Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Two Sides to a Story ❯ Badman Reborn ( Chapter 13 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Two Sides To A Story
Chapter Thirteen


Anger. Rage. Animosity.

Krillin saw all of these emotions churn in the black depths of
Vegeta's eyes, which were only three inches from his own. Adding to the
mix was a growing madness that the small monk had not seen for over
four years. And he hadn't missed it, either. It meant that the crazed
persona of the Saiyan, who had reveled in the pain and devastation
caused during his initial visit on Earth, had returned with a
vengeance.

"Are you prepared to finally die?" Vegeta asked him, his tone was
almost conversational. A smile of pure malevolent intent was on his
face and Krillin had to submerge a tremor of fear. "I promise that it
won't be slow-"

"Vegeta, listen to me- You were injured-"

"No shit!"

"I mean that battle was over four years ago!" Krillin was almost
babbling in his terror. "Things have happened since then, we all have a
truce. You're on the side of the good guys now, you actually have a
fami-"

"You talk too much," Vegeta snarled and rammed his forehead into
the annoying midget's face, effectively silencing him. Slumping in the
Saiyan's grip, Krillin was helpless to prevent being crudely dropkicked
over the edge of the Look-Out.

Without any hesitation, Tien took to the air to catch his friend.
He was buffeted aside by a ki blast that created a blistering gash
across his right shoulder. Gripping the wound and cursing, he barely
avoided several other volleys from the attacking Saiyan. One more
nailed him squarely in the back just as he dropped below the Look-Out's
horizon.

Clenching his teeth together in a fearsome grimace, Piccolo
glared at this new threat, assuming a ready stance of defense. Vegeta
appeared to be deliberately ignoring him as he looked down at his
hands, frowning while he did so. The Namek was pretty sure why. "The
discharges felt different, didn't they?"

Glancing sidelong at him, Vegeta only responded, "A Saiyan grows
stronger after an injury. I should have expected an increase in my
power."

"Surely you can feel the difference, Vegeta. Krillin was telling
the truth; it's been almost five years since you last invaded Earth."

The Saiyan's eyes transformed into twin slits. "Lies," he spat.
"I would have turned this world into a ball of ashes."

Forcing himself to not appear so threatening, Piccolo calmly
shook his head. "It's a very long story. Will you let me tell it to
you?"

"By all means, Namek," Vegeta said cordially and Piccolo actually
thought that he had a chance until the smaller alien started to grin.

Below the Look-Out, Tien barely caught Krillin before they both
impacted into the ground. Sprawled in untidy heaps in the grass, the
pair attempted to shrug off their injuries and focus on the task at
hand. For a moment, there were no words between them, only intelligible
groans. Finally, as he rubbed a huge goose egg where his nose would
have been, Krillin turned to his huge friend and muttered, "We're
doomed."

Tien shot him a dark glance as he painfully shrugged out of his
charred shirt, wincing at the pull on his burns. "You've faced Vegeta
before. Not to mention Frieza and Cell. You're a lot stronger now,
Krillin."

"Yeah, but so is Vegeta!"

Looking at the gold cable that led up to the miniscule Look-Out
far above them, Tien made no comment. He was as aware of the Saiyan's
abilities and their implications, just as Piccolo was; A Super Saiyan
with decades of combat experience and a propensity for cruelty and
violence that they couldn't even fathom. Gokou was dead and that left
only his son as any kind of a defense against the battle that was to
come. Hasn't the boy suffered enough? "Krillin..."

"I know," the small fighter said, getting slowly to his feet.
"I'll go fetch Gohan. Hopefully, Vegeta will come to his senses by
then-"

There was an immense flash of pure white light and the pair
recoiled from its intensity, protectively shielding their vulnerable
eyes. Tien swore that he could actually see the bones of his splayed
fingers behind his closed eyelids from the severe glare. Several
seconds later, there was a deafening roar of an explosion that made the
ground shake and echoed off into the distance like thunder. When they
chanced a glance skywards, a portion of Dende's Look-Out was blown out
and reduced to a blazing ruin.

"I don't think there's much chance of that, Krillin," the fighter
said in a shaky voice. "You better hurry."

Not even wasting a second for a reassuring nod, the little monk
sped off westwards while Tien shot straight up. He passed an indignant
Yajirobi who was leaning over the railing of Korin's Tower and
brandishing one chubby fist as he bawled, "Hey, you guys! Knock it off!
All that brawling made me spill my soup!"

Fortunately, Tien was a blur and the obese samurai never saw the
erect middle finger intended for him. Any moment of levity was lost the
instant the fighter touched down on the charred marble of the once-
immaculate retreat. Vegeta's blast had created a widening furrow that
had obliterated the southern end of the palace and erased the main
platform to a depth of several hundred meters. The entire Look-Out now
had a noticeable lean and Tien had to watch his step as he ran over to
where Dende and Mr. Popo were kneeling beside Piccolo. Half of the
Namek's cape was burnt off and he was gripping his right side where his
arm and shoulder had been ripped off in the blast.

The deadly seriousness of the situation was beginning to hit home
for Tien as he looked around. It was really happening. This time they
hadn't received any warning from someone from the future to make the
necessary preparations for this battle. Vegeta had reverted to the
alien that he loathed more than any other enemy they had ever faced and
they were on their own. "Piccolo, what happened?"

Pushing Dende away with a growl, the huge Namek shuddered with
pain as he growled out, "I thought I was reasoning with him. He waited
until my guard was down and attacked."

"Please, let me heal you," Dende was saying.

"You're resources are still limited from healing Vegeta," Piccolo
told him. He examined Tien for a moment and added, "He needs your help
more than I do."

Before any of them could object, Piccolo released a terrifying
roar and another arm burst from his right side in a fine spray of
emerald fluids. Panting from the effort of rejuvenation, he flexed the
new limb experimentally and then began scanning the night sky. "Vegeta
can't be left alone. We're going to have to find out where he's gone."

"I...can sense him," Tien realized as Dende began healing his
wounds. "Why hasn't he shielded himself from us?"

A rare look of surprise replaced the anger on the Namek's face.
For the first time since the Saiyan had awakened, he felt a small
glimmer of hope. "Because he hasn't yet learned that he can," he said
in a near-whisper.

>>>>>

Sorting through the photographs on his desk, Darren Foster wished
that the life of a Private Investigator was like in the movies or even
on television; car chases, hot babes and never-ending action. The
reality was countless hours spent sitting in a car waiting for someone
to leave his or her hotel room for an incriminating snapshot. That's
what he was doing now, picking the most incriminating photos of a
cheating husband to present to the man's wife tomorrow morning. It
wasn't a glamorous life but at least it paid the bills. His work
providing background checks on Capsule Corporation employees was by
commission and only made up a small part of his business. But it was a
profession that he excelled at.

The front door to his office was securely locked and he certainly
wasn't expecting any visitors at midnight. He jumped about a foot off
of his chair when there was a hard rap of knuckles on the window behind
him. His office was on the twenty-fifth floor of an office building.

Whirling in surprise, he saw a scar-faced man in loose casuals
hovering outside and he immediately slid open the window. "I know you.
You're Yamcha, one of Bulma Briefs acquaintances."

"Uh... have we met?" Yamcha asked awkwardly as he stepped inside.

"Not personally," Darren said, slipping easily back into his
chair. "I've done some checks on you, for Ms. Briefs sake. You're quite
the ladies man."

His face reddening from something other than embarrassment,
Yamcha was beginning to understand how Bulma always seemed to know
about his indiscretions. He had always figured that she had remarkable
women's intuition about matters like that. Little did he know that
she'd had someone tailing his unfaithful ass the entire time. Clearing
his throat, he forced his indignation aside and managed to get out, "I
need a copy of some information that you got for Bulma. It involves
Garth Tucker."

"Does she know you're asking?"

"Uh... no."

"Then I can't release that without her-"

"Listen to me!" Yamcha slammed down both of his hands on the desk
and leaned over the man. "If you've done as thorough a check on me as I
think you have, you know that I'm her close friend and I'd never do
anything to hurt her. I've defended this world through countless
threats, doesn't that count for anything in your book?"

The pair locked eyes for a moment until Darren sighed. "What do
you want to know?"

"That Tucker guy was a soldier. I want to find out where he was
stationed, that's all."

With a reluctant nod, the investigator turned to his computer and
began calling up files for review. Reading the data silently, he
ignored Yamcha's restless fidgeting until he finally spoke up; "I can't
tell you that information-"

Rolling his eyes, Yamcha snapped, "I thought we just talked about
this-"

"-Because his file is encrypted in the Military database under a
top secret jurisdiction," Darren continued. "Wherever he was, all
records are now restricted to all but the highest ranking officers.
Whatever he did, it's nobody's business."

"Damn it," Yamcha muttered under his breath. It was just his
perpetual bad luck that his one hunch would be an empty one. "Is there
any other way to find out what happened to him?"

Leaning back in his chair, the other man stroked his chin as he
became lost in thought. "If I remember correctly, he was in receipt of
a disability pension. If it was something that happened recently, there
might be another place I can look..."

Typing in a few lines of code, the expression on Darren's face
never changed as he zipped past several intimating firewalls. His voice
had an odd smug lilt to it when he finally said; "I've gotten into the
medical database through a backdoor. Apparently, in the first week of
August, Tucker was severely injured and transported to a Veteran's
Hospital in Jacques City."

"How badly injured was he?"

"Nothing specific is listed. Looks like a coma for indeterminate
reasons. It lasted for twenty-two days and after that it was another
nine for recovery before he was released AMA."

Dread began settling into the pit of Yamcha's stomach the more he
listened. He suddenly knew that they were no longer talking about a
luckless human of the name of Tucker. They were discussing Vegeta.
"AMA?"

"Against medical advice. The doctor assigned to his care didn't
want him to leave."

Turning to look out the window, the young fighter chewed briefly
on the inside of his cheek as he absorbed the news. "Who was the
doctor?" he asked curiously.

>>>>>

This pathetic excuse for a planet was going to become one of the
most spectacular pyrotechnic displays in the galaxy. Its destruction
would leave a scar in space that would be visible for a million years,
an eternal testimony of the unrivaled power that the Prince of all
Saiyans could wield. Vegeta would revel in the white-hot fires of a
dying world and bask in the screams of the executed masses of
innocents. It was a pallet of death and destruction to which he was a
master artist that had no equal and it was his greatest talent, his
darkest gift. Yes, earth was a doomed world whose inhabitants were
oblivious of their imminent demise. He was going to make his presence
known soon enough...

But first, he had to go shopping.

His armor had been a write-off at the end of the battle with
Kakarrot and his damnable son. Vegeta was drawing a troubling blank at
what had happened after he had passed out inside of the pod. All he
could think of was that they had prevented his escape and somehow
managed to keep him imprisoned until his horrific wounds had healed. He
should have died without a regeneration chamber to sustain him. Further
perplexing was why the idiot humans would have wasted the resources to
save their future executioner. Even worse, what the hell had they
dressed him in?!

He had always taken particular care of his appearance. Certainly,
he made it a point to never dress in the same uniforms his lowbrow
subordinates, Nappa and Radditz, ever wore. He was a prince, after all,
who possessed a particular sense of style and had an eye for quality.
Despite his small frame, he was never one to go unnoticed either in
casuals or battle uniforms, often choosing color schemes that flattered
his dark coloring or wordlessly communicated his threatening intent. At
the moment, all he was wearing were a pair of ripped, blood-splattered
trousers and it wasn't proper attire for the future conqueror of an
entire world.

Looking for something that resembled some manner of Market
Square, he saw a vast collection of vehicles that were parked in front
of an immense structure. He landed in front of the glass doors and
jumped back when the doors pulled open on their tracks. Almost
immediately, there was a corpulent human advancing on him. "Hey fella,
it's closing time. You can't come in here. Hey!"

Deliberately ignoring him, Vegeta began to walk inside the Mall
when the guard made the mistake of grabbing his shoulder. Pivoting on
his heel, the Saiyan wrenched the offending arm away and shattered it
at the elbow with the heel of his hand. The move was so fast that the
departing shoppers never even noticed that anything had happened until
the man started screaming. By then, Vegeta had disappeared down the
nearest clothing aisle.

The fashions on this world were blinding in their color scheme
and pathetic in their design, Vegeta concluded with growing irritation.
He saw nothing that even remotely resembled armor or protective body
uniforms, just loose-fitting abominations that could never endure even
a mild battle without ripping. Nothing came close to fitting him
either, and that only angered him more. Looking around, he had to
levitate above a rack of socks and was about to plow through the
ceiling to go look elsewhere when his sharp eyes fell on a design on
the far wall. He flew over to it, barely registering the mobilization
of the rest of the mall's security guards (all three of them), and
stared at the design with a puzzled frown on his face. It was quite
simple; three circles, one inside of another and written on the bottom
were two words: Capsule Corp. For some reason, the sight of it bothered
him and a knot of pain settled briefly over his left eye. He rubbed his
temple with a curse and dismissed the ache as a leftover of whatever
crude healing process the humans had forced on him. The sign was over a
selection of clothing that displayed the same logo and this time the
various designs actually caught his critical eye. Yes, these might
actually be worthy.

He removed the stained pants he was wearing and began browsing
through the racks in the nude when he registered movement out of the
corner of his eye. The guards had surrounded him holding cans of pepper
spray in shaking hands. "Don't make any sudden moves. Stay right where
you are!"

"Fuck off. I'm shopping," Vegeta said, throwing a pair of pants
over his shoulder and continuing his search.

The guards exchanged a glance, unanimously decided that they were
dealing with a wacko, and depressed the triggers of their spray cans.
It was the last thing that they ever did. Vegeta materialized behind
the nearest guard, reached up and wrenched the man's head around so
violently that the vertebrae in his neck exploded through the skin. The
man was dead before he hit the ground and by then, so was guard number
two. Vaulting over the first body, the Saiyan released a ki blast the
cut the luckless human in half, propelling the guard's severed torso
into a batch of stunned spectators. Not stopping with his momentum,
Vegeta succeeded in killing the third with a direct kick to the Adam's
apple, causing the man to strangle to death on his own vomit. All in
all, the supposed combat lasted less than ten seconds and, with his
usual smirk, the Saiyan continued his shopping unbothered.

Not long after, Vegeta stood in front of a full-length mirror and
considered his reflection. The Capsule Corp. line of clothing seemed
tailored for his specific size and appeared that it was designed to
last. It wasn't what he was used to wearing but he had to admit that
the look wasn't unappealing. He had chosen loose grey pants with a dark
blue leather jacket over a black tank top. Completing the image were a
pair of comfortable yellow boots. It wasn't his usual color scheme but
for some reason it seemed familiar. That ache settled over his temple
again whenever he started to dwell on the issue and he shut it away for
later. The only thing that really bothered him now was his hair. Never
in his life had it been any other fashion than the flame style that
categorized his royal breeding. It was just one more reason that he was
going to make this world suffer before it burned.

Turning to leave, he stared at the glass again and reached out to
touch the smooth surface. A shiver ran up his spine and for some
reason, he half-expected his image to change shape into something else.
That was ridiculous. Forcing himself to look away, he deliberately
turned his back and returned to where he had entered the building.

By now, the store had been evacuated and there were several
patrol cars arranged around the front of the Mall. The instant he came
into view, there was a flurry of activity and several spotlights
singled him out. An authoritative voice called out on a bullhorn; "Stop
where you are! Turn around and lay facedown on the ground with your
hands behind your head. Do it right now!"

"Idiot humans," Vegeta was almost chuckling as he raised his left
hand. His initial intent had been to blow the vehicles up and save the
policemen for some hands-on practice sparring but several started
firing their pistols. At the sound of gunfire, Vegeta flinched and
over-reacted, releasing a ki blast that instantly transformed the
darkened surroundings into daylight. The parking lot turned into a war
zone before he even knew what had happened. The police hover cars had
been reduced to twisted wrecks of charred metal and the humans had been
vaporized. Not for the first time, the Saiyan looked down at his hand
as if examining a treacherous snake. How could he have gotten so
powerful in so short a time?

Perhaps the babbling midget hadn't been lying after all...
"Krillin was telling the truth; it's been almost five years since you
last invaded Earth," the Namek had said. Was it possible? Had he been
asleep for all of that time?

Or, worse still, had he been awake and forgotten it all?

"Not possible," he grumbled as he crossed his arms. "The Prince
of all Saiyans does not succumb to something as trite as amnesia."

"I'm not so sure about that," commented a female voice from
behind him.

Turning only marginally, Vegeta regarded the newcomer with weary
disdain. Another human, he concluded with the mental equivalence of a
sigh although this one was enough to actually raise his eyebrow as his
examination lingered.

Standing several meters from him, the woman had shoulder length
blond hair and was wearing an attractive ensemble of a stripped sleeved
sweater beneath a tasteful black vest and a denim mini skirt over black
leggings. Android 18 was looking at the damage strewn around her and
turned back to Vegeta, her slanted blue eyes wide with curiosity. She
had witnessed him make some rather remarkable changes before but this
one had to be at the top of the list. Barely recognizing him, she had
thought for an instant that the instigator had been her brother until
she saw him up close. "What happened to you, Vegeta?"

"We've met?" The Saiyan's perpetual smirk widened into a leering
grin. "Well, lucky me..."

Not sure what to make of his demeanor, she stood her ground as he
closed the distance until they were only a foot apart. His eyes crawled
over her, deliberately lingering at her prominent breasts before he
dropped his gaze to her crotch. Pursing his lips, he wetted them with a
suggestive flick of his tongue. "Tell me, have I tasted you yet?"

"Wh-what do you mean-"

He snatched a fistful of her hair and pulled her face in closer.
"All of this action has made me hornier than hell. I think I'm in the
mood for a little dog-fucking. Just turn around and bend over and we
can have some fun. What do you say?"

An indignant blush was rising to her usually pale cheeks. In as
calm a voice as she could manage, she said, "There's only one way that
I like dogs."

"That a fact? In what way?" Vegeta teased.

"Neutered," she said and brought her knee up between his legs as
hard as she possibly could.

>>>>>

Following the elusive tendrils of Vegeta's faint ki, Piccolo and
Tien said little between them as they concentrated on their mission.
All during the flight, the Namek repeatedly tried to consult the
portion of his mind where Kami resided but the ancient alien wasn't
talking. Perhaps he was thinking like Tien at this point; that he
should have left damn well enough alone and let the Saiyan stay dead.
To hell with vague prophesies of the future.

The pair detected the alarming spikes of Vegeta's ki even before
they could hear the wails of sirens in the city they were approaching.
They slowed down and allowed their senses to lead them into the center
of the district where smoke was billowing out of a crater in front of a
shopping mall.

"Do you think Vegeta is still nearby?" Tien ventured.

"!!YOU NAILED ME IN THE FUCKING 'NADS, YOU BLOND BITCH!! I'LL
KILL YOU!!"

"Yes," Piccolo responded, straight-faced.

The pair swiftly descended and regarded the grim sight of
devastation that lay sprawled around them. There was no need to even
make the attempt to search for survivors; this was Vegeta they were
talking about, after all. Piccolo noticed Android 18 first and felt a
tremor of unease worm its way into his gut. "What are you doing here?"
He barked, desperately hoping that the Saiyan hadn't gained an ally.

Tucking her hair behind one ear, the female spared a cool
glance in his direction. "I was keeping an eye on Krillin until Vegeta
attacked the Look-Out. What's going on here?"

"Trunks?" Tien called out, noticing the familiar clothes on the
individual who was doubled-over several meters away.

"That's not Trunks," Piccolo said quickly, recognizing the raven
brows of the man who looked over at them. For some reason, the Saiyan
had adopted the same clothing that his son from the future had worn
during much of his stay. It was a hopeful sign that Vegeta was
remembering snatches of his lost memories. How much more was struggling
to free itself from the damage? The troubled Namek kept a keen eye on
him but didn't interfere.

"Ohh, you- Miserable. Little. Cooze!" Vegeta coughed as he slowly
managed to straighten up. His groin was a blinding ache of throbbing
agony from the blonde's deliberate strike. It reminded him of another
design flaw that this world's pathetic line of clothing failed to
offer; groin shields like his previous armor. He'd been caught off-
guard with a shot to the pills before, but there was something behind
the strength of the woman's blow that suggested that there was more to
her than just a fantastic body. A lot more. "I might have let you live
before. Now all bets are off!"

"What's gotten into you?" 18 yelled at him. The information in
her mental database informed her that a direct blow to the testicles
should have proven completely incapacitating. Aside from stagger Vegeta
for more then a few seconds, all it had succeeded in doing was royally
piss him off. It wasn't a first time that Dr. Gero had provided her
with incorrect information about the Saiyan. As usual, the timing in
this instance was terrible.

"He's lost his memories of the last four years," Piccolo called
out to her. "Be very careful, 18! This isn't a personality of Vegeta's
that you've ever encountered before. He'll try to kill you!"

"Like you haven't tried that before," 18 sniffed.

Vegeta frowned at her. "We've fought?"

"Little man, I kicked your ass!"

The Saiyan adopted that maniacal grin as he crouched down into an
attack posture. "By the time we're done here, I'll be screwing yours,"
he assured her. There was no time for rebuttal from anyone as he
launched himself into the air.

Moving to the side to avoid the tackle, 18 was unprepared for the
Saiyan's outraged advance. Vegeta grabbed firm hold of her legs and the
pair went crashing through the side of the mall, shattering
cinderblocks with the force of their collision. His initial suspicions
that this female was no mere human were confirmed when it was plain
that the impact didn't even rattle her. He lashed out with a blinding
kick that 18 blocked and ducked as her arm swept around and embedded
itself into the wall up to her elbow. Pushing himself from the floor,
he nailed her midriff with both feet and she stumbled backwards into a
greeting card rack, scattering the contents.

"Better pick out a bereavement card now," Vegeta was chuckling.
"You're going to need it!"

Watching his posture for valuable clues, 18 rolled out of the way
of a destructo disk that went slicing over her head and went at him
with both fists glowing. She aimed a double ki blast point blank at his
face and when the smoke cleared, her smug expression dissolved into one
of surprise. Vegeta was unfazed by the attack and still wearing that
infuriating smirk as he regarded her.

"Nice trick. Here's one of mine," he said and spread his arms and
released a blast from either hand. 18 didn't understand the nature of
the attack until both discharges curved around and slammed into her
back, pushing her into his waiting arms. "What do you think of that
one?" He asked, grazing his lips over hers while his hands restlessly
groped her body.

"Bastard!" She hissed and tried to kick him again. This time he
was prepared for it and gave her a backhand that sent her sliding down
the aisle.

"I see that I'm going to have to wear you down a bit," he
remarked as he walked confidently towards her. "Personally, I wouldn't
have it any other way."

18's skin crawled at the cold snicker that followed the
statement. On two different occasions she had witnessed the Saiyan in
battle; once in opposition with her and the other against Cell. She was
used to the never-ending arrogance that categorized his personality but
this was a new side of him that she had never seen. He was actually
having fun! During their first battle, he had been brimming with over-
confidence and obviously inexperienced with his Super Saiyan form. She
had made short work of him then. When he had encountered Cell, there
had been a hint of that taunting side of him as he toyed with the
incomplete android, beating him into humiliating submission. That dark
humor was still there but it possessed an almost child-like glee with
the destruction that he was causing. He seemed very young and very
dangerous.

Piccolo was observing Vegeta as he fought and was drawing the
same conclusions. He and Tien hovered off to the side as Saiyan and
Android threw themselves at one another and began a series of
lightening fast strikes and kicks. Their eyes could barely keep track
of the pace of the frenzied combat. No quarter was spared for the other
as they exchanged blows that were capable of denting steel. 18 managed
to land a kick into Vegeta's side that knocked him off balance and she
took advantage of that lapse in his defense. She pummeled his face and
chest with a dozen blows in the span of less than a second and fired
another ki blast that threw him the length of the mall.

Landing in the children's toy section, a display stand of Pokémon
plush toys broke the Saiyan's fall. Sputtering curses under his breath,
he barely got back to his feet before 18 flew into him again. She was
pressing the advantage of surprise as she worked her way past weakening
defenses, forcing him backwards. As outraged as she should have been
for his crude advances, there was only one thought that entered her
mind-

"Why hasn't he transformed into a Super Saiyan?" Tien spoke up.
He and Piccolo were biding their time, looking for an opportunity to
move in. "He's losing! Why hasn't he made the change?"

Piccolo's olive features betrayed more of that growing hope. "He
doesn't know that he's managed the transformation! At this point in his
memories, it's still all superstition and conjecture." He looked over
at the human and Tien was surprised to see that the alien was actually
smiling. "Vegeta's believes he's still in the same power range that he
was four years ago. The rest of us have all surpassed that level. We
may have a chance after all. If we work together, we can take him down
ourselves!"

It was all that Tien needed to hear. "Right!"

He was losing! Vegeta couldn't believe it even as one small fist
glanced off his forearm and connected with the side of his head while a
dainty shoe impacted against his hip. The Prince of all Saiyans was
getting his ass kicked by a potential piece of tail! With a roar of
anger, he grabbed her leg as she was rounding on him for another kick,
throwing her away as hard as he possibly could.

18 smashed up against the overhead fluorescents and hovered there
for the moment. Breathing heavy, Vegeta didn't understand the reason
for her hesitation until green arms slid up under his armpits and
hoisted him off the ground. "Now Tien!" That three-eyed freak dropped
down in front of him, grinning from ear to ear.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying this part," Tien
remarked and plowed him square in the face with one huge glowing fist.

The Saiyan's world exploded into a kaleidoscope of whirling
stars. Through burning eyes, he saw the huge human winding up for
another blow and started twisting in Piccolo's grip. Holding onto him
was like trying to wrestle with a wildcat and more than once, the Namek
came close to losing his grip. He settled for a chokehold around
Vegeta's neck, tightening as hard as he possibly dared while the
smaller alien thrashed against him, gasping for air. "Calm down,
Vegeta! If you'd just listen to reason, you'd see that all this
fighting is pointless. Just hear us out for one minute!"

Piccolo's words were reduced to incomprehensible nonsense as the
blood boiled in Vegeta's ears. Clawing at the arm around his neck, he
continued his struggles until his air supply was cut off and blackness
began closing in on his vision. There was something very familiar with
this situation; he had endured this type of abuse before. If he could
only just figure out how he had managed to get out of it, he'd be free-

His eyes snapped open and the turmoil around him was replaced by
a barren landscape overshadowed by a pale green sky. There was still
something around his neck, strangling him, but it wasn't an arm. It was
a clammy, naked tail.

"My dear little monkey prince," Frieza purred into his ear. "You
should know better than to defy me."

A thousand blows rained upon his back in the span of seconds. He
could feel his spine shatter to pieces, his internal organs rupture. Oh
yes, there had been a way to escape this chokehold. He even remembered
how he had accomplished the feat...

He had died.

Vegeta slumped in Piccolo's grip at long last and the Namek was
sure that he had finally blacked out. For a few seconds there, he had
almost wormed himself free. Reluctant to release him, he felt for a
pulse along the Saiyan's jawline and found one- rapid and strong. That
wasn't the only thing; his flesh was growing hotter to the touch.

"Uh, Piccolo…" Tien was stepping back as Vegeta's body began
smoldering with glowing tendrils of energy.

Shouting out in pain, Piccolo had no choice but to release his
grip when the Saiyan's power burned him. Vegeta pulled himself to his
knees and wrapped his arms around his head. The fires of growing ki
were shrouding his body and gaining in intensity by the second. "It
can't be true- It can't! He killed me- !!FRIEZA KILLED ME!!"

"Everybody clear out!" Piccolo called to the others.

They didn't even have time to look for an exit when Vegeta threw
his head back and screamed his rage and misery. An explosion of power
radiated outwards that was like nothing any of them had ever
encountered. It obliterated everything inanimate in its path like a
solid wall of destruction and blew out every partition of the huge
building in a soundless manifestation of god-like might. Even the
ceiling was blasted upwards from the force of the display, with pieces
raining down in neighborhoods several kilometers away.

Before unconsciousness claimed him, Piccolo opened his swollen
eyes a crack and saw Vegeta kneeling in the center of the crater he had
created. His short hair was a bright blond and his eyes were actually
glowing a brilliant green with unrivaled power. He was staring at his
hands in amazement and laughing in delight.

It's the beginning of the end, the Namek thought bleakly before
he slumped face-first into the dirt.

>>>>>

Trunks eyes snapped open and he looked up at the ceiling and
started wailing. Roused out of a sound sleep, Bulma realized that she
had fallen asleep in the rocking chair beside the crib and was still
holding the baby in her arms. As she tried to comfort him, she stole a
glance at her watch and could barely believe what she saw. She had been
asleep for over three hours!

Digging urgently into her pant's pocket for her vidphone, she
wanted to call Krillin and find out if there was any news on Vegeta's
condition. It was suspiciously missing and she submerged a frustrated
exhale of breath, sensing her mother's interference. Her back rebelled
when she got to her feet after having slept in such an uncomfortable
position. She tried to put Trunks to bed but he wasn't having any of
it, thrashing with renewed vigor and screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Shush, honey! Shhhhhhh, you'll wake up the entire house," she
tried to sooth him to no avail.

"Daughter?"

Standing in the doorway, her father was looking in on her. Bulma
immediately noticed the expression of dread on his face and the fact
that he was still in his work clothes although it was almost one
o'clock in the morning. Behind him, stood her mother and flanking the
harried blond was Chi Chi, all looking equally distraught.

He died while I was sleeping, Bulma thought incoherently. Vegeta
died and now they're coming to break the news... "D-daddy?" she
whimpered, her blue eyes steadily widening in growing horror. "What's
wrong? Is... it Vegeta?"

At the sound of his name, her mother started weeping which didn't
help the situation. When Dr. Briefs hesitated, Chi Chi stepped inside
and told her, "Vegeta's woken up."

"Oh, thank god! I thought-"

"It's not good news, Bulma," the brunette continued ruefully.
"He's lost his memories of the last four years. His powers are back and
he's determined to destroy the earth. Gohan just left with Krillin to
try and stop him." Her own lips were a pale, rigid line of worry for
her son. She knew what this grim situation meant just as much as Bulma
did. The boy was speeding headlong towards a battle to the death. Very
likely his own. There was little doubt that Chi Chi would have tried to
stop the boy and her present frustration was as plain as her hatred of
Vegeta.

There was no time for lamentations, not now. Adopting an
expression carved out of stone, Bulma straightened her spine and asked,
"Where's Yamcha?"

"Last I heard, he was heading for Jacques City," her father told
him. "He's checking a lead that might reveal what happened to Vegeta
during his disappearance."

"Of all the piss-poor timing," Bulma muttered under her breath.
She needed the fighter's sense of ki to find out where the fighting was
happening. Without it, she had no way of telling where Vegeta and the
others were.

Or was there?

Standing up in his crib, Trunks was flailing his arms between the
bars and howling. Walking over to him, Bulma picked the baby up and
stared directly into his flushed face. "Trunks, listen to me," she said
in a hard voice.

Blinking at the unusual tone, the boy ceased his cries and stared
at her curiously.

"Can you sense Vegeta? Can you feel your father ki, Trunks?"

"Bulma! He's only a little baby!" Her mother scolded.

"A little half-Saiyan baby, you mean," Chi Chi told her, casting
Bulma a questioning look. She knew what the other woman was trying to
do but Trunks was only ten months old. Was he too young to understand?

Directing the intensity of her blue eyes solely on the boy's,
Bulma continued, "Do you know where your father went? Can you tell me
where Vegeta is? Please!"

Trunks' eyes widened in recognition of the Saiyan's name and his
face betrayed a happy grin. Gurgling in excitement, he began waving a
chubby fist northwards. "Vehta! VETA KI!"

"That's my boy," Bulma praised, pulling him in close for a well-
deserved hug while the others looked on in amazement.


>>>>>

Vegeta was screaming again but it had nothing to do with getting
laid or insignificant memories of his death. He was above such petty
concerns now and his howls of accomplishment were the only means he
could communicate his excitement.

His arms were raised skywards as he gathered an enormous ball of
destructive ki and he threw it at the city below him, bathing in the
cinders of incinerated buildings. The bright fires of the Super Saiyan
transformation radiated off of his body in waves and he was drunk on
the power that suffused every single pore of his being. No drug or
beverage could compare with this! It eclipsed everything in his mind;
even sex was no comparison to the sensations involved with wielding
this much raw energy. He was a GOD!

His mad laughter rolled like thunder over the survivors of the
city but they didn't have much time to dwell on it. With a flick of his
fingers, Vegeta slaughtered them in their tracks. Another deadly
barrage erased all signs that this had ever been a city at all. Only a
smoldering crater, two kilometers wide, was testimony that anything had
ever existed there.

Watching the smoke settle with grim satisfaction, Vegeta wasn't
even breathing hard from the effort. In the back of his mind, with
newfound awareness, he could sense pathetic beings rapidly approaching
to try and stop him.

The wicked grin on his face only stretched wider from that
knowledge. "Let them come," he said under his breath.

He crossed his arms and chose to wait, eager to show-off his
incredible might.



------------------------------------------------- ------
If you want to be on the Mailing List, e-mail me at:
darke_angelus@hotmail.com
Or visit my web site at: www.angelfire.com/anime4/darkeside/home.htm
--------------------------- -----------------------------
Chapter Fourteen: Vegeta's reign of terror continues! Who will be the
person to vanquish him? Gohan?... Or a surprising ally?