Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so these characters are not mine. Also, this story is loosely based on the Polynesian myth "Ina the Fairy Voyager."


Voyage Through The Stars
By: Lehua


Chapter 1


Bulma kept her head down and her limbs close together, taking the beating as well as she could. She was use to it already. Everyday she was beaten to, what seemed to her, an inch of her life. And she never cried out; no, not once. She wasn't about to give them the pleasure of hearing her scream. She wasn't about to give them the pleasure of anything; she still had her pride. She just wanted it to be over with already. She would be put in a regen-tank to recuperate from this beating until tomorrow where she'd probably get her butt beat again.

But it was the moments between the beatings that were the most precious to her. She would be placed in the fluids with long hoses attached to her. The gas would lull her to sleep where she could dream of her loved ones, her lost family . . . better times. Only when she was in the regen-tank could she really think and dream of such things. The outside was a cruel place to live now that the Saiyans had taken over. It took every effort just to survive. She could still remember the day they came.


"Yamcha, you baka, what the hell are you doing?" Bulma yelled at her one and only boyfriend. She'd been dating Yamcha now for two years, and she was beginning to think two years was too long already. He was sweet and he meant well, but he was such a damned klutz, and by Kami, if she had to live with him for the rest of her life all her projects would go crashing to the floor, just like the one he just dropped.

"I was just trying to help." he said defensively, his brown eyes falling.

"Kami, he can be such a baby," Bulma thought to herself. She sighed and began to pick up the pieces of her fallen project. "Yamcha, why don't you go help Mom in the kitchen?" she said, her voice tired.

"You know your mother: she hates it when I'm in the kitchen with her. She says I can't get anything right." he whined.

"You got that right." she mumbled under her breath. She stood up, cradling the pieces in her arms. "Then why don't you go out and play baseball with the boys or something?" She placed her beloved-- broken-- project her lab table.

"You don't want me around?" he asked hurt.

"Yamcha, I need to get my work done." she said, placing a weary hand on her head.

"I can help." he said, hopefully.

"No, Yamcha, you can't." she said, gently pushing him to the door. She opened the door and pushed him out in the bright sunlight, shielding her eyes from the glare. She closed the door on him and locked it, leaving him standing stunned and dejected, looking at the steel door in front of him.

She sighed and walked back over the table and looked down at her project. She sat down on her chair and twirled herself around, depressed. All that work for nothing. She ran a trembling, long-fingered hand through her aqua hair. She grabbed her desk mirror and stared at her tired reflection. Twenty-five and she looked forty already. Circles were beginning to appear under her eyes, and her face didn't have the young energetic look anymore. Where did her youth go? It seemed to have flown away from her. She wanted to settled down now and start a family, but the right guy hadn't come along yet. Oh, yeah, she had Yamcha, but she couldn't even think of spending the rest of her life with him. He was too much of a rug.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when the floor suddenly shook beneath her. Dust fell from the ceiling and her project fell to the floor once more. "What the hell?" she cursed under her breath. She ran out of the room to see what had happened now.

There was a huge crater in the middle of her front yard. She ran to the edge and saw a pod right in the middle of it, still sizzling from the impact. Yamcha ran out of the house and stood next to her, his eyes wide. "W-wh-what the-" he stammered.

The pods door opened and she watched a huge man step out. He was bald and he wore a tight-fitting armor. He looked up at the sky for a moment, seemingly drinking in the suns rays, before he turned to look at them. His black eyes bore into them, the power almost driving Bulma back a step. Yamcha gaped next to her. She saw the man lift one hand and a ki ball formed and shot toward them. Yamcha moved fast enough to push her out of the way, but he was hit square in the chest, leaving a big hole in the middle of his chest. He stood for a moment on unsteady feet and then fell before Bulma. Bulma cried out and shot out her arms, catching the fallen warrior. His eyes were already blank with death. She was too numb to do anything but stare.

A large shadowed suddenly covered her. She looked up and saw the man towering over her. "You bastard." she spat at him, her voice low with hatred.

His eyes narrowed and he hit her on the head, sending her into total darkness.


Bulma opened her eyes, the hands and feet stilling raining blows on her body. She now lay on her side, the blood running from her many open wounds. Her family was dead, killed almost from the beginning. Her friends were killed too, and Goku was taken away to be re-educated, along with Gohan since he was half-Saiyan. She hadn't seen them since that day. She didn't know if they were dead or alive, but if she knew them well at all then they were alive most definitely, though possibly barely hanging on.

Bulma attention was drawn back to her attackers when she heard and felt her arm crack from a blow. She gritted her teeth, but kept her mouth shut, tears almost streaming down her face from the pain. "Cry!" she heard one of them scream. "Cry and it will all be over . . . for today." she heard another laugh.

She closed her eyes tightly again, waiting for unconsciousness to take over. The pain was beginning to become unbearable, but she would bear with it. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

"Stop!" she heard a voice command, a woman's voice. She was presently surprised when the blows immediately stopped, especially since it was a woman's command.

She opened her eyes and saw a Saiyan oracle towering over her. Her coal black eyes seemed to bore into Bulma's soul. Bulma suddenly felt like she should stand before this woman, and she made an effort to but hadn't the strength. She was able to force herself to her knees, but that was as far as she could get. She looked up at the woman and saw that her expression had changed a bit, softened to an almost compassionate look.

The oracle's gaze swiftly turned to the men who were beating her. "You will never touch this woman again." she said, her voice cold and commanding. "You will take her to the regen-tank, and you will let her recuperate fully from her wounds. And then you will give her a pod, teach her how to use it, and let her go. She has a mission to accomplish. You are not to question her about it, and you will certainly not question me either. You will say nothing about this to anyone. If any of you disobey one thing I have said, then Vegetasei will destroy you. If you don't believe me, then test it out yourself." the oracle said with finality.

One Saiyan had enough guts to test her. "Why should we believe you?" he sneered.

Immediately fire seemed to fall from the sky, consuming him totally. The smell of charred flesh and burned hair filled the air in a sick perfume. Bulma glanced at the other Saiyans and saw them gaping but kneeling before the oracle, their hands held on their chest where their heart was beating.

The oracle looked hard at the men, and then gave Bulma a softened glance. "I will be back," Bulma heard the oracle's voice murmur in her mind.

With that said, the oracle turned on her heel and walked away, leaving a very grateful Bulma staring after her.


So . . . how was that? I know it kinda sucked, but I haven't written really in a few weeks. I'm getting back into my grove though. Questions? You can reach me at LehuaProductions@cs.com.

More to come . . . .

Chapter 2
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