On Earth...

Vegeta was busily doing what Vegeta always did...training, eating, or griping. Since Trunks' departure, he had yelled at his empty son's room twice, thinking he was sleeping in rather than going to work. He even once yelled at the sofa for his son to get his lazy ass up to train. While he rarely showed emotion, Vegeta was feeling the effects of the loss of his son. And although he'd never reveal it straight to Trunks' face, he was always proud of his son and the strides he had made in effort to please his parents. He walked a tightrope similar to Kakarrot's eldest son, Gohan, but never fell prey to either parent's wishes. Trunks was his own person, complete with his own pride. Vegeta longed for his son's return, but at the same time, was proud that the boy was finally attempting to sort out whatever it was his heart and soul were arguing about. Perhaps, if he returned alive, he would be a different person. One, Vegeta hoped, would use his saiyan pride and his genius brain in ways more constructive than before he departed. So now, all Vegeta could do is do what he always did, namely train, eat, or bitch at his mate. Or...he could make the woman, his mate, create another spaceship and he himself could go wander the depths of space once again with the excuse, err, reasoning that he was searching for his son? With a shrug of indifference, Vegeta sought out his mate to run the idea by her.

Back on a planet somewhere in space...

Though fully healed, Trunks' mind wavered and faltered. His body didn't want to escape its confines. He tried to think rationally and failed miserably. Was he actually enjoying watching these saiyan females mill about and tend to him? Was he licking his chops in far-fetched anticipation of one of them ravaging him? His primal urge to mate was consuming all senses of logic and intelligence. Everytime his brain tried to regain control, his body slapped it with a strange, contorted fantasy. Mentally he'd envision thoughts of the most unlikely of enticements-- from Master Roshi or Oolong to rotten fish and putrid garbage cans. Yes, his mind was indeed losing. To think his body could make smelly garbage arousing, frightened Trunks enough to prevent him from trying the tactic ever again.

Suddenly, the familiar aroma of a fresh, warm meal awakened his nostrils. He was learning that if he cooperated with his captives, that he was rewarded with decent meals, blankets, and other luxuries most prisoners could only dream of. Though still in binds, he was moved to a quarters which looked somewhat like a hospital room. At least it wasn't the dirty, dank hole he was previously in. In fact, his blankets and bedding were of a satiny feel and his meals were now saiyan-sized though nowhere as close to the portions Goku used to chow down on. The son of Vegeta never even bothered to see what kind of security was holding him in that room. To him, it was becoming a vacation and fulfillment of a primal desire he'd had since puberty latched a hold upon his body. He was completely unaware that it was a chemical sabotage of his body.

Trunks watched the guard bring the meal plate closer to his "room." His blue eyes deepend to nearly sapphire as his body reacted to the vision before him. For some reason, these saiyan females were no longer wearing clothing when around him. Trunks never questioned why. He liked what he saw.

"Here is your meal. After,you will have a special visitor. The commander wishes to speak with you after you've finished eating." Midori said as she slid the tray through a special slot in the transparent door. Since Trunks was fully healed and had yet to reveal any sort of strength, the saiyans were wise warriors and opted not to take any chances by unnecessarily opening the barrier door.

Trunks said nothing, but smiled handsomely as if to compliment Midori on her naked beauty. While they couldn't understand each other verbally, they still shared universal body language. She blushed and hurried away. Her commander had first dibs on this enticing male and that was that. End of discussion no matter how hot he himself looked. She could seduce him visually, but that's it. Just eyes.

After placing her armor back on, Midori reported to her commander.

"So he is responding?"

"To something, but he's still an enigma. I can't read his reactions. He could've been grateful for the food or better housing facilities or it could've indeed been a sexual response to my nudity. I couldn't tell."

"An exotic enigma. And yet, he's still saiyan. What kind of freak is he!?" Taree said as her frustration once again resurfaced.

"Perhaps if I could go insi--"

"No. No more games. I will personally tend to every aspect of this captive from this point on."

"Yes commander."

"I want you and Sai to on alert however. I'm going to push some of this male's buttons and see where they take me. Since I have no idea on how he will react, it's best I have back-up. If I succeed in breaking him, perhaps after, I'll let you two have your way with him."

"Yes commander!" Midori responded with a hint of cheer in her voice as she saluted and departed.

The next day, Trunks awoke to the sound of soft yet solid footsteps making their way towards him. It was becoming rather routine. He could gauge a day based upon the consistent events which occurred. For instance, it had just turned afternoon and he was about to receive one of his two daily meals. He was shocked and slightly amused by the appearance of a saiyan female other than the usual. This one was scantily clad in draping red and black that sometimes covered her feminine attributes and sometimes didn't. What a tauntingly erotic game! But, his warrior senses also kicked into full gear. This was that saiyan commander that had slapped him to the floor that time ago.

Taree used the communicator so that her captive could understand her.

"So I see you're making progress. It is most wise...on your part."

Trunks looked her over and remained silent. His eyes more icy blue now, bore into her and she felt as though they were getting under her skin.

"Which do you want more half-breed? The food or the body before you?" Taree taunted seductively, playing on the increased dosage of drugs in his system.

Trunks thought about that. With his brain out of the game early by default, it was stomach verses penis. Which would win?

Taree purred deeply and ran a finger down the transparent door, following the contours of her captive's body as he stood there in a frozen state of puzzlement. Her captive male was showing what he wanted most. He wanted food, sex, and sleep. Basic and simple regardless of how complex this man might be otherwise. His primal side was overwhelming his intellect and socialization.

"You want both don't you? Are you good enough for them? Nothing's for free half-breed. You must give me something in exchange."

Trunks cocked his head to the side in amusement and confusion. Though his sub-conscious mind was indeed working, his body was finding it difficult to operate without direct consultation of his brain. He wasn't thinking clearly, but still, some small bits of brain were trying desperately to negotiate and shift the balance of power back to himself.

"Information? Would you be willing to trade some in exchange for say, your meals from now on? We've been kind to you of recent. Why should we continue to give you free food and shelter when others of our kind struggle in the hostile environment outside? My comrades spend entire days hunting and gathering food to feed our clan...and you. Do you deserve such kindness?"

Trunks held his bound hands in front of him.

"Oh, you want me to release the binds first?"

Trunks nodded.

"How do I know you wouldn't strangle me as soon as I did? I don't trust you anymore than you trust me half-breed."

Trunks shrugged his shoulders. Her distrust wasn't of his concern. His sub-conscious psyche was working overtime as it formulated a plan and relayed it to Trunks' nether region, the only system firing on full throttle these days. Trunks held his bound hands in front of him again and this time swayed his hips slightly.

"Free your hands and you will rock my world?" Taree chuckled. "Interesting proposition, but I still distrust you too much to allow such. What's to say you're good enough for me anyway? I am a Saiyan Elite. A Noble. What are you against that?"

Trunks breathed onto the transparent glass structure and even with bound hands, drew an insignia in the vapormist that had formed upon it. It was the saiyan royal crest.

Taree giggled, but still, it was progress. Trunks was giving her a bit more information. He had just confirmed her lieutenants' theory. This half-breed was of the royal saiyan bloodline, somehow, someway.

"Do you know what you just drew?"

Trunks nodded and smirked, thus revealing his ties to the bloodline evenmoreso.

"So you think you're better than me?"

Trunks snickered and gave an expression that read, 'well, duh!'

Inwardly, Taree was growing eager. So, her captive half-breed had an attitude and an ego. She loved a challenge, but she had to remember to keep the ball in her court. If the game shifted, the mistake could be fatal...for her and her already dying species. Despite the heavy dosage of drugs, it was apparent that this male was still thinking, somehow,someway.

"Bloodline aside, how do you know you can last against me? Are you as confident in your sexual prowess as you are with your snooty bloodline?"

Trunks remained indifferent and unphased.

"So you think you could withstand me eh? What if I stacked the odds against you? Do you like a challenge? I bet you do. Perhaps I should make it three on one?"

Trunks penis sent jolts of excited sensations up his body. It was like a dog suddenly realizing that an entire slab of fresh steak was about to be all his. Despite his brain's protest, his face revealed the answer to that. He smirked evilly, daring Taree to follow through with her diabolical,yet arousing plot.

"Oh,you'd like that wouldn't you? That is so royal bloodline. But are you willing to sacrafice? The price is high half-breed. I want information from you. Whatever I ask, you shall answer."

Trade his family and homeland for a chance at a sexual fantasy come true? Trunks wasn't that stupid, or was he? Who was Trunks Vegeta Briefs? What was his purpose in life? Was it more saiyan or human? Would anyone even care? Where the hell was he anyway!? These questions plagued Trunks' sub-conscious mind and haunted his dreams every night. Could what was left of his mind regain control of his sex-crazed, drug induced body? If so, would it be in time before he caused himself or those he loved more harm?

On Earth...

Vegeta managed to find his 'woman' in one of the labs adjacent to the house. Naturally he didn't knock and merely entered. It frightened Bulma out of her wits as she stumbled, knocked over the lab table, and nearly fried him with the welding torch she was using. Vegeta smirked.

"AND YOUR REASON FOR NEARLY KILLING US?" Bulma yelled, upset that her work was interrupted.

"Make me a ship, fast." Vegeta commanded calmly.

"Why should I? You nearly got us killed by storming in here like that! There IS an intercom system you know. You could have paged me."

Vegeta scowled. He had no time for petty arguments. "Do you want your son back or not?"

Bulma's mood immediately became that of excited concern. "Do you know where he is?"

"No, but I can look."

"Oh I see. Like you did that time you went searching for Goku. Yeah, sure, leave the rest of your family and this planet unprotected."

Vegeta thought about that. With Kakarrot permanently gone, Vegeta had indeed assumed the position of strongest of the Earth. He was its protector now, whether he wanted the job or not. "Perhaps Gohan and his brother--"

"I hardly think either of them will. Gohan's a family man and scholar now. He doesn't even train anymore. Goten, well, Goten, I don't think he could navigate around the moon and it doesn't even exist anymore."

Vegeta growled. True, neither son of Kakarrot were capable choices, but...

"I can make a ship Vegeta, but I want to know who and how its going to be used. Think about it and get back to me. And perhaps then I will set all this other work-related stuff aside to fulfill you personal desire. Now, let me get back to work. You're costing me a million zeni an hour if I can't get this prototype done and on display to investors by tomorrow."

Vegeta said nothing and simply turned and departed as he heard Bulma flip the welding mask back down over her face and torch the metal. He had some thinking to do and the best place for him to think was in the gravity room beating the crap out of some helpless drones and walls in hundreds of times Earth's gravity.

to be continued...