A/N

Updated and Beta read!

A massive thank you to the multi talented and amazing Beta reader Over8000. Thank you for taking the time out from your amazing fictions to correct and encourage mine!

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Updates every Friday.

Bulma sat in Master Roshi's living room, speechless.

Yamcha, the love of her life, was dead and her mind could not handle the grief. She gripped her knee so hard it hurt, bowed her head low and sobbed bitter tears. The old man placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and muttered some words of comfort but she was deaf to all but a sense of loss.

Yamcha was dead…

In the transport ship on the way to the battlefield, Bulma started to come back to reality. She blinked her sorrow filled eyes and looked over to Chi Chi.

The woman looked utterly lost in thought and fraught with worry. Her hands were clamped tight in her lap and she was staring straight ahead.

"I'm sure Goku and Gohan are fine, Chi Chi," she found herself saying, "we need to work out how we're going to get the others back now that we don't have Dragon balls…"

Chi Chi nodded absently and jumped a little as the ship landed. Roshi looked back at them from the front seat, a look of concern in his ancient face.

"Gohan? Goku?" Chi Chi asked quickly, "You can sense them, right? Please tell me my little boy is ok…?"

Bulma's heart skipped a beat as she watched Roshi's eyebrows knit together. He nodded.

"Their energy is faint but it is there," the old master reassured, "but the saiyan's is there too…"

Everyone one the transport jumped up and all started yelling at once. He held up his hands for calm and the ship fell silent.

"He's barely alive but perhaps Goku has shown him mercy." Roshi surmised, grimacing at the thought. He met Bulma's eyes and fixed a serious expression on his face. "You can go out there but be careful!" He warned, "We don't know what happened towards the end of the fight, stay out of sight of the enemy!"

Bulma and Chi Chi nodded and Bulma opened the hatch. The hot desert wind hit them full force as the door opened and took their breath away. Glancing at each other and nodding in joint support, both woman stepped onto the battlefield to survey the aftermath.

Bulma watched as the others moved Goku and Gohan onto stretchers to be taken away, amazed by how much damage their bodies seem to have taken. She found herself-not for the first time-astounded by the power and tenacity of her childhood friend. Her musings came to a halt as she came across a crater in the ground.

Yamcha…

Tears dropped down both her cheeks as she stared out at the holes in the terrain which had become her friend's and former lover's graves.

"Bulma..?"

She wiped her eyes quickly and looked behind at an exhausted looking Krillin.

He nodded to her and joined her on the edge of the crater.

"You should be proud of him," he stated, his words laced with the bitterness of loss, "he fought bravely against a brutal enemy."

She nodded, grateful, and continued to stare off at the pock-marked landscape.

"Oh, Yamcha…" she said to herself, feeling her eyes filling with liquid again.

Krillin reached over and placed his hand on the small of her back as a gesture of comfort.

"Hey, cheer up, Bulma! I have some good news if you're ready to hear it?"

Bulma spun round to look at him.

"Good news?" She asked, "I think we could all use some of that!"

Krillin smiled and adjusted his weight to look more triumphant.

"The Saiyans said Piccolo was from a planet called Namek. They said there are more of them!"

"But that means...we can get more Dragon Balls!" Bulma realised. She grabbed Krillin and spun him round in a happy dance.

As the two came to a stop again, the young woman grinned.

"So, where is Namek?" She asked, "And how many of them are there?"

Krillin's face fell and became more serious. He looked over his shoulder pointedly.

"You'd have to ask him…" he replied.

Bulma followed his gaze and was momentarily shocked into silence.

Lying on the ground a few feet away was the Saiyan. He was crumpled into a bloody heap, unmoving, having clearly attempted to crawl to his ship which was open a couple of feet from him.

Bulma's heart raced until she thought of the damage this creature had done-then her blood started to boil.

She marched past Krillin and straight towards the Saiyan male, utterly furious.

When she reached him she put all of her strength into a well placed groin kick and enjoyed the grunt of pain which he issued in response. His black eyes cracked open and Bulma stared back with equal hatred.

"Where's Namek?" She demanded, crouching closer, "How do we get there?"

The Saiyan made an odd gurgling sound in the back of his throat. It took a moment, but soon Bulma realised it was laughter.

She kicked him again, this time in his shin and saw the gleeful look vanish in an instant, replaced by a wince.

"You fucking animal" she yelled, "You think this is funny? You slaughtered our friends!"

"You friends were pathetic and they died like dogs!" The man spat back.

Bulma howled with rage and spotted Yajirobe's sword on the ground. Snarling, she picked it up and pointed the sharp blade at his face.

"One of the men you killed was my boyfriend, asshole!" She snapped, "You'd better start talking or you're a deadman!"

Krillin stepped forward and raised his hands in a calming gesture.

"Bulma," he implored, "Goku said not to kill him...besides, we need information if we're going to get our friends back!"

"I'm not saying a damn thing to any of you weaklings," the Saiyan announced, rolling the rest of the way onto his back.

"Then you're dead!" Bulma cried.

She jumped onto his torso and straddled him. She pressed the sharp edge of the sword into his neck until it bit his flesh and made him bleed thick droplets of crimson.

Unexpectedly, he smiled wickedly.

"If I weren't in such a sorry state, I'd have a really good time with you!" He threatened with venom. He thrust his hips up into her groin for effect and bared his teeth as she yelped.

Krillin grabbed the blade from her as the woman was about to open his throat with it and tugged her to a short distance away.

Her breath started coming in pants as pure adrenaline hit her. She bent over and resisted the urge to vomit.

"Bulma, we need him," the monk reminded her, his voice gentle, "if we stand a chance of getting our friends back and using his technology, we need him alive!"

Bulma crossed her legs at the thought of what he had threatened her with and bit her lip angrily.

"Fine," she spat, "but that thing is coming to Capsule Corp to be properly restrained!"

"I'm not so sure that's safe, Bulma!" Krillin objected.

"Oh per-leeze!" The engineer dismissed, turning towards the Saiyan again, "We have the strongest alloys known to man and enough drugs to keep any being still for centuries. I'll radio my dad and get a transport which can handle him."

The heiress looked carefully at the plans for the tank a few hours later back at the corporation headquarters.

Their captive was lying on a cot in the far end of the room, heavy set restraints around his wrists and ankles as well as a drip containing sedition sticking into his arm.

The blueprints showed the inner workings of the cylindrical holding cell in front of her: a complex system of ventilation capable of pumping aerosolized drugs into the chamber; a web of lasers and electronic prods if physical discomfort needed to be inflicted; scanning equipment and sensors covering every angle and finally tubing and restraints in case the chamber needed to be filled with liquid for stasis.

Bulma smiled at the work and placed the blueprints on her desk.

She resisted rubbing her hands together, this was science after all.

"Load the test subject into the holding cell." She ordered.

There was a flurry of activity as scientist fellows activated various screens and started positioning the cot, plus its occupant, into the chamber. The door shut with a hiss and sealed itself.

The large tube was transparent so the Saiyan was visible from every part of the lab. A small team of four stood with clip boards taking down initial scan figures.

A senior member of her team strode over, an uncomfortable look on his face.

"I don't want to hear it, Doctor Una," Bulma stated with annoyance.

Doctor Una adjusted his glasses on his nose and stared at her defiantly.

"Even so, Doctor Brief, I must raise an ethical objection. Who is this young man and since when have we been in the business of kidnapping people off the street?"

"You're out of line, Doctor!" Bulma countered.

She marched towards him with an odd look on her face. He leaned back as she stopped mere inches away and smiled.

"If you object, Doctor Una, I have many other projects which could use your attention. I thought though, as an evolutionary biologist, you may be interested in studying an alien…"

She let the last word hang in the air as the meaning sank in. Doctor Una went ashen white and turned his head towards the unconscious test subject in the holding cell.

"You mean...he's…?"

Bulma nodded and fixed a sly look on her face.

"Still want to object?" She asked.

The Doctor coughed and seemed to be struggling with it in his mind. He ran his fingers through his silver hair before shaking his head.

"I would like to see board approval for this, Doctor Brief," he replied after a while.

Bulma nodded and walked up to the glass, peering in as the Saiyan started to stir.

"I'll get it, don't you worry." She assured, "For now I want a full body scan done on this creature, let's see what we're dealing with."

She saw Una nod to his sub team and he followed them down a ramp out of sight.

The Saiyan tried to sit up but was prevented by the restraints. Bulma enjoyed seeing him struggling in vain before giving the signal to release them.

The man sat up slowly and looked around himself, taking note of his surroundings.

He spotted her and stood before walking very slowly towards the glass. He stopped a few inches away and looked at her with a blank expression.

Bulma smirked.

"What, no witty retort?" She goaded, "I guess this isn't the 'good time' with me you were hoping for, huh?"

Her grin became wider as she watched him flick his eyes around the cell.

Her glee faded, however, when his face started to look a little frightened. His brow softened and his dark eyes seemed lost. Her hands dropped to her sides and she eyed him carefully.

He raised his hand and placed it on the glass. His expression looked pleading now, a world away from the nasty sneer of the battlefield.

Lost in the moment, Bulma placed her hand over his, their palms separated only by the thick glass between them.

"I just want to know how to save my friends. We don't want to hurt you…" she told him, her resolve fading.

Suddenly, her hand started burning badly against the material. She screamed in agony and nursed it while he laughed at her from the other side of the glass.

"You mother fucking bastard!" Bulma shrieked. She spun on her heel and walked towards the medical station, his laughter echoing behind her.

"You pathetic bitch!" He yelled back, "You think this cage can hold me forever? It won't. It won't and then I will come for you! Mark my words!"

"Put him back to sleep!" Bulma ordered as she made her way out, "And get better heat proofing on that fucking glass!"