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THE SIEGE

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Chapter XXI

Progress

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"Unbelievable!"

Descending the cascading hills through the overgrown forest, Vegeta searched the veiled undergrowth for the thief; the ragged human who stole the Dragon Ball. Above, the trees rose over the earth before bursting with shades of green that shivered in a noisy breeze. Leaves drifted aimlessly to the dirt at his feet as he gazed through the winding gaps between each trunk. He stalled for some time, in silence, hoping to catch a glimpse of the human's feeble energy—nothing. With fists clenched at his sides, he eventually surrendered a groan of frustration through gritted teeth. He could easily demolish the forest in a single motion, but the risk of destroying that precious item as well was too great.

"This is my reward for relying on that useless woman," Vegeta spat, and continued to rebuke her, loudly, for only the forest to hear, "I should have taken that radar when I had the chance."

His reproachful remarks were curtailed by the reminder of the device in that woman's possession. Yes, it appeared to function just as she said it would. He simply needed to go and get it from her, then finding that filthy thief would be an easy task. With restored determination, the prince turned for a swift exit. Then, the unusual sound of crumpling brush caught his attention.

"Hah, gotcha!" Vegeta paused to look back, narrowly avoiding a bullet that whisked by his shoulder. The human, dressed in those threadbare, orange garments, was partly shielded by a tree some feet away with a rifle in his hands. Despite the missed shot, he bore an arrogant, toothy grin as he positioned the muzzle on the Saiyan. His coarse cackling could be heard on the breeze. Naturally, Vegeta returned the arrogance with a smirk.

"Thank you for making my task of catching you so easy," the prince blatantly mocked as he extended a hand towards the human, "Now, if you don't mind, I'll be taking that item back from you."

Even if the brazen fool surrendered the Dragon Ball and begged for his mercy at that moment, it would not have mattered. Vegeta would enjoy dispatching him, all the same. After all, the human had already been given the opportunity to withdraw without a conflict. That alone was an unusual compromise for Vegeta.

"Sorry, pal," The human replied with gruff voice, proclaiming his willingness to fight as he gripped the butt of the rifle closer to his chest, "Whatever this thing is, it must be pretty valuable for you to come all the way out here for it. Besides, it looks like it'll fetch a nice price in Bridgetown. So, if you want it, you'll have to take it."

Before Vegeta could issue a promise to do just that, bullets cascaded through the trees. The earsplitting cry of the rifle erupted through the forest as the human blindly chased Vegeta to and fro with the gun's muzzle. The Saiyan easily evaded the attack, taking refuge in the protection of the dense foliage, thinning the distance between them with each volley. The planted bullets that blemished the trunks of the trees scattered wood fragments into the air. After only a few short minutes, it soon became apparent, with the audible click of the gun, that the human had exhausted his only valid method of attack.

Through the obscurity of his leafy overlook nearby, Vegeta could see the human's eyes search the forest for him. Beads of sweat were visible on his grimy face and what little confidence he beheld with that pathetic weapon was now gone. Finally, panicked by the looming danger, the human spun to retreat through the forest, only to be intercepted. He recoiled several clumsy steps as he gazed in terror at Saiyan who blocked his escape with arms crossed. Just as he had done outside of the house, the pitiful man visibly trembled at Vegeta's imminent wrath. The proud prince smiled, ever so pleased. Looking upon the human's filthy face riddled with fear, he knew this was a human's true character in the presence of Freiza's soldiers. No earthly weapon would be enough to save them.

The useless rifle fell from the man's grasp and onto the leaf-covered earth. Once again, Vegeta extended a hand in demand of the stolen Dragon Ball.

"This is your last chance," Vegeta stated with cruel sarcasm, "Hand it over and maybe I'll let you live."

"OK, OK," the human blathered as he searched his tattered pockets and presented the brilliant orb in his trembling, calloused hands. He continued to profess in his defeat, "Here, just take it!"

"Very good," The Saiyan retorted, accepting the return of the Dragon Ball in his hand. For a moment, he gazed at the entrancing, red star at the center of an ethereal field. Fortunately, it suffered no damage in the filthy creature's custody. Beyond his gaze, the human seemed to grow impatient under the duress and he withdrew several cautious steps. Having returned the precious item, he seemed dependent upon the promise of clemency. His gnarled hands were raised in defeat.

"There, you got your damned ball back," the human said, his brow furrowed. He backed away further, still offering his raised hands in surrender. He continued to cautiously speak, "I just don't want any more trouble."

Vegeta glanced once more down at the Dragon Ball, now safely in his possession, and then back at the slowly retreating human. Smiling still, he was amused by the quick change of character. Then, with averting his gaze from the pathetic creature, the Saiyan relented the coward his freedom with a dismissive wave. Visibly relieved, the man spun on his booted heels and vanished through the trees. For a moment, Vegeta remained, listening to the waning sound of the footfalls through the undergrowth.

Finally, the Saiyan extended his open palm towards the forest. Oh, how naïve these humans could be.

Brilliant light poured through his fingertips, bathing the wilderness in a blue aura. Then, in a single, quaking moment, it was all gone. In the wake of rising smoke, nothing of the once lush forest and the life within it remained, but scorched earth. Relishing in the sound of smoldering ashes, Vegeta stood and considered the prized item in his hand. Reflecting the light of the afternoon sun, he could sense the power the single Dragon Ball possessed. More and more, he was convinced of the possibilities they would offer when together at last. From the singed earth at his feet, he rose to the sky. In the distance, the blustery wind that once stirred the trees, stole away the plume of smoke from the crater he had left.

Satisfied by the destruction he had imposed upon the earth, Vegeta returned to the wrecked house where the woman stood, anxiously, in the doorway. When he descended and landed upon the field overrun with debris, she wasted no time in running towards him. Her soft features were marred with both concern and frustration. However, her anxiety seemed only somewhat extinguished by the return of the Dragon Ball, which she swiftly seized from his hand.

"Thank goodness, you found it," She exclaimed as she held the cherished sphere in both hands close to her face. But, she seemed aware that "found" was not the appropriate term for his success as she lowered the ball to her side and glowered at Vegeta, stating, "I heard all of that, by the way. It's going to be pretty difficult to fly under the radar with all of the noise you're making!"

Vegeta, astounded by the irony midst all of her ceaseless shouting, had brushed passed her midway through her statement. Yet, she was undeterred and followed closely behind as he approached the dilapidated house.

"You could have just taken the Dragon Ball without making a scene," the woman grumbled, pursuing him through the open doorway and into a trashed living area. She then swept by him and moved towards the unzipped bag that still rested on the table afar. She stirred the dust that had gathered upon the aged wood as she rummaged through the contents of the bag, returning the stolen Dragon Ball and retrieving the radar from the insides.

With a subdued cackle, Vegeta studied framed photographs hanging crookedly on the wall as he murmured, cruelly, "Even after all the inappropriate things he had said to you, I would have thought you'd be more grateful of me killing that fool."

Finally, he rested his back against the wall nearest her and studied her face as she wrinkled her nose at his comment. She shook her head and focused her gaze upon the device in her hands.

"Ugh, whatever," was her only disgusted remark on the matter. Instead, she changed the subject as she clicked the dial on the radar, beckoning it to life in the form of low, melancholy chirps. The woman said, "At least we found the Four-Star Dragon Ball and it wasn't too much of a pain."

The Saiyan observed her closely as she struggled to decipher the flashing blips on the face of the radar. Her blue orbs were brimming with unspoken determination and she seemed driven by a greater purpose now. His silent consideration was curtailed by her audible exasperations, "Who knows where these other Dragon Balls are. This thing doesn't give me elevation or terrain or anything like that, they could be at the bottom of the sea for all we know!"

She then indicated to a single blinking blip on the radar with her finger and confessed, "Well, this one is closest, so I guess this is where we should go next…"

She seemed uncertain and Vegeta grimaced at the useless woman, appalled. He groaned, "That's the best you've got? You don't even know enough about your own planet to even have the vaguest idea where these precious Dragon Balls are? Besides, you made the stupid thing, why didn't you program it to show more than a bunch of flashing lights?"

She turned her face to glare at him as she exclaimed in return, "Hey, simmer down, you big baby! I know exactly what I'm doing, thank you very much."

Disregarding his visibly brooding, she returned her gaze to the radar and pointed at the flashing blip once more, "Like I was saying, this one looks pretty close by. It's to the southwest, maybe a couple days or so on foot. I can't tell exactly, but it looks like it could be in the canyons, Bridgetown, maybe."

The Saiyan was fully prepared to impress upon her how little he cared for details and that he could have completed this drawn-out task long ago. However, something in her endless droning struck him as familiar. That name; he had heard it before.

"If we could get ahold of a map, that would be really helpful," The woman was saying, seemingly to herself, when he interrupted her.

"Bridgetown."

"What?" She paused in her babbling to turn her head and stare at him, this time with one brow raised. She then laughed, lightly, "Yeah, that's what I said. Why, vacation there recently or something?"

Vegeta frowned at her poor jest, promptly silencing her laughter. Flatly, he explained, "Before his demise, your would-be suitor mentioned the Dragon Ball might be worth something in some place called Bridgetown."

She stared at him for some time, seeming to fully absorb his words. Then, she tapped at her chin, in thought. Her eyes slowly drifted back to the radar in her hands, "It is a pretty secluded area, down in those canyons. I wonder if there might be people still there. I guess I didn't consider that anyone could be living like normal after the Siege, but I suppose it's possible outside of large cities."

Suddenly, to Vegeta's dismay, that inane woman turned, and with her hands on her hips, offered a bright smile to him. Gleefully, she praised him, "I've got to say, I'm surprised. I didn't expect you to be this helpful, Vegeta. Knowing that, I bet that's exactly where the next Dragon Ball is! Hey, we make a pretty good team!"

The prince said nothing; her indomitable optimism was unnerving. How could she be this positive after all that has transpired? Finally, he averted his blatant gaze upon her beaming face and turned towards the exit.

"I don't need your praise, woman," He replied, curtly, as he made promptly for the door, "Now, hurry up, so we can leave."

Even with his back to her, Vegeta could sense all of that excitement drain from her face in exchange for utter disbelief. Her adamant refusal made that clear, "Now? Ahem, there is no way I am going anywhere else today! I walked for almost two days and got attacked by a bear to get here. I'm taking a break."

Vegeta paused at the doorway to reprimand her fierce lack of awareness, "Do you really think Freiza cares how long you've been walking, woman? You are wasting time!"

In a deliberate display of her stubbornness, the woman retrieved a chair with worn polish from the table and rested herself on it. With a scowl, she began to loosen the ties on her boots. She countered, "Maybe you should have thought of that before you took off and left me yesterday! We could have been here a lot sooner. Besides, we made quite a bit of progress already, so I think some well-deserved rest is in order."

Infuriated by her audacity, the flustered Saiyan exited the wrecked house. Standing in the open yard littered with burned furniture and other refuse, he gazed out towards the looming mountain. To the west, the sun was creeping towards the horizon, casting a gamut of colors across the atmosphere. Despite the calm afternoon, it did little to soothe his nerves. Vegeta relented an exasperated sigh. Never had he dealt with such insolence before, even from his own subordinates. Though, with her, it was different, and it made his skin crawl with discomfort. Shirking the wasted time with a groan, the prince retreated to the sky, relieved to be without her company for the time being.

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Lingering near a window and peering through the broken glass, Bulma considering the distant horizon where the sun was vanishing. The sky above was painted in deep shades of blue and violet. There, the faintest glimpse of a star was beginning to appear. Beyond the ridge where the house stood, thick forests shuddered in the chilly evening breeze. Aside from the occasional rustling of the trees, it was silent in the abandoned house. Still yet, it would be a comforting haven for the night. In spite of her sore limbs after the long journey, Bulma was unable to fully relax and instead spent most of the afternoon tidying up the house as best as she could. She entertained the thought that when Chi Chi finally returned, she would hate to come home to such a disheveled mess. So, Bulma gathered up the scattered debris on the floor, disposed of the countless sums of beer bottles, and did what she was able in repairing the toppled furniture. It wasn't much, but it comforted her to do that at least.

Withdrawing from the waning light at the window, she returned to the dining table where items were strewn about on the newly cleaned surface. Beneath the amber light of the flashlight, the two Dragon Balls silently waited for their comrades. As she considered them, anxiety and excitement waged war in her chest. In truth, she hadn't known what to expect when she finally got there, but what she had found was a greater reason to be strong. Somewhere, Gohan was still alive. In their search for the Dragon Balls, she could only hope to come across him as well. Perhaps, if the last words of that dirty man were to be believed, there would be something waiting for them in Bridgetown. A Dragon Ball or even Gohan, himself.

With a heavy sigh, Bulma placed both Dragon Balls in the backpack. The not knowing of what waited ahead made her restless. With the flashlight in hand, she went to the kitchen and searched the cabinets for any sort of food. In one, she discovered canned fruit, which she happily retrieved from the shadows. It was a small treat, but she would enjoy it as she fantasized of her next full meal. Stepping outside, she attempted to offer some of her foraged goods to her sullen companion, who had taken refuge on the roof of the house. However, he refused and no amount of pressing persuaded him to accept her offerings.

Conceding to his stubbornness, Bulma returned to the dining room and finished the meager meal herself. With a groan, she inwardly chastised the thankless Saiyan. Why did he have to be so difficult? It seemed nothing fazed his rough, unfriendly exterior. Being a Saiyan, Vegeta was nothing like Goku. Yet, he did gather some useful information from that vile man before, admittedly, killing him. Bulma cringed at the thought. As cruel and unpredictable as he was, Vegeta seemed to be at least somewhat invested in their mission together. Perhaps, even more than he let on.

Bulma studied the journal on the table, opened to a blank page. Taking the ink pen, she made a crude doodle of the targeted coordinates on the radar. In large, black blotches of ink, she noted the location of the Dragon Balls and the names of locations they had already discovered. First, the compound in West City and, second, Goku's house at Mount Paozu. Finally, next the third prospective circle, she wrote "Bridgetown?". There—if something were to unexpectedly happen to the radar, at least she would have a vague idea of where to go next. She bookmarked the page with the cherished photo of her parents and closed the journal.

Yawning, Bulma decided to save the remaining battery in the flashlight by tying to get some rest for the night. Venturing down the hall, she returned once more to Gohan's room, now partly cleaned of the debris left by those thugs. Resting on the bed, she was thankful for its soft embrace. As strange and empty as that house seemed in the Goku's absence, Bulma relished in silent familiarity and drifted to sleep.

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