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Breaking the Prince (Part 2)	By : Doog Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2235 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or any of its characters. I will not make a profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter Ten
  Finally. Finally, my luck has changed.
Vegeta shot forward, his ki arcing out around him as he flew in a straight line over the monotone landscape. He was suspended between bluish-green sky and greenish-blue fields, interrupted only by green seas and short plateaus. Though Nammekusei’s endless sun shone brightly over the planet’s organic surface, Vegeta could see only red.
He replayed their deaths, allowing himself to savor the refreshing taste of satisfied bloodlust. There was the image of Kewie, exploding mid-air while trying to flee. Vegeta almost wished he had allowed the bastard to plead for his life a little longer. Had he known that Freeza and his men would soon lose their scouters, he would have enjoyed inflicting a slower death. Dodoria had perished similarly, his attempt to stave off his own end even more desperate.
While he’d always been all but certain that Zarbon and Dodoria were ignorant of his torture, Dodoria’s disclosure confirmed his long-held suspicion that they were aware of the Saiyajin’s fate. Regardless, he was surprised that Dodoria would actually reveal the truth behind the destruction of Vegetasei. Dodoria had been Freeza’s left hand for longer than Vegeta had known either of them, but perhaps that explained the betrayal. Anyone cowardly enough to happily accept slavery would probably do anything to save his own skin.
Despite the rush of killing a despised foe, Vegeta remained unsatisfied with how he had handled Dodoria’s would-be revelation. As tempting as it had been to throw the information back into Dodoria’s face, Vegeta had played along. After all, which was worse? Was it better to admit that he had known all this time that Freeza had killed his people and that he had served him anyway? Was it in fact best to feign ignorance and dismiss the importance of Freeza’s act? Either way, it didn’t matter in the end. Dodoria was dead.
At the thought, Vegeta could almost feel the moment of the henchman’s death all over again, and forced his focus to it. The ki blast that had left his fingertips and shredded the fat warrior into burnt dust had momentarily connected them. Perhaps it was his new ability to sense ki, but Vegeta thought he had felt the life force of the brute being obliterated.
Deep gratification aside, killing Freeza’s men had only been a bonus to the turn of events. Shortly after arriving, Vegeta had listened in on his scouter and confirmed that Freeza had already obtained most of the Dragon Balls. Freeza also seemed to have already amassed a great deal of knowledge about their use, all of which was incredibly discouraging. Kewie’s death had done little to better his chances of success, as he had always been the least of his worries. Only when the various signals from the scouters had cut out almost all at once had Vegeta’s mood begun to improve. Upon confirming that all but his scouter had been destroyed, Vegeta realized that the odds had impossibly shifted in his favor.
Vegeta’s life had been so straightforward in his youth: he had been born to be the most powerful warrior and everything he had done had indicated that to be his own true path. When Freeza had changed everything, his once-certain destiny had evaporated so completely that he had questioned whether it had ever been there at all. Freeza had ridiculed him for thinking it existed, and he had hated himself at times for his naïveté. Since his enlightenment through torment, it had been too painful to believe as he once had; channeling his anger and self-disgust into aspirations of vengeance was much easier.
Vegeta found it strange that it wasn’t until now that his old destiny seemed possible again. Only when his situation was at its worst, when Freeza was so frighteningly close to usurping his chance at immortality, had the circumstances shifted suddenly. It were as though his destiny had returned, so brilliant and tangible that it was difficult to remember the darkness he had felt in its absence. Its light cleared his path, reminding him of who he was meant to become. He had spent so many years thinking about killing Freeza that he had forgotten his true purpose...but lost years would mean nothing if he were immortal.
His pride swelled as he contemplated how he had managed to turn his pathetic loss on Chikyuusei into an overwhelming advantage on Namekkusei. Vegeta surged faster at the thought that he now possessed abilities beyond Freeza’s reach. He imagined Freeza: stranded, frustrated, and blind to his actions. How long would it take him to realize that Dodoria wasn’t returning?
Vegeta had been traveling in a straight line for some time now, heading away from the part of the planet where Freeza had concentrated his efforts. Though he’d never before succeeded in angering Freeza to such a satisfying degree, he was glad that he was not near the tyrant to see the results. Even thousands of kilometers away, Vegeta could sense Freeza’s ki, looming like an unrisen sun below the horizon. Its magnitude radiated outward, blotting out smaller energies as though casting them in shadow, but Vegeta could still tell that Zarbon was nowhere nearby. Ahead of him, he had yet to sense any clusters of smaller kis that would signify a village. Though he was still new to the technique, he had only faltered once, mistaking a large fish for Chikyuujin. He was confident he would not make the same error again.
Vegeta continued to scan the planet below him, the warm air turned cool by his speed. Just one Dragon Ball. As long as I hide one of them, Freeza can not have my wish. It will be days before they can get new scouters...plenty of time to find the last Dragon Ball and steal Freeza’s. Then I will have my immortality.
****
Though he had overheard few clues on his scouter as to the actual appearance of the Dragon Balls, Vegeta immediately recognized the large orange orb. It sat on a padded pedestal at the far wall of the humble dwelling, shining brightly even in the dim light. He laughed to himself, a quiet release of tension. “Here I thought it was going to be hidden, but there it is, on regal display,” he said to himself, crossing the room to pluck it from its pillow.
The Dragon Ball had a weightlessness in his gloved hands that betrayed its incredible importance. It was also larger than he had expected, though he had little idea what he had expected in the first place. He turned it gently, watching the four small stars forming a square at the ball’s center maintain their conformation no matter how he reoriented it. Fit for a prince, he thought, mesmerized. His hungry reflection broke the spell of the stars, and he smiled at himself before balancing the ball in his right hand and leaving the white hut.
Vegeta walked through the remnants of the village, contemplating what to do with the Dragon Ball. The object was too large to carry on his person, and it was unnecessarily risky to do so anyway. The uniformity of the planet also made concealment an unfavorable prospect, as any geographical landmarks could easily be confused or altered in the course of a battle. The villages were the only things distinct on the planet, so he decided it would be best to hide the Dragon Ball nearby. After all, Freeza and his men would not be able to find this village even if they had scouters; all of the villagers were dead.
At that thought, Vegeta moved to the small lake at the periphery of the village. He looked at the ball one last time. “Now then, for this thing...” he said as he gently tossed the ball into the green water with a smooth plunk. He watched it grow smaller, still radiant in the murky water, its stars never turning away from him even as they were swallowed by the depths.
“If I submerge the Dragon Ball here, no one will be able to find it...I’m the only one that knows about it,” he spoke aloud, reveling in the idea of holding such a secret from Freeza. He launched himself upward, stopping to hover beyond the smoke leaking from the damaged dwellings below. Bodies of both young and old Namekkujin littered the ground between the primitive structures. Those with arms still attached had them splayed wildly above their heads, as if they were waving good-bye.
“Freeza and his men have five of the Dragon Balls,” he thought out loud again. “I guess I’ll search for the next one.” He turned to face a direction at a ninety degree angle to his previous path, deciding to scan the planet’s surface in a methodical zig-zag, working his way further from Freeza. He released his ki, pushing forward while noting what he could of the nearby geography. He reached outward with his newly-acquired sense, letting his eyes lose focus as he shifted his concentration to finding another cluster of Namekkujin kis.
The day wore on as he flew across the sparsely-clouded sky. The third sun to rise since his arrival soon added its heat to the second, which was setting. Far behind him, he could feel Freeza’s ki shifting away, moving back in the direction he remembered Freeza’s ship to be. For a moment he missed his scouter. Despite its betrayal, his scouter had always marked the steady, predictable passage of time, and had catalogued with precision the once-unchanging battle powers of enemies. Now he was living in a primitive world ruled by instincts instead of technology. Though the uncertainty was bothersome, the idea of hunting the Namekkujin restored a feeling of normalcy, of rightness. The villagers he had just slaughtered had been like so many others he had destroyed, yet especially deserving of their fate. Any race that could create items of such power but lived so peacefully deserved to be stamped out; they were an abomination to the natural order of the universe.
The third sun was high in the sky when Vegeta began to become frustrated. He was running out of space to explore, and there was still no hint of the remaining Nammekujin. “Damn, I can’t find anywhere that has multiple powers. What does that mean? Aren’t there any more villages?” The ground sped past him, blurred by his speed as his frustration began to bubble over.
A flash of something to his left caught the attention of his new sense, and he came to a stop mid-air, staring over his shoulder. “There are two powers moving.” He compared them to the kis he had felt before, and identified the first as Namekkujin almost immediately. The second, however...
“That’s strange...one of them doesn’t feel like a Namekkujin, nor one of Freeza’s men. That’s disconcerting. Maybe I should go check it out,” he decided. Though he had been traveling along the edge of the area he was intending to cover, he redirected further out, locking in on the traveling kis. “Could it be...the Chikyuujin?” he wondered, considering Dodoria’s accusation once more. He had felt something suspicious earlier, but dismissed it after an unsuccessful investigation. Now that he thought about it again, the Chikyuujin did have the ability to decrease their kis to almost nothing. In any case, he would not be fooled again. If the Chikyuujin were on Namekkusei, they would not escape. They would of course sense him coming after them, but he could simply blow up the whole area if they disappeared.
Vegeta traveled with this single goal in mind, quickly nearing the area when both of the kis suddenly vanished. It has to be them, he thought excitedly. Just as he closed in, however, another, larger ki suddenly screamed for his attention. Zarbon. He could feel the alien’s ki burning even further to his left, and quickly veered off course to meet him. As he moved closer, the unique ki signature of the henchman took on a distinct quality. “This power is Zarbon, no doubt about it,” Vegeta grinned to himself. Most importantly, Zarbon seemed to be alone. Freeza’s ki was still looming far behind them. “I’ve been waiting for him to move out on his own.” Fool.
Of course, Freeza would not know to keep Zarbon close by. He did not yet have a reason to suspect that Dodoria had perished at Vegeta’s hand, nor would he think that Vegeta could do the same to Zarbon. In their arrogance, they were sure to underestimate the gains in power he had made on Chikyuusei.
Vegeta altered his course so that he was traveling almost parallel to Zarbon’s path, slowly closing the gap between them until he was able to make out the distinctive uniform and long green braid. That Zarbon would be traveling on his own on this part of the planet, and that Vegeta would be led to him by their mutual enemies was almost impossible to fully appreciate in the wave of excitement preceding their fight.
Vegeta was already swooping in, their paths inevitably set to cross by the time Zarbon’s face flashed shock. In the few seconds Vegeta had to contemplate this latest opportunity, he did not have time to fully consider his luck. Before their bodies collided, there was only time for one word to form in his mind: destiny.
****
The organic scent of moist soil made him turn his head, his mouth opening to take a deep breath. The sudden intake of fresh air triggered a fit of gagging and coughing, and he turned to face the ground again as his lungs ejected more of the murky water. Since Vegeta had pulled himself onto the shore, the sun had begun to evaporate the green sea from his battered uniform, leaving him with the chilled feeling of a cold sweat. His head rang: a steady, pulsing sensation that felt as though the front of his skull were caving in. After having his forehead smashed into Zarbon’s monstrous head so many times, this seemed very possible.
Vegeta’s headache made it difficult to keep himself oriented in space and time. When he had first pulled himself out of the water, the world had felt as though it were tilting backwards and that he might fall back into the artificial lake. After he had crawled forward he realized that it was the bank that was tilted, not the entire planet. He had closed his eyes against the harsh sun, but this only added to his disorientation when he opened them again. Had the sun above him moved, or was this a new sun, rising to follow the one before it? He was too weak to remember the direction the suns were traveling, and so could not tell if the sun was moving backwards, or rather, if this was a different one...
I have to move, his thoughts snapped. Another part of his mind protested. There’s no way to win now...by the time I’m healed again, Freeza will have the scouters...He lifted his head to look at the smattering of trees and plateaus in the distance. No, there has to be...if I eat something...if I can sneak up on them... How did Zarbon... How did I never know he...? So quickly...have I ever...? How can I...? Vegeta’s mind grasped at straws, unable to complete a thought until one simple question rose louder than the rest. Is this how I die? After so many years...is this how I die?
“No,” Vegeta groaned to himself, hacking up more mucus and foamy water. He lifted his head again, trying to pick out a goal. Fresh blood from his injured forehead rolled into his left eye, and he clenched it shut. I am not about to die, he thought. But how... The self doubt pushed forward again, but he answered it, more firmly this time, digging the toe of one of his boots into the dirt and pushing as he reached forward to pull himself. I am not about to die!
Vegeta’s new mantra propelled him several meters, his still-wet stomach and chest dragging across the dried dirt. The painful twinge of a oddly-twisted muscle made him pause, his body shaking. “D-damn it!” he cried breathlessly, his vision beginning to darken at the edges. Still trembling, he spoke as if to command his body to cooperate. “I-I am...not...about...to die!” He forced himself a few more centimeters, but the ground was tilting below him again, though this time he knew it was his own senses failing him. Some instinct that danger was closeby prodded at his fading awareness, but the darkness momentarily blotted it out.
When he felt his head against ground, he knew he was not entirely unconscious, or at least had not been for long. He was simply too weak to move or open his eyes. He tried to remember what had been happening, but a loud stomp to his right reminded him of the impending danger he had felt seconds before.
The ki looming over him belonged to Zarbon. He’s returned to finish me off, Vegeta thought, his lungs filling feebly with warm air. His body was too far gone to protest, and his will to fight was nothing without his body.
A firm hand suddenly rested against the back of his armor. The added weight made it difficult to take his next breath, but he managed to push the hand up.
“W-what? To think that he’d still be alive. He’s one tough guy.” Zarbon’s voice surprised him. It wasn’t the voice of his monstrous form, but that of his normal body. The idea that Zarbon was shocked that he was still alive elicited a bristling of his pride, but this was brushed aside as Zarbon lifted his hand away and continued. “Then again, it’s because of that that I’ll be spared this time around.” The words were a jumble in Vegeta’s mind, and when Zarbon moved away, Vegeta was certain that he was about to be destroyed once and for all. Vegeta did not have the strength to brace himself, so he continued to lie motionless.
Instead of the heat of a ki blast, however, Vegeta felt the world spin around him as Zarbon lifted him by his right wrist. “We’re going to treat you. You’re one lucky guy,” Zarbon announced, slowly raising them into the bright sky.
Lucky. The word echoed meaninglessly in Vegeta’s mind.
****
For the first time in his life, Vegeta was happy to be in a medical tank. Once again, deadly circumstances had unexpectedly transformed into a golden opportunity. The humiliation of being defeated at the hands of a transformed Zarbon had long since been washed away by the warm water of the tank and the possibilities presented by being conveniently dropped behind enemy lines. Not only was he being healed, but he was now potentially closer to stealing Freeza’s Dragon Balls than he could have hoped with even the greatest of stealth.
Waking up to the terrifying magnitude and proximity of Freeza’s ki had almost made him betray himself, but the medics had dismissed the drastic increase and decrease in vitals as an irregularity in the system. After all, according to the medical machine, he was far from being healed. Vegeta knew that the tanks used the same technology as the scouters, and that it would therefore have a difficult time reading his healing progress if he kept his ki lowered. This was initially easy as he was extremely weak when he regained awareness. As he continued to heal, he knew that his plan was working when one of the machine’s alerts had rung an alarm. Vegeta had heard several of the medics busy themselves at their respective stations in time to look busy when Zarbon had stormed into the medical room. Vegeta wondered if he had actually felt the edginess in Zarbon’s ki; he could certainly hear it in the green alien’s voice when he had given orders over the flurry of beeping. “You are to do everything you can. Everything. Vegeta can not die!”
Vegeta hadn’t died. In fact, he was almost entirely healed, though the medics had no way to know. The head medic had even warned Zarbon that there was a chance that he would live but not regain consciousness. Zarbon had not taken that very well. They know that I have a Dragon Ball, Vegeta reasoned. Why else would Zarbon care if I lived or died?
  Because Freeza wants you alive, a fearful voice answered. He will want me alive after I take his Dragon Balls, Vegeta countered. He remembered that he had felt Freeza moving back toward his ship while he had been searching out the remaining Namekkujin villages. That meant that the Dragon Balls were probably on his ship or somewhere nearby. He only had to catch Freeza off guard, find the Dragon Balls, and make his escape.
Vegeta wanted to wait until he was completely healed to take full advantage of his opportunity to increase his power level yet again. The beating Zarbon had inflicted had been so brutal and fast that Vegeta was sure his power level would increase incredibly. He would certainly be able to defeat Zarbon now, but vengeance would have to wait.
Though it had been many years since Vegeta had accompanied Freeza on his ship, he could still distinctly remember the vessel’s layout. Vegeta concluded that the best and only place he would have time to check for the Dragon Balls would be Freeza’s control room. The medical bay was on the opposite end of the ship, meaning he would have a workable number of seconds to exit the chamber and misdirect Freeza and his men. If they were not there, or if Freeza did not leave his control room, Vegeta would leave the ship immediately. There was no reason to risk being caught by Freeza, not now that he was healthy enough to steal the Dragon Balls via stealth at some other time.
The perfect opportunity came when all but the head medic were gone. Zarbon had also left, apparently to report Vegeta’s stabilization to Freeza. The head medic began talking to him through the tank. “There’s quite a bit of damage here. There may be no hope. I’m counting on you. If you don’t regain consciousness, I’m the one who Freeza-sama is going to take it out on, after all,” the medic’s grating voice pierced through the thick, clear walls of the tank. The respectful “Freeza-sama” was especially offensive. “Then again,” the medic continued, “even if you do come back to life here, you’ll be on your way to hell again by Freeza-sama’s hand soon enough anyhow.” Vegeta brushed aside the images elicited by the off-hand comment, letting it instead fuel his coiled rage.
The medic said something under his breath that Vegeta didn’t catch before returning to stand directly in front of the tank. This was it. “Well, all there is to do now is wait for you to wake up. Don’t give us any more trouble, okay? Ve-ge-ta-chan,” the medic mocked.
Vegeta opened his eyes, his senses of sight and ki joining to lock on the medic like overlapping crosshairs. The medic’s face slacked in shock as Vegeta released a burst of ki, blowing away the front of the tank and releasing a flash of warm liquid. With one swift movement, he swept his arm around his head, removing the electrodes and face mask before bringing his palm forward to send a small blast of ki through the medic’s chest. The medic’s face held the same gaping shock, even as he emitted a death cry and fell forward into the pool of healing fluid. No alarms sounded, and even the medical tank was silent, its major power supply severed by his release of ki.
Vegeta leapt out of the tank, landing in front of the downed medic. Feeling cocky, he placed a foot on the large purple head of the alien, grinding his boot into the soft flesh with a laugh. “Looks like you’ve underestimated my powers of recovery, huh?” The feeling of Freeza’s daunting ki moving closer returned his attention to his plan. “Now, then...”
Flexing against his still-battered armor, Vegeta turned toward the rear-facing wall of the medical room. He turned his palm toward it, watching as he formed a ball of ki there and held it. Infusing intense power into the small orb was effortless, the way breathing was effortless. His latest healing had increased his power more than even he could have anticipated.
Still admiring his improvement, he released the ball of ki, watching it explode through the wall, pass through the hallway beyond, then continue through the outer wall of the ship. The blast rocked the entire vessel and black smoke filled the room; Freeza and Zarbon would definitely be on their way now. In preparation for their arrival, he jumped through the newly-created hole to hide behind some storage cannisters in the hallway.
Seconds later, he heard the door to the medical bay open, then hurried steps toward the hole in the ship’s interior wall. “Oh, no! He escaped outside!” It was Zarbon, sounded delightfully panicked.
“He did what?!” Freeza was right behind him.
Terrific, Freeza is with him! So he had felt Freeza’s ki moving. Vegeta dared to peek around the corner of the tall canisters, enjoying the wide-eyed expression on Zarbon’s profile as he stepped into the hallway.
“Hurry! Hurry and go after him!” Freeza ordered, with more emotion than Vegeta could ever remember him having.
“Why, you!” Zarbon gritted, sticking his head out of the exterior hole and looking around frantically.
“Hurry! You must find him at all costs! He could not have gotten far yet!” Freeza continued to shout angrily. Witnessing Freeza’s cold demeanor melt away was a thrill unlike any other. To think that the tyrant was capable of experiencing panic and frustration made Vegeta drunk with triumph as he shook with quiet laughter.
Fools! You fell for it all too easily. Satisfied that Freeza would remain to oversee Zarbon, he broke into a quiet run, racing to the opposite end of Freeza’s ship. He had prepared for the possibility of taking down any guards, but it appeared that all of Freeza’s men were either posted outside or had been sent out to find the remaining Namekkujin villages. He reached Freeza’s control room in no time, and activated the door without difficulty.
The door slid open to reveal a sight that made Vegeta’s chest tighten with excitement. He gasped, bracing himself against the door frame. The five Dragon Balls sat on the floor, sprawled carelessly in a group to one side of the room. Just as the first he had collected, these had stars that seemed to face him, as though they had been expecting him. There lay five more stepping stones to his destiny.
A wild thought crossed his mind, making him emit a low, dangerous laugh. For a moment, he yearned to leave some sort of message for Freeza, perhaps like the one that had been left for him ten years ago. Dear Freeza-sama. Allow me to take this current opportunity to inform you that your era is at an end. Your loving Vegeta. He laughed at how incredibly satisfying such a gesture would be, though he knew he did not have the time or resources to make it a reality.
“I have won!” he announced to himself, grinning as he stepped forward to claim his prize.
****
Vegeta could not readily identify the feelings coursing through him, for they were born of something entirely foreign.
He knew the exhilaration of victory in battle, as well as the darker, twisting satisfaction of inflicting suffering. He could recognize a stab of fear, the ache of self-disgust, and the void of loneliness. He remembered the bitterness of resignation, and the cold, endless detachment that had insulated him from madness. He lived almost every day with the burning insistence of hatred and the accompanying festering of unpunished humiliation. He even knew what it was to tentatively hope, to risk a plunge into a pit of disappointment too deep to ever escape, in order to believe that his situation would one day be different.
He had never had a reason to feel this way. There had never been a turn of events to inspire this sort of exaltation, except in the innocence of his earliest years. Now it were as though the weight of his misfortune, the weight of his life had been lifted and left behind him. At the imminent prospect of immortal youth and all of the resulting possibilities, he felt a joy so complete that he could not identify a word for it.
The euphoria he was experiencing had been so great that he had been moved to spare the lives of the Chikyuujin. They would, of course, eventually perish with the rest of their miserable planet. It was very counter to his instincts to leave enemies breathing, but once he had stolen the final Dragon Ball, he had experienced a sudden whim to leave them unharmed. Upon reviewing his unlikely mercy, Vegeta decided that he was pleased. After everything the filthy Chikyuujin had put him through, they deserved to live long enough to personally witness their planet’s obliteration.
As he shot through the air, Vegeta could not help but acknowledge again and again that he only had to retrieve the Dragon Ball resting at the bottom of the village’s lake. After, he could return to the hiding place of the other five Dragon Balls. Then he would have immortality. It was a while before his mind could move past that simple truth, but eventually he forced his thoughts to move further, to scheme out the details of his impossible achievement.
Vegeta’s path was clear around him, and no one was following behind him. The Chikyuujin were probably too shocked and relieved at being spared to dare to follow him, and Zarbon had been easily dispatched. Even if Freeza had some way to know that his right-hand man was dead, he would have no one else to send and no idea where to send them. Vegeta grinned wickedly. In fact, Freeza wouldn’t know that Vegeta had gained immortality until the tyrant was sucking his dying breaths around a large hole in his chest.
But I can’t take him on yet, Vegeta checked his urge to fight, his grip around the one-star Dragon Ball tightening. My best chance is to leave and build my strength. Regardless of being immortal, Vegeta knew his power level was still nowhere near enough Freeza’s to kill him, let alone with the slow pace and cruelty he deemed appropriate. Upon considering the discrepancy in their power levels further, he imagined a new and terrible possibility. Vegeta considered the horrific consequences of allowing his immortal self to fall into the clutches of the sadistic ruler. There was no way to know how exactly his wish would be granted, and it was likely he would still be susceptible to pain and damage, even if only in the short-term. His ordeal had been terrible enough when Freeza had worked within the narrow limits of what would cause Vegeta to want to die but not kill him. Vegeta was loath to imagine how his suffering could be expanded and made endless without the crucial limitation of death.
But he has to catch me first. Freeza’s ship won’t be able to pursue me with the damage it’s taken, and I can change to a different transport once I can find a developed planet. Vegeta caught himself smiling again. There should be plenty of time to visit Chikyuusei before I find the right opportunity to kill Freeza. Vegeta wondered if the half-breed child had any chance of relaying his message to Kakarrot in time. Kakarrot will find out soon enough. He laughed at length, waiting for the smoking remains of the Namekujin village to appear ahead of him.
****
“Why would you turn your back on him, Vegeta-chan?”
ReaCoom continued to speak, insulting his fighting abilities, but Vegeta could not move past the simple question. ReaCoom had been making quick work of beating him to death, and he thought momentarily that this was affecting his focus. His head and torso being forced half a meter into the hard ground certainly hadn’t helped. Still, the offensive question dealt a greater blow: Vegeta remembered, yet again, that he was utterly alone in his suffering under Freeza. Nobody would ever know Freeza’s deepest evils, nor would want to join him in attaining revenge.
ReaCoom continued his flamboyant show of readying himself to deal the next blow. Vegeta stood with his shoulders slouched forward, his own strength draining out from under him while he felt the battle power of his opponent collecting again. “If not, then it’s about time I killed you. Is that okay?” ReCoome asked.
Vegeta made no attempt to respond, his breath continuing to heave. You monster. Damn it...To think he’d be this strong. It’s almost as though he’s treating me like a toddler. If it keeps going like this, I’m going to get killed by him...but what does it matter now? Freeza has the Dragon Balls. What use is my life if I can’t end Freeza’s? At least if he died here and now he would not have to face the reality of Freeza’s complete and permanent triumph.
ReaCoom continued to strike poses, laughing and speaking teasingly before announcing, “Okay, I’ll finish you with this!” Vegeta stared ahead, recognizing that he didn’t have enough energy to dodge whatever attack was coming next.
“ReaCoom...Eraser Gun!” ReaCoom’s mouth opened and a solid beam of bright purple energy shot out of it. Vegeta held his breath, wondering what it would feel like once it was burning straight through him.
Instead of the hot blast of energy hitting him head on, he was pushed suddenly from the side. The force lifted him up and then knocked him to the ground as an explosion shuddered in the distance. The weight of a small rock, no, a small body, shielded him from the debris that flew past. When the ground had finished shaking, Vegeta lifted his head to see that it was Kakarrot’s son who had pushed him out of the way of the deadly beam.
“Move! You’re in my way!” he growled reflexively. “Wh-who asked you to do that?!”
The small half-breed stood up and shrank away, his face blank with shock. Vegeta pushed himself up, bracing his arm with the other as a stab of pain shot through it. “You idiot! If you had time to rescue me, why didn’t you attack ReaCoom?”
Hasn’t Kakarrot taught his son the basics of battle? Vegeta grimaced with disappointment at still being alive. Of course not, they are all peace-loving weaklings. “For crying out loud, your softness makes me want to vomit!” Vegeta spat. He thought of Nappa and his rescue on Bachisei many years ago. Why were so many intent on delivering him to Freeza?
Being “saved” by a child renewed his disgust at having to fight in the same vicinity as the Chikyuujin. They were utterly useless. Not only had they thwarted his chances at immortality and added insult to injury by associating themselves with him, but now they were prolonging his death while ensuring their mutual enemy’s survival. His boiling anger was a welcome distraction from his own defeat, but not for long. ReaCoom was getting to his feet.
****
An endless horizon stretched out above him. The sun was bright in his eyes. He tried to turn his eyes away, but the rays came from every direction. The shining line elongated around him, orbs both rising above and below it. The suns brightened, their light multiplied and distorted in the haziness of his vision.
More than three suns? Vegeta squinted, and the suns transformed into lamps, hovering just out of reach. Their glow fell slowly through him, weighing him down. He could feel the buzz of gravity pulling him, working with the steady push of the lamps to hold him in place. What is my next mission? He found he couldn’t remember. He continued to stare at the lamps until he realized that he couldn’t remember what he was trying to remember.
Didn’t I try to escape? He recalled sterile, endless hallways. No, that was just a...
Vegeta raised his arm, watching the back of his bare hand as it drifted unsteadily upward. No glove. Where is my glove?
That is about right. Maintain him at this level.
Vegeta’s hand fell back to his side. It’s happening again? And again. And again. And again...
We have verification that it is fully functional.
Do you hear that, Prince? How about one more time? For old time’s sake...
That face.
That smile.
Vegeta jolted awake, leaping into standing position. His renewed, sharpened senses immediately recognized his surroundings as the medical bay of Freeza’s ship. No one was there but Kakarrot, but he had felt a ki moving suddenly closer.
“What’s this? Something’s headed this way!” Vegeta realized, his memories falling swiftly into place. He was waiting for the Chikyuujin to return with the Namekujin so he could make his wish. This ki, however, was larger and pulsing with rage.
“It’s an incredible battle power.” He clenched his fists in front of himself, fighting down the adrenaline rush that came from being shocked out of a deep sleep. He had to concentrate on identifying who was coming straight for him. The answer dropped into his consciousness as a clear image, a strange visual echo of the face he had seen in his dream.
“F-Freeza!” he gasped. He would be there in minutes, possibly sooner. Vegeta’s forehead was already dripping with a cold sweat when he turned to stare at the beeping medical tank that contained Kakarrot. Even from meters away he could see that its sequence was not yet complete.
It will take several more minutes for Kakarrot to fully recover. It’s still a bad time for Freeza to appear. Where are those little bastards? Haven’t they returned yet? Vegeta broke into a run, intending to find Kakarrot’s son and ask what was taking so long. He moved through the exit, its door stuck open.
“Shit! I’ve got a bad feeling about this!” He growled as he began to run down the curved hallway. Despite his fervor to find the young half-breed, the lack of light coming in from the large windows lining the exterior of the ship immediately caught his attention. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned. “What?!”
Vegeta threw himself at the protruding porthole, bracing his gloved hands against its thick, clear material. The sky was dark.
****
The brightness of day instantly returned as the Dragon Balls exploded away from each other in a ring overhead. The large orbs plummeted down, landing with heavy impacts. Now that they were close, Vegeta could see that their translucent orange and unchanging stars were gone, replaced with an opaque gray. He turned to quickly stare at each of the transformed objects, his thoughts of how to defeat Freeza interrupted by the unexpected outcome.
“What’s happened?” he asked. “Why did the dragon disappear and the sky become light again?” Though he wanted to believe that this was the normal result of voicing the final wish, the equal displays of shock on his enemies’ faces told him something had gone awry. “Why have the Dragon Balls turned into those stones?”
The small Namekujin was already falling to his knees, whimpering something about “The Grand Elder-sama.” Vegeta couldn’t comprehend what the child was saying until he heard the tear-choked phrase “passed away.”
Vegeta’s thoughts leapt back to the conversation that had occurred outside of the Grand Elder’s home. If the Grand Elder dies, the Dragon Balls will be gone. The Namekujin continued to babble on, but Vegeta couldn’t listen through his rage.
“What do you mean, you little snot?!” he yelled as he ran over to the alien. He kneeled down, screaming directly into his ear. “What about my...what am I supposed to do about my eternal youth?!”
The child winced, turning to him to speak in his small voice. “What do you want me to say?”
Vegeta hissed through his teeth. My destiny...after all this time, all this work...my life...this is what happens?! Since his arrival on Namekusei, every turn in his path had initially presented as a dead end. Through improvisation and luck he had managed to survive countless situations that should have meant his defeat. He tried to see the next solution, turning the situation over quickly in his mind, but his ignorance of the secret workings of the Dragon Balls hindered his efforts. His destiny had met an impasse.
Vegeta stood, turning to face the Chikyuujin. “You rotten punks!” You did this. “If you hadn’t double-crossed me, none of this would have happened!” He had fought his entire life, never relying on another to come to his aid. That he had been forced to depend on these idiots in his final attempt to escape Freeza’s rule and that they had caused him to fail was too large of an offense for him fully conceptualize. “You’re going to pay!” He began to advance, fists raised, as they stood their ground, shaking. “You dirty, rotten fools!” I’m going to make you pay. No amount of your suffering will ever be enough, but you will pay.
Then, as suddenly as the Namekusei sky had changed from night to day, Vegeta’s senses were overwhelmed by a singular awareness. The battle power pressed into him, droning through him like a living, pulsing cloud. The sheer magnitude of it was bewildering, washing away thought and emotion in one conclusive sweep.
Vegeta knew without seeing who stood just beyond and above them, but his eyes still rolled upward, compelled by morbid impulse. The figure stood perfectly still, as though he had simply precipitated out of nightmare and into reality. Vegeta’s mouth had fallen open, but it was one of the Chikyuujin who spoke first.
“Freeza!”
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Breaking the Prince (Part 2)