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THE SIEGE

By Ainille

Dragon Ball Z, alternate universe

The setting takes place during the Vegeta Saga.

Rating: M for violence, language and suggestive content.

Disclaimer:

The worlds, characters and settings of Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z,

Dragon Ball GT and any other subsidiary content are all owned by Akira Toriyama.

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Chapter I

Filth

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Rain.

It was always raining here. Every day. Every single, seemingly endless day on this filthy planet, it rained. It was so proper, so perfect a setting for this life, the life she had come to accept. This planet, this ragged excuse for a place to call home, was not Earth. Not her home. And the people, the wretched creatures. The only native creatures remaining of this forsaken hell weren't of the civilized sorts, though nor were the visitors to be fair. No, this hellish planet was known by some travelers as "Nin", or by the more offensive individuals as "Freiza Planet 35". A planet of few cities and plentiful in deadly marshes and unstable rivers, few could bare to survive here. The buildings, made of foreign materials, struggled to stand amid the endless downpour. In this "Shangri-la", as Chi Chi lovingly called it, were a few decrepit buildings here and there. There was a crooked inn across from her window and a pub next to that.

She placed a hand to the glass, pushing the tattered curtain away to peer through the cracks. Quite a few today, though none too troublesome thus far. More were surely to come as the rain wore on and night brought a cooler atmosphere, brought them inside to the warmth of the women. Disappointed, she sat on the mattress with bare legs drawn to her chest as she looked out and up past the clouds, past this revolting existence. Someday, she would find her way back. She reminded herself of that vow everyday before she rose and placed her feet on the frigid, stone floor. The heavier gravity of this planet was unsettling still. The weight made her own feet a burden but she was becoming accustomed to that. The acquired strength would be of use in the future, she reasoned.

Placing a hand on either side of her rib cage, she rubbed the flesh carefully. She was hungry, her evermore protruding ribs and grumbling belly insisted. She would have to shirk that need for now. Looking around the cramped room, she noted the grim cemented walls on which burgundy paint of some sort was smeared haphazardly. Though she hoped it was paint. Two battered and thinned beds were pressed against each side of the rooms, a foot or so apart. Both were barren with the exception of two tattered bed sheets. A three legged table leaned against the wall next to the decrepit door. A melted candle sat atop the damaged surface, dripping wax. With an ounce of bravery, she reached for the doorknob and ventured into the hallway. To her left she could hear some sort of horrid music, a screeching cacophony coupled with a the wails of a woman or two. To her right extended a long hallway of several more doors that lead to rooms like her own. At the end of the hall a nude woman lay on the filthy floor, her naked arms and legs sprawled as she drooled onto the cement. She could only imagine what kind of sickening occurrence this woman endured before crumbling in this hallway.

A sigh was all she could give for sympathy. The woman, like herself, was an earthing; kidnapped with many others and forced into this life when Earth fell into disarray. But she didn't want to think about that right now. Trudging down the hallway, she stepped over the poor creature, and moved through the open doorway into the dressing room. Two broken looking women, one human and the other some sort of reptilian creature dressed in torn lingerie, sat on a battered sofa that was pressed against the far wall. They said nothing to her as she passed. A row of wobbly vanity tables lined the room, all featuring broken or missing bulbs wrapped around large mirrors. A closet with missing doors to her left was filled with various pieces of risque clothing. A metal tub of grimy water sat in the middle of the room; it was slowly leaking from a hole on one side. It was humid in here.

Standing in front of the closet, she picked through the clothing and chose a white, lace brassiere that was undoubtedly too small for her. Moving towards one of the mirrors, she wrinkled her nose at the distinct smell in the room. Turning her head, she noticed the human woman lift a poorly wrapped cigarette to her mouth with a shaking hand. Surely, that must have been her payment for the day. Eyes closed, the woman took a long drag then let her head fall back onto the couch and her messy hair fell backwards, revealing a sunken face. She would have been beautiful. The reptile took the cigarette and put it to her mouth.

Turning back to the table, she noted a few tubes of lipstick and opened palettes of makeup. Placing her hands at the hem of her sullied nightgown, she pulled it up and over her head and let it fall to the floor. She faced the woman in the mirror. Every day she did so, her gaze focused on the blue that remained in the woman's eyes. Picking up a hairbrush, she combed through her azure hair for a moment then applied a few dabs of the lipstick to her dried lips. With great distaste, she pulled the brassiere over her arms and fumbled with the clasp on her back. Returning to the closet, she pulled on a pair of torn stockings and wrapped her waist in a tight garter belt. Finally, she peered into the mirror a final time and gave herself a small nod in encouragement. Turning, she slipped on a pair of white stilettos and grimaced at the pain in the arches of her feet.

As she ventured towards the door, someone blocked her path, nearly tripping over the unconscious woman on the floor. Chi Chi stood in the doorway; her ebony hair was pulled into a unmanageable braid and she was dressed in black corset and skirt. She insisted that if she was forced to dressed this way then she would wear a much of it as possible.

"Oh, Bulma," she said as she crossed her arms, "The bat is asking where you were. I would have given her a piece of my mind but I'm starting to think that doesn't work."

She could have realized that many bruises ago, but it's difficult to cage a tiger like Chi Chi.

"I know, I know," Bulma replied, brushing past her friend.

"Well, good luck," Chi Chi grumbled as she followed her down the dark hallway and stopped at their shared room. Placing a hand on the doorknob she gave a quick wave, "I'll be here if you need me."

Bulma nodded and ventured towards the curtained exit.

"Hey," a small call came from behind her. Turning, she noted Chi Chi had her head pressed against the door. A disheartened expression had formed on her delicate features. After a moment, she murmured, "When is this going to end?"

Bulma couldn't form an answer to reassure her. She wondered the same herself. Would it end with death? It seemed that would be the most plausible. For almost two years, Chi Chi and Bulma resided in this miserable place, scrounging for food and warmth. If it weren't for Chi Chi, she probably wouldn't make it through this nightmarish ordeal. Her muddled thoughts were interrupted by a small cry.

"Goku," Chi Chi barely breathed the name, "Why did you abandon me...?"

So many times Bulma watched Chi Chi slip into this accursed dogma. When the Siege of Earth came, none of them were prepared. Bulma recalled watching ships fall from the sky like shooting stars and collide into the earth with thunderous explosions. Hundreds of them. She recalled inhuman creatures flying through the skies and the screams of panicked citizens. Goku had promised he would protect the world, like he always had and always did. But this time, he fell and then without a single word, vanished. And everything crumbled from then on.

Perhaps he had been killed and though she could have offered the option of wishing Goku to return, Bulma felt it would prove no use at this point. Instead, she placed a gentle hand on each of Chi Chi's shoulders and with a weakened smile said, "We're going to make it out of here soon. I promise."

Chi Chi stared at her with knitted brows, unbelieving. Finally, she offered a feeble reply, "Okay..."

"I promise," Bulma echoed, turning to leave, "Now get some sleep."

Stepping towards the curtain, she heard the door slowly open then close behind her followed by a hushed cry. Forcing herself to shirk the aching in her chest, Bulma pulled back the velvet curtain and peered into the lounge. The room was that of a typical whorehouse; several stages lined the walls where stone-faced women, some human, preened and danced before groups of prodding men of various species, all revolting. Couches were placed anywhere space allowed around the lounge. On them sat patrons with a courtesan, maybe two, crowded around him as he reached a grubby hand towards them. The lounge filled with obscene laughter that tore through the blaring din that was the music. Corridors leading to private parlors were often left open, revealing a grungy scene of the sexual nature.

"There you are!" A voice hissed as Bulma felt a tightened grip around her arm pull her through the curtain.

A positively vile looking woman with a flattened face and crooked black eyes was shouting something in Bulma's face, though her raspy voice was diminished by the music. She had long claws at the ends of her long fingers that scraped the flesh of her arm as she was dragged through the lounge. This ghastly creature was known only as Madame by her "girls". Stopping in front of a black door, Madame held Bulma still by the arm.

"Listen to me, you little rat," The ghoulish woman snapped as she pointed at the door, "We have a few of Freiza's soldiers here tonight. One fuck up and you're history, understand me?"

The tone suggested a wrong answer warranted a nasty result. But as prideful as she was raised to be, Bulma couldn't help but retort, "No, care to inform me?"

Pressing her claws to Bulma's neck, she seethed, "You-"

The sound of an empty shot glass colliding with the door from the inside interrupted her inevitable punishment. Lowering her hand, Madame let a loud cackle escape her toothy mouth, "Looks like you'll get what's coming to you in due time!"

With that, the wretched woman disappeared into the bright glare of the tinted lights. Frowning in humiliation, Bulma faced the door and glared at the peeling black paint. She felt a pang of disgust in her empty stomach. She could look past the distasteful touch of the patrons that marred this place day in and day out. But whenever it is was Freiza's soldiers, it was an insult to the festering injury that still lingered. It was they that brought her here, they who exterminated so many on her home planet. And every time, she would have silence herself and take it.

She heard a drunken shout from inside. It couldn't be ignored for any longer. Placing a hand on the tacky gold doorknob, she entered the room and faced quite an unsightly group. There were three men, all seated in garish red couches. They were dressed in armor blanketed in scuffs from a previous altercation. Spent shot glasses littered the floor, including the one that had struck the door moments before. Two of them were positively giddy over the two women that were both perched on the wobbly table between them. Both women were human and one of them, a heavily bruised young thing, was struggling against the tears pouring down her face as she slowly gyrated in front of them.

The third man, who was considerably smaller than the two brutes, sat between them with eyes closed and a vindictive expression on his face. Evidently, he wasn't here of his own accord.

Upon seeing her come in, one of the large men heralded her appearance by shouting, "Ah, look at this one!"

Bulma advanced further into the cramped room. A bottle some sort of foul liquor still sat half-empty on the table near dancers feet. A crude painting of some sexual encounter between two buxom alien women was hung crookedly on a wall. Closing the the door, she stood with balled fists. She relaxed them upon realizing.

The other man, the largest and with a bald head and mustached grin, turned his head to give her a malicious stare. Standing, he loomed over her and Bulma felt her heart sink into her stomach. He observed her for several moments, his black eyes struggling to focus on a single part of her. He settled on her hair, "Look at this hair, how nice."

Taking a handful of it in his massive hands, he pulled her close to which she instinctively shoved herself away with a grimace. He was not pleased by this.

Grabbing her by the shoulders with an incredible vice grip, the oaf turned and shoved her into the middle of the room where she fell onto the grimy floor. Bulma felt rage fill her being, but she forced herself to remain silent. These foul men! Rattled, she couldn't shake the notion that they seemed all too familiar. Undoubtedly, they had been on Earth during the Siege.

Kneeling over her, the drunken oaf gripped her jaw and tipped her head back to stare into her face. With his other hand and a vicious laugh, he grabbed at her breast like a child would torment an insect. Gritting her teeth, she fought back a scream. This certainly hadn't been the most unusual treatment she had received from a patron but these...these villains! They had taken away all she had. It didn't seem they intended on sullying her or the other women here. Their only intention, it appeared, was to prod and humiliate them. That, somehow, seemed worse a treatment. Any of the other patrons here understood the were as lowly as any of the women. But these men, they jeered and flaunted their stature with obvious awareness.

"Hey, this bitch looks pissed!" The oaf before her shouted with a roaring cackle. Wrapping his fingers around her brassiere, he ripped it away from her body and it shredded. Bulma couldn't help but relent and she let an aggravated shriek escape her lips. With overwhelming rage, she leaned back to kick him away but he swiftly caught her ankle in his hand as if catching a fly.

"Aren't you feisty!" The oaf turned his head and addressed his comrade with long ragged black hair who had both of the other women pressed against him on either side. Despair was evident on their faces. The bald oaf went on, "I think this one is perfect for Vegeta, don't you think?"

A laughter in response suggested concurrence and with that, Bulma was yanked to her feet and shoved onto the filthy red couch. Eyes focused on the approaching oaf, she had one arm shielding her naked chest and the other propped her up. One of her shoes had been lost in the excursion.

"I have no interest in any of the filth that wallows in this foul place, Nappa," a hoarse voice declared from behind her.

"C'mon, Vegeta," the boisterous fool before her argued, his grin disappearing for only a moment, "How often do we get to party! It's back to the usual grind after this!"

"This is a complete waste of our time!" The one dubbed Vegeta, replied with apparent frustration with arguing with this drunken idiot, "We should be searching for Kakarot, not fooling around with the diseased scum of the universe!"

Kakarot. That name was very familiar to Bulma. She racked her brain as the two squabbled about necessity. She remembered that named being used for something, someone. Turning her head, she glanced at the man surrounded by the two women. He was the most familiar. But from where!

Goku. The revelation struck her harder then the wretched gravity of this planet. This is the terrible man who first attacked Earth, who had referred to Goku by such a name and was struck down by him. And he had returned with an army in tow. The wound she had for so long struggled to keep from bleeding was ripping open and the wicked truth of the past two years was bursting forth. She remembered them; they had laughed wildly at the dying men, women and children. They stole her away from her family and the life she had once known. They did all this and for what?

"You!" Bulma's voice was filled with malice as she scowled at Radditz, who returned her stare with befuddlement. She torqued her scowl towards the shorter of the three, who was glaring at her with either astonishment or wrath towards her outburst.

"You're looking for Goku?" She demanded and a short silence filled the crowded room for a few moments. The music was reduced to a dense reverberation on the peeling walls. The two women were wide-eyed as they stared at Bulma, fearing she had endangered them, though she probably had. But Bulma was unperturbed, exchanging scowls with each of the three men, awaiting an explanation as if she were lecturing three troublesome children.

"Eh, what?" The oaf, Nappa was able to stammer through his abhorrent drunkenness.

"Why are looking for Goku?" She demanded further as she turned to lean over the grimy table in between them, "Is he alive? Do you know he is alive?"

Vegeta, evidently heard enough, rose and grasped her forearm with alarming swiftness. It would take nothing at all to crush the frail bones in her arm and she could feel he was strongly challenging that possibility. He leaned into her face and demanded with seething fury, "Who is this Goku? Are you referring to Kakarot by that name?!"

Overtaken with fear, Bulma said nothing.

"Speak, damned woman!" He ordered, loudly.

Radditz, as if struck with an epiphany, shoved the sobbing woman next to him off the couch and she landed harshly on the floor. He stood and pointed at Bulma, "I thought you looked familiar," he paused to think further then added with a harsh tone, "Yeah, this bitch was Kakarot's little slut!"

He had remembered falsely, but it was enough for Vegeta who snapped in her face, "Where is Kakarot?!"

Realizing she had bitten off more than she could chew, she wrenched her arm from his grasp in great pain. She stumbled off the couch and crawled on the floor, kicking off her remaining stiletto and hearing shot glasses skid around the room. And she eluded Nappa who was too intoxicated at this point to stop her. As she flung the door open, she was greeted with blaring music and many aghast faces who must have heard the shouting somehow. Followed by the two women, Bulma ran through the crowd, hearing wrathful shouting coming from the room behind her. Madame blocked her path through the velvet curtain, her only haven.

"Little bitch," She wailed, grabbing Bulma by the arm again, "What happened?!"

"Nothing, I feel sick," She lied, poorly.

"Ah, out of my sight!" Madame shouted over the music, shoving Bulma through the curtain. Falling to the floor, she was blanketed with darkness as the curtain fell, shielding the bright lights. She lay there for a moment, feeling the cold floor against her body. The shouting had diminished under the din and no one had pursued her beyond the curtain. She was overwhelmed with a feeling she couldn't understand. She couldn't comprehend if she was hopeful that Goku was alive or terrified that these terrible men were looking for him. What did it change? If Goku was alive, why did he leave Earth. Would he be able to face these terrible men when they inevitably found.

A door opened above her.

"Bulma!" Chi Chi shrieked, already by Bulma's side. Rolling her onto her back, Chi Chi helped her into a sitting position, "What's going on?"

Standing, Bulma urged Chi Chi back into the room and promptly slammed the door behind her. Guiding her to one of the beds, Bulma wrapped Chi Chi in a tight embrace.

Bulma felt herself being overcome with emotions she had struggled to conceal for two years. The consuming desire to feel the touch of a friend, the sound of her ditzy mother and the kiss from someone who loved her. She was eased to have Chi Chi's embrace now.

"What happened, Bulma?" Chi Chi whispered, petting her hair.

Bulma struggled with the decision to tell her. Giving the woman false hope would only be cruel at this juncture. She decided against it, reluctantly.

"N-nothing," Bulma stammered, wiping away a tear, "I just feel sick, I think I need to sleep."

"Of course," Chi Chi stood and encouraged Bulma to lie back as she situated the tattered bed sheet over her, "I'll go find you something to eat. Try to sleep for now."

Moments later, she was gone and Bulma lay staring up through the darkness. She decided it would be best if she put the encounter behind her, nothing good would come from dwelling on it. If Goku was alive, he was far, far from her and Chi Chi and any hope she hope she had for Earth or her return to it was quickly waning. With a deep sigh, she let a deep slumber overtake her.

...She stood and watched the golden orb emerge through the brooding, black clouds that fled from the growing light and taking refuge behind the distant foothills. The vivid glow broke and chased away the rain and mud. Beneath her bare feet, fresh green grass burst forth from the filth and she watched as it spread over the cascading fields. Brilliant colors filled the sky over her head; an overwhelming palette of hues. It had been too long. She was home.

In the distance she could see a great metropolis. Towering white structures extended into the sky, some with bright lights fading with the growing sunlight. Her chest swelled with joy and she began to run. She felt so weightless, so light. Crossing a hill, she was stunned to find everyone standing and waiting for her; her mother, father, Yamcha, Krillin, Goku, everyone. Their faces greeted her with silent smiles.

With an extended hand, she reached for them. She paused to watched a shooting star sail through the sky over the city. Then another followed by hundreds. Then a scream.

Screams.

Bulma's eyes fluttered opened. Groggy, she sat up and rubbed at her heavily fatigued face. It was dark still but she was uncertain whether it had been moments or hours since she had fallen into her troubled slumber. She turned her body and swung her legs over the edge of the battered mattress and felt the familiar cold beneath her feet. She sighed once and hugged her arms tightly as she hung her head. Sitting in the silence, she noticed the music had stopped which was particularly rare. She felt an uneasiness in her stomach as she reached out to the mattress across from her and felt nothing.

Then a resounding scream filled the hall. Immediately, Bulma was standing and her mind was filled with fear over Chi Chi's safety. In a panicked frenzy, she fumbled with the bed sheet, tightly wrapping it around her body. She headed for the door and reluctantly placed her hand on the doorknob. Peering into the hallway, she noticed nearly all the bedroom doors were swung open and she heard distinct cries coming from the dressing room and even more from beyond the curtain.

Before she was able to step out, she heard a crashing noise from the lounge; the sound of shattering glass followed by continued screaming. It wasn't the ordinary screams normally heard in this place. They were anguished and frantic. Then she heard a shouting she did not wish to hear.

"She's probably back here!" A gruff voice called from beyond the curtain. A moment later, the velvet curtain was shredded and an incredible light flooded the hallway. The light shoved her back into the room with an incredible force and she couldn't contain a frightened yelp. She lay on the floor, blanketed with dust. The ground was shaking and a she felt crevice splitting the stone beneath her hand. The door was hanging haphazardly from one hinge.

"Nappa, you idiot," a familiar voice scolded from elsewhere in the building, "She is of no use if you kill her now!"

"Yeah, yeah," Nappa responded from somewhere too close for comfort. Frantic, Bulma rolled onto her stomach and crawled under one of the beds, cautious not to slash her skin on the hanging wires. The sound of something being smashed nearby startled her. She placed both hands over her mouth and struggled to still her hastened breath. The great light had diminished, leaving faint light from outside in its wake. Thick dust filled the air and she had to cover her nose to resist a cough.

It must have been some sort of attack like Goku's Kamehameha, though far more wicked. Suddenly, two large white boots obscured her view and before Bulma could still her excited heart the bed and its frame were slung into the air with ease. With a shriek, she watched in horror as it clashed with the window, sending glass in all directions. Rain water poured in from the newly opened orifice in the wall.

"There you are," Nappa declared with a cackling chuckle, "Must be a natural instinct. You humans were always good at hiding!"

He took a fist full of her hair and dragged her to her feet. She howled in pain, clutching the bed sheet to her being.

"True warriors never hide!" He laughed wildly again.

Bulma struggled against his grasp as he pulled her through the door and into the rubble that was the hallway. Facing away from his as he dragged her, she could see into the dressing room through the dust. Blood of many different colors stained the floor and walls. The previous cries were silent now.

All of a sudden, she was thrown into the lounge. Laying on her stomach she could smell fire and feel its intense heat on her skin. Burning flesh was nearby. She could feel Nappa standing over her and the sound of his horrid laughter made her shudder. He took a handful of her hair again and forced her into a kneeling position where she could see the catastrophe that had unfolded in full. Fire engulfed the stages where naked women wallowed in agony. Much of the entryway was absent completely and rain rushed in unimpeded. The blood of the dead was splattered on every surface. On the other side of the room stood Vegeta with his arms crossed and smirk on his face as he observed her with wicked satisfaction. Radditz was but steps behind him, bent over the mangled corpse of Madame. Propped against a wall, her head was bent unnaturally to one side and a crude blue blood dribbled onto the floor.

Lightheaded and nauseated, Bulma felt warm blood dripping from her cheek and shards of glass still stuck to her skin. Her mind raced, among the dead she couldn't see Chi Chi. How would she have survived? Her head swam in fear. What did they want...?

"Finally," Vegeta declared impatiently, "I've had enough of this putrid planet."

With a roaring laugh, Nappa attempted to force Bulma onto her feet but she crumbled. A screeching ring filled her ears and she could hear them damning her but it didn't matter. She let herself be enveloped by the white noise. Moments later, she was lost in the void of unconsciousness.

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