Chapter 42

Bulma turned what she hoped was the last screw and stood, looking around the room as she drew a forearm across her forehead. Yes, the technicians had done a wonderful job in their construction of the room and had gotten a pretty correct start on the central gravity controls, leaving her to perfect and finish the job. Which, she hoped, she had just done. She sighed and wiped her greasy hands on her clothes. Now to find him and tell him. The thought of Vegeta made her stomach clench and brought a growl to her throat. He was around, just as she had asked, but only occasionally and he seemed to make a point of avoiding her. He was either nowhere to be found at all or she would see him at random times, like when she would go to the kitchen and find him there, sweaty from training, stuffing his face, or sometimes when she passed the living room he would be there, clad only in shorts, watching some sort of television program or idly flipping channels. In fact, the majority of the times she saw Vegeta he was with Zarbon, who she was only barely starting to trust, and that only because she had to. The tall, stately, green-haired man was too perfect for her likes, too unpredictable because he did not seem to be reactionary in the least unless it was Vegeta’s fault. She chuckled to herself as she closed the door to the gravity room behind her and set off across the lawn. Vegeta was the most frustrating person she had ever known in her entire life, with his stubborn arrogance, and so she supposed she it was only right that Zarbon totally lose it when Vegeta did something inappropriate. Her brow wrinkled suddenly as a bizarre ache began in her chest and she pushed it away as quickly as she could, remembering all of the things she hated about Vegeta. If she was going to think about murderous space aliens she should think about Radditz. He, despite his cold warrior’s facade, was sweet. And, of course, had the added attraction of actually liking her. Sighing, she put her hand on the kitchen door of the main building and pushed. None of her thoughts changed the fact that she was going to have to locate that little bastard Vegeta and tell him she was done with his damn room.
After several hours of looking night had fallen and Vegeta was nowhere to be found. Swearing silently to herself, she decided she was going to take some time just for her, and after making some snacks in the kitchen headed up to the living room to watch some of her favorite movies. She settled down on the couch with her snacks, popped in a videotape, and leaned back. At least with the prince absent she could relax. For some reason that thought was not as fulfilling as it should have been.

He had known, somehow, that the gravity room was finished just as she finished it and snuck inside as she entered the main building. His sharp dark gaze drifted around the room critically, but in the end he had to admit that it was exactly what he had required. Satisfied, he began to train in higher gravity once more, but for some reason the image of her walking across the lawn, posture wavering between straight and shoulders slumped, would not leave his head. There was, in addition, those stupid blue eyes floating around in his mind’s eye as well.

Vegeta trained for several more hours before realizing that he was not really getting anywhere and shut off the machine bitterly. He stormed out of the room and into the house, heading upstairs to his room to take a shower, when he passed the living room and realized that the television was on. Other than the flashing light from the screen the room was dark and he cautiously went inside.
He walked around to the front of the couch and realized immediately that Bulma was asleep. She was leaned back, her head wedged between the back and the armrest, and sprawled all over the place. Empty food wrappers and dishes were on the floor around her, a huge bowl of popcorn still in her lap. His stomach growled and he sat down on the couch next to her, reaching over and snatching a handful of popcorn, his eyes on her the entire time and wary of her wakefulness. As he retracted his hand from the bowl a tiny smile of amusement crossed his face. She was lying back, mouth wide open, with bits of popcorn stuck to her face. A particularly large kernel was actually adhering to the corner of her mouth, and it wiggled back and forth as her breathing disturbed it. He let a low chuckle rise from his throat and leaned forward to pick it off. Stupid woman, he found himself thinking, you’ll choke if you’re so careless. His fingertips accidentally grazed her lips as he brushed the popcorn away and he pulled his hand back slowly, blocking out just how soft and warm they had been. She smiled in her sleep and murmured something, bringing her hand up to her mouth with a happy expression. He grunted in disdain and decided that it couldn’t hurt to see just what sort of drivel she had put on the screen, so he turned his attention away from her and watched.

He came awake with a start, his body spasming and knocking his hand against her leg as he blinked at the static on the screen. He coughed and shook his head, scowling. That movie had been so boring it had put him to sleep as well. A little noise caught his attention and he turned his head towards it, his stomach sinking as he realized she had awoke. Her blue eyes blinked at him, then the lids slid down halfway. She scooted up a little and stared at him, obviously not completely awake. “The room’s done, Vegeta,” she murmured, her eyes running up and down his body. “Damn, you’re built. Too bad you never wear normal clothes. You’d be irresistible.”

“What?” he hissed, but her eyes rolled back in her head and she was asleep once again, sighing and muttering under her breath. The blood was roaring in his ears and his face was hot as he looked down at himself. He had never considered how he looked, but then he realized Radditz always did. Radditz had always gone out of his way to look nice for Bulma. Was that why the woman liked the third-class Saiyan better? A snarl worked its way over his features and he snorted, standing indignantly. How dare a lowly Earthling comment on his appearance. He began to wander out of the room when her hand reached out and grazed his thigh, sending a shock up his spine and to the base of his skull. He closed his eyes and shuddered, holding perfectly still.

She seemed to have deliberately touched his thigh. “No, Vegeta, you’re always leaving,” she said sleepily, obviously not completely conscious. “Don’t leave again.”

“I have to go get a shower,” he growled, then wondering why he was bothering explaining himself to her, wondering why all he could think about was her touching his leg like that again.

“Then take me to bed,” she murmured, making a little noise of supplication.

“Absolutely not,” he said indignantly, still staring down at her.

“Please,” she asked, reaching her arms up at him, her voice fading back into sleep. “I’m so tired, the gravity room is done,” she trailed off, her arms slowly collapsing back to their former positions. She gave a little snort and soon her chest was rising and falling in patterns of sleep once again.

He cocked his head and sighed. Well, she wasn’t really awake, and no one else was around, so what could one time hurt? He doubted she would even remember in the morning. Kneeling beside the couch, he slid one arm under her shoulders and the other behind her knees, easily hefting her and standing, wondering at how light she was. She was substantial, no doubt about it, but she weighed far less than a Saiyan. Her head lolled to the side and he pressed her against his chest, her skull coming to rest in the curve of his neck and shoulder, her skin soft and yielding in his hands and her breath stirring the flesh at the base of his throat. He felt something quiver and quail inside of him and she suddenly nuzzled against him, her mouth brushing against his neck. He shuddered involuntarily again and carried her to her room as quickly as he could.

Bulma was upset once again as she sat at the breakfast table, watching her mother put together the meal. “The weird thing,” she said, continuing an earlier train of thought, “Is that I could have sworn that I did see him last night. If it had been anyone but Vegeta I would have thought it actually happened. Anyway, it was a nice dream. He was strong and warm,” she said, trailing off.

“Well, it sounds like a nice dream, dear,” Mrs. Briefs said absently from the counter.

Bulma shook her head. “That’s the strangest thing of all, Mom. If it was a dream, how did I get into my room last night?” she asked.

Mrs. Briefs shrugged. “I don’t know, honey. You might have walked there and just don’t remember it. That sort of thing happens to people all the time.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Bulma replied, unable to keep the sound of disappointment from her voice.

Zarbon, in the meantime, happened to be wandering past the kitchen on his way to meet Vegeta when he heard the Saiyan’s name. He was about to crash into the room and involve himself in the conversation, since he was curious, but then realized he would hear more truth from Bulma if he wasn’t in the room to scare her. Leaning against the wall, he set himself to listen.

Mrs. Briefs turned around and faced her daughter. “You know you might just be having dreams because you’re lonely,” she said gently.

Bulma sighed. “I’m not lonely,” she growled. “I’m just tired. I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly content to be by myself all the time.”

“Now, darling, you can’t lie to me,” Mrs. Briefs protested. “You might not think I’m that sharp, and I’m not, not compared to you and your father, but I know people. I hired all the employees for your father’s company from when it started to just before you went off on your first dragonball hunt. I can read people and you, my dear, seem lonely. Why don’t you give Radditz a call? I know he’d be more than happy to come over. All he does is train with Goku and I’m sure he misses you.”

“If he misses me then why doesn’t he just come over?” Bulma countered testily.

Mrs. Briefs shrugged, turning back to her cooking. “I don’t know, but I think it has something to do with the Saiyan culture,” she replied.

“That’s okay, I’m used to being alone by now,” Bulma grumbled.

Her mother continued to work. “Well, you’re choosing to be alone, honey,” she said gently. “There are still a few young men around here for you to socialize with.”

“Yeah, right. Zarbon’s busy, and he doesn’t like me anyway for some reason, and then that stupid, stubborn, arrogant....gaaah!...Vegeta....” Bulma snarled.

Mrs. Briefs began to move pans to the stove, humming gently to herself. “Then what do you want in a man, honey?” she asked. “What is it that you’re looking for?”

Bulma leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms under her breasts and considering. “Well,” she began, “They have to be intelligent.”

“Radditz is intelligent,” Mrs. Briefs chimed in.

“Mother!” Bulma protested. “I’m not done!”

“Sorry,” Mrs. Briefs chirped. “Go on.”

“And he has to be strong on the inside. I want a man who knows what he wants and will do whatever it takes to get it. He has to be passionate and willful, and, of course, absolutely stunning to look at,” Bulma said thoughtfully.

“Radditz is most of those things,” Mrs. Briefs said carefully.

“Mom,” Bulma growled.

“Oops. Sorry,” her mother replied.

“And he has to not treat me like I’m made of glass like all the men I know do. He has to realize that I’m my own strong person and not get in the way of my life,” Bulma said, voice firm and bordering on anger.

“They just want to protect you, like poor Yamcha,” Mrs. Briefs reminded her.

“I know, and Radditz does the same thing!” Bulma snapped. “I hate it worse than anything! I don’t need to be protected, and they would know that if they understood me. I just want someone to understand me,” she said, more softly.

“Now you’re just being idealistic and stubborn,” Mrs. Briefs said gently. “You don’t get to mail-order your mates, darling, you have to pick from what you’ve got. Now, with all due respect to Yamcha, because I love him like a son and he’s always been good to us, I don’t think he’s what you need. But Radditz, on the other hand, is the person who matches most closely to the criteria you’ve laid out.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Bulma said with a sigh. “I guess I’m out of options.”

No, Zarbon thought from outside the door. I know of one person who matches every single little condition, but he’s not going to like it. He stood there for a few moments more, jealousy fighting with his sense of altruism. If he did what he knew was right it could cost him much. He didn’t like her, really, but he couldn’t tell if it was because he actually disliked her or because of the threat she posed, and so he took a quick peek into the kitchen. He saw Bulma, sitting there with her elbows on the table and her head cradled in her hands, the expression on her face so bitter and lonely that it nearly broke his heart. He sighed and tiptoed past the door, desperately hoping he would be back in space soon so he could focus on the joy of battle and being and not have to meddle in affairs of the heart.


It was time, he thought as he ducked through the endless maze of hallways, avoiding throngs of screaming soldiers. It had taken far longer than expected, but Freeza had pulled it off nonetheless, inciting a full-blown war against his father from the isolation of his chambers. Unfortunately the whole affair was much more disorganized than a normal battle because of the removed location of one of the leaders, and the seemingly infinite twists and turns of Cold’s fortress were not helping. Dodoria shuddered as he realized how furious Cold must be at the moment. If Freeza’s forces didn’t win every single one of them was dead. Dodoria understood, as he pressed himself against the wall of the corridor, that he had no conception of how Freeza intended to win this fight. He was seriously doubting Freeza’s sanity not only at the present, but had been ever since Freeza had slain his brother. A soldier did not arbitrarily kill kin, not even the coldest and most ruthless, and especially not over something as trivial as being ordered off one’s own bridge. Dodoria knew all this, and although cold drops of fear-sweat rolled over the folds of his pink, swollen body he found the courage to carry on. He was, of course, a well-trained, ruthless career soldier.

Another ki blast was shot down the hallway on his left and he shielded his eyes as it struck the wall with blistering force. Screams came from the hallway and he hazarded a look, blinking as he saw pieces of Cold’s army in the hallway. Some of the soldiers were still alive, squirming around on the ground like maggots, missing arms and legs. A mad cackling came from down the hall and Dodoria blinked. “Kiwi!” he hissed, waving a muscular, pink arm. The figure at the opposite end of the hall adjusted his scouter and looked at him, purple, bumpy skin stretching into a lipless smile.

“Dodoria!” Kiwi chortled. “You’re still alive, you old dodger!”

“Of course,” Dodoria hissed. “But you might not be if Freeza finds out you were disobeying his orders and not going directly to the spaceport to gather troops for takeoff.”

Kiwi laughed, putting his hands on his narrow waist and throwing back his head. Suddenly a crowd of soldiers rounded the corner, and Kiwi continued laughing as he blasted them all into oblivion. “It’s not going to matter to Lord Freeza once we win!” he replied, smoke from his blast curling around his legs and drifting down the corridor perpendicular to his.

“Only if he never finds out,” Dodoria corrected. “So how do things look?”

Kiwi tilted his head, considering as he twirled one of the catfish-like feelers growing near his mouth. “Our troops are doing very well, especially with support from the upper echelon soldiers like us. Not many of Cooler’s troops can match us, since we’ve been out amongst the planets conquering and fighting for the past few decades. I think I can safely venture to say that we’ll win,” he said more calmly.

“What about Cooler’s elite forces?” Dodoria asked, wiping his rumpled brow and nervously looking about him. He didn’t want to be stationary for too long.

“They’re not here,” Kiwi crowed triumphantly. “This will be the end for Cold!”

“Then we’ll be able to fulfill our mission,” Dodoria breathed, relieved. “We can go see if they’re still alive on Rihon 8 and then take over the rest of the universe.”

“What? Rihon 8? Whatever for?” Kiwi asked, scowling.

Dodoria looked to the sides again nervously. “To see if Zarbon and Vegeta are alive,” he said.

“WHAT?” Kiwi bellowed. “That worthless monkey Vegeta? That’s what this is all about? Dammit, I’m coming with you,” he snarled, moving down the hallway towards Dodoria.

“No, we have a better chance of not being detected if you don’t. I’m only taking a few ships and Freeza needs you here more,” Dodoria said firmly.

“Master Dodoria,” Kiwi said, pulling even with the other alien, “You know more than anyone how much I hate that little ball of filth Vegeta. I will be of more use to you than you can imagine. Let me come along.”

Dodoria scowled, his fleshy purple lips pulling into a snarl. He wished for the zillionth time that Zarbon was around; Dodoria didn’t feel he was as good at asserting his authority at times. This was one of those times, and he caved in. “Fine, Kiwi, do as you please,” he grumbled. “But we have to keep moving or else we’ll never pull it off.”

“As you wish, sir,” Kiwi said with another grin and a little salute.

“Now keep quiet and follow me,” Dodoria commanded, moving down the halls with a stealth that belied his bulk. He kept his scouter constantly feeding him readings, shuddering sometimes as he recognized the patterns of Cold’s troops being herded into narrow spaces or rooms and being slaughtered wholesale. Freeza, although most likely insane, was still a stunning tactician. If Zarbon and Vegeta were alive Dodoria knew he would have his hands full. Kiwi could probably take out Vegeta but Zarbon was stronger than all of them. Unless he got lucky and they were both dead, in which case all he had to do was destroy the planet and get out of there. If they were alive he didn’t really know how he planned on bringing them back to Freeza alive and not getting killed himself. Oh well, he had been training. He was much stronger now, and he felt he could probably give Zarbon’s most powerful form a run for his money. He stuck his head around a corner, and, upon finding it clear, motioned Kiwi ahead of him. No reason to get blasted when there was an underling around. Kiwi crept into the passage ahead, hands glowing with ki, and nodded as he found it clear. Dodoria glanced behind them and moved on as well. They turned the corner and suddenly found themselves confronted with roughly twenty of Cold’s soldiers.

“You fool!” Dodoria screamed at Kiwi. “Your ignorance is going to ruin everything!”

Kiwi swallowed, sweat appearing on his skull. “It’s not my fault!” he protested.

By this time the soldiers had turned and noticed their presence, promptly opening fire. Dodoria swore under his breath and broke through a door with his bulk, rolling into the room and narrowly avoiding a blast from a weapon. A few soldiers with weapons wouldn’t kill him, but twenty might be able to. He picked himself off the floor and looked around, finding a female and a few young gathered in the corner, sobbing. They must be the family of one of Cold’s soldiers. Sighing, he took aim. No reason leaving around family thirsting for revenge when their father would most certainly die. Freeza had ordered everyone killed, after all. He powered up his fist and blasted the family into oblivion before turning his attention to the door once more. Kiwi had seemingly followed his lead and barged into a different room, where he could hear children’s screams as Kiwi’s cackle resounded off the walls. The soldiers were running down the corridor towards them, some screaming especially angrily. That’s right, Dodoria thought to himself with a smile. Get angry, lose control. He waited until their footsteps were only a few yards away, then levitated and pressed himself to the ceiling as he moved into the hallway. He fired a few shots, killing the majority of the soldiers with a small smile. The ones that remained fired back at him, but he dodged their beams easily and terminated them one by one. The soldiers might have weapons that simulated ki, but they certainly had nothing that resembled the shields that soldiers that actually used ki could create. “Kiwi, you’re dawdling!” Dodoria bellowed, and Kiwi emerged from the room, licking his lips.

“Sorry, just having a little fun,” Kiwi said with a snort.

“Well, no more of that nonsense,” Dodoria snapped. “We’re here to fulfill a mission.”

“Very well, sir,” Kiwi said solemnly, watching as Dodoria came back to stand on the floor.

Dodoria nodded and motioned with his hand as they went down a different hallway. This one had a few soldiers as well, but they were picked off easily as the two soldiers thundered down the hallway. They were nearing another battle now, and although it was far from the main one deep inside the center of the fortress it was being fought just as energetically. Dodoria and Kiwi threw themselves against the sides of the passageway, both powering themselves with more ki as they cautiously looked into the big room. There was no need for stealth, since the thundering of battle was all around them, but the passageway Dodoria was seeking lay on the other side of the room. He gritted his teeth and surveyed the scene, wondering what to do, when he heard Kiwi gasp beside him. “What is it?” Dodoria snapped.

Kiwi’s face had gone a lighter shade of purple as he tapped at the button on his scouter nervously. “Two things,” he muttered.

“First, the Ginyu Force is here. I don’t know how he managed it, but he must have called them and they have just arrived. Secondly, Cooler’s elite team has also just arrived.”

“Dammit,” Dodoria hissed. “We don’t have time for this!”

“What shall we do?” Kiwi asked, eyes growing wider.

Dodoria narrowed his eyes in thought, never taking his gaze from the melee ahead of them. “Which group is closer?” Dodoria asked, momentarily thinking of teaming up with Ginyu and asking for an escort. That would speed things up quite a bit.

“Cooler’s crew,” Kiwi answered, craning his neck to see into the fray.

“Dammit,” Dodoria repeated, this time more viciously. He didn’t want to take the time to check his own scouter, and so he glanced at Kiwi once again. “Are they headed this way?”

“Yes, sir,” Kiwi answered stiffly.

“Then we destroy everyone in this room and get out as quickly as possible. All we can hope for is that the Ginyu Force’s scouters pick up the energy and get their asses down here immediately. Then they should be able to take out most of Cooler’s elites. Are you clear on this?” Dodoria asked.

Kiwi blinked. “You mean, kill our own troops too?”

“Yes,” Dodoria replied coldly.

“But, sir, those are our men! Won’t Freeza be furious?” Kiwi protested.

“Freeza killed his brother and is trying to kill his father. Do you honestly think he cares about some measly soldiers?” Dodoria snapped. “Besides, troops get killed in battles. It’s the natural byproduct of war. Now, are you with me?”

Kiwi nodded, swallowing. “What do we do?”

Dodoria glanced behind them to make sure they weren’t being surrounded before looking again at the battle ahead. “Well, there aren’t too many in the air, which makes sense since the ceilings aren’t that high. I say we pull the same thing as back there- take to the air and blast the hell out of everyone with your most powerful strikes. We have to do this quickly, even if it means using unnecessary energy.”

“Orders understood, sir,” Kiwi said, tensing his body for action. Dodoria nodded and they both took to the air, hugging opposite walls as they took up positions and started to fire. Soldiers of both sides looked up, confused, at the barrage of overpowering energy being sent at them. Soon screaming filled the room, most trying to escape but finding their way blocked by rapid ki blasts.

“Don’t let anyone out,” Dodoria cautioned into his scouter. “And don’t use so much power that you blow this whole room up!”

“Caution noted,” he heard Kiwi reply over his scouter, and nodded his head, sweat breaking out on him with the exertion of producing such numerous blasts of ki. It had been too long since he went on a good, old-fashioned rampage and he was out of shape for it.

Soon, however, the room was clear, smoking bodies all that remained of the once-ferocious battles. Dodoria hovered over the bodies, noting the different suits of battle and shaking his head as Kiwi floated over to him. “See? We were outnumbered. Cooler’s forces would have killed all these soldiers anyway,” he grumbled, and Kiwi nodded silently, his body also covered in sweat. Suddenly the scouter on Kiwi’s face flared to life, its beeping sounding eerie over the sizzling and popping of fried bodies. “What is it?” Dodoria demanded.

“Sir, we should move on as quickly as possible. Cooler’s elite are right behind us,” Kiwi replied.

Dodoria clicked his own scouter. “Most of the troops are already at the ships. We need to get there quickly.”

Kiwi nodded and they flew rapidly down the hallway.

Somehow they managed to make it to the hangar, blasting their way frantically through groups of soldiers clogging the corridors. They hastily piled up the bodies in their wake, hoping to slow the pursuit of Cooler’s forces. Dodoria figured he would have a pretty good chance with them, since he was nearly as strong as they, but he couldn’t battle all of them at once and have even the faintest flicker of hope of winning. He knew Kiwi wouldn’t last even a few seconds, and so they hurried.

“Kiwi! Take over command of Bann’s ship and immediately set coordinates for Rihon 8!” Dodoria shouted as soldiers began to pour into the ships. He looked around him, amazed at the sheer number of troops Freeza had ordered to go on the mission. Lord Freeza must indeed be very, very worried about Rihon 8 if he was taking such precautions. Suddenly the sound of blasts being fired echoed down the entrance hallway, and he watched in horror as Cooler’s elite forces barreled into the room.

“Oh, Dodoria, you’re heading this futile little escape?” one of the fighters said with a sneer.

“I have a mission to complete,” Dodoria shouted uncomfortably. He was doomed, that was certain, but Kiwi knew the mission objective...”Kiwi!” he screamed. “Take off immediately! Complete the mission!”

“But sir,” Kiwi protested, stopping on the ramp of one of the ships.

“Shut up and follow orders!” Dodoria bellowed, sinking into a stance and readying for battle. Perhaps using up all that excess ki back there hadn’t been such a wise decision after all. He hazarded a glance behind him, seeing the ramps retract into the ships and hearing the hatches seal with satisfaction. Engines fired and the ships began their descent into the locks, ready for launching.

“You know, running away isn’t going to do you any good. Cold is furious,” the elite said again.

Dodoria clicked his scouter, scowling as he waded through the thousands of battling kis to find the two largest. Well, then; someone had liberated Freeza, who was heading straight for his father. Hnh, the glories of patricide, Dodoria thought and hoping at the same time that the thought wouldn’t be his last. “Well, Cold won’t have much longer to live. Freeza’s heading straight for him and he has a little surprise,” Dodoria said snidely. He knew that no one outside of Freeza’s forces knew that Lord Freeza had been able to obtain a new, higher form. King Cold really was going to have to show some fighting genius to survive the battle with his son.

“Hah, lies,” the elite spat. “No use trying to make up stories to save your own worthless skin. Too bad we used to be friends, eh?”

“Well, it’s just as well I found out how far your friendship goes, eh?” Dodoria countered, growling deep in his throat.

“Good bye,” the elite snarled, and launched himself at Dodoria. Dodoria, for his part, was very tired and as such was barely able to dodge the attack. Using the spikes on his powerful forearms to his advantage he brought his arm across the back of his opponent’s neck, watching with satisfaction as the elite stumbled a few extra steps forward. Somewhere in the bowels of the ship he heard the airlocks open and realized Kiwi and the others had made it into space. His thoughts distracted him momentarily, and thus was caught with a vicious punch to the cheek, the force sending him sprawling backwards violently. He grunted with the impact and rolled to standing, grateful for the support his armor offered him. Dodoria tried a ki blast, swearing as he realized he was too drained and the elite easily sidestepped his attack. His opponent dashed up to him and easily grabbed him by the collar of his armor, hefting him into the air.

“Well, Dodoria,” the elite said softly. “Just to show you that our friendship has not been completely forgotten I’ll give you a quick end.”

“Damn you,” Dodoria hissed and braced himself for death.

The blow never came. The elite was knocked away from Dodoria and the big pink man was sent flying, landing painfully on his side. He sat up, clutching his ribs as he labored to breathe, and saw a big, blue-skinned figure standing in front of him. “You got lucky, Dodoria,” the figure said, voice edged with hisses.

Dodoria’s eyes widened. “Bata,” he breathed, standing slowly. “Thank the gods.”

“Get in a pod and catch up with the ship,” a firm, commanding voice said from behind him, and Dodoria turned to be confronted with Ginyu himself.

“Captain, I thank you,” Dodoria said.

“I understand that Freeza wants this mission completed very, very badly,” Ginyu said to him. “Do not fail.”

“I will not,” Dodoria replied with a little salute and scurried for a pod. He climbed in and set the takeoff sequence, watching through the glass as the Ginyu Force and Cooler’s elites locked in battle until he could see them no more, the ship rapidly making its way into space.

The next thing Dodoria knew the door to the pod was opening and hands were reaching in to pull him out. He batted them away angrily, still clutching his ribs, and climbed out under his own power. “Sir, you need a tank or at least some rest,” a tech said from beside him, but he merely ignored them and made his way toward the bridge.

He stormed onto the command bridge and looked out at the stars speeding past. At this rate it would take them a couple of months, maybe more, to reach their destination. Well, perhaps by then it would be too late. Then again, perhaps not. He reached down and entered the hailing code for the other two ships, a feral smile crossing his fleshy face as he saw two faces appear on the screen. “Cran, Kiwi, enter final coordinates,” he commanded, satisfied as the other two nodded. “We do not stop until we reach Rihon 8.”

41/ Bulma’s Hideout / 43