Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dimensions of You ❯ Chapter 13 ( Chapter 13 )

Frieza stared out at the landscape that was wholly Namek with his hands clasped behind him, levitated up in order to see what would soon be his domain. It looked like a pastoral scene out of a science-fiction movie, yet the cruel smile that curved on the purple lizard’s face told of plans on making this heaven a nightmare. The sliding of the door behind him made the smile disappear. He really hated being interrupted.

“My Lord, mission complete.”

The voice restored the cruel smile and the lizard turned with arms outspread in welcome. “Why, Saryl! I certainly didn’t expect you to be back this soon!” He noticed the blue-haired beauty slung over the dark-haired Saiyan’s—no, he wasn’t Saiyan, shoulder and leered. The woman’s position gave him a perfect view of one of her assets.

“Did you have any problems?” Frieza pried his leer off of Bulma to meet Saryl’s eyes. Dropping Bulma to the ground, Saryl went on one knee before his Lord, although he did not break eye contact. He always liked to stare the person he was talking to right in the eye. If not for Saryl’s unflinching loyalty, Frieza would have found this disconcerting.

“Yes, there was a Saiyan there named Kakarott, although he deserves his human name of Goku. He had some potential but decided to be a rebel. The Ginyu Force is eliminating him as we speak. Gurd died. Ginyu had to resort to body-transfer to subdue Princess Bulma.”

The cool statement of the facts made Frieza sneer. He had truly done a good job with this one. Completely his. There was no way this one would ever betray him. He had no will to do so. He flicked a hand for Saryl to rise and the king did so. “And the Ginyu Force will meet us here.” Frieza finished for him. He glanced at the still unconscious Bulma. “She’s not too injured?”

Saryl shared Frieza’s glance. “No. She should be wakening in a while.” He cocked his head to the side as he studied his unconscious sister. "Do you think she'll be a problem?"

Behind him, Frieza smiled secretly. "No. No problem at all, my son."

Saryl turned back to Frieza, noting the leer he was giving Bulma. His attitude was that the Princess would serve Lord Frieza however she could. Frieza did need an heir. “What is the next task, My Lord?”

Frieza raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think there is a next task, Saryl?”

Saryl echoed his master by raising his own brow. “You have not attained your immortality, Lord. And the universe is not under your command. Until those things have been accomplished, there is always a task.”

Frieza nodded his head. “Truly you are deserving to be my servant. As you know, this planet has been rumored to have seven magical orbs that, when brought together, can grant any wish. Four of these balls have already been gathered, albeit a bit unwillingly.” Frieza shook his head and turned back to the window.

Outside, the Namek sky stayed as sunny as ever with its three suns. “I tell you, I do believe that these people are as non-understanding as the Saiyans. They cannot grasp the simple fact that I am master; they servant.” He sighed and bowed his head, as if he was suddenly under a great weight. “I fear I had to kill many Namekians to get the dragonballs.”

Saryl daringly laid a hand on his lord’s shoulder. “Master Frieza, allow me to retrieve these dragonballs. The fools on this ship who allowed you to carry such a burden they should have gratefully taken upon themselves will be punished.”

Frieza smiled, though Saryl did not see it. Even if he had, he would have mistook the meaning of it. A few words and he’d had those that spoke against him taken care of. It was always so nice to have a loyal follower. He turned the volume down on his smile before facing Saryl. “My son, you must understand that not everyone is as committed to my cause as you.”

Saryl let his hand fall to his side and glanced back, rewarded by his notice to see that Bulma had levered herself onto her elbows and was watching Frieza with glittering eyes. She could not see Saryl with his position behind Frieza. Her hair shaded most of her face, hiding her expression. He could easily guess that the look was not a good one.

Frieza stepped around Saryl, hiding him more, and turned his head toward Bulma. “Ah, Princess! So nice of you to finally join us! It has been long since I saw you last. You’ve grown into a beautiful lady I see. Very beautiful.”

Bulma pushed herself into a sitting position, aware of how the lizard was gazing at her. Finally standing, she raised a hand and let it fill with ki, reveling in the feeling of the death she held for the monster that had destroyed her people.

Frieza merely grinned at the defiant woman, commanding Saryl to stay unseen with a concealed gesture. He would have fun breaking this one. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Princess. You don’t seem to have noticed the nice collar you have around your throat. It’s called a ki reflector. If you fire that at me, the ki will only ‘reflect’ back at you. I really don’t want the first moments of our sprouting relationship with you in a regeneration tank.”

Bulma snarled at him, still feeling the effects of the ‘body transferring’ with Ginyu, who she hoped was hurting as much as she was. She squinted, clearing the last of her fuzzy sight and slowly lowered her hand to let the ki disperse. Too much had happened too fast, she needed answers first. “Where’s Saryl?”

Her brother came out from behind Frieza at the mention of his name. “Right here, Princess.”

Frieza smiled at the look of agony that crossed the Princess’s face at the formal way she was addressed, at the way her brother seemed not to care for her current position. He knew exactly how to break her now. “Saryl, I charge you with finding the rest of the dragonballs. Use whatever force necessary to do so. There are two Namekian villages that I know of where the dragonballs would be. The last place is, as of yet, unknown. Find all three and bring them back to me.”

Saryl walked around Frieza, standing before him, and bowed low, not lowering his head. “Yes, my Lord. By the end of the day you shall have your immortality. I swear it on my life.”

Frieza laid a hand on Saryl’s head, well aware of the Princess watching. “I know you will do anything in your power to accomplish your task, my son. Know that I will be there if dire trouble arises. I owe you that much.”

Saryl rose as the hand was lifted from his head. “You owe me nothing, Lord. It is I who owe you everything.” With that, Saryl strode out of the room, not even sparring his sister a glance as he left her at the mercy of the lizard.

Bulma continued to stare at Saryl’s departing form long after he had left, his name weakly leaving her lips in a half-denial, half-plead that could not be heard. She couldn’t move after him, still trying to process the apathetic way he had looked and spoken to her.

She whirled her head back around, gaze stabbing into the lizard, who had just turned his attention back to her. He smiled amicably at her and motioned to a seat just behind and to her right. Her eyes flickered toward the chair before snapping back to the purple lizard with all the hate that had accumulated over thirty-three years.

Frieza merely chuckled at Bulma’s defiance and moved past her to take the seat just across from the one he had offered her. “I suppose you want to know about your brother. He is different from when you last saw him, yes?”

He had, by this time, sat down and grinned maliciously at her. “I’m afraid that’s all my fault.” His grin grew as Bulma’s face lit with rage, her eyes a livid color that flashed blue lightening at the smirking lizard.

“Come now, my dear. This is a long story, which you will want to hear despite its length. And since you won’t be leaving or attacking me any time soon, why don’t you sit down?” His tail curled around his body to rub against the chair he was offering her. She could see herself in that chair, the tail rubbing her….

She actually thought about proving him wrong and blasting him where he sat, or at least singeing that disgusting tail.

It was not his words that stopped her, but another’s: ‘It would not be dishonorable to strategize your next move, but it would be foolhardy to recklessly jump into battle…’ She would wait for the right time to attack.

Frieza frowned slightly. He’d anticipated her attacking him. In fact, he had warned her for that exact reason. It seemed because she was so much older than when he’d had Saryl, it would take longer to mold her. When he had his immortality, he wouldn’t have to worry about the time it took to break her.

Bulma took the proffered seat with all the haughty air of her station and race. She even scooted the chair away from the lizard, as if she was debased just being that close to him. Both knew the real reason for the distance.

“There? See? I don’t bite.” As if to contradict his words, his next smile showed his fangs.

Bulma rolled her eyes and tilted her nose into the air, a disdainful tone in manner and voice. “Yes, I see that. Now, if you’d like to actually start the story.”

An eyebrow rose as he felt a twinge of irritation at her manner. Oh, her reaction to this particular story would be priceless. “Yes, I will start:

“As you know, or don’t since you ran away,” he smirked at the growl she couldn’t stop and continued. “I took your brother under my wing when he turned five. Now, I had problems with him at first. He was willful and he had a natural dislike for me. However,” here his smirk widened. “he had, it seemed, a weakness you Saiyans work very hard to correct. His emotions were very plain to read. I easily figured out what he was thinking, when. From there it was not so hard to manipulate him.”

He leaned back further in his chair, his tail lashing out in anticipation. Bulma felt the wind from its passage. “The first thing I did was disillusion him from his heroic sister, who was sure to come back and rescue him and his people from the evil tyrant lizard.” The last was mockingly said for her benefit, and she tensed.

“Then I disillusioned him from his stoic father, who never broke for anyone. Carefully I severed each and every bond until the only one he had to depend on was me.

“The final stroke came two and a half years after you left. There was a troublesome planet called Kuriyami that I decided to rid myself of. I figured I would—how do you say? Kill two monkeys with one trap?” He laughed softly.

Bulma interrupted him with another growl.  “Get to the point, lizard! I tire of this quite quickly.”

Frieza felt another flicker of irritation and allowed it to bubble out in mocking laughter. “Yes, I’m sure the suspense is killing you! But you are right. We don’t have all day. I have plans later on.” His lips curled into a sneer that she found quite revolting, especially considering the unsubtle meaning behind his words.

“Anyways, my beauty.” Bulma grimaced. “I informed the King of my decision to have Saryl purge the planet on his own, allowing Saryl to partake in the little discussion. With all the little seeds I’d already planted, the King’s vehement refusal of Saryl purging it himself merely germinated the lies. I easily overrode the King, manipulating him so that he had to say yes.

“When Saryl left, it was under the belief that I believed that he could do the job and his father did not. He was out to prove me, whom he already considered to be a mentor, right and his father, who he was growing quite jaded toward, wrong.

“All the while I had consorted with the Kuriyamians by telling them that Saryl was coming and this was a test not only for them, but also for him. They were to subdue them with what you wear around your neck and hold him until I came for him. They were obedient in this.

“Saryl was met by them when he arrived, taken down, collared, and held prisoner until my arrival. When I did arrive, I gave them strict orders to clear the premises of his imprisonment. I then pretended that I had come under great danger for him.” He giggled, as a child does when they manage to do wrong with no one the wiser. “You should have seen the look on his face, such utter adoration.” He cocked his head to one side and smirked. “But you have seen that, haven’t you?”

Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and snorted. “Is that the end of the tale? If not, then why have you stopped? Continue, lizard.”

Frieza rolled his eyes. “Such impatience does not befit a princess, Princess.” He wagged a black-talon at her. “If you interrupt again, I’m afraid I’ll have to postpone the rest of my tale till after my entertainment and then you’ll hardly be aware enough to hear it.”

Bulma grunted as a sign that he should continue. She dreaded the words that were coming out of his mouth. Yet at the same time, she needed to know who her brother had become; if he could still be brought back to who he had been; who he should be.

Frieza cleared his throat and continued, the tone of his voice becoming more dramatic. “He stated that he could not allow me to undertake such a dangerous task when he had betrayed my faith in him. He would rather rot in the cell he was in then allow me to come to harm. I pretended to fight such a self-sacrificing notion and then told him that he could redeem himself. I would tell him a little secret, and he could not only escape, but also purge the planet as he was supposed to.

“The young one eagerly agreed, ready to do anything to get back in his master’s good graces. Surely you have heard this little secret, Princess? The ability to control your Oozaru form?”

Bulma sucked in a breath. “But that shouldn’t have been a secret! Saryl was the Crown Prince. The King would have told him that!”

Frieza shook his head. “Not necessarily so. You see, I knew about it, but the King didn’t know I knew. So, he kept the secret from his son, knowing I would get the information from his open personality as easily as plucking a fruit from a tree. In doing so, he basically signed his own death warrant.” Frieza threw back his head and laughed, snapping it back down to smile mirthfully at Bulma. “I’m sorry. He signed his death warrant the moment he signed the treaty with me.”

Bulma growled low in her throat and Frieza visibly waited for the attack. He frowned lightly when it didn’t come. Well, this Saiyan had more control than Saryl. “Anyway, I told him the secret and he promised he would carry out my orders. I had timed the whole purge-capture-rescue so the planet’s one moon would be full. He was to meet me at the ‘hidden’ location of my ship.

“The poor Kuriyamians had no chance as Saryl rampaged their planet. It was a smoking ruin within a matter of hours. There was no one left alive, but Saryl did not know this. When he came back, quite injured from the damage caused from turning Oozaru with the collar still on, though it did break it, I pretended as if I was still in great danger. He thought I was doing him some great service by staying on the planet to wait until he was better before leaving.” He laughed again, finding the growing anger on the Princess’s face pleasing to his senses.

“You—You—”

Frieza grinned mockingly. “And here I thought all that time with those barbarians on that planet would’ve taught you some insults.”

Bulma smirked, stood up, and glared down at Frieza from her advantageous position. “Fine, you overgrown lizard. You want insults?” She then began a tirade of them, all courtesy of Vegeta, which only stopped when Frieza slammed her back into a wall by her neck, knocking over both their chairs.

He smirked in her face as she tried to regain the breath that had been knocked from her. “Why, Princess, please do tell me the names of these people who have taught you such language. I will personally tell my servants to thank them when I send my servants to Hell.”

Bulma did not struggle against the hold; it was uncomfortable, but not tight. Rather, she was thinking on what he had said and what it implied. They were all dead? Goku, Yamcha, Krillin, Dr. and Mrs. Briefs, Gohan, Chichi, Piccolo, Tien and Chaotzu, Oolong, and Master Roshi. Vegeta…. She hid whatever emotion wanted to surface by speaking of him. It was not time for mourning. It was time for planning and revenge.

“It was but one person, and you aren’t worthy to know his name.”

Frieza’s brow went up. “He, hmm? And were you two close?”

Bulma was not a young Saryl, to let her emotions float plainly on the surface. “He was a human. We were as close as a grave is to a child.”

Frieza smirked. “Actually that could be pretty close. I should know.”

Bulma sneered. “That’s probably as close as you can get, huh?”

A punch into her gut had her trying unsuccessfully to double over, but the tongue that ran up her cheek languidly had her flinching back in disgust. She raised both hands to form a ki blast at the lizard’s midsection, heedless of the consequences. Luckily he dropped her from the imprint she had made in the wall, not noticing her tried attack, as he likely would’ve allowed her to finish it.

He kneeled down by her form and ran his talons through her hair, free hand batting aside the punch to his face; blue hair in a Saiyan was a true rarity. “Now, now, dear, let’s not make this harder than it already will be. I don’t know if our species are exactly compatible, but we’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

Bulma threw her head forward, hitting Frieza on his own head, right between his black horns, and causing him to rear back, whether in shock or pain it couldn’t be told.

Frieza snarled at the impetuous female, rising slightly to swing his tail around, cracking the side of her face with it before she could raise her defenses. Frieza descended down on her then. Forget about time; he wanted this female cringing here and now.

As blow after blow struck Bulma, she calmly and carefully took each hit, not showing the pain inflicted and giving the lizard what he obviously wanted. She stored each and every little blow he gave her in a portion inside of her that was already full to the brim with the pain he had dished out to her, her brother, and her people. It was a portion that would make sure she and her people received full retribution for his actions.

He stepped back from her, a considering look on his face as she seemingly resisted his attempts. He could rape her, here and now, but he had a feeling that would do no more than the beating had. “No, this will be much more fun after you are broken.”

Bulma glared up at him. She rose to one knee in defiance of the tyrant, falling back as she tried to stand under bruises and cuts, none serious, that the lizard had given her. She succeeded standing on the second try. “I am never broken!”

Frieza merely chuckled. “We shall see.” He stepped back to the fallen chairs, righting his and pressing a button on the arm of it. He faced toward the window, pointedly ignoring Bulma.

She shifted from foot to foot in her mind, physical body quite still, as she wondered what the button had signified. The answer came in the form of the door opening. A small group of six soldiers entered the room, all bowing before their Lord. A purple-skinned, bald alien with square ears rose as the group’s leader and faced the Lord who had turned at his entrance.

“Kiwi, I want you to make Princess Bulma ‘comfortable’ in her new chambers. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

Kiwi again bowed low. “Yes, master of my life. I know exactly. It shall be done to the exact letter of your magnificent word.”

Frieza snorted at the alien’s flattery and turned away again.

Kiwi boldly approached Bulma, grabbing her arm only to jerk it away again as she snarled at him. Frieza’s voice stopped her from attacking someone she could do damage to. “Princess Bulma, I have you now. You are the stronger. I have no more use for Saryl. I’ll keep him around for his undying loyalty, but if you prove too much of a difficulty, I’ll have to dispose of him.” During the whole threat, he had not turned around.

Bulma stiffened, but complied, though when Kiwi again tried to grab her, she would not let him, only indicated he should lead her, which made his lips press thin. He turned on his heel and stalked from the room, Bulma close on his heels, leaving the lizard to contemplate his immortality.

Bulma sneered at the alien’s back once they were away from the room, the other aliens with him closing around her on all sides. “Did I hear the sound of a vacuum back there?”

Kiwi shot a glare back at her. “No more than what Saryl does, I’m sure.”

“No, he meets Frieza’s eyes when he bows.”

Kiwi’s eyes widened and he tried to stifle the obvious reaction of shock at the previously unknown information, which did not work around someone who had trained herself to look for Vegeta’s emotions. She chuckled.

Kiwi stopped and spun around. “I’d watch what you say. You heard Master Frieza.”

Bulma put on a disdainful air, watching the other aliens’ seeming disinterest in her and Kiwi’s conversation as they too stopped. “Yes, I heard what he said, however I hardly think he will care what I say to one of his servants. Now do as you’re told. You’re wasting my time.”

Kiwi huffed and turned around indignantly. It was then that Bulma attacked, silently thanking Vegeta’s ghost for teaching her what he knew. One arm snaked around the alien’s throat, pulling him into her and another clamped down on his mouth, stifling his shout of surprise. She quickly dragged him into a room just to their left before Kiwi could do more than start struggling. Leaving, the other aliens gaping to try and catch up with her.

All five of the aliens entered at the same time and all five aliens died at the same time as knifes planted into each of them with deadly accuracy. Bulma nodded her satisfaction as Kiwi vainly struggled in her grip. He was so used to using brute strength and ki attacks that Bulma’s assassin-like methods came as an unexpected surprise. Luckily, they had not thought to check on her person for any weapons for they had expected none.

“Why Frieza would ever guard me with such puny weaklings is beyond me.” She whirled Kiwi around, hand shutting off oxygen to his lungs as she grabbed him by the throat so that he again couldn’t alert others with his annoying voice. She twisted her hand and smirked at the feeling and sound of the alien’s neck snapping. His tongue lolled out of his mouth like a dog’s and his eyes were wide and unseeing. Somehow killing six of Frieza’s minions was just—fun.

She looked around, considering her environment before she discarded the body. It hung limply, the head lolling around the hand that still held the broken neck. There was one huge window, much like the one Frieza had been looking out of, that overlooked a portion of Namek Frieza, from his perspective, could not see. It even included a convenient lake.

She couldn’t throw a ki blast at the window, so she’d have to break it with her bare han—She smirked as she again regarded the body she held. No, she didn’t have to bloody her hands.

With a careless heave, she flung the body at the window, wincing at the great crash and quickly exited the ship. She gained the edge of the lake and slipped quietly in, diving in deep just as she felt the ki’s of several of Frieza’s men exiting the ship.

She would’ve chuckled if she didn’t have to hold her breath to keep air bubbles from revealing her position. Frieza could hardly get to Saryl if she got to him first. As to what she would do when she reached him, she wasn’t thinking about that. *   *   *

Vegeta braced himself for the landing, but was still unprepared for it. It felt like it would shake the teeth from his jaw. He rubbed said jaw as he unhooked himself and tried to stand on shaky legs. Sure he flew a lot, but when he was flying he knew exactly how much control he had. The feeling of having absolutely no control over whether he was going to hit the dirt with a giant thud or skid for a few miles was part of the reason he had to lock his knees out.

He checked around the ship but could find nothing that would aid him. However, he had been smart enough to bring his camouflaged shinobi shozoko, and it was this he put on, although he left the facemask off. In this place he figured he wouldn’t have to worry about being recognized.

He didn’t know if he’d landed anywhere close to where this Frieza was and didn’t know if he wanted to. Despite the fact that he was one of the strongest fighters on Earth, this game required stealth and sneakiness, perhaps a little backstabbing. Luckily he had plenty of all three in his artillery.

He stepped out as the door slid open on the pod and cautiously felt around while keeping his own ki as low as possible. He could sense some minor powers scattered around, inhabitants of the planet, as well as one huge collection of powers not far from where he had landed. It was this collection of powers that he concentrated on, trying to feel out each individually. It was not an easy task. All those powers bunched together tended to blend together; bigger powers voided the smaller ones.

Therefore, it was the biggest power that was soon all that Vegeta could sense of the group. His eyes narrowed and he took a few steps forward, as if that alone could help him sense the power. It was huge. Ok, so the same had been said of Saryl, but this one…. It was so much bigger than Saryl it made the non-Saiyan look like Yamcha. That at least produced a chuckle out of Vegeta.

That chuckle quickly turned to a frown as Vegeta felt two prominent ki’s, prominent because they were immediately behind him. He turned and scanned his surroundings. Whoever it was would be showing themselves around an outcropping of rock in just a minute.

Speaking of that particular outcropping….

When one of the soldiers peeked around the corner, it was to the sight of a big impact crater in the ground and nothing else. He turned back to his companion. “Well, it’s not a Namekian.”

The other snorted. “Fine. You go check it out and I’ll cover you.”

The first shrugged, not in the least concerned. If there was anything there, it had such a low ki it could not even be felt. He chuckled and voiced this to his comrade who also chuckled. “Maybe the pod’s got a higher ki than it, eh?”

“Heh, yeah. Maybe.” The horned one turned back around and took a step that took him fully out from behind the outcropping.

“Maybe not.”

Suddenly the horned alien was reeling back, arms cart-wheeling as the owner of the gruff voice hit him squarely in the chest. He heard the wind gush out of his smaller partner as he was shoved clear back into him, both going down in a tangle that Vegeta gladly laughed at.

The one with the spine on his head was the first to rise, as he hadn’t taken the brunt of Vegeta’s hit. The other lay on the ground with one hand on his chest, trying vainly to recover breath he hadn’t realized he’d lost.

“You’re not a Namekian!”

Vegeta folded his arms across his chest and lowered his eyes to look down at himself before smirking at the spined-one. “You don’t say?”

The alien took a step forward and hesitated, looking back at his still gasping companion. “Well, are you going to get up or just lay there all day?”

The other glared. “Yeah…sure…. What’s…your reading…on this guy?” As he breathed out the question, he painfully rose to his feet, wobbling slightly as he gained his equilibrium.

The other smirked and turned back to Vegeta, who was tapping one foot in impatience. “Let’s see.” He tapped the side of his scouter and aimed at Vegeta’s outlined form through the viewer. His eyes widened at the reading and he barked out a laugh that was aimed at his companion. “You let a midget with a power reading of five knock you down?”

The spined one stumbled as he was hit with an elbow to the chest by the horned one. “That hit was not made by a five power level!”

Rubbing his chest and glowering, the spined one turned back to Vegeta. “Well, since my companion seems to be a wuss, I’ll have to take you on.”

Vegeta’s scowl, brought on by having to wait, faded slightly and his eyes took on an interesting glint that only the horned one noticed. “Finally. Let’s see what kind of army this Frieza has.”

Before the horned one could ask what Vegeta had meant by that, the spined one leapt into the fray. Yes, the fight had already started before he joined in. Vegeta had phased out, leaving an afterimage of himself, and reappeared above when the spined one skidded to a stop in confusion after his punch went right through the pseudo-Vegeta.

Before his ally could shout out a warning, the spined one felt the spine on his head, pride of his people, gripped in a vicious hold. He had enough time to shriek in disbelief before he found himself sailing over Vegeta and embedding face-first into the ground. Vegeta continued his momentum, flipping over himself, which lifted the spined alien up and slammed him down, back into the dirt this time.

Vegeta didn’t stop there, much to the spined alien’s demise. He lifted the body up over his head for a third time, this time feet firmly planted onto the ground. Once again, the body made the customary ditch in the earth, dust rising up to settle on the alien’s still body. The body was face up, head prevented from tilting to the same side as his outstretched tongue by the grip still on his spine, dilated pupils staring at the Namekian sky in surprise.

Vegeta looked up from his study of the dead alien and met the other’s eyes. The horned alien was taking tremulous steps back, his stammerings not even coherent as his scouter told him without a doubt that this level five warrior now was a level eighteen thousand, much higher than him.

Vegeta opened his gloved hands, allowing the head to settle with a thud to the ground. He smirked and tilted his head to one side, as a hawk might study a particularly tasty looking rabbit. “Next.”

Before the horned alien could run or tap his scouter to send an SOS, Vegeta was upon him, gloved hand grabbing the scouter right off his ear and crushing it in one hand, releasing the dust of the machine to be carried by a cool breeze. “You really can’t rely on those things, you know. Whoever made them did a poor job.” Vegeta sounded nothing more than as if he was just giving out a friendly piece of information.

“W-wha—Who are you?”

Vegeta frowned and put one hand on his hip, leaning slightly to the side, grace and poise as elegant as that of a prince. “Why must everyone ask that question? All who hear my name tremble where I am from and yet you ignorant fools do not know me?” He shook his head and made a tsk-ing sound, waving back to the dead body. “That is who I am. That is all you need to know.”

The horned one was sweating bullets. He wished he were, at least. He might be able to use them against this foe. “What do you want?” He took two steps backwards.

Vegeta met those steps with two of his own. “Information.” The way he threw the word into the air was haughty enough to satisfy a cat.

“A-and if I give it to you?”

“Quicker death than his, maybe even less painful. That’s about all you can hope for. I want to know about Frieza and any new ‘acquirements’ he may have gained within the last day or so.”

The horned one’s face darkened. “I will not—” He gasped aloud as he was suddenly pulled down to within an inch of Vegeta’s raging face. “Wait! Wait! I do know of one ‘thing’ he ‘acquired’.”

Vegeta smirked and sat the alien down on his feet; making a show of brushing off the armor where he had gripped him. “Go ahead.”

“W-well, Ginyu just came back with someone the Mas—” at Vegeta’s lowering eyebrows, the alien wisely amended. “Frieza has been wanting.”

Vegeta raised a brow. “Who?”

The alien’s eyes suddenly grew crafty. “If I tell you, you must let me go.”

Vegeta shrugged, glancing casually to the side. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll kill you here and now.”

The alien audibly gulped. “Princess Bulma of the now extinct Saiyan race. She was retrieved from the Planet—Hey! You’re from that planet, aren’t you?”

Vegeta put his face in close to the other’s, despite the fact that he was shorter. It helped being able to levitate. “Since when did you start asking the questions? Those power sources, that is Frieza and his army?”

The horned alien involuntarily leaned back. The swim in the water to the pod hadn’t exactly washed all the scent of death that still clung to Vegeta’s body. “Power sources?”

Vegeta sighed irritably and pointed the way the aliens had come. “Frieza is that way?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good.” He patted a thickly mustached cheek; making the alien flinch. “List the most powerful of his army in order.”

“Well, first would be Lord Frieza himself, then King Saryl, Captain Ginyu, and Lieutenant Zarbon. The rest fall down a bit from there. Plus, they aren’t as close to the Ma-ah Frieza.”

“Hmm, and where are you on this ladder of power?”

“Well—” As the alien cocked his head to one side and narrowed an eye in thought, Vegeta grabbed him by both his horns and twisted his head expertly, earning a dull crack in return. The alien dropped to the ground with that same expression on his face, a lot less surprised than his companion. Vegeta did keep his promises after all.

Vegeta once again reached out his senses, searching for one of those promises and coming up with a big, fat nothing. He frowned and took to the shadows, his outspread senses detecting other ‘scouts’ that were closing in on where the power surge from the scuffle; he would never term this slaughter a fight, had occurred.

He would have to get closer to this Frieza to be able to distinguish one ki from another. Either that was doing it or she was unconscious. It would be quite the challenge to circumvent not only the groups circling around, but get into what was sure to be a perimeter guard surrounding ‘the Master’. But Vegeta always had liked challenges.

With that nice little thought reminding him of problems on Earth, Vegeta disappeared into the shadows, slinking past the aliens that inspected the two bodies, who only caught the whiff of death in his passing.

As to whether he was saving Bulma from one trap only to stick her into a different sort of trap; he wasn’t thinking about that. NEXT