"Gohan, report to the training quarters in the west wing at once."

He had barely thought about Frieza's offer for ten minutes before Zarbon tapped his scouter to bark orders at him. Given his tone and the location, Gohan didn't suspect it was for anything good. When he reached the room and stepped inside, Zarbon stood arms folded. And he wasn't alone - Gomayn, the yellow thorn in Gohan's side, was standing right next to him with that insufferable smile.

"What's this about?" Gohan asked, shooting a glare at Gomayn.

"Did you accost Gomayn in the mess hall?" Zarbon asked.

"Yes…?" Gohan asked with a scoff. "So what?"

Zarbon snickered at Gohan's casual dismissal. "And you tossed his food too, right? Well, Gohan, soldiers below elite level aren't allowed to squabble with ones from other crews."

While Gomayn's grin widened, Gohan's eyes did the same with bewilderment. It was possibly the dumbest statement he'd ever heard in his life. "Are you serious, Zarbon? There's nothing but 'squabbles' around here."

"We can't keep track of everything," Zarbon replied without an ounce of sincerity in his voice while shrugging. "We take these incidents as they come to us."

"Yeah, Gohan - rules are rules," Gomayn taunted.

Gohan scowled at Zarbon. "I can't tell what would be worse - if you're just making this up." He directed his venom to Gomayn. "Or if it's actually true, and you're the only one pathetic enough to report it."

"It matters not, brat!" Zarbon shouted before he phased in front of Gohan and punched him square in the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him. Gohan crumbled onto his knees, clutching at his chest as he coughed and gasped for air. Giving the boy no chance to collect himself, Zarbon slammed the back of his leg into his head to knock him into the wall.

Zarbon strode to the far corner of the room, where he retrieved a whip. "Since you were victimized by the Saiyan, I'll give you the honor of the first strike."

Gohan restlessly whipped his head up while he reeled on the floor, dread in his eyes as he saw the ravenous grin on Gomayn's face when he retrieved the whip. He couldn't think of a scenario more shameful than this.

The spiky-haired teenager cackled as he repeatedly smacked the whip against his hands, turning to face the addled half-Saiyan. "Hoho, wait 'till Arepa hears about this…"

Like an imperiled wolf, Gohan bore his teeth at Gomayn; it did nothing to stop his arrogant gait. Gomayn reached his arm out wide to ensure he got a good torque, and then slammed it down with all his might. He didn't land the satisfying strike, however; with razor-sharp reflexes, Gohan snatched the whip before it could connect. The stare in his eyes perfectly spelled out to Gomayn the gruesome things he wished to do to him. It was enough to make the yellow-shaded soldier buckle like the coward he truly was.

Unfortunately for Gohan, Zarbon blasted his injured chest and brought him back down to the floor. Indignant from being shown up so effortlessly, Gomayn viciously cracked the whip against Gohan's back not once, but four times in rapid succession until Zarbon had to yank him away.

"Alright, that's enough," Zarbon said, chucking the teenager to the floor. "I believe I said you were allowed one strike."

The humiliation resonated within Gohan far more than the pain against his back. Even as he agonized on the floor, his face sizzled with a fearsome rage. When Zarbon snatched the whip from Gomayn's hands, Gohan looked him directly in his eyes to let him know that he wouldn't back down.

Not that Zarbon was deterred. He rained down on Gohan's back with a force Gomayn couldn't hope to wield, forcing Gohan to bite down on his bottom lip while a boiling hot stinging sensation surged through his body. It forced his head to the floor; he shut his eyes in an effort both to block the pain and speed up the punishment.

Zarbon gleefully smacked the whip against Gohan's back until he felt his point was adequately made. The powerful half-Saiyan had been reduced to a convulsing mess, slamming his fist against the floor out of rage.

"If you want to walk around lording over everyone in your sight, maybe try becoming a captain," Zarbon snickered.

Gohan's eyes shot open. There it was - the method behind the madness.

"Gomayn, drag this boy to a healing tank. I'll be monitoring your scouter, so I'll know if you do anything unscrupulous." Zarbon exited the room.

Choosing to interpret that warning his own way, Gomayn waited until Zarbon's footsteps were out of his earshot and walked over to Gohan. He cocked his leg back to get an extra kick in on his ribs, but the only thing his boot came into contact with was the vice grip of a gloved hand.

With a feral growl, Gohan squeezed Gomayn's foot until he yelped, before tossing him into the wall. He would go to a healing tank on his own volition, regardless of how excruciating it was to even walk. His effort overriding his condition, Gohan stood back up and limped into the hallway.

Gomayn didn't threaten him one bit - of course Arepa had no interest in that idiot. Not that he cared, of course. But under no circumstances would he let that rodent drag him to a healing tank as if he'd bested him in combat and offered him mercy.

When Gohan finally made it inside one of the medical rooms, a diminutive attendant grimaced at him and rushed to open the healing tank. Before stepping inside, Gohan bent down and rested his hand against the tank's outer shell, panting heavily. All of the endless poking and prodding from Frieza's men had long pushed him past its limits; and now Frieza was trying to illustrate that point.

After removing his scouter, he stepped inside and placed the mask against his face himself, closing his eyes to shut the world out while liquid poured around him.

Twenty minutes later, the liquid solution flushed itself into a drain and the door opened back up. When Gohan opened his eyes, he saw the attendant wasn't alone.

"Kiyomi?" Gohan asked as he stepped out of the tank.

The effortlessly elegant Kiyomi ignored the leering attendant and shrugged. "I was passing by and saw you in there. With your work lately, I know there's only one reason you'd be in there."

"Zarbon."

"Yup."

Gohan spun around and angrily whipped his tail before he leaned back against the wall. "I'm so sick of that guy! One day, he won't be smiling when he looks at me." As Kiyomi snickered, Gohan fixated on a crucial question: when that day would come. That brought him back to Frieza's offer and its cost.

Staring at the floor to shield his pensive emotions, Gohan pressed Kiyomi with a relevant issue. "What did Zarbon do to sell your people out, anyway?"

Kiyomi sighed and leaned back against a desk, smiling bitterly. "Zarbon was always kind of a dick, but he was a fine warrior. A prodigy, really, since we were kids. He was part of a task force that used to fight battles all around the galaxy. They did a lot of good, actually."

A bewildered Gohan laughed as he tried to picture the description. It was tough picturing Zarbon do anything in the zip code of "good."

"But I could tell Zarbon was more of a glory kind of guy. He just liked looking cool and used it as a way to score chicks. It worked on me for a little bit, sadly." She and Gohan both laughed. "But one day, they ran into a planet that was being attacked by Frieza and his men. Back then, King Cold was still running the show and Frieza was daddy's little elite."

Kiyomi clenched her fists. "Frieza liked their moxie and offered to spare the crew if they joined forces. Everyone refused...except for Zarbon." Gohan winced as she clenched her teeth and dug her nails into the desk. "He turned coat, helped Frieza's crew take our guys out, and next thing I know a bunch of armored assholes are showing up on our planet to let us know a new boss was in town."

Gohan raised his thumb and pensively chewed at his glove. A tale too familiar for his liking.

"Every time I see that sellout I want to spit on him," Kiyomi growled. "Betraying his crew was bad enough but he had to go and tell him about us just so Frieza would like him more. Sometimes I wonder if I'm any better for going along instead of dying with dignity…"

"Because you still hope it'll be over one day?" Gohan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Sounds about right." Kiyomi lifted herself off the desk and headed for the doorway. "Keep training, and maybe it will be soon."

As she left, Gohan closed his eyes. Training - that was all he really had anymore. And with how frequently they worked, he didn't have time to get much in.

On the other hand, he still had 24 hours to make a decision anchored by his slow progress. If he made better use, then maybe he wouldn't need to become another Zarbon. The sheer comparison paled his face to a shade resembling the snide officer's.

He honed in on Vegeta's Ki, which was simmering outside. As he left the building and flew to the spot, he mulled over Kiyomi's story. The common denominator with both he and Zarbon was a desire for power. But Zarbon seemed content to be a bootlicker. That was not Gohan's path.

Down below, Vegeta stood in front of a mountain, his body glowing. When Gohan floated down to meet him, he turned around.

"Why the hell can't my scouter ever pick you up, boy?" Vegeta asked.

Gohan had never told anyone about his Ki control. He never understood why he didn't divulge such a thing; perhaps he just wanted some advantage over everyone. With as unpredictable as Vegeta was, Gohan never knew if there would come a time where he and the prince could be at odds.

Maybe that time was coming.

"I wanted to spar," Gohan said.

Vegeta turned around, intrigued by Gohan's proposal. The Prince of all Saiyans had always bested Gohan in sparring matches, often violently demonstrating his superiority over him. The battles were but another reminder of the hurdles Gohan had yet to clear. Not only that, but they'd strengthened the respect between the two.

"Hn. Well let's make sure we don't destroy any of these mountains before Frieza starts bitching." Vegeta said with a competitive smirk. He took his scouter off and set it down.

Gohan wasn't sure how to approach the subject of Frieza's offer with Vegeta; he already knew what his answer would be. But in a spar, he could at least hold it off. Gohan assumed a fighting stance that mimicked his father's. Vegeta crouched into his signature stance, raising one hand in front of his head and keeping the other one curled back.

"Let's see where your training's gotten you, kid."

Gohan lunged ahead to attack, but Vegeta leaped to the side and drove that fist he'd kept cocked back into Gohan's stomach. It wasn't to Gohan's surprise, however, and he batted it away as he leapt back; although all that accomplished was giving Vegeta an opening to swing his leg to his skull for a kick. Though that, too, was blocked.

Vegeta leaped back with an approving smirk. "If you could attack as well as you could defend, maybe you'd get somewhere." He crouched down to gather himself as his smirk widened. "Now here's how it's done!"

Of course, Gohan had no problem avoiding the kick that came his way, using his smaller size to slip under Vegeta's legs while he was in the air and pop up behind him. It was then that he landed the first blow, firing a Ki blast that struck Vegeta's back and sent him to the floor.

After shaking himself off, Vegeta stood back up with that grin still on his face. "Always so trigger happy with the energy! No wonder your strikes aren't sharp."

Gohan winced as he dashed forward and swung his fists, trying to prove Vegeta wrong. The Saiyan Prince batted him away and answered in kind with a strike of his own. When Gohan blocked that, the two Saiyans unleashed a flurry of attacks against each other that all collided in stalemates.

Vegeta's assessment of Gohan hadn't been wrong. He was trigger happy with energy. For a reason - it was as Frieza said. He ended missions quickly. How else could he keep himself from putting a face to the people he killed? Blowing them all away kept them from embedding into his mind. A quick death was a faint mercy in Gohan' eyes.

After trying to deliver a debilitating kick, Gohan found himself crashing face-first into the gravel courtesy of Vegeta's elbow. Without giving him a chance to collect himself, Vegeta kicked Gohan in the stomach to launch him into the air.

Vegeta released a storm of blasts that forced Gohan to abruptly halt his ascent and swat them away. With his attention so preoccupied, he allowed Vegeta to soar up and drive his elbow into his jaw. As he reeled from the blow, he was hit on the top of his head by both of Vegeta's fists. Releasing his energy to hold himself in place, Gohan scowled as Vegeta laughed from above him.

"For all of the strength you have, you're still soft," Vegeta taunted. "You better sharpen yourself up."

Not one to be mocked, Gohan sped past Vegeta with a burst of Ki and struck him in the back of his neck. As Vegeta fell, Gohan shot down and kicked him in the ribs for good measure to send him to the ground. After he landed, Vegeta stumbled back up with a laugh.

"Much better," Vegeta said, dusting off his armor. "But you'll need more than that!"

Vegeta vanished out of sight and popped back up right in Gohan's face - but Gohan was ready. He blocked the knee that came his way with his elbow, genuinely catching Vegeta off guard. Taking advantage, Gohan punched Vegeta in the solar plexus, just as Zarbon had done to him earlier, and sent him spiraling into one of the many mountains with a Ki blast. Heeding Vegeta's advisory, Gohan flew behind him before he could crash into the mountain and get them in hot water with Frieza - and then he knocked him down with both fists.

And he didn't let up - because he wasn't soft. He kicked Vegeta while he was still down and blasted him again while he skidded away. It didn't matter if he was too Ki dependent; as far as he was concerned, it made him more efficient. He didn't have to like this - he just had to get things done.

With the tables turned, now it was Vegeta who was left flustered. He blasted off into the highest breathable altitudes; Gohan flew up to meet him moments later. That played right into Vegeta's hands, because with the clouds in his way he'd be blind to his incoming attack. Vegeta fired a blast down at Gohan, but was stunned to find it swatted down. Gohan fired a blast of his own to disperse Vegeta's Ki before it could hit anything important down below.

After Gohan joined Vegeta above the clouds, he froze. Vegeta didn't seem prepared for battle, instead stroking his chin in thought.

"Now I finally get it," Vegeta said. "You can detect someone's power without your scouter, huh?"

"Cat's out the bag, I guess."

"How long have you known how to do this?"

"Since Planet Zuna, really," Gohan replied. "How else could I have survived without a scouter?"

"Unbelievable," Vegeta whispered. "How the hell could I have never figured that out?"

Gohan had expected Vegetea to chide him for keeping it a secret, but instead he'd gotten his astoundment. Over the years, it had perplexed him that somebody as perceptive as Vegeta could never figure it out from the way he went about fights.

"A useful technique to keep to yourself," Vegeta said. "I guess I was wrong to assume you weren't sharp enough; always find a way to keep a leg up."

Gohan chuckled - of course. Of course somebody as strategic as Vegeta wouldn't really be angry about him hiding something useful even from him.

"But how? It doesn't make much sense," Vegeta asked.

"I'm in tune with my Ki. Or energy, like you guys call it," Gohan explained. "When you can get a good grasp of your Ki, not only can you feel other people's - you can control it."

With genuine intrigue in his eyes, Vegeta folded his arms. "Controlling your 'Ki,' huh? There's a lot one could do with that." After lowering his arms and tightening his fists, Vegeta laughed. "The student becomes the teacher, I see."

Vegeta had his way of fighting, and Gohan had his. In a world of brute force, Gohan got by with finesse; his psyche was probably better for it. But he knew he would have to dig deeper if he ever planned on competing with Frieza.

"But if a commoner's son can do it, so can I," Vegeta resolved. He squared his shoulders. "Since we're up in the sky, we can go all out." Gohan did the same.

The two Saiyans flew at each other and met elbow to elbow with a clash that reverberated through the atmosphere. The first strike went to Gohan, as he sent Vegeta backwards with a punch. He burst forward to follow up, but Vegeta leaped out of the way and kicked him in his side with both feet. The hit didn't rattle Gohan, however, and he came right back with an explosive punch to the face. Another punch was blocked, and soon the two Saiyans were locked in another standoff of strikes.

It was Gohan who broke the chain of attacks, hitting Vegeta in the jaw hard enough to draw blood and kicking him in the same spot. After flying back dozens of feet, Vegeta released a burst of energy to stop himself from falling and frantically wiped the blood off of his chin. Gohan stiffened, expecting the proud Prince to flip out at the sight of a wound.

Instead, Vegeta snickered. "Good work. But you're still holding back." Vegeta slowly floated towards Gohan, harboring an intensity in his eyes that contradicted his laughs and praise. "You still hide your power behind your emotions."

Vegeta froze and pointed at his chin. "Come at me with everything you've got, half-breed!"

With a growl, Gohan did just as commanded. Unfortunately, Vegeta didn't even flinch, instead thwarting him with just his energy. When Gohan buckled, Vegeta delivered a knee to his gut that practically rearranged his stomach. To make matters worse, he sent the boy on a hellish crash landing with a vicious strike to his back. Gohan flew through layers of clouds like a comet until he felt Vegeta's gloves yank around his hair. After a few feeble attempts to escape the iron-tight grip, he was thrust forward only a few inches from his Prince's evil smile.

"Where is it, Gohan?! This upsets you, doesn't it?!"

With a callousness that would make Zarbon look like a nanny, Vegeta repeatedly punched Gohan's face until he could feel his own knuckles cracking against it. The sheer force of his blows made Gohan's ears ring sirens in his head while his eyes watered. Soon, Vegeta gave his face a break - and repeatedly slammed his knee into his gut instead.

"I can do this all day unless you do something about it!" Vegeta cackled as he kneeled away. "Do I have to start calling you 'brat' again?!"

With a fierce growl, Gohan grabbed Vegeta's knee with both hands before it could cave his stomach again and slammed his head into his with enough strength to draw his own blood. Vegeta's head flopped back like a bullet hit it, but he kept his grip on Gohan's hair. With a grin, he ignored the blood trickling down into his eye and lowered his head.

"Nice try," Vegeta drawled. "But it's still not enough."

Mercifully, Vegeta let Gohan but go. But a second later, he hit him with a fearsome blast. The half-Saiyan torpedoed all the way back down, but just barely thwarted a crash-landing by swinging his body down and planting his feet hard enough to shake the ground beneath it. With his teeth clenched and his fists squeezed tight, Gohan looked up to the sky with resentment burning in his eyes. As easier as the Saiyans were to be around, they were perhaps the ultimate symbol of his weakness - they punished him and his father for not being strong enough.

Vegeta floated down from the skies with his arms folded. "Now that's how I know you're holding back. A few years ago, that would've taken you out."

Gohan hung his head while Vegeta landed on the ground. Vegeta hissed through his teeth and dusted himself off.

"Of course, a few years ago I would have gone at you worse than that," Vegeta grumbled, to Gohan's puzzlement. "I keep harping on you, but I, too, have been losing my edge. Frieza and his bullshit have dulled it considerably."

Upon hearing that, Gohan closed his eyes and sighed. Now was as good of a time as any to bring it up. "That's actually why I came here."

"Hn?"

Gohan didn't lift his head, finding it easier to say if he didn't have to actually look at Vegeta. "About an hour ago, Frieza made me an offer."

"About what?" Vegeta asked with suspicion.

"To split from you guys and form my own crew." Gohan muttered. "I'd finally get frequent work on my level again."

Gohan didn't hear the reaction from Vegeta he was expecting. In fact, Vegeta simply laughed. "As if that rat's word meant anything."

He wasn't wrong. Over the years, Frieza had given Gohan little reason to trust him. But it was Frieza's uncharacteristic directness that had Gohan thinking differently. He finally looked up to face Vegeta. The Prince's expression was guarded, skeptical.

"I know, but…" Gohan froze and directed his pupils to the right corners of his eyes in search of the right words. "What's left of us here? Frieza's going to keep spinning our wheels as long as he can."

The quiet calm in Vegeta's expression burned away. His eyes alone belittled Gohan. "Don't tell me you're actually considering this, boy."

"I know, but-"

"But what?" Vegeta sharply interrupted, marching a step closer to Gohan. "He's offering better work only if you leave us. Anyone with a brain can see that he's trying to divide us."

"Of course I know that," Gohan said with a scowl. "But we're not gonna get anywhere playing the game as we are now."

"I just offered alternatives earlier and you shot them down."

"And they were dumb alternatives." When Vegeta's eyes flexed in warning, Gohan buckled back. He knew better, but he had to make his point firmly. "Look - all I'd be doing is finding another path to defeating him."

With a sardonic laugh, Vegeta closed his eyes and shook his head, regarding Gohan like a psych patient. "So let's say that Frieza is good on his word and gives you strong planets to conquer. He's just going to kill you even if you make it through without me to hold your hand."

"Excuse me?" Gohan asked with an indignant glare.

"Tell me I'm wrong." Vegeta defiantly narrowed his eyes.

Weary of the disagreement taking an explosive turn, Gohan, too, shook his head. "Vegeta, it wouldn't be any different from what you've been doing for years already."

"And you see where that's gotten me." Gohan conceded his point by lowering his eyes. "But sure, let's say he doesn't just kill you before you're too much of a problem? Why else do you think Frieza would just let you get as strong as you can without me?"

Gohan didn't answer.

"Because he'd turn you into a docile lapdog, like the rest of the bootlickera he keeps around," Vegeta said, swinging his arm back to point towards the miles-away base housing dozens upon dozens of aimless soldiers. "Do you want to be another Zarbon or Dodoria? He'll keep going until you're nothing more than his strongest puppet."

"Instead, Vegeta plucked you away to be the perfect puppet to help relieve him of his decades-long temper tantrum."

Gohan briefly closed his eyes; not to blink, but to fully process his thoughts after being triggered to Frieza's scathing assessment of the man he was arguing with. They opened back up, but only narrowly. Vegeta's face took a quizzical turn.

"As opposed to your puppet?"

"What?"

Vegeta heard the question loud and clear, but he needed to buy a few moments to properly articulate a response.

Gohan wouldn't give him a chance, snarling. "You heard me. What am I doing here? Am I just another Saiyan to help you take care of Frieza and fall in line after?"

Vegeta scowled. So did Gohan.

"Answer me!"

At being ordered, Vegeta's eyes darkened even more than the sky. "I don't have to tell you shit, boy. You ought to watch how you speak to the man to whom you owe your strength. Try doing this alone and see where that gets you."

"I'm only a third your age and I'm stronger than you were when Raditz first dragged me here." Gohan measured his words with a spitefulness that made even the steely Saiyan Prince shudder. "So you tell me how far I can go."

Vegeta had no response, only a growl. Gohan advanced another footstep.

"You know what I really think, Vegeta? You're scared I'll be the one to get Frieza. And then I just might be a bigger problem for you than he ever was."

Vegeta's eyes billowed at Gohan as if he'd grown a second tail. Such an audacious spiel sounded foreign coming from the boy. But whatever shock had overcome him, he soon laughed off.

"You pompous little brat. Grow a few public hairs and think you're hot shit, huh?" Vegeta raised his tightly squeezed fist towards Gohan. "No son of a third-class will ever be a threat to me."

"Are you sure?" Gohan focused his eyes as if they were X-Rays. Vegeta paused, but a single bead of sweat swam his answer down to his chin.

Gohan released years of pent up scorn with just one razor-sharp glare. "If you were so worried about me surpassing you, then maybe you shouldn't have brought me here."

Vegeta blinked, but took a deep breath of realization. "I see. So that's what this is really about. After all these years, you miss still Earth, huh?"

Gohan turned his body slightly and looked away. Vegeta had snatched the magic wand of probing away and effortlessly revealed the layer of angst and regret within him. He shook with resentment.

Vegeta eyed Gohan up and down like he was a repulsive specimen. "Hn. Go ahead, then. Start your hapless crew and end up a speck of dust on some worthless planet when you're too strong for your own good. The honor of Frieza's defeat should go to a full-blooded Saiyan, not some half-breed freak who was never weaned off his worthless human mother's tit."

A microsecond later, Vegeta's deliberately callous message of spite earned him the feeling of every breath leaving his body. Gohan delivered a punch to his gut that broke him to his core, leaving him less a Saiyan Prince and more a writhing baboon coughing on his knees.

The santy and humanity that made Gohan who he was had vacated his eyes. He glowered at Vegeta like he was prey. With even more unholy force, Gohan kicked Vegeta square in the face with the sole of his boot, propelling him into a mountain. But that didn't satiate his righteous anger. Gohan stalked towards him while he sat motionlessly against the remains of the mountain. He raised his palm towards his unconscious face and imbued it with the type of infernal Ki that he couldn't muster under cooler emotions.

The sight of his energy simmering against his palm took Gohan back to that day years prior, when the same man lying before him forced him into a similar position with Mentos. His first kill, a betrayal that spiraled into his premature escape that led him to Planet Zuna.

Where Vegeta had saved his life with a blast much like he was prepared to fire.

"When the chips are down, they're all you got."

Hearing Kiyomi's words from years prior snapped Gohan back to reality. At the end of the day, he was still a Saiyan. He would not start his path as Zarbon had.

He relinquished the energy and slung the still-unconscious Vegeta's arm over his shoulder to hold him up. He flew back to Frieza's base and stepped inside, dragging Vegeta through the halls and into a healing tank after besting him in combat and offering mercy.

After getting him properly set up and turning on the solution, Gohan stared at Vegeta for a long time as he contemplated his impending decision. Frieza and Vegeta agreed on one thing - he still harbored eons of pent up aggression towards the Saiyans for everything they'd thrown him into.

A startled hiss interrupted Gohan's musings. It was Nappa, grimacing at Vegeta as he floated in the healing tank.

"Sheesh, kid, are you trying to take all of us out now?" he asked, jovially. "Raditz was bitching about you flipping out on him, now Vegeta? Hope I ain't next."

"It's nothing. Training got out of hand."

Nappa snickered as he shook his head. "I can't believe it. Vegeta used to be the one leaving you in the tanks." He folded his arms and sat down on the table nearby. "Where the hell does all the time go?"

Gohan stood still, looking back and forth between his two Saiyan seniors.

"I used to be the one dragging this little shit back to healing tanks when we were still training him," Nappa said, smirking at the old memories. "He passes me, now it looks like you're passin' him."

Gohan blinked in shock. No, he couldn't have been stronger, right? It was just a brief flash of rage Vegeta hadn't been prepared for, right?

Nappa scratched his greying beard and sighed. "I've put a lot of friggin' years into this, kid. A lot. At the rate you're going, we might be deadweight by the time you're Vegeta's age. If Frieza doesn't keep holdin' us back, at least. You'll probably be draggin' us geezers around in wheelchairs 'til we croak."

As Nappa looked on at Vegeta, Gohan kept his eyes on the beard that told the tale of his age. He didn't want to be Nappa, left languishing under Frieza's rule for his entire lifetime. Hell, he didn't want to be Vegeta, an embittered man left to swallow his pride at every given moment. Frieza had this mistaken idea that Gohan's humanity would make him easier to manipulate - if he was going to get where he needed to be, maybe it was time to play along as his own man and forge his own path to victory.

He turned around and left the room.

"The boy is too powerful to go to waste. Just hope he makes the right decision."

"I know this. Don't misunderstand; just because you proposed this idea doesn't mean I hadn't given it plenty of thought myself."

"All I'm saying is that the Saiyans are assets. The sooner you see them as weapons and not as threats, the sooner your sector will flourish."

"I assure you, I'll see them as whatever I assess is necessary, Cooler. I can run my empire just fine."

"If you say so, little brother."

"Always a pleasure," Frieza said with a twinge of resentment before turning his scouter off. His older brother was always the nosy, overbearing type, constantly trying to tell him how to run his own empire. Why was it his business how he approached the Saiyans, anyway? He had his own plans with them, and Cooler stood nowhere in the notes.

Before he could brood over his brother any further, the doors of his throne room opened. He didn't need to turn around to know who stepped inside. Instead, he spread his purple lips into a smile while he waited to hear his guest's voice.

"I'll do it."