The war had picked up it's pace quite a bit in the months that had proceeded. Incursions by the red ribbon army had increased from scouting and prodding forces into full on war fleets. It seemed like the calm before the storm had lasted roughly 3 years. It had came sooner than Trunks had told them that it had in his time, but not sooner than Vegeta had expected. Both sides knew the score, both sides knew that the other knew. It had been a race to reach a point in which they were ready. Gero's forces thought they had the upper hand, and had began their incursions. Vegeta had to wonder what had tilted the scales. Had they reached a number of bodies they thought was sufficient? He strongly doubted that. Gero likely had data on the strength they had reached in his time line, and had made a move once he had forces that could dispatch that strength.
The question was, was he stronger than he had been in the future? Was he strong enough to beat that which killed him? The real question was, could he kill Cyborg Cooler? Gero would be confident Cooler would win. By Trunks statement, the mechnenized frost demon had been strong enough to defeat both himself and Gohan in their SSj forms. He was certain they were stronger now, but would they be strong enough? The answers would come in time, but it was time to make their own moves.
His fierce teal gaze locked on to the war fronts, monitoring forces and reports. Their armies were holding their own. Estimates of the strength of Gero's troups was a third higher than what Trunks had predicted, but it was still within Vegeta's estimitations. Just like they couldn't magically train themselves beyond a certain point in a limited time, Gero's couldn't develop his technology faster than a given rate. Across the board, everything was simply at an escalated level of power compared to what it had been.
He watched one particular battle unfold on the reaches of the empire.
...
As there had been a calm before the war started in earnest, there was a calm before this battle. One hundred biological's floated in space, an enriched and condensed oxygen trapped within a ki bubble that they maintained. There was no need for suits, only the natural flow of ki they had practiced until they could maintain it in their sleep. To be drained was to suffocate, to be unconscious was to die. But this was a War, and those things were true statements regardless of the field. Humans, Namakians, red skinned Syrins, blue skinned Hurash... it was a composite alliance force that stood strong against the 40 machines that floated before them.
There was a flicker on the otherside of the battlefield, and all hell broke loose. He quickly crossed his arms across his chest and his aura burst a brilliant red a moment before a kick impacted against it, sending him hurtling back through the lines. A few hands caught his shoulders and steadied him before giving him a push back.
"In one piece Jones?" A gruff voice called out. He shook his head slightly and winced. "Yeah, Bass. Haven't taken a hit that strong since Master Yamcha popped kaioken on me for the first time." His gaze looked out across the battlefield, watching energy blasts light up the night sky like shooting stars. Smoke drifted as they exploded against metal and flesh alike. Scattered debre of a few droids floated from their destruction, blood and corpses were the answer. So much damage in only a few moments. Every human was wreathed in a brilliant red, using numbers to fend off enemies that were their strength or greater.
He was one of the strongest humans alive, boasting a power of two and a half million, able to hold a tenfold almost indefinitely and able to maintain a Kaioken x20 for brief periods of time. Only 500 such humans could boast his rank and strength. Only 52 could claim to be greater, and a first class cyborg could still pick him apart like he was nothing.
One droid bust through the lines and was on him. His aura flared brilliantly as he pushed it to the limits, barely blocking blows and dodging kills shots, having no chance to counter attack. From his side Bass charged in and kicked the machine in the side of the head, sending it spiraling into Asakawa and Michael who simultaneously punched it in the chest and made it stagger, a few pieces of metal flying loose from it's chase. He'd never been so glad to see the green bastard.
Instinct kicked in and he dived forwards, a buzzing energy springing to life across his forarm as he focused his energy. "Kienzan!" It wasn't Krillan's technique exactly, but Tien had taken the basis of it and had taught it to most of his tranees in a form that was practical for assassinations and hand to hand; a blade that sprung to life around your arm. Unlike some thought, there were limits to what it could cut through, but as he proved by slamming his arm through the chest of the droid and slicing upwards through it's primary CPU, twice his strength was no problem as all.
He heard a roar and twisted in time to see Bass's arm ripped off at the shoulder, a solid black droid that almost blended in with the void of space holding the severed appendage. "Shit!" the exclamation escaped his lips even as his com sprung to life. "Elite on the field. Coordinates mark 3-7-12 from my own."
It was instinctive as all within a hundred meters of their location continued their own battles while willing some of their energy away. Behind him, Asha had remained out of the combat for the most part as her comrades protect her. Now her hand was held before her, a brilliant blue ball of energy exploding to life on her open hand. Without a word it was tossed as hard as she could manage. The elite slipped out of the way as it's sensors warned it about the strong power hurtling towards it, but was unprepared as Bass's arm shot back to life. In one swift move he drew a small baton, whom if one bothered to sense would feel Asha's ki infused within it, and deflected the hurtling sphere into the elite, causing an explosion that wiped it out.
Without a word and only exchanged glances, the squad dived back into the battle.
...
A buzz of the door brought his attention back from the multifaceted display and numerical reports, and quizzical raising of his eyebrows coming across his features. Who would dare intrude into his command center without authorization? For that matter, there were only a few people that had clearence...
A moment later a three year aged Gohan crossed the threshold. Vegeta took in his appearance quickly, finding it quite curious. A thin silver circlet sat across his forhead, hair spilling around it though trimmed to just above his neck. He wore Saiya-jin armor beneath that, though a black model rather than the standard blue with a single cauldron and gauntlet on his right side while his left arm and leg were obscured by a black almost velvet cloak with silver trim. "Well. Look what the cat drug in. You been going native, brat?"
Gohan chuckled as he moved forwards, dropping to a knee before Vegeta. "My Lord. I've returned from my journeys."
Vegeta scowled. "That's all well and good, but what the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be defending Zaula's station."
Gohan shrugged. "I had Trunk's take over the defense termporarily while I slipped out to come here. He's free to move as he wants, so I figured he's free to sit idle for a few weeks."
Vegeta thought about it and nodded. "Very well. What was so important that you came here in person?"
Gohan looked up at his king and smirked. "Well. Lord. I thought I'd drop in and see how your training had come along. We both know myself and Trunks are the only true opponents you're going to find. Were you expecting me?"
Vegeta was dumbfounded for a second before realizing what the brat was talking about. "No. I maintain my transformation at all times. It's best for the troops to behold me as the God I am, and for myself to be protected from any cowardly sneak attacks."
Gohan nodded. It made quite a bit of sense to him.
"After you, brat." Vegeta said, gesturing to the training room.
...
Gohan and Vegeta were both panting heavily, Vegeta's teal eyes staring into Gohan's black ones. Burns, scrapes and bruises covered both of them, but through it all it seamed that Vegeta was in slightly worse shape than Gohan was.
"How...how strong have you become, Brat?" Vegeta managed between breaths.
Gohan smirked calmly. "You always knew I'd surpass you one of these days, Vegeta. It seemed that day has come."
"I expected it to come on an even playing feild! How have you surpassed the legendary without even transforming into it yourself?!" Vegeta growled and launched himself forwards in a right hook, which Gohan twisted and parried while backhanding the prince away.
Vegeta drilled into the wall denting it, before stumbling forwards a few steps and glaring at Gohan. "Well. Don't keep me waiting. Transform and end this with your full power, brat."
Gohan shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid I'd be far weaker than you if I transformed, Vegeta. Your Super Saiya-jin strength is extremely impressive. I didn't even realize that you could train it to such an extent."
Vegeta was confused, but took the stoke to his ego as expected. "Well of course. I am the King, after all. But that doesn't explain your comment. How would you be weaker?"
Gohan smiled softly. "One of the races that I encountered in my travels were masters of Ki control. They weren't very strong, but the could tell how much power was sleeping inside me, could see the power tied to my rage. They taught me to let go of my rage, to let go of my grief. To take control of the full extent of the power sleeping inside me and make it my own without reliance on my emotions. I've grown, Vegeta."
Vegeta blinked. "So you've gained access to your dormant powers. I always knew they were powerful but this is exceptional. It doesn't explain why you're weaker as a Super Saiya-jin."
A sad look came to Gohan's features. "Super Saiya-jin is a transformation of anger and tension. It's strictly incompatible with what I've learned. Now that I know it could be trained, I suppose I could increase it's strength, but so long as it remains an emotion driven ability I could never mix the two. It's one or the other."
Vegeta hit the kill switch and motions to the door. "Well. It seems we've both gained a measure of the other. Do you know how Trunks stands?"
Gohan shook his head. "No. I didn't meet with him at the base. I had intended to spar with him once I had returned.'
Vegeta nodded. "Very well. You've served me well, young knight, by growing so strong. Return to your base, test my son, and then send him to me so I may do the same. If what I've been observing of the battles is accurate to Gero's forces, we've managed to outpace his creations. Victory is a certainty, it a ways off."
Gohan didn't respond, but knew that it was foolish to believe that so soon. There was much time before they came to that point, and much could happen between now and then. He left without voicing his concerns.
Vegeta, for his part, remained in the chamber for a long time, in a great deal of thought. Gohan had become stronger than him, but independent of the Legendary. His words has struck him, though. Because of the time Vegeta had remained in the transformation, it had become second nature to him. He lived in it, ate in it, slept in it. There was no strain or rage assosiated with it. If Gohan trained his Super Saiya-jin state the same way, he very well could mix the two and become unstoppable.
Vegeta shook his head as he decided against it. The brat had been gone for so long, he wasn't sure where his control stood. So long as he was only a little stronger he was certain he remained loyal, but if he was so much stronger as to make Vegeta nothing but a fly to himself? He didn't have that much faith in his control. For now, he would keep what he knew of the transformation to himself.