Vegeta was back at the old docking station. A new layer of paint adorned the bulkheads; a slightly darker shade of purple than before. Frieza probably had the whites redone as well. Everything was bright and shiny and new; pristine whites with purples to set it off. It looked very tasteful, especially with the gold highlights. Like the docking arms that gleamed in the starlight as they reached for Vegeta's pod. Golden claws, on a sarcophagus of a ship pretending to be a jewel floating amongst the stars.
All these details Vegeta noticed, but filed them away as neutral observations. Or perhaps his eyes simply saw the truth now that he was aware of the danger lurking inside. It was good that any nostalgic or pleasant feelings associated with this place had been stamped out and replaced by fear, fueled by a sense of self-preservation. Vegeta should never have called this place home, and there was no sense of homecoming. There could be no warm feelings now, when the inevitability of return was shoved in their faces. Nor had there been before, really, when the universe had seemed endless and beckoning. No matter what a certain lizard said.
He didn't get time for further musing, because when all the pods were secured and atmosphere returned to his surroundings, Vegeta's pod was violently wrenched open. A pale green face on a giant body of toned muscle stared down at him. Zarbon's usually calm eyes bulged, his pristine appearance soiled by disheveled hair and a rather apparent tick that made his upper lip quiver rhythmically.
Vegeta, though shocked at the elite's appearance, made his gaze as vacant one might expect from a half-wit monkey. Taken in, Zarbon spat the words down at him in condemnation: "About bloody time. Where's Guldo?"
"Who?" Vegeta asked innocently, still blinking up with a clueless expression. It was a bet, really. A bet that A: Guldo had died in that canyon —not very likely. or B: Guldo would never admit being outsmarted by a pack of monkeys led by a teenager. Option B was, given the Ginyu's reputation, very likely. Vegeta would bet his life that is what happened. Colds, he was betting all their lives on it.
What Vegeta had forgotten to bet on, however, was Zarbon's complete lack of patience. A Big hand reached into the pod and dragged him out by the hair, as the long-braided creature sneered down on him. "Ginyu Squad. Four-eyed midget? I sent him to pick you up." The last question was accented by an angry shake.
"Ouch!" Vegeta grabbed the elite's arm, more annoyed than in actual pain. Sill, he had a tactic here: defuse, distract, and deny any involvement; that was his plan. Fighting back; starting trouble before he had a chance to cement his story would ruin his chances. "Haven't seen him. Put me down. You're tearing my hair out."
Zarbon grunted, "why bother asking a lying monkey? Never mind." The tall alien span Vegeta aroundmid-air and carried him off. Five strides later, Vegeta had to suppress a real wince, for Zarbon had spotted his tail and and grabbed hold of it., Interest laced through his malicious tone as Zarbon ran it through his hands. "What's this?"
Vegeta groaned. His poor, aching tail. Why did everyone have it in for his tail these days? He'd rebandaged twice on the way, and decided he didn't need a third because he'd been relieved to find stubble growing out. Yet it still hurt when Zarbon started to swing Vegeta around by it. His pride hurt more though. "It was an accident. Put me down. Or go back to grabbing my hair. That was better." Infinitely better.
"Oh, it looks cute." Zarbon grinned, and its whole demeanor relaxed as fingers played with the plume at the end. Perhaps it was just an illusion, but the short stubble on the rest of his tail made the end look longer; it fluffed out like a brush,; like a lion's tail. Zarbon's grip relaxed and he nearly sang, Vegeta's embarrassment somehow the answer to its prayers. "Hilarious!"
Zarbon had continued out in the halls by now, and it was obvious where they were headed. When Vegeta noticed a nervous Raditz following at a distance, probably with his entire squad in tow, Vegeta waved them off. His men would be more hindrance than help in meeting with the Ice-lord. There were some other things he wanted in order before he met Frieza though. "Don't I need to go to decontamination first?"
Oddly enough, Zarbon winced, but kept going. The long-limbed creature blocked Vegeta's struggles with one hand while the other kept the Saiyan at arm's length by the tail. "At this point, I doubt Master Frieza will notice your.. lack of hygiene."
"Well, fuck your opinion..." Vegeta didn't continue because they had reached the throne room, and he could hear the Ice-jin shouting. It was a long time ago that Vegeta last heard Frieza shout, and it brought back a lot of unpleasant memories. Of the day Frieza had come to him, covered with his father's blood. Of that little smack; the only time Frieza had ever hit him, a smack that landed him straight into the healing tanks..
In his mind, it became even more important to look his best; anything to put off this meeting until after the lizard had blown off steam. Any act of docility was abandoned and Vegeta struggled in earnest, yet Zarbon already had him in a hold and in a close-combat fight Vegeta would have been at a disadvantage in size even if he hadn't already lost his options. Unrelenting arms carried him in without a chance to escape. Right into this epicenter of destruction. Right to a fuming Frieza.. Vegeta didn't understand Zarbon; did the elite have no sense of self-preservation? Didn't Zarbon understand that it'd also be in the line of fire when that ire was turned on a stinking, grime-covered Saiyan in busted old armor?
"You useless nincompoop," Frieza's usually light voice screeched, causing Vegeta to go limp. "You can't even hold up three in the air at once. Here. Try harder." Friza swiped one hand, and the giant pink mound on its knees whimpered as something metallic clattered to the ground. Vegeta did a double take before he realized it was Dodoria. Two jagged-edged knives gleamed on the ground, both covered with purple blood. Two more blades protruded from Dodoria's flesh. But the rough-skinned creature was covered in cuts and putrid purple blood. Soft tendrils of smoke rose up from the blood, the stench joining a cocktail of smells in the room that made Vegeta want to gag.
Frieza still had his back to the door, and so was still unaware of his new visitors. Yet, the Ice-jin's small silhouette conveyed barely veiled rage, that trusty glass of wine held in a twitching hand as he loomed over the pink giant, despite his diminutive size. "You'd think you could at least learn to juggle. How stupid are you? And why, pray tell, are you interrupting me, ZARBON?!"
The misleadingly small figure whirled. Red eyes in his horned head gleamed with an unnatural light, and Zarbon took half a step back. Then he seemed to remember himself and thrust Vegeta forward by his tail, like some talisman. "Master Frieza," the cowardly creature managed with a small voice, "look, I found him!"
Frieza took another step forward, but then paused and put one hand behind his back in a visible attempt to calm himself. "So I see, Zarbon." Frieza held his glass up to the light in contemplation, the contents all but spilled, and took a measured sip. "I suppose I'll have to retract my previous statement. You are not worse at fetching than the average dog. You're about the same; perhaps a little slower."
Vegeta could hear Zarbon bob his head in happy agreement, ornaments dangling, willing to take even half-hearted praise. In a thinly veiled attempt to turn his master's ire on someone else, the green-haired elite grabbed Vegeta's tail at both ends and stretched it out for Frieza to inspect. "Yes, well, how was I to know the monkey was at the hairdressers the whole time?"
Dangling from one hand, feet only inches from the ground, Vegeta took a swipe at the Elite bastard's face, his attack accompanied with what he hoped passed for an indignant yelp. Sadly, he just didn't have the reach, and the Saiyan prince found himself swinging upside-down again. His angry kicks only connected with Zarbon's arm, to which he got zero reaction. Given little alternative, Vegeta settled down after a few angry, huffed breaths.
"Zarbon." Vegeta had not expected an ally, yet Frieza's voice held a suavely-covered indignation akin to the rage the Saiyan felt. "Kindly put Prince Vegeta back on his feet, so we can properly greet each other."
As soon as Vegeta's feet touched the ground he tore his tail from Zarbon's grip with more force than needed, ignoring the pain from the sensitive stubbled skin. With a last warning glare at the elite, he wrapped his tail around his torso and stuffed the long-haired ending in like a belt-buckle. Vegeta knew his face was burning by now, but with the most dignity he could muster, he went down on one knee.
When he finally dared to look up at the tyrant, that pink face was uncomfortably close. Arms wide, Frieza stepped forward and confided, "This is exactly what I've been saying, Zarbon. Without our Vegeta here, nothing fun ever happens."
Vegeta nearly flinched when a vice-like grip wrapped around the back of his neck and he was pulled towards the Ice-jin so that Frieza's cheek touched his, almost tenderly. With a long sigh, Frieza whispered in his ear: "oh, I've missed you so, little monkey!"
Frieza's cold breath, so sweet-sour. drowned out all other smells, including the Saiyan's own. Which was quite a feat: Vegeta hadn't properly cleaned himself since long before leaving that dust-ball of a planet and Guldo behind in a mad rush. All that time after, Vegeta had been in his pod, dead to the world, for months. With the dirt and germs from his last purge all over his armor and in his hair. And now Frieza was touching him; touching filth, and Frieza hated dirt. He tried to force down his quickening pulse; tried not to breathe too deeply. Play dead. The more reasonable part of his brain offered. Play dead. Play dead.
It worked, once his more analytical brain faculties kicked back in and assessed the situation. Frieza was not choking him. That was good, right? And yet, the alarm bells in his head would not stop. What was going on? He took a much needed breath. Frieza's arms were wrapped around him, their heads touched. The ice-jin's cold chest raised against him with a sigh.
Frieza was hugging him. It was, by far, the most terrifying experience of his life. Not even the Ygoh - a creature that considered shooting its young into its opponents and having them eat you from the inside an honorable battle tactic - had instilled this much horror in the Saiyan prince. Still, he held still and didn't dare breathe until the Ice-jin sighed again and released him.
One clawed hand lingered a moment on his shoulder, and Vegeta couldn't help but notice that even on his knees he was nearly at eye-level with the purple lizard. Well, at least I am finally taller than the monster. Vegeta managed a weak smirk.
"I missed you so much." Frieza gestured theatrically. "By the ice planet, I miss all you monkeys! It's been terribly boring without you here. Terrah-bly boring."
Vegeta nodded, his brain finally kicked into high gear.. "Sir?"
Frieza nodded again, refilled his glass, and mumbled about celebrating."They are all cowards and ass-kissers here. They tried to poison me once, but that was so very long ago. Well, those who are left don't dare to try anything now."
So that was it? The tyrant was poisoned, like Vegeta had been? That made sense. If someone like Dandelion had wanted to kill the Prince of Saiyans, well surely the entire galaxy was lining up for a shot at the galaxy's worst. Still...
"What kind of poison would work against an Ice-jin?" Vegeta tried to keep the sudden interest from his voice.
"It didn't. Ffff-ah! So boring! That's what I like about you. You backstabbing lill bastard," Frieza grinned at Vegeta and flicked the Saiyan on his nose, before he stepped back to wag a finger at Vegeta. The goblet in the other hand sloshed out the last of its contents, once again drained.
Vegeta panicked. "Lord Frieza," he bowed low, nose nearly to his bent knee. "I assure you I have done nothing…"
"Oh. oh-ho! It's fine. I'm not even angry anymore. But I am a little upset about you keeping me waiting. And waiting. And waiting..." Again the lizard gestured with zest, and Vegeta was focussed on Frieza enough that he almost missed the giant pink mountain inching towards the door.
Cowardly bastards! Vegeta suddenly realised Zarbon had used him to give his friend, Dodoria, a chance to get away. Zarbon had thrown him to the wolves as a distraction. No, Frieza was more like a double-headed sandworm, snapping heads at both ends. Tail-head: angry, baleful death. Head end: smothering deadly affection.
Yet when Frieza happily pulled Vegeta to his feet and steered him towards a sitting area, the Saiyan reasoned that he knew how to manage the more affectionate head. And Frieza did sound.. Happy. "Come, let;s just relax, for old times; sake. I was just remembering that time on Axiot. It;s named Frieza Three now. Remember that place? Hah, I found a survivor from that purge, and he wet himself at the mention of your name!"
That's right. Vegeta should count himself lucky. Because he apparently still held favor. Although Vegeta didn't remember any of what the tyrant was talking about. "Right. When was this?"
"Only 25 standard years past, Vegeta! Where's your memory?" Frieza gave him another unnerving smile, set him down on a couch, and perched on the other end to refill his glass from one of the tumblers on a table. "Good times, Vegeta. Good times."
Vegeta swallowed. If Frieza wasn't poisoned, he had to be drunk. Really drunk. Was Frieza really confusing Vegeta with his father? Pointing out this story had happened ten years prior to Vegeta's birth did not seem like a good idea. Vegeta cast around for anyone to help, but Zarbon too had made his escape, and guards or servants must have either done the same, or had been reduced to one of the smoking little heaps of dust in the corners of Frieza's throne room.
"Do you remember, you even turned on my men as well that time? Oh, it was so funny! They ran and ran, and I had a great time sifting through the populace to find my little soldiers." Frieza winked happily, filled a second glass and held it out for him.
"Oh, right." Vegeta thankfully accepted his own glass of wine. "Sorry about that."
"Hm." Frieza agreed. Then stilled. "But it gets less funny when you attack my elites. Guldo is an important asset, and outranks you. When he comes with an order, I expect you to obey."
Vegeta's spirits sank. Frieza might be drunk, but it was still well informed. "Ah."
"Oh, don't worry about it. Zarbon sicked that pup on you, not me. And as he didn't see fit to inform me; your secret's safe with me. How did you outsmart Guldo? He's got quite the unique skill set, you know." Frieza stretched his clawed feet in front of him, obviously pleased. The tyrant's tail snapped between them once then stretched behind as the Ice-jin pulled up a leg and got comfortable in the pillows.
Of course Frieza was pleased, Vegeta realised pulling his own tail closer. He'd gotten what he wanted: Vegeta back on his ship. And while Zarbon had thought to keep sending Guldo after him a secret so he could take the credit, Frieza had learned the truth. Outsmarting his own man did usually brighten Frieza's mood.
How had Frieza found out, though? Did Frieza have his own intelligence network, or had he simply pieced together what had happened from snippets here and there? Either way, Vegeta knew he should tread carefully, so he focussed attention on the strange new Ginyu member instead of his own transgressions. "I noticed those powers. How do they work anyway?"
Frieza tisked, ignored the question and sipped his wine. "You monkeys never cease to amaze me. Guldo is fine, by the way. But word of advice, Vegeta. Don't kill my soldiers, or at least not with anyone finding out. Daddy makes me kill the naughty monkeys. Kill them, or X them. You don't want to be a naughty monkey, do you..?"
"Yes sir." Vegeta nervously gulped down his own drink and nearly spat it out when the bitter taste hit him. Saiyan and Ice-jin pallets apparently didn't mix; Nappa's drink had at least grown on Vegeta, but he was pretty sure he'd never enjoy this goop. But, if Frieza drank it, it had to be high-quality, so he didn't dare spit it out. Lucky for him, Frieza was too drunk to notice his guest's reluctance. "Ah, I did miss our talks Vegeta. You monkeys always liven up this dead place. Even if it's usually with manslaughter."
Now was the time, Vegeta realized, where he could push for more favor. But it would be dangerous. . "Well if you miss us so much..," Vegeta toyed with the glass in his hands, weighing his words. "How about I leave one or two Saiyans with you next sojourn?"
"Oh? That sounds like a great plan." Frieza nearly bounced in place, tail lashing the couch's side rest in pleasure. "You can stay with me, and just oversee your monkeys from a distance. It's not like purging is rocket science. You just kill things. Seriously!"
"No." Vegeta nearly reeled. He had to change Frieza's mind, because if his team went out on a purge alone they were dead. Vegeta just wanted to keep Jack out of a pod for a few months and hope that was good enough to fix him up.. "No, I'm going. I just want to leave one or two of my men here for a while." Vegeta blinked, feigning innocence. "With you?"
"And those that you mean to leave behind, are they deficient?" Frieza's red-eyed stare fixed him, good humor suddenly gone and all serious business. "I can have them replaced, you know. Just say the word. A Crock with a shooter is just as effective, and a lot less bother."
Replace? "- No that's fine.. They are fine. I work with Saiyans."
Frieza snorted. "Well, I'm not having any Saiyan filth running around my ship unsupervised. They stink, they shed.. And they can never stop breaking my property."
His face must have betrayed him, because Frieza crooned in sympathy. "Oh, don't worry, Vegeta You're different. Clean, composed. Equipped with a brain..."
A brain that froze in a panic when Frieza reached out and ruffled his hair. Then, functioning stopped completely when Frieza pulled his hand back, and stared at the grime left on his fingers. Yet the monster just snorted and wiped his hand on Vegeta's armor, then sat back to gulp more wine.
"But tell you what, have dinner with me. Tell me some nice stories, and I'll forget all about that little accident with that exploding planet as a special bonus. I'm sure given enough time, you can get your work back on schedule, am I right?"
The cruel edge was back to Frieza's smile, and for the first time Vegeta realised that that might be wholly impossible.
