The Light to my Darkness

BY : SaiyanPrince541
Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 5403
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN DRAGON BALL Z, OR ANY OF THE PRIMARY CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY!! THOSE ARE ALL TORIYAMA'S!! THIS IS A NON-PROFIT, FAN-MADE STORY!!!

Chapter 41: Old times

"Hey Vegeta, can I tell you a secret?"

The Prince frowned, pausing midway, as he trailed his folded index finger, along the smooth, lissom, arm of his vibrant little female. Post-coitus was always so tranquil, as the vigorous pair felt the myriad endorphins leisurely frolicking through their respective bloodstreams, steadily cooling down their blazing figures, with soothing calm and comfort.

"What secret?"

"I have balls." She replied, chortling inwardly, upon seeing the incredulous, aversive expression, directed her way.

"Ha ha, stupid woman." He blankly remarked, following a brief pause.

"It's no joke." She insisted. "And I wasn't talking about the dragon balls, either."

"Oh really?" He played along with her silly little game and moved a hand down, cupping her wetness and exploring the general vicinity, with his avid fingers, setting off a few girlish moans and giggles. "You're obviously confused."

"Nope, you're just looking in the wrong place, stud." The heiress grinned, her own dainty hand travelling south along his body and pleasantly taking hold of the nicely encased twins, in question. "I was talking about these."

Were he not lying down already, the Saiyan would've tumbled head over heels at her ribald retort and accompanying action. Every so often, it seemed that she would startle him with a whole new dimension of sexual depravity!

"You're a sick woman!" He grimaced harshly, put off even further by that complacent look on her smug face and the blatant spark of mischief, within her skittish, everlasting, ocean-blue eyes. "Your indecency knows no bounds!"

"But it's the truth." Bulma responded, in earnest. "After all, I do have free reign over them." She impishly purred, deftly massaging the pair within her grasp, as if to demonstrate her point. A mortified Vegeta was forced to bury his face inside her bosom, in order to hide the many shades of crimson that flushed it, thereafter.

"Wrong, only I have free reign!" He growled, rubbing his first two digits, along her folds.

"I do- too!" Bulma childishly objected between a moan, swinging a leg over and winding it around his hip.

"Only because I allow it!"

"Oh shut up, that still counts, you know?!" The heiress argued. "I mean, who else can have you, the mighty Prince of all Saiyans, all to themselves, huh?!"

"No one." Vegeta smirked, bringing his face back up, so they were eye-to-eye. "Which is why you should feel honored woman, especially considering what a weakling you are."

"Yeah, well guess what meathead?!" The livid Bulma pressed her nose and forehead against his. The Prince scowled at the insult. "My strength lies here!" She tapped the side of her head twice, with her finger. "And it's been of invaluable use, time and time again! The Universe has enough hare-brained, muscle-bound morons, like you and Goku!"

"How dare you compare me to that third-class imbecile?!"

"Face it, brains and brawn complement one-another!" The blue-haired woman fervently lectured, disregarding his petty complaint. "One can't thrive without the other and I've always been the brains of the operation! That's my strength, so don't you dare call me a weakling ever again, you understand that, bub?!"

Vegeta remained silent, knowing there was absolutely no way he could refute or deny the truth behind her words. After all, the dragon radar and gravity machine had proven to be of invaluable use.

"Whatever." He shrugged his shoulders, before smirking teasingly at her, dark eyes glittering friskily. "Weakling."

"You jerk!" Bulma yelled, shoving him down and bestriding his hips, repeatedly slamming her puny, fragile fists against his rugged pecs. Before she even knew it, they were engaging in one of their trademarks bouts of rough, angry, hardcore sex, amongst her very favourite modes. Damn that Vegeta, always taking control of the situation! That sly little twerp riled her up for this very purpose- not that she wasn't loving every single second of it!

XXXX

In a guest room nearby, Yamcha covered his tormented ears, with a plush pillow. Ever since taking up Bulma's invitation to stay over at Capsule Corp a few nights, he'd fervidly aspired to win her back. However, all his endeavours had so far resulted in complete and utter failure, much to his misery and disappointment. Each night, he was haunted with the unrepressed sounds of that Saiyan fiend repeatedly violating his girl! Oh who was he kidding?! Bulma wasn't his anymore! The ex-bandit was heartbroken! Dammit, there had to be something he could do, some way to make her see reason! Vegeta wasn't right for her! He was simply using her for sex and enhanced training equipment! Anyone with half a brain could see that, so why couldn't she?!

The scar-faced warrior spent the next few hours, restlessly tossing and turning, whilst contemplating a potential solution to this mess.

'Hm, maybe that'll work.' He finally came up with a seemingly plausible plan, smirking to himself, thereafter.

The next morning, Yamcha invited Bulma over to West City Park, hoping they could talk alone for a while and enjoy a nice lunch together, his treat, of course.

"You're asking me out on a date?" The heiress asked, arms akimbo and one eyebrow raised, warily.

"No, not a date." He waved his hands emphatically. "Just a friendly get-together."

Bulma wrinkled her brows, a moment.

"Well- uh- fine, I guess." The heiress assented, after a brief pause. She knew what he was up to and she needed to make it clear that he had to let things go, but she didn't want to hurt him even further. The scarred man's face instantly lit up. "What about Puar? She coming?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" He replied. "She's staying over at Roshi's."

"Oh yeah." Bulma recalled. "Well, alright, just the two of us then. But it's not a date, just so we're clear, okay?"

"Right, right!" Yamcha nodded. "Thanks, Bulma!"

XXXX

That afternoon, the former lovers sat side-by-side on a bench, heartily enjoying some delectable Chinese takeout. Yamcha donned a black tank top, khaki pants and brown loafers. Bulma wore a lilac t-shirt, raspberry three-quarter pants to go with it and an exquisite pair of rhinestone sandals. She would often find her ex smiling at her, between mouthfuls, but pretended not to take notice. Honestly, he was beginning to creep her out.

"Well, that was great, Yamcha!" The heiress beamed, upon finishing up her meal, stretching her arms forward. "I really enjoyed it!"

"Thanks." He blushed a little, rubbing his fingers, against back of his neck.

"As shy as ever, I see." Bulma grinned.

"S-Sorry."

"Don't be, it's cool." She shook her head. "Sometimes, I like you better this way." She jabbed his chest with her elbow.

"Really?" He asked, tone almost hopeful.

"Well, yeah." She merrily replied. "Reminds me of the old times." Bulma giggled. "Gosh, you were such a dork, back then- but cute though, definitely cute."

"So, you're saying I'm not anymore?" Yamcha quirked an amused brow.

"Nope, now you're just a dork."

"Real funny, Bulma." The scar-faced fighter chuckled. "Anyway, speaking of old times, remember that tree over there?" He pointed ahead, to an oak tree, all by it's lonesome, towards the end of the park.

"Oh- uh- well- I'm not really-"

"It's where we first kissed, remember?"

Bulma's cheeks tinted a light shade of pink and she let out a few uneasy laughs, which caused Yamcha's heart beat to quicken, just a fraction. Perhaps hope wasn't completely lost.

"Yeah well- you made me wait for more than a year, before you finally grew the nads to go through with it." She rolled her eyes. "I mean, really, all that time, for one teeny weeny little kiss?"

"Well, I guess I was sort of afraid heh." He sighed wistfully. "I gotta say, I really miss those times."

"You know, sometimes I miss 'em as well." She smiled, facing the tree, as she felt a hint of nostalgia, settle within her. Her childhood was truly one of a kind. Ever since meeting that little monkey-tailed rascal Goku, she'd often found herself in the propitious company of Earth's greatest warriors. Each and every day brought with it, a whole new level of excitement.

"You- you do?" The former bandit instantly turned her way, heart now thumping like crazy.

"Of course I do." Her eyes glittered merrily, as recollections of the past flashed through her mind. "We were all just kids. Half the time, we didn't even know what we were doing, but that's what made it so-"

Her babble was cut off, as Yamcha's lips locked with hers. The scarred man shut his eyes, reveling in the all-to-familiar feel of her luscious lips. Gods, she was as enchanting as ever, if not more! Butterflies flooded inside his jubilant stomach, as he tasted her lower lip.

Bulma froze, her eyes shooting open in disbelief and heart racing. She remained transfixed for a good several seconds, till reality came crashing down. These weren't the soft, slick, balmy lips that had garnished her hankering soul and spirit, sending her floating atop cloud nine, for so many successive nights. Incredulity quickly transformed into searing incense and outrage. She crudely shoved him away.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" She stood up, screaming aloud and hardly noticing that she'd attracted the unwanted attention of nearly everyone in the park. The heiress was furious beyond words! How dare he lure her here and try to take advantage of the situation?! She couldn't believe that he would ever stoop so low!

"Bulma, I'm sorry, I-"

"Shut-up!"

WHACK!

She hooked him hard, right across the face, only to cry out as her knuckles throbbed in pain. The heiress swivelled around and tenderly caressed the aching zone, eyes tearing a little, as a result of the pain. She was truly peeved! This was a complete betrayal of their friendship! A true friend would never pull a cheap and sordid stunt like that!

"Bulma, are you okay?!" The scarred man asked solicitously, rushing over to her side.

"GET LOST!" She yelled, elbowing him in the ribs and running off to her car, angered and hurt by her ex's audacious behavior. Yamcha sped towards her, taking hold of her forearm, firm enough that she couldn't pull away, but gentle enough that it didn't cause her any harm.

"Let- me- go!" She objected, futilely trying to get free.

"Bulma, just listen, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"I said let go of me, you bastard!" She spat right in his face. A stunned Yamcha instantly released her and blinked a few times, hardly noticing as she bolted and drove away, in a fit of boiling fury.

'Dammit, I'm such an idiot.' He mentally berated, wiping off the fresh spittle, from under his eye. Here he was trying to win back his girl, but all he'd managed to do was widen the rift between them! He blatantly mistook her words! How typical! Acting without thinking is what got him killed by an inferior opponent, a mere few months ago! 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!'

Cursing himself the entire journey home, the crestfallen scarred man decided that he had to let Bulma go for the time being at least, lest he destroy whatever few scraps of friendship they had left. Vegeta would inevitably leave her with a broken heart, it was only a matter of time. He was determined to rescue her from his evil clutches before he had the chance, but that seemed like a fool's errand now. He sighed despondently and walked into his apartment, more lovelorn than ever.

XXXX

About fifteen minutes after the debacle at West City Park, Bulma arrived home and marched straight inside, more ticked off than ever. She needed an outlet and knew just the place!

The shirtless Prince was in the middle of a set of planche push-ups, his tightly knit muscles rippling under the gruelling force of 150 Gs. He was wearing grey sweatpants and white joggers. Glistening beads of sweat trickled from his strapping chest, dripping onto the hard, tensile floor of the chamber. A harsh banging sound outside suddenly made him fall flat on his face.

"What the fucking fuck?!" He irately cursed and blazed with white-hot fury, upon sensing the Ki of that annoying little blue-headed vixen! She had some nerve interrupting him in the middle of his training! He would make her pay! The fuming Saiyan turned off the gravity simulator and dashed towards the entrance, pressing the button to open it. "You-" He began hissing through grit teeth, but was immediately cut off as the heiress pounced without a second's delay, girding her slim arms around his neck and legs around his waist, while engaging him in a feverish kiss, all in one super swift maneuver. She attacked voraciously, amorously licking and nipping his soft lips, with ferocious abandon.

The dumbfounded Prince stumbled back a few steps, before gathering his wits and snarling, as he slammed her back into the metalled wall, quicker than she could follow.

"What do you think you're doing?!" He demanded, enunciating each word.

"Shut up!" She growled, not deterred in the slightest. Bulma placed her hand across his forehead and roughly forced his head back, exposing his thick, olive-hued neckline. She licked her parched lips and assailed it immediately, planting a trail of hungry kisses along it's savoury, muscled length, before lapping up the streaming rivulets of fresh perspiration, relishing their piquant, enthralling taste. Her heart raced, as she reached his drumming pulse. Bulma shuddered with raw, primal desire, upon feeling its rapid beats against her warm, pink petals. The heiress adamantly began sucking the unshielded zone, for all she was worth.

Once again the Prince was totally caught off guard. This wasn't like her at all. Was she possessed by a hellish demon of some sort?! He barely knew, but he was turned on more than ever by her wild, animalistic exploits, sparks of red-hot electricity crackling each and every blood cell within him! The primordial beast inside quickly began to seize control of his mind, as he pulled her head away, allowing him to straighten up and attack right back. With a searing vengeance, he crashed his lips to hers and compressed her against the wall, with his compact figure. Bulma instantly melted into his kiss and soon their tongues partook in a fierce battle for dominance. To any outsider, it would appear as though the zesty pair were literally trying to eat each other.

The rapacious Saiyan slipped a hand underneath her shirt from below, growling low as he felt her lace bra, obstructing him from getting a thorough hold of her soft, voluptuous globes. Consumed by fire, he tore her shirt in half, but was unable to proceed further.

"Fucker!" She hissed, roughly pushing him away and furiously lunging towards him, with vindictive resolve. How dare he spoil her relatively new shirt?! Yet again, Vegeta was completely unprepared as Bulma held him by the shoulders and using her calf, swept the back of his legs out from under him, landing him on the floor with an unforeseen thud that forced the breath right out of his lungs. The heiress was instantly on top of him. "You had no right!" She screamed, before taking off her ruined t-shirt and smothering him with it.

The Prince let out a muffled snarl and shoved her off, instantly assuming the dominant position above her, as was his birthright. "Crazy wench!"

"Boneheaded Saiyan!" She retorted and would've tried to scratch his eyeballs out, had he not restrained her arms and pinned them down beside her. That she still refused to surrender before his overwhelming might made her that much more ravishing in his eyes! This impetuous minx was truly one of a kind!

"I must say, you were right about one thing woman." Vegeta nestled his face against her neck, his lips quirking up, in a slightly faint smirk.

"Right about what?" She breathed, still struggling beneath him, yet losing inch after inch of resolve, her stomach knotting up tight at the low, virile inflection of his rough timbre.

"You do have balls." His smirk widened. Bulma growled and squirmed harder beneath her lover. "A human should know better than to interfere with my training!" He pressed his teeth against the juncture of her neck and shoulder, prompting an acute cry from the powerless female. He released her soon after and she moaned in pleasure as he used his tantalizing tongue to caress the swelling hickey that ensued.

"You don't understand." She objected, a hefty weight settling over her, as her struggles dwindled, little by little. Damn, he was so amazing! "I need this. I- I-"

"Quiet!" The Prince gruffly interjected, trailing his warm lips a little higher till they reached her drumming pulse, then letting his eager tongue join the fray once again, as he ventured along her neatly defined jawline. Bulma whimpered, no longer persisting, the allure of his gravely voice and the feel of his lips and tongue, re-igniting the scorching flame within her. She hardly knew why she was acting like such a termagant in the first place, but was certain that it had something to do with Yamcha's unprovoked move. Screw that! She didn't even want to think about that presumptuous fool, not when she had the greatest lover in the entire Universe!

Vegeta blitzed her with a barrage of raging kisses below the neckline, till he ripped off her saffron, cotton bra and cast it aside, immediately feasting upon her ample, sensuous mound, evoking a loud yip from the covetous female. Bulma moaned, as he continued pleasuring her.

"Keep going!" She brashly urged, eyes shut and chest rapidly rising up and down, as each impassioned breath drew closer and closer to the next. "Don't stop! Don't ever stop!"

"Vulgar woman!" The Prince bit down on her puckered nipple, making her cry out in delight.

"More, I want more!" She fervidly demanded, as though she were the one holding the strings. As always, her shrewish demeanor only fuelled the Prince's desires further. He finally liberated her hands and forced her three quarters off, along with her panties. As he proceeded to pull his sweatpants and underwear, he realized that the impatient, raunchy female was already working on them and had them off, in no time at all. Their respective footwear followed suite.

An earnest Bulma placed her slender left leg on the Saiyan's shoulder, while the other was spread sidewards, offering plenty of room for a perfect penetration. She hadn't tried this particular position before and that made her all the more feverish. As sadistic as ever, Vegeta began rubbing her wetness with the head of his hardened length, but made no further move to insert it into place.

"H-Hey!" The indignant heiress objected, lifting her leg up and slamming her heel on his shoulder. The flame-haired alien smirked, barely feeling a thing, but amused nonetheless. "Just put it in, you fucker!"

"Put what in?" He goaded, wrapping his fluffy tail around her right leg, spiralling her lust just a little higher.

"Dammit, stop teasing!" She mewled, hitting him again, harder this time.

"Tell me what you want." He smugly ordered in a low, captivating voice that enlivened the wild, unbridled butterflies within her stomach. The fiendish Prince used his tip to caress her folds up and down, whereby an explosion of arousal, flooded within her. She could barely mouth a few coherent words together.

"I want- I- I want your-"

"You want my what?!"

"I want your penis!" She boldly slurred, without the slightest semblance of shame or regret.

"Fine then!" He jammed his member within, whereby a surge of blistering, hot lightning shot right into her glaring capillaries, setting them alight.

"Yes, give it to me, Vegeta!" She squealed. "Give me everything you've got!"

"Patience, wench!" He seethed, setting a slow and rhythmic pace at first. No matter how incognizant, the Prince always felt the need to start out with a nice, even tempo, as opposed to skewering her, like some sort of wild animal. Bulma smiled, reveling in the blissful sensation of his soothing back-and-forth motions. She got up off the ground and wrapped an arm around his neck, letting him continue his assault, as they shuddered in sync and eventually met lips. Their bodies conjoined, both parties felt their stomachs drop low, as their minds were consumed by a lusty haze of heavenly radiance.

Vegeta tilted his head sideways and planted a soft, sensational kiss on her lower leg still positioned on his shoulder, re-invigorating her randiness, while giving her room to attack his muscled neckline, with her ardent lips, teeth and tongue. The rugged Prince cupped her rounded buttocks within his rough palms, as he upped his pace, pounding her with steadily accelerating effort. Bulma yelped in glee and grabbed his face, turning it back in her direction. He groaned pleasurably, as she took his bottom lip into her mouth, sucking and licking it, in earnest.

The flame-haired Saiyan ran his calloused hands up and down her bare, porcelain back, before steadily laying her down again and ramming deeper, harder and quicker, as he ravaged her enticing breasts, with his hot mouth.

"Oh Vegeta, oh God! I love you, my Prince!" She screamed, heart and mind enshrouded in pure, celestial bliss. "I love you so much!"

Vegeta's breath hitched, as her benign, hearty proclamation set his heart ablaze with a searing inferno, the likes of which he'd never felt. The Prince's soul lit up with radiant light and life. He bit down on her teat and continued drilling away, till they finally came together, in a thunderous climax of mind-boggling euphoria.

A few minutes later, Vegeta lay atop Bulma, face held within her lithe arms and huddled against her bosom, while his tail girded around her upper thigh. Their breaths were still somewhat labored, in the wake of this unexpected tryst.

"What the hell was that all about?" The Prince mumbled, finally breaking the serene silence that followed. Bulma giggled a little, as she traced little circles in his feathery hair, noticing that no matter how she toyed with those soft, raven fibres, they would immediately re-assume their upright position. Just like him, they refused to bend or bow, instead standing proud with regal poise, defying anything and everything. Gods, how could any man hope to compare to this perfect, hotheaded, screwball of a Saiyan?! The spoiled, entitled and inordinately rich Vice-President of Capsule Corp was rarely ever grateful for anything, but having her Prince here, inside her supple arms, made her feel like the luckiest girl in the entire cosmos!

"I'm not sure, I was just- uh- in a bad mood I guess." She smiled dazzlingly. "But I feel a whole lot better now." The heiress kissed him atop the head. "Thanks, lover."

The Saiyan's face reddened at the syrupy term. Damn woman!

"I'm a warrior, not a lover!" He growled peevishly, sitting up and staring her fixedly in the eye.

"Not just any warrior." Bulma placed a warm hand on his cheek, opting to stroke his ego. He'd definitely earned it. "You're a true Saiyan Prince and the most powerful warrior in the entire Universe!"

Vegeta was slightly taken aback, by her supportive words and felt his chest tighten, as his stomach lurched.

"Damn right, woman!" He nestled his face into the recess of her neck, drowning himself in her sweet, entrancing, floral scent.

"Mmmm." Bulma murmured, stroking the back of his head, as her heart blossomed. She loved when he scented her. It was adorable as hell. "You're also cuddly."

"Grrr, idiot." He growled, making her giggle, yet again.

An hour passed by peacefully and the heiress was reclining on the living room sofa, paying no heed at all, to the soap opera playing on television, as her tranquil mind sifted through the steamy events that had transpired in the gravity room. Gods, that crazy Saiyan was just too much!

"WOMAN!"

Bulma cringed and clasped her ears, before turning in the direction of said Saiyan. His shadowy eyes were bloodshot and his jet black hair, outlandishly static. A crabbed grimace contorted his rough-hewn features.

"V-Vegeta?" The heiress stammered, before screaming. "Don't scare me like that, you asshole! What the heck?!"

"Curse you, female!" He lividly pointed an accusing finger at her. "The gravity room reeks of sex! I can't even train properly, all because of your decadence!"

"O-Oh- I- uh- I see." She mumbled, scratching her head and laughing sheepishly. "Sorry 'bout that Veg."

"Sorry isn't good enough, you goddamn-" His words suddenly caught in his throat. "What- What the hell did you just call me?!"

"Relax, would you?!" She frowned, folding her arms. "It's just a nickname, Veg!"

"If you value your existence, you would be wise never to use it again, am I clear?!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Ve-Gee-Tah!" She articulated each syllable in his name, rolling her eyes and unfazed by his meaningless threat. Sometimes, he was far too sensitive and stringent for his own good. "Anyway, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-"

"What the hell am I supposed to do now?!" He furiously interrupted. "Your pathetic planet's gravity is far too low for me to reap any benefits!"

"Then why not do something besides training for once?" The heiress tactfully suggested.

"There is nothing else!" He snarled, then looked at her pointedly. "And if you think you can weasel your way out of this with sex, you're sorely mistaken!"

Bulma's face turned beet-red. Damn! He'd virtually read her mind!

"Okay, okay, no sex." She sighed and mentally scoped through for something, anything that would placate her crazy Saiyan's anger. "Hmmm, well, for starters, let's leave the gravitron open for the day and vent out the bad air."

"I already did that!"

"Oh, alright, well- uh-" Bulma pondered for a moment, before an idea clicked in her mind. "I know, maybe we can watch some of the matches from the old world martial arts tournaments."

"The what?"

"It's something we had here on Earth, where the planet's best combatants got together and duked it out, in order to determine who the greatest fighter was." She elucidated. "Goku participated in three of them."

"Forget it, that sounds lame and boring."

"It is not!" She objected. "Those guys were-"

"Weaklings." The Saiyan finished before she could even continue, waving his hand dismissively.

"Dammit, Vegeta, come on." She groused, lightly stamping the floor, in irritation. "You were much weaker than Frieza once, but you defeated him!"

"What's your damn point?!" He growled, irked that she brought up the lizard, but still glad that she reminded him of the greatest victory he'd ever accomplished, his life's dream.

"Point is, you should never underestimate others." She smirked, shaking her finger. "Everyone's a fledgling at some point. Just look at Earth's fighters now. They're much stronger than they ever were."

"Tch, they're still weak." He scoffed, but after a short pause, altered his approach just a little. "Though I have to admit, they do surprise me. I mean, not long ago the scar-faced weakling got killed by a Saibaman, but now he could defeat any member of the Ginyu Force, well- minus their Captain, before he decided to go amphibian."

Bulma chuckled a little at the memory of frog Ginyu.

"Well, see, there you have it." She smiled. "Let's just watch the good old stuff. I guarantee you'll enjoy it, okay?"

"I doubt it." He contended, but then shrugged his shoulders, as he finally decided to oblige her. "But I guess it'll have to do."

"Awesome!" Bulma threw a fist up, in triumph.

As they sat together and saw the tournament tapes, the heiress attuned herself to the occasional scoff, growl and condescending laugh, quickly realizing that she had her Saiyan hooked onto the screen.

"What kind of moron brings underwear to the battlefield?!" The Prince sneered, following the conclusion of the fight, between Krillin and Jackie Chun.

"Hahaha Don't ask me." She chuckled. "My friends are all kooks."

"Hmph, more like idiots."

"Hey, be nice!" Bulma playfully chided.

As they rolled through each match, Vegeta had to inwardly admit that he was quite impressed. In spite of their dismally low fighting power at the time, the Earthling warriors had excellent form, technique and discipline, in contrast to the vast majority of Frieza's army. The old bearded man, Jackie Chun, particularly stood out to him. It came as no surprise then, that Kakarot and his allies had nearly beaten him, when he'd planned to invade Earth. Weak, they have been, but their sense of purpose and communion, had always driven them to excel beyond their natural limitations, repeatedly granting them victory or near-victory, against impossible odds. He'd never say it aloud, but perhaps these oafs were just a little praiseworthy.



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