Chapter 4: Preparations

AN: Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? I… honestly have no excuses. Anyway, I don't plan to take six months for the next chapter, but don't expect a fast or consistent update schedule. My muse is fickle and this is somewhat low on my list of priorities.

"Hey. Hey, wake up!"

Bulma shifted in her sleep, mumbling incoherently and swatting in the vague direction of that annoying voice, but didn't move from whatever she was lying on. A sharp jab to her butt promptly caused her eyes to shoot open, taking in Oolong standing next to her, a hunk of steel plate held in front of him.

"C'mon, I thought you were in a hurry," the pig grumbled, pulling back the large serving fork he'd used to poke her. "It's almost ten in the morning."

"Wait, what?" Bulma exclaimed, immediately shooting awake and upright. "Why did you let me sleep that long?!"

"Well, you said you had a breakthrough last night," Oolong replied, pointing at something in her right hand. "Then you built a death ray." Bulma glanced down at the pistol-like device in her hand, with three metal prongs jutting out the firing end. "Then you conked out on your workbench. And then, when I tried to wake you up earlier this morning, you kept pointing it at me!"

"I remember building it," Bulma hedged, casting a skeptical glance Oolong's way as he dropped the steel plate. "But you're saying I threatened you with it?"

"You totally did," Oolong grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh," Bulma sighed, standing up and shifting her gaze. "Well, at least I didn't…"

She trailed off at the sight of the large hole in the wall of her lab, a hole that stretched through dozens more buildings for miles. She had a suspicion that if West City wasn't built on a flat plain there would have been a mountain with a neat hole in it somewhere in the distance. The next glance she sent at the death ray had more than a little fear in it.

"I did that?!" she exclaimed.

"You totally did!" Oolong replied.

Gingerly, Bulma set it down, and glanced out at the damage again. "Hmm…" she mused. "Do you think this would actually hurt any of King Cold's troops?"

"Why're you asking me?" Oolong wondered. "But considering what Goku's told me, it looks kinda like the effects of the Makkaka- Mankaka- that spiral energy beam thingy Piccolo used on Raditz."

Bulma nodded, her mind going back to the aftermath of that fight. There had been a hole in one of the nearby mountains, hadn't there?

"Well, at least it'll kill foot soldiers, then," she decided, stroking her chin as she thought of additional possible technical challenges. "Probably going to need a targeting system of some sort, and something to help aim it…"

A notepad and a worn pencil were pulled from where they'd been shoved aside, the inventor starting to scribble out ideas on it.

"Well, there's food downstairs for when you need it," Oolong said, shrugging and leaving the lab. "Oh, and Chiaotzu and Krillin are coming by soon for their weekly training with Yamcha in the gravity chamber. Just in case you wanted to say hi."

All he got in return was a noncommittal grunt, Bulma completely engrossed in her work.

"Suit yourself," he said, before leaving entirely.

~o~

"- And controlling it's not easy," Krillin said as he and Chiaotzu landed on the lawn of Capsule Corporation. Well, he landed. Chiaotzu kept on floating beside him as he walked towards the buildings. "And after I spent so much time just figuring out how to generate the stuff. Still, I'm making progress, at least. How's your training going?"

"I've figured out the telepathy half," the small jiangshi replied. "And I think I've got my telekinetic control down, but I'd like to test that first."

"Well, that's what these sessions are for," Krillin said as he swung open the door to the main Capsule Corp. building. The sight that greeted them, though, stopped them short.

Oolong looked up from the sandwich he'd been coating in mayonnaise, looking confused. "What?"

"... That's a ham sandwich," Chiaotzu pointed out.

"Yeah, your point?" the humanoid pig said as he closed up the sandwich and grabbed a plate. "You humans eat monkeys all the time. Same difference."

"Well, not all the time…" Krillin muttered as Oolong wandered off, before shaking his head and resolving to forget the entire experience. "Okay, let's just get to the gravity chamber."

"Say hi to Yamcha for me while you're at it!" Oolong called back as he walked away, sandwich in hand.

Chiaotzu and Krillin exchanged worried glances at that. They hadn't seen anything, of course, but gossip travels, especially in a family-owned corporation like Capsule Corp. Bulma and Yamcha were in one of their rough patches again, naturally, but hearing it from the Capsule Corp employees, the ex-bandit was training like a man possessed, just shy of obsessive, something he'd never done. That suggested something a little more than one of their usual kerfuffles, but under the circumstances it was something to worry about after the ultra-powerful galactic tyrant was defeated.

With that in mind, the two small fighters opened the door to the gravity chamber, fifty times Earth gravity settling on them like a heavy blanket. And like every other time they had visited, Yamcha was already there, covered in sweat. Today he was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back to them, clearly meditating, and the walls and floor were decorated by deep, clean gouges.

"Hey, Krillin, Chiaotzu," he said, not even turning around.

"Hey, Yamcha," Krillin replied, eyeing the gouges in the walls and floor. "You've been… busy."

"Yeah, new move. I've almost got it down," Yamcha said, standing up and turning to face them. "So. What's the plan for today?"

"Krillin and I talked it over on the way here, and we thought two-on-one sparring would be best," Chiaotzu said, holding up his hands. "I need to work on using my psychic powers in a fight, and I think we could all use a little practice fighting multiple opponents."

Yamcha nodded, grabbing a water bottle from where it was sitting on the console. "Sounds good," he said, taking a swig before starting up his stretches. Near the entrance, Krillin was doing the same, while Chiaotzu, with his decidedly less physical fighting style, merely floated in place, watching.

"Alright," Krillin announced after a few minutes, standing and sliding into a stance. "Ready!"

Yamcha wordlessly did the same, Chiaotzu merely floating up a bit higher. For a second, no one moved.

And then Krillin surged into a low side kick, Yamcha soaring up with a high hook cocked back. Chiaotzu flipped in midair, threading between the blows and slamming light telekinetic blows into the limbs, knocking them both off-balance. Despite the shoves, both fighters quickly adjusted, Krillin using the momentum to flow into an upward spinning kick and Yamcha flipping in mid-air and moving back to land. The incoming heel skittered off of Chiaotzu's hand, another telekinetic push reversing his opponent's momentum and sending him flipping back to land himself.

Even as one opponent was temporarily out of the fight, Yamcha made his presence known with a charging knee strike from behind. Chiaotzu immediately ducked under the attack, bounding off the floor to get some distance.

The fight came to another pause as Yamcha and Krillin bunched together again, Chiaotzu content to sit back and let them come to him. The two exchanged glances, and then held up their hands, ki gathering into a flat, razor-edged disk and a small ball.

"Kienzan!"

"Sokidan!"

Both projectiles zoomed at Chiaotzu, attempting to box him in. Unfortunately, the ball was faster than the disk, allowing the psychic to slip through the resulting gap. He continued to evade at high speed as the ball zoomed after him, without any input from Yamcha, even as Krillin guided his own attack in. And, of course, with Yamcha not needed to guide his Sokidan…

"Ha!" Chiaotzu barked, thrusting his hands out and freezing Yamcha in place, stopping his charge dead in its tracks. The small fighter immediately flipped over the still-frozen Yamcha, forcing Krillin to send his Kienzan flying in another direction.

The Sokidan, being autonomous, had no such direction.

"Aw, cra-" Yamcha began before the ki ball slammed into his gut and knocked the wind out of him.

"Are you okay, Yamcha?!" Chiaotzu shouted as he released his telekinetic hold, letting the other man slump to the ground.

"'M fine…" Yamcha groaned.

"I think we need better self-destruct options if we're going to be throwing around guided attacks like that," Krillin remarked as he walked up to them, his Kienzan still spinning over his palm. "Anyway, a self-guiding Sokidan? That's pretty cool. And Chiaotzu, I'd say you've got that fine control down."

"Yeah, it's more energy-efficient than just wrapping someone up and complements hand-to-hand nicely," the jiangshi replied, a grin spreading over his face. "And I can pick up thoughts in combat, now, too! Not many, but..."

"Oh, so that's how you knew my Kienzan was guided!" Krillin realized as he finally managed to dispel the disk. "I was wondering how you-"

"Hey."

Krillin and Chiaotzu turned to Yamcha and flinched in unison. There was a fire blazing in his eyes, a fire the two of them had seen before. It was a look they'd seen in Goku's eyes, and Piccolo's, and Tenshinhan's. It was a drive, a desire to become as strong as possible and damn the consequences.

"If you two are quite done," the ex-bandit continued, irritation leaking into his voice. "Let's get back to it. I'll be the single this time."

Chiaotzu and Krillin readied themselves as two Sokidans sprang to life in Yamcha's hands. And then they attacked, Krillin readying a punch and his new partner following behind.

~o~

"Are you ready?" Tenshinhan asked.

Gohan, not trusting his voice, nodded.

A nod back, and Tenshinhan crossed his arms over his body before releasing, his form splitting in two. Each body repeated the action, splitting them again and leaving four identical Tenshinhans standing on the forest floor. As one, they moved, surrounding Gohan and raining blows down on him.

The young boy quickly lost himself in the flow of attack and counterattack, his every sense, physical or otherwise, straining to keep track of the four Tenshinhans. They were slower to begin with, even before dividing their speed between them, but their teamwork was utterly perfect. Unsurprising, considering they were still technically the same person. Not for the first time, he thanked Piccolo for quite literally pounding the ability to track ki in battle into him.

In the end, though, it was only a matter of time before a blow slipped through, an elbow strike that bounced off his skull to no effect other than a minor jolt.

"Fifty-eight seconds," Piccolo intoned from where he was seated corss-legged against a nearby tree. "Again."

Tenshinhan sprang into action again, Gohan blocking and evading. Duck the jab, push down the kick, deflect another punch with a spinning kick. Once again, he was quickly lost in the flow of battle; all that mattered were the opponents around him, and not once did he lose track of them.

'Now!' he decided after a few moments, rearing back his fist for a punch-

And then a vice grip clamped down on his wrist, drawing him out of his reverie and up to Piccolo looming over him.

"Better," the Namekian declared. "But you still need work. I shouldn't have been able to sneak up on you like that."

"That zone you get in is useful one-on-one, but it can be distracting when you have multiple opponents," Tenshinhan added, recombining himself back into one body. "Still, you've got good speed and power, and that helps a lot. Unless you're up against someone on par with Captain Ginyu or that Armored Squadron, I don't think they'll be able to take advantage of your inexperience."

Gohan didn't answer, his face downcast and his hands clenched into fists. He still wasn't good enough.

After a moment, Piccolo exhaled and let go of Gohan's hand. "Alright, I think that's enough training against multiple opponents for today," he declared. "Time for something a little more conventional."

Without warning, he threw up his hand and fired off a blast that Gohan only barely dodged, the sphere sailing past before detonating in the air behind him.

"Good," Piccolo said, smirking. With a thought, two more spheres appeared, hovering next to him. "And don't think you're getting out of this, either, Tenshinhan."

"Of course not," the triclops muttered, before frantically throwing himself to the side as another energy ball sailed past him, his third eye tracking it until it exploded. "He do this often?"

"Yup," Gohan replied, gulping as another four spheres sprang to life. "Though this is a new method."

"Fair warning, I'm still working on my control of this technique," Piccolo helpfully informed them. His targets only had enough time to pale before they were dodging as fast they could again.

~o~

Nearly one hundred miles away, Son Goku sat cross-legged in a mountain meadow, employing the meditative techniques Kami had taught him. To defeat King Cold, he'd have to use the Super Saiyan, and it was useless unless he could use it at will.

The hard part wasn't figuring out how to trigger the transformation. All he needed to do was recall the memory of Gohan's ki fading even as he lay helpless at Cooler's feet. But it was a feeling ephemeral; Gohan was alive and safe, and he knew it. And while feeling the rage and despair was easy, from previous sessions he had learned that the Super Saiyan required diving into those feelings - and then pulling back, without undoing the transformation, if he wanted to remain in control of himself. Tricky, especially for someone who didn't like dwelling on negative emotions.

But not impossible.

Breath moved in and out, distractions clearing from Goku's mind, allowing him to see the dark pool that was the anger and despair from before. Mentally, he compared it to coffee. Goku didn't like coffee; it was bitter, burned, and left him feeling like he had to fire off a hundred Kamehamehas just to keep from jittering to pieces.

Anyway, like many times before, Goku dived in and let the darkness flow over him. His fists and brows clenched, and an outside observer would have noticed the golden hair and aura of the Super Saiyan spring to life. Thoughts soared through his head; demands to kill and destroy until nothing threatened him and those he cared about. Goku wrestled with those thoughts, pounding them into submission. The threat was coming, and it would be stopped. But it would be him stopping it, and not his Saiyan rage.

Finally, after a time that could have been seconds or hours, Goku stood. He felt… harder. On the edge of a cliff, the vertigo of the edge tugging at him. But still under control. A grin spread across his face, and he dropped the transformation, only to pull it back up a few seconds later.

"YAHOOOOOOO!" he shouted, soaring into the air, leaving a golden trail behind him. He did a few loop-de-loops, before soaring off into the distance, pushing himself as fast as he could. The mountains around his home fell away, desert, plains, ocean, and ice cap flying by just as fast. Within minutes, he was soaring back to the mountains around his home, the ki of Piccolo, Gohan, and Tenshinhan flaring in his senses.

Goku slowed to a halt above the three fighters, noting the new, smoking clearing behind him, and dropped down, the Super Saiyan still running.

"Dad!" Gohan exclaimed as Goku touched down, running up to his father with a wide grin on his face. "You did it! You did it!"

"Yup, I did!" Goku said cheerfully as Gohan slammed into his legs. Still smiling, he reached down and wiped a smidge of sweat-soaked dirt off of his cheek. "Looks like you've been working hard."

"Yeah, Piccolo's been working on our dodging skills!"

Goku glanced behind him with a flat "I see", and Piccolo knew then and there that he was going to pay for that little exercise later.

Seriously, how did Chi-Chi make that frying pan hurt so much?

"Incredible," Tenshinhan breathed, drawing Piccolo out of his reverie. "He's not even fighting, and he's still in a completely different dimension from us."

"He may be," Piccolo said absently. Goku's power was certainly impressive, but would it be enough?

And then an ocean of ki washed over them, and he knew it wouldn't be enough.

"They're here," he breathed.

~o~

Thousands of miles away in West City, the three fighters in the gravity room were taking a break, chugging down water and, in Yamcha's case, a few salt pills when they felt Goku transform.

"Geez," Krillin muttered. "So glad we have that on our side."

"Yeah," Chiaotzu said as Goku's signature began moving at speed. He glanced down at the water bottle sitting in his hands. "He's so strong now… what can we do that he can't? Do we even matter anymore?"

"I dunno, Chiaotzu," Krillin sighed. "But until I do, I'm going to keep training, just in case."

That drew a nod from the jiangshi. Yamcha remained silent, focused on something else.

And then a lead blanket made of ki washed over them.

"I think they're here," Krillin muttered fearfully.

"Not yet."

Krillin and Chiaotzu both sent questioning looks at Yamcha, even as he stood up and began walking out. "If I remember my astronomy right, they're deep out in the solar system," he said, pausing in the doorway. "I'd say we've got at least a few hours to recover from our training. Use it wisely." And with that, he left.

For a moment, things were silent in the gravity room, until Krillin broke it.

"He and Bulma really need to make up."

~o~

Harkon let a grin stretch across his face as they warped in behind the eighth planet of Earth's system, a rather pretty blue ice giant. Finally. As much as he prized professionalism, he was also a warrior. He craved action, and everything he'd heard about the planet they were about to assault suggested he'd get some.

He quickly schooled the grin as three other screens lit up in front of him. Best not to show such indulgence in front of his fellow generals. They'd have no trouble doing that themselves.

The left screen was occupied by the slimy, tentacled form of Metzalblood. No one was sure what, exactly, he was, only that he was incredibly strong, could regrow the fragile-looking tentacles that made up 80% of his body practically at will, and backed up his ki-based abilities with strong telekinesis. He was also a bloodthirsty monster who liked torturing his victims before killing them.

Harkon had a distinct suspicion he'd killed all of his own species before joining up with King Cold.

In the center was Jaguarl, a large, heavily-built alien with blue skin, a sunken nose, and aqua-blue skin, not to mention a mouth full of razor-edged triangles masquerading as teeth. Clawed hands and a thin tuft of black hair sprouting from the center of his head completed the picture of the fight junky of the Four Generals, and also the most powerful of the four.

'Though battle strength isn't everything,' Harkon mused, suppressing a grin.

On the right and completing the trio of fellow generals was Juxera. The same species as the late Jeice of the Ginyu Force, with the distinctive red skin and mane of white hair, she was the one he respected the most. Like him, she was an utter professional concerned solely with results, though she could fall into a blinding rage when things didn't go as she planned.

"Are we there yet?" Jaguarl immediately demanded. From the groans the other two generals gave, this wasn't the first time he'd asked that question. Probably not even the dozenth.

"Yes, you idiot, we are! Now shut up already before I kill you myself!" Metzalblood snapped.

"Ha! I'd like to see you try, you little octopus!" the other general chortled.

Harkon sighed, and was about to try and assert some sort of control when King Cold swept in, the cape attached to his armor billowing behind him.

"Enough," he stated, that one command stopping the argument in its tracks. "Harkon, are the scans of the planet complete?"

"Yes, your majesty," the General nodded, bringing up the relevant figures via hologram. "Earth is a class B garden world; only its small size prevents it from being class A. It is inhabited by a species known as 'humans'. They are an industrial species, but have little inherent battle strength except for a few outliers."

"And those outliers will be our primary obstacles, I presume?" Juxera confirmed.

"Yes." A tap, and the holographic screen split into five, three showing dense urban cores, one showing massive construction, and the fifth a flat, scorched wasteland. "Intercepted transmissions have identified these as the largest cities on the planet. This one-" One of the images zoomed in, showing a modest mansion that was nonetheless clearly a palace. "Is the seat of Earth's government. The other two intact cities, as well as this one, will be our primary targets."

"Thus beginning the extermination, decapitating the leadership, and drawing out the defenders, all in one fell swoop," Metzalblood summarized, tapping his tentacles together. "Impressive as always, General Harkon."

Harkon nodded, acknowledging the compliment. "General Juxera, General Metzalblood, you will be assaulting the northern metropolis. General Jaguarl and I will take the western. The capital-"

"Is mine," Cold interrupted. "The Super Saiyan will be there. I know it. If possible, take the Namekian alive. If not… well, I'll understand."

Harkon nodded again. "How you make the assaults is up to you. It should take us-"

An alert popped up on his holographic screen, warning of an incoming warp. His fellow Generals were getting it as well, judging from the incessant beeping coming from their screens. He glanced back at his ruler, but Cold simply gave an annoyed scowl and a "get on with it" gesture. With a touch, he muted the conference and pulled up a feed to his bridge.

"I hope this is important," he growled, baring his fangs.

"It is, sir-" was as far as the bridge officer got before a booming laugh cut him off.

"Hello, Cold!"

"Turles," King Cold sneered. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blast you out of the sky for desertion."

The Saiyan merely grinned, lounging on the throne built onto the scrapheap of a ship his men were driving. "Because you've got four ships and three targets, and I have this."

Harkon was distinctly underwhelmed when Turles held up a small seed, but King Cold's eyes widened fractionally.

"The Tree of Might," he stated. "How did you-"

"Let me in on this and I just might tell you."

Cold was silent for a moment before nodding. "Very well. You may join me in the assault on the capital, but under one condition: you must split the fruit of the Tree with me."

"You drive a hard bargain, Cold, you really do," Turles sighed. "Fine, fine. You get half, I get half. Let's just get moving." And with that, the transmission cut out. Almost immediately, the other three generals glanced from Cold to Harkon, and then Juxera jerked her head in King Cold's direction.

The General immediately shook his head, eyes widening slightly. Then Jaguarl glared at him and jerked his arms towards their liege, and Harkon sighed and turned in that direction.

"Your Majesty-" he began.

"You wish to know why I did that, Harkon." It wasn't a question.

"Well… yes."

"Simple: the Tree of Might and the boost it can give our forces is far more valuable than the planet itself," he explained. "I am confident I can handle his inevitable betrayal, and it will give us more of the fruit, as well." And then Cold smiled, a smile that reflected his name. "And besides, he and his band will be serviceable cannon fodder in case more than the Super Saiyan come to defend the capital."

That… actually made sense. And he'd thought of that so quickly? Once again, Harkon felt himself reminded why King Cold was, well, King.

"Now, why don't you unmute the conference and wrap things up?" Cold suggested. "General Jaguarl looks… impatient."

Harkon glanced at the holograms, and indeed, Jaguarl had grabbed his screen and was shaking it and shouting invectives. Given that they were working with intangible holograms instead of physical screens, that was impressive dedication to showing that he was pissed off. Sighing, the General unmuted the call and braced.

"- AND I WILL CONSUME YOUR UNBORN YOUNG AND-!" The blue-skinned alien cut himself off as he realized that the sound was back, and leaned back and gave a light cough. "Anyway, you were saying something before that damned monkey butted in."

"Seven hours," Harkon said, his lips curling up in a bloodthirsty grin. "Seven hours for us to reach the planet and begin deploying. Enjoy."