The medical chamber was a bit outdated by Vegeta's standards, but it was still top tier Frieza Force technology. In less than an hour, Vegeta's body was fully healed, though his mind was still fatigued from the long, irritating day.
Walking through the main hallway, the Saiyan Prince clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Cui."
He'd been in too much of a rush to really notice it before, but now that he had the time, Vegeta found himself annoyed by his new ship once again, for a different reason than the simple fact that it was cramped.
Specifically, he was annoyed by its origin. Now that he had a good look at the ship, it was clear that it was a hand-me-down ship, specifically handed down from Cui, Vegeta's annoying 'rival'. And Cui had known exactly who was going to end up with the ship when he traded it in, clearly.
Why was Vegeta so absolutely certain about that?
Because someone with the specific, chicken-scratch-like handwriting that Cui signed his mission reports and other documents with, had put great effort into vandalizing the ship.
Not actual, dangerous sabotage. Several flickering, cracked ceiling lights. Almost all of them, in fact. Obscene, or just annoying drawings plastered the walls. A chicken with Vegeta's unique hairstyle, a picture of an obscene gesture, a big bald guy who was clearly supposed to be Nappa sucking Vegeta's thumb for him. The words 'Saayans r stooped' covered an entire wall. More specific and varied insults covered another. Some of them were rather creative. 'Radets loses fahts to his own ferts'. 'Vajeetas planet blew cuz it thought he'd get to rool it'. Vegeta's personal favorite was 'Babies look at Napa and think 'One of Uz!" Not only was it rather funny, but it was also the least horribly misspelled.
Interestingly enough, there was nothing on Soy.
Apparently, the old man had a talent for going unnoticed.
Still, Vegeta planned on slaughtering Cui for the insults, the next time he ran into the purple-headed imbecile. With the mild boost his power level had gotten from the beating he'd endured, he believed that it was likely possible to do so, if necessary.
When Vegeta palmed open the door to his private quarters, he paused for a moment in a combination of shock and annoyance.
The shock lasted for exactly three seconds. "Get out, woman." He ordered coldly.
"I have a name. I believe we agreed that you would use it." She replied, ignoring his order.
"I don't care. This is my quarters. Get out."
Mel looked up, or rather down, at Vegeta. While he was in the medical chamber, she'd clearly made herself at home. The furs that'd once been her clothing were now piled in the corner of his quarters, a makeshift bed that reminded him somewhat of the straw 'bed' that she'd slept on back in the cave. In their place, she was wearing a red battle uniform, likely pulled from the meager supplies in the storage bay. She'd chosen the type for females, the one that covered the least amount of skin, leaving her arms, legs, and a bit of her belly exposed to the air.
The feral gleam of someone high on survival instincts flashed through Mel's eyes as she looked at him from where she was laying down.
The cold, finite way Vegeta phrased his order to 'get out' had slammed right into the fresh, raw PTSD that was still in the early stages of forming inside Mel's psyche. For a moment, in her eyes, he turned into a giant red bullish monster with four arms, and she scrambled up to a knee.
Something deeper, rawer than simple rage flooded Mel's brain as the last eight or nine years flashed through her mind.
Treated like a sub-human. A pet, to give orders to, and degrade for the amusement of those bean-like creatures. Over eight years of learning why the word 'Hell' was part of the word 'Helpless'.
Even now that it was over, that she'd left that planet, those creatures, behind, it still wasn't behind her. Not truly. It likely never would be, if she were honest with herself. The scars, the losses, didn't feel like the things that would ever truly heal. Those years… she still had nothing left but eight years of trauma and a bit of raw power that only barely compared to Vegeta's.
Never again.
Her arm stretched out before her conscious mind even realized what she was doing. A mass of ki, an orb, about the size of a baseball, popped out of the end of it, a silent challenge.
Vegeta's eyes widened for a fraction of a second at the simple idea that she would dare to challenge his authority on his ownship after everything that she owed him, while he was in his element, in his private chamber.
Then, the smirk slipped back into place. The woman had just gained freedom after years of captivity on that hellish planet. In his mind, he knew that no sane person would dare jeopardize that. Especially by shooting an actualki blast on a ship with walls that, to people like them, were easily destructible, where one single errant blast would spell certain, absolute death for every single Saiyan on the ship.
"You wouldn't dare." He called her bluff confidently.
It was the wrong call.
Before he'd even closed his mouth, the ki blast slammed into his shoulder.
It wasn't particularly strong for the Saiyan Prince's level. Maybe at the level of a light shove. His feet didn't even budge… but it was more than strong enough to blow a hole in the ship, had it hit anything other than him. He'd barely managed to stop his reflexes in time to take the blast rather than simply deflect it.
"Aa-uaa…" He trailed off, open-mouthed and speechless. But he managed to compose himself fairly quickly, through sheer force of will, recalculating his approach with the woman.
Responds to orders with extreme, irrational hostility blared across his brain as a note of warning for the future, pertaining to the woman… Mel. "Fine. Sleep in the corner if you wish. I don't care… But in exchange… I have kept up my end of the bargain. Tell me what you know about my brother, Tarble. Now."
After a moment, she nodded, visibly relaxing as the door closed behind Vegeta with an air of finality.