gazed down on Vejita, still frozen in frustration and anger on the floor, and was reminded on how the torture would never stop for either of them for as long as they were here. She needed to get out of here. She needed an ally.

She cursed herself. She could not leave him here.

“I will mind my own business,” she said calmly as she crouched down, “once you are either in the medical wing or in your room.”

Vejita looked up at her with his cold obsidian eyes. She had never seen such bitterness and hatred in her life, and somehow knew she’d never see anything quite like it again from any other being.

----

They saw few people on the way to Vejita’s room, but warning glares sent them quickly on their way. After ten minutes, the prince stopped her outside one of the plain steel blue doors that littered the hallway. He glared at her accusingly and she rolled her eyes and looked away as he tapped in his pass code on the numbered panel next to the door, which opened.

"I don't understand why you won't go to the medical center," Serive grumbled to herself as she helped him inside of his room and the door slid shut behind him. A ceiling light clicked on and the room was dimly lit.

Vejita was tired of her questions. "I can't go, okay?!" he hollered.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't go. It'd only cost me more injuries if I did."

"He's a real bastard, isn't he?" Serive muttered. She herself hadn’t received such an order after her… meetings with Freeza. Not yet, anyway. She supposed she could expect it once he realized she still wouldn’t break no matter how appalling the sessions were. And they were appalling.

"You have no idea," Vejita chuckled derisively, not noticing Serive’s expression, which said otherwise. He forcefully shrugged her off of him and limped over to the bed pushed against the far wall. He grunted as he leaned down and pulled a box out from under the bed.

Serive shoved the queasy thoughts from her mind and looked around the Saiyajin's room. "Home sweet home," she muttered. Despite what each room readily provided- bed, table, lamp, two chairs- the room was bare. There were no pictures, no knick-knacks, or anything decorative. Surely the soldiers had books (at least the smarter ones) or souvenirs from planets (the touristic or sadistic) or maybe even pets (the schizophrenic). She herself had picked up a few interesting items that she had placed on a shelf in her own quarters.

Vejita noticed her bewildered expression. "What?"

"You don't have any possessions?"

"No." Vejita opened the box, revealing some simple medical supplies, such as gauze, bandages, and antiseptic.

"Why not?"

"Hard to have any belongings when they were all fried when your planet was destroyed," was the cold answer.

Serive was quiet for a moment, then said softly. "Yes, they say it was a meteor."

"I'm surprised that's the version you heard."

Serive blinked. "What? What do you mean?" She waited for an answer, but the prince merely went back to attending his wounds the best he could. She exhaled with frustration. She hated being ignored. She wandered around the room a bit and found herself at the computer panel: a simple touch-activated screen provided in every room. She pressed at the menu options for a few moments until she came up with Vejita's assignment list. She was a bit awed at its length, but she remembered that he had been doing this longer than she, and he was more often than not sent with the company of his two yes men.

"Why are you still here?" Vejita asked.

Serive rolled her eyes. "I suppose you aren't much one for company. You seem to barely even tolerate those other two."

"That's not what I meant."

Serive turned back to him, and he was finishing off a bandage with some medical tape. “Eh?”

"I meant, why haven't you told Freeza what he wants to know yet?"

"Because I'd rather not have my planet suffer a similar fate as yours." Serive leaned against the wall. “Freeza has attempted to enlist my people as soldiers for quite some time, but we've always refused."

"Why didn't he destroy it then?"

"My otousan and he first met on Kreoko, not Wycan. Before that, we had heard through certain channels that Freeza was looking to enslave Wycan. Using our best shamans, we've been able to cloak our planet from any radars. Freeza doesn’t know where it is, so he can’t blow it up."

Vejita snorted. "For now."

Serive flushed and turned away. "Yes," she admitted.

“You can go now,” he said, setting to work on another wound. He didn’t look up and obviously expected her to go.

She raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t help but notice his wording. She ‘could’ go now? A way of kicking her out with authority and royal grace. She smirked, knowing she shouldn’t laugh. The poor guy was practically in denial. He probably still treated those other two as if he were the destined ruler of an entire planet.

It was hard not to feel sorry for him. Besides, she really did need an ally. Sympathy helped make him a good choice, not to mention their similar situations.

“You know…” Serive decided to venture where no other soldier had (or ever would). “I think it’s possible for us to be… friends.”

Vejita looked up and stared at her. Then, bluntly, he said, “Didn’t I just tell you to get the fuck out?!”

She took it back. It was easy not to feel bad for him.

She pressed a panel by the door and it slid open. “Well, then,” she grunted. “Fuck you too.” She shot him a glare before walking out. “And you’re welcome.”

“OUT!!”

“ASSHOLE!”

“BITCH!”

The doorway became empty, and the door slid shut. Vejita finished bandaging his wounds.