"You...you people won't be terrorizing the universe forever...I-I guarantee it!"
The bald, grey-skinned man, wearing a white armor plate with a lightning bolt insignia above a black bodysuit, lay battered and broken on the ground, glaring ferociously through his one open eye. His face was a mess of cuts and bruises, on the worse end of an explosive battle. Unfortunately for him, the equally ravaged but still upright, flame-haired warrior didn't believe in mercy. He stood above him, hand raised with a sadistic smirk on his face.
"Well even if that day comes, you won't be alive to see it."
An energy blast escaped his hand, reducing the man to a speck of dust.
With the threat gone, Vegeta allowed himself to collapse on one knee and suck enough air for an entire population's worth of people. He knew the planet Kiyomi had sent him to was a strong one, but he hadn't expected a Galactic Patrolman to show up. The ensuing battle had been brutal, going on for nearly a day until Vegeta came out on top. His new ability to control his power level, or Ki, had come in handy, leaving him with the reserve power he needed to come out on top.
A technique he owed to Gohan, he begrudgingly admitted.
But all of that was irrelevant. He got the fight he had been starved of for years and loved every minute of it. Raditz and Nappa, who were worse for wear themselves, limped over to him with satisfied grins.
"Now that's what I'm talking about, Vegeta!" Nappa said. "Been too long since we've seen you at it!"
Though Raditz had been thrilled about the end result of their unauthorized purge, he was not without worry. "The fact that he was a Galactic Patrol dork could be a problem for us, though."
"No matter," Vegeta replied through a cough. "They probably let all their food go bad, the way they react to the mere mention of Frieza's name. They'll try to catch us on another planet but they won't even broach the atmosphere of any world Frieza occupies. It won't creep up on us."
"Yeah, Vegeta's right," Nappa said. "Now let's just hurry the hell up and get out of here. No time to waste."
Vegeta nodded in agreement and led the flight to their space pods. They stopped once they reached the craters their pods left and floated above them. "You still have those gold coins, right Nappa?" he asked.
"Yup, dropped, 'em off in a bag in my pod while the madness was still going on."
"Good. We're going to Planet Frieza #78 to heal," Vegeta said.
"Ah, good plan," Raditz observed.
Vegeta nodded before floating down to his space pod and sitting inside. After inputting a special instruction, he sat back and let the pod fly to the edge of the planet's atmosphere before it came to a sudden stop. He opened the space pods' door and stood up, standing on top of it as he looked down at the enormous planet down below. In his estimation, he had just enough reserve power to destroy the planet's core and produce a delayed explosion.
He focused a chaotic amount of Ki that radiated around his palm. While it was always a rush knowing he had the power to destroy a planet, he could only think about the day he saw Frieza obliterate one with just his fingertip; meanwhile, Vegeta had to unleash all his power to pull it off.
Nonetheless, he fired an enormous Ki blast down below and sat back down in the pod, closing the door and flying off before it even detonated on the surface. Destroying the planet was the best way to ensure it would never get on Frieza's radar in case of an oversight from Kiyomi. Nobody would suspect anything, anyway - planets were destroyed incidentally all the time. There was a God who literally had it in his job description (though he only showed his face every few decades).
And even his mighty Saiyan race fell to a mere comet.
But that was ancient history. Content with a job well done, Vegeta activated the gas to give himself a much-needed sleep. One interstellar flight later, they arrived on the recovery planet.
When Vegeta got out of his pod and watched the large building before him, he grunted with annoyance. He hadn't been on the planet since after Planet Zuna eight years prior, the ordeal that marked the turning point in Gohan's journey with them. It was another reminder of what he deemed a betrayal.
As soon as Vegeta stepped inside the building, he clicked his scouter and scrolled to a few inputs to jam the signals of all of the nearby scouters. Kiyomi had enhanced his chip with extra range when necessary, which came in handy for situations just like this.
The Saiyans arrived at a medical room with a few healing tanks lined up. A small, slug-like scientist with brown skin and a robe had been attending the room; he blinked in surprise at the Saiyans.
Nappa tossed a lumpy, black bag at the scientist that was just barely caught.
"Tell anybody you saw us here, and I'll make sure you know what your entrails look like before I kill you" Vegeta said, his eyes so fierce with warning that the meek scientist needed to back away. "If that's not reason enough to shut up, I assume the gold in that bag will also ensure your trust?"
"Y-yes, sir."
With an insincere smile, Vegeta nodded. "Much obliged."
After healing up following the return from their assigned mission, Gohan and Arepa sat across from each other in the mess hall, eating the unappetizing steak and vegetables from their trays. They'd spent the remaining few days of their assignment training, Gohan showing Arepa how to control her Ki. They hadn't said much about their almost-kiss, focusing only on power - as it should have been, Gohan concluded.
After clearing his tray, Gohan stood up. "I'm gonna take a smoke."
As he walked away, the object of his perpetual annoyance came into his view - the green skin and spiky, purple hair of Gomayn. The typically smug boy was none too happy to see Gohan, and the feeling was certainly mutual. Gohan turned around when he brushed past him. When Gomayn stopped at his table where Arepa sat, his suspicions were confirmed.
"So that's it, huh?" Gomayn seethed. Arepa hardly even looked up to acknowledge him. "I'm the one who gives you gifts but you partner up with that ass-scratching dolt? I thought you had a brain."
"Nobody told you to get me shit," Arepa said, rolling her eyes as she stood up. "I don't need to explain anything to you."
She turned around to find a place where she could toss her tray, but Gomayn squeezed her by her ponytail. The tray fell from her hands while Gohan growled and slid back to rev himself for an attack. He didn't get a chance to make his move, however - Arepa slammed her elbow into Gomayn's face, getting his hand off of her hair, his back against the wall a few feet away, and his ass on the floor.
Defiantly whipping her hair while dozens of stunned soldiers gawked at her, Arepa strutted to Gomayn and placed her boot on his neck. "Touch me again, and I promise you the only way I won't kill you," she pointed her finger at Gohan, "Is if he beats me to it."
A shiver ran down Gohan's spine as she dug her foot deeper to punctuate her threat. He didn't think it was possible for him to be more attracted to her than he was at that moment; Saiyan blood, probably. More than that, however, it was respect. She marched away from him and looked at Gohan with a scowl.
"Let's train."
"Uh, sure," Gohan replied. Wasn't he the one who gave orders? Nonetheless, he followed her to a room.
After they shut the doors, Gohan stood in the center of the room with his arms folded. Arepa paced back and forth like a lunatic.
"Shit, I wish I coulda killed that douche right then and there," she yelled, mashing her fists together.
"Well, then picture me as him," Gohan offered, a coy smile on his face. Arepa stopped and stared at him, squinting as if that were exactly what she was trying to do. She snapped out of her furious haze to laugh uproariously.
"Yeah sorry, Gohan, but it's hard to picture you like that little prick."
Gohan ran his hands through his hair, and with the aid of spit, raised the top end until it stood up like Gomayn's, even leaving a single bang in front of his face. He pointed his thumb at his chest.
"This help?"
Arepa squared her shoulders and smirked. "Actually, now that you're styled up like that, I've finally realized you two look a lot alike."
Gohan's expression turned 180 degrees. "Take that back."
"Too late...and it's working."
Arepa dove at Gohan, throwing as many punches as she possibly could in the span of a few seconds. None of them connected. Luckily, the gusts of air from her thrusts brought Gohan's hair back to it's normal style so he didn't have to entertain the idea of his and Gomayn's resemblance any further. The fact that he thought more about that and not the assault being unleashed upon him spoke volumes about the ease with which he dodged her.
"You're just swinging wildly," Gohan chided, grabbing her hands to hold her in place. "Where's your technique?!"
Arepa tried to shove her knee into Gohan's chest, but he flung her into a wall before she could. While she hopped off the wall with her feet and dove back at him, Gohan simply moved away from the kick she swung.
"You have the spirit, but not the finesse," Gohan said.
With a few frustrated heaves for air, Arepa shook her head. "Finesse is the last word I'd use for the Saiyans."
"That applies to Nappa, maybe, but definitely not me or Vegeta," Gohan said. "Raditz, too, but he's irrelevant."
Gohan moved a few steps closer to Arepa. "It's the difference between your punches…"
Faster than her eyesight could process, Gohan viciously punched her in the jaw, knocking her into the wall.
"And that. Not a wasted movement to be found."
Arepa spat out a wad of blood and rubbed her pulsing jaw, though she had a crooked grin on her lips. "Okie dokes, I see it a lil' bit. Cool to have a real trainer vs. whatever the hell Cui would do."
She crouched down, gathering herself. "So something like…"
With cat-like quickness, she phased in front of Gohan and connected a punch to his jaw, whipping his head back.
"That?" Her voice boomed with satisfaction.
Effortlessly, Gohan turned his head back around with a smirk on his face, a trickle of blood the only sign of pain. "You still need to put power into it."
"Son of a bitch…" Arepa said, grinding her teeth.
About a half-hour later, Gohan and Arepa both sat against the wall in the training facility, sharing one of Gohan's trusty cigs and blowing smoke. While Gohan was without a scratch, Arepa had a few bruises and cracks in her armor.
"You weren't lying when you said this shit calms you down," Arepa said, passing it back to Gohan. "Ain't even thinkin' 'bout that idiot no more."
"What's his deal, anyway?" Gohan asked, taking a drag. "I know he's not very strong, so what the hell is he even doing around Frieza's army?"
"You don't know?"
Gohan squinted his eyes at Arepa, confused. "What?"
"Frieza has him as a mole in the Galactic Patrol," Arepa explained. "Part-time intern or some shit. Gets some extra eyes on the useful planets lyin' around, plus he steals a buncha the contraband they pick up and gets it here. Gets 'em off the backs of our redshirts, too."
"No wonder he's such a nosy little dork, then."
"And a snitch."
Gohan laughed, having experienced that firsthand. Arepa stood up, something catching her eye while Gohan puffed away at his cig. He thought about how far Arepa could get training with him. She wasn't a Saiyan, so she couldn't make the huge gains from recovery that the Saiyans were prone to, but keeping up with one and taking a few lumps from him was bound to work wonders.
"Hey, check this out."
Gohan looked up, and his eyebrows quizzically folded when saw how Arepa styled her hair. Evidently finding another string lying around, Arepa opted for the double ponytail look, tying her hair up on her left and right sides. He believed they called them "pigtails" back on Earth.
"Pretty cute, eh?" she asked with a goofy smile.
"You look stupid," Gohan snickered.
Rolling her eyes, Arepa undid her hair and went back to the regular ponytail, tossing the other string back down. "Well, whatever. I bet it was cute."
Of course, Gohan lied. If anything, he might have liked that style on her even more than anything else. But that wasn't important, at the end of the day. He stood up and tossed his cig to the ground, stomping on it a few times to put it out. After one last puff of smoke, he led the way out of the training room.
"I'm gonna read for a little bit," he said in the hallway. "Try not to kill Gomayn; that'll be my job."
"Cool. Let's kiss on it."
He could overhear her laughter as he paced away with a beet-red face. Eager to get his mind elsewhere, Gohan slid the library doors open and searched through the shelves for a book on nanotechnology, wondering if there were any more ways to manipulate his scouter. When he reached a specific section he'd been seeking, a familiar face was standing there.
"Hey," Kiyomi said, grabbing a book.
Gohan nodded, peering over to see what she was reading until he noticed a bruise on her right cheek. "What happened there? Chip pop out at you or something?"
Realizing his eyes were tracking to the bruise, Kiyomi rubbed it in and turned away, shaking her head. "No," she began, until she stopped herself. "It's nothing."
Gohan thought to set it aside, until he noticed the growing tension in her features and how quickly she began to move away.
"Who did it?" Gohan asked, his voice darkening.
"It was nobody, just-"
"Zarbon?"
"Yeah, sure."
There wasn't any assurance in the way she spoke, leading Gohan to suspect it wasn't Zarbon. Though it was an absurdly long shot, Gohan decided to throw out a possible answer, the one most likely to make her act so suspiciously.
"Vegeta?"
She hesitated, caught by surprise. That was all the answer Gohan needed. He walked briskly away from the facility, seeking out Vegeta's Ki.
Kiyomi started to chase after him, but realized she was hopeless to either change his mind or stop him. Really, she just wanted to talk to him about his decision.
Gohan could pinpoint Vegeta's Ki, but it was faint. It could have meant he was in recovery, but he honestly didn't care. He'd wait for him to get out if that were the case. His young emotions were hot and demanded addressing.
After a few moments of marching, he found Vegeta alone in the Saiyans' sleeping quarters. He was perfectly fine, and in the middle of fitting his gloves on when Gohan marched in.
"Vegeta!"
"The hell do you want from me, half-breed?" Vegeta's already-sour face immediately intensified upon hearing Gohan's voice.
Attempting to rein in his temper, Gohan inhaled and exhaled. "Look - I get why you're pissed off at me. I probably deserve it - "
"Hn."
"But that's no reason to start taking it out on Kiyomi-"
Vegeta laughed with a mentor's shame to interrupt Gohan, shaking his head. "Look at you, boy. You waste so much energy caring about people. How many times did I tell you where that would get you? How many times have you learned where that would get you?"
Gohan looked away. It didn't matter if he was no longer under Vegeta's wing. He always felt like his rook.
"First Kiyomi because she's nice to you, now you're dragging around that loudmouth because she makes you laugh and stain your trousers. I thought you were finally figuring things out, but I couldn't have been more wrong. Your human half is poison."
In no mood for a scolding he was no longer under any obligation to heed, Gohan began to turn away.
"And for your information, I didn't attack her," Vegeta said. Gohan stopped and turned back around. Mischief overtook Vegeta's countenance. "I may have handled her a little roughly and thrown in some threats, yes, but I didn't hit her."
"What?!" Gohan asked with a repulsed scowl.
Laughing with malice, Vegeta folded his arms. "Not that, you hormonal fool." Though Vegeta had phrased it that way deliberately to mess with his mind. "I'm forging my own path to getting stronger and needed her to do her part in aiding that. In my request I may have shoved her a little harshly. Don't blame me for her fragile skin."
His focus skipping over those last sentences, Gohan puzzlingly raised his eyebrow. "You don't mean what I think you do, Vegeta..."
The Prince dismissively grunted. Gohan stomped his foot out of frustration.
"Are you trying to get us all killed?! I TOLD you how risky that was and you're still doing it?!"
"A true, full-blooded Saiyan fears nothing," Vegeta sneered. "Unlike you, I'm actually taking a chance and doing things my way instead of letting Frieza drag me around on a leash."
"That's rich coming from the guy who's done nothing but be Frieza's slave his entire life."
Vegeta snapped, overcome with righteous fury as he curled his fist back with violent intent. "You dare speak that way to your Prince, boy?"
Gohan stepped forward with fire in his black eyes, but not to fight. "Just admit it. I'm playing the same game you are but making sure I actually see the end of it. If you want to get yourself killed, find somebody else to help you."
Still incensed, but humored, Vegeta relaxed his fist and goadingly snorted. "I don't know what it is with your little mother complex, but it's going to get you killed long before death catches up to me."
It took all of Gohan's discipline to stay firm. He couldn't believe Vegeta would push that button even after knowing where that got him last time. Then again...it was the boldness he had aspired to for years.
"Don't do this."
"And that's the biggest farce of them all," Vegeta said with a dark chuckle. "I could be worse to you than Frieza and you'd probably cry at the thought of killing me. You know damn well who I am."
Gohan broke a sweat. Vegeta was right. It pained him to admit it, but he was still right. Even after being forced away from his home and thrown into the fire of unimaginable trauma to fight Vegeta's battle, he felt loyal to him.
With a psychosis that could put even Frieza's to shame, Vegeta grinned at Gohan with bared teeth and pierced, nay stabbed his obsidian eyes into him.
"What's stopping me from going to Earth and paying your parents a visit now, huh?" All of the color left Gohan's face. "You wouldn't still hesitate to kill me if your home was in danger, would you?"
Gohan knew what Vegeta was doing. The Prince was just as frustrated over their situation as he was. He was sinking as low as possible to get under his skin.
But that was okay, because Gohan could, too. After all, he learned from the best.
"At least I have a fucking home."
He was crashing out the doorway and through the hallway's wall in an instant, thanks to a punch that nearly knocked out a tooth courtesy of Vegeta's fist. And though he'd expected it, Gohan was nonetheless enraged when he got back up and chased after Vegeta. The Prince had been in pursuit himself, but couldn't move out of the way fast enough to dodge the punch that sent him into a doorway and reduced it to a pile of debris.
Every warrior present stumbled away from their duties to rubberneck as the two explosively powerful Saiyans went after each with blistering flurries of strikes all over the base, wrecking any structure that came their way. Every punch, every kick, every swipe was delivered with the express intent to kill the other; collective sense had been replaced with Saiyan instincts.
Arepa was one of the many in the crowd watching, but in contrast to the boisterous, bloodthirsty cheers was her horrified gasp. "Gohan, what the hell are you doing?!"
Kiyomi rushed in next to her. "Son of a bitch, I didn't think it would come to this!"
Dozens of feet away, Nappa and Raditz shared their bewilderment. The attacks became increasingly vicious. Gohan intended to finish Vegeta off with a violent kick, but the more experienced fighter moved out the way and blasted him through the building's roof in one seamless motion. He flew through the hole after him, and much like he'd done during their fateful spar, grabbed the boy by his shaggy mane.
"What are you gonna do now, mongrel?!"
With every bit of the edge he'd lamented losing back then, Vegeta savagely laid into Gohan with punches that spilled blood and cracked bones with every landing. Gohan tried to claw Vegeta's hands off of him but could do nothing; his nose was spilling blood at the speed of a busted pipe, hampering his breathing. At one point, Vegeta punched Gohan's scouter, spilling glass into his eye on top of that. As if he weren't in enough agony, Vegeta slammed his skull into the sharpest point of his knee and kept on punching, until...
"ENOUGH!"
That shrill, raspy siren of a screech was at the same frequency of a record-scratch, frosting the spines of every single soldier in the base - the fuming Vegeta included. He let go of Gohan like he was doused in gasoline, short-of-breath at the mere sound of that voice. Gohan only kept himself in the sky from the punch-drunk idea that falling down may have incited the voice further.
Frieza wasn't sitting in his chair. He was floating above the wreckage of Gohan and Vegeta's squabble, his fists quivering with a furor that was restrained by the tightest of leashes. The red in his eyes was almost volcanic, melting even Vegeta's resolve.
"You pebble-brained simian troglodytes dare ravage my building?!"
Even through literal glassy eyes, Gohan could see that look on Frieza's face as clearly as any macabre painting. Though it had been years since the last time he'd been graced by its presence, it felt like just a day ago. Spit flung from the lizard's mouth as he frantically surveyed the damage done to his precious base.
"Zarbon! Dodoria! Cuff these varmints up until I figure out an appropriate punishment," Frieza ordered as he floated back inside, his head whipping back and forth between the debris and the two Saiyans responsible.
Knowing better than to resist, Gohan and Vegeta both floated down inside the base and stood silently in wait until Zarbon and Dodoria arrived with shackles. The very same Energy-Absorbing Cuffs Kabnet had used to subdue them - one of the many things they pilfered from his army after his defeat. Zarbon and Dodoria applied the shackles to them both and escorted them to separate rooms.
Gohan sat in the corner of the same room he and Arepa had just sat in moments earlier, picking shards of glass from his face. There was nothing more he wanted to do than run back over and tear into Vegeta. He was done trying to please him. Done with looking up to him.
"What the hell's going on?" Kiyomi stood in the doorway, arms folded and a disappointment overwhelming her face.
"It's...it's nothing," Gohan mumbled. "We got in a fight, that's all."
"I'm not just talking about the fight. What's this about you leaving the Saiyans? Did Frieza make you do it?"
"No," Gohan replied, avoiding her scolding face. "He gave me a choice, and I took it. This is the best way for me to get stronger."
"You realize what's going on, right?" Kiyomi said, harshly. "You know this fight is exactly what Frieza wants, right?"
Sick of being treated like a naive child by Vegeta and now Kiyomi, Gohan sneered. "You don't think I know that?! Of course I know Frieza's trying to use me. Whether I'm answering Vegeta or answering to Frieza, nothing's going to change."
"If it was so easy for you to stay who you are, Frieza wouldn't have given you the offer."
"I won't sellout to him."
With a sigh, Kiyomi turned to the hallway. "That's usually how it starts…"
As she walked away, Gohan slammed the back of his head against the wall with the intent to knock himself out. It didn't work.
Zarbon and Dodoria joined Frieza in his throne room. It had been lightly damaged, but far better off than much of the base. The incensed lizard paced back and forth with frantic energy for a half-dozen minutes until he exhaled to compose himself.
"I say we do away with both of those idiots," Dodoria said. "We have plenty of strong folks on other planets to bring around without those guys tearing the place up."
Frieza raised a hand to silence Dodoria. "No, I've got it. I will punish Vegeta for this, and only Vegeta."
"Sir, what…?" Zarbon asked, blinking quizzically.
The flames of his temper having subdued, Frieza smiled. "If they both are punished for brawling, they'd have a common grievance. Nothing breeds jealousy and resentment quite like unequal consequences, don't you think?"
"But sir, don't you think that will just lead to an even more destructive fight in the future?" Zarbon asked.
"They'll fall in line, for now." Frieza's wicked smile spread further. "And if the dam breaks again, by that point I'd bet our half-breed project will be able to handle himself splendidly."
Zarbon and Dodoria gasped with pleased realization, marveling at their lordship's intelligence.
"Bring them both here."
They nodded and walked into the hallway, Zarbon grimacing at the extent of the damage the two Saiyans dealt. The ceiling was decorated with holes spanning from the size of a small ball to a crater. Walls were broken and all sorts of fluids were flooding the floors as crews of redshirts scrambled to clean it up. Repairs were going to be extensive, possibly necessitating a temporary move. He opened the doors of one of the training facilities, where a seething Gohan had sat while rubbing his bloody nose.
"Get up, now."
Gohan didn't say a word, just doing as instructed. His ire was only focused on one person; for once, the aristocratic officer had nothing to do with it.
"Now follow me."
Zarbon led the way down to Frieza's throne room. Gohan had experienced plenty of punishments over the years, but never had he dreaded one this much. Damaging the property that the eccentrically narcissistic Frieza held dearly? Regardless of the favorable position recently bestowed upon him, he suspected a grizzly penance.
Which was why, when Gohan stepped inside and stood next to Vegeta (who avoided looking at him), he was flabbergasted when Zarbon removed his cuffs. He turned to Vegeta, who remained shackled but glared at Dodoria with impatient expectation.
"Oh no, Vegeta, your cuffs stay on," said the icy voice of Frieza across from them.
Both Saiyans' jaws sank in alarm. They looked at each other and then back at Frieza, trying to figure out his angle. While Zarbon and Dodoria giggled like school children, Vegeta growled at Gohan and stepped to Frieza.
"What the hell's the meaning of this?!"
With a finger he only faintly lifted from the hand perched on the edge of his floating chair, Frieza drilled a pink laser into Vegeta's right knee, forcing him to kneel on the opposite leg while he excruciatingly mashed his teeth together. Gohan couldn't help but watch, but he wanted to look away more than anything else.
"Come now, Vegeta, how long have I known you?" Frieza said with that casual drawl that infuriated both Saiyans. "You don't think I know you would be the one to incite a fight if our even-keeled halfling here were involved?"
Knowing what really happened, Gohan shook his head. Sure, Vegeta had played his part in provoking it, but Gohan initiated everything right down to the cold-blooded insult. As he watched Vegeta struggle to remain on even one foot, he started putting the pieces together.
"L-Lord Frieza," Gohan said, trying not to sound desperate. "I started it."
For several moments, the room fell silent. As Gohan looked straight ahead at Frieza, he missed Vegeta gawking at him with incredulity and shame. Frieza inquisitively stared at Gohan with narrowed eyes, sipping a wine glass from one hand and tapping his chair with the other.
Finally, he breathed a theatrical sigh.
"Alas, still trying to protect your prince, young lad." He clicked his teeth while shaking his head. "If only we had a mirror so you could see the extent to which he's mauled your face."
Doing his best impersonation of a petrified mother, Frieza clutched his chair and batted his whimpering eyes. "When I see that nose, swollen to the size of a hearty mushroom and an already-scarred eye just barely staying open, I weep. I truly do. How could I, with clear conscience, punish such a face?"
What the hell? Had Vegeta's punches hurt Gohan worse than he thought? Was he just hallucinating all of this? A sadistic freak like Frieza had gladly kicked Gohan while he was down more times than he could count. Why was he extolling sympathy for him now?
And if it wasn't all a hallucination, why the hell was he trying to change his mind?
"It's okay, Gohan. I forgive you."
Gohan had to shut his eyes to avoid seeing Frieza's smug face. His mind repeated a single word: resist.
"It's not your fault that this flame-haired blaggard manipulated you into blind loyalty, and when no longer able to boss you around violently lashes out and forces you to sink to his level." Gohan clenched his teeth, shutting his eyes more fiercely. "As someone relentlessly bullied by his big brother during his youth, I understand. I, too, am a casualty of the vicious cycle of abuse!"
Gohan's eyes whipped open with tenuously-shackled fury. The corrosive joy in Frieza's voice as he belittled his - and Vegeta's - suffering made Gohan want to lunge forward and attack. And judging from Frieza's wicked smile, he knew it.
"Rise above it, young lad! You are no longer beholden to this man." He momentously raised his arms into the air. "You are free, Gohan!"
Free.
The word nearly broke Gohan right then and there. He growled through his teeth, physically forcing himself to not scream his rejection of the word. Out of the corner of his eyes, he looked at Vegeta. Never had he seen such disgust and emotional pain in the bullheaded prince's face. Had it not been for the Ki-absorbing cuffs, he might have done even more damage to the base.
Frieza's eyes flickered as an idea sparked in his brain. "In fact, since you were the one to suffer from Vegeta's treachery today, I'll have you carry out his punishment."
Gohan's stomach collapsed.
"Frieza, I do-"
"I insist." His smile, with his lips almost touching the bottom edges of his eyes, plainly denoted that Gohan didn't have a choice in the matter.
Gohan's entire body shook with dread as Frieza spun his chair around. "Follow me, boys."
He led them to the backroom. Though Vegeta could walk for his damn self, Dodoria grabbed his arm and shoved him along. While they walked, Gohan stood exactly where he was, his brain stuck in a torrent of torment. Kiyomi questioned his ability to stay on the right side - and both Vegeta and Frieza were testing that notion.
But standing there would accomplish nothing, and so he swallowed heavily and followed them into the chamber.
The hook on the ceiling. The mantle of whips on the wall. It was the same damn room where his personal motivation finally molded itself. He could still smell the blood from that day eight years prior, and some of the other days he ended up back in there from petty slights.
It took all of Gohan's effort not to look away when Dodoria slid off Vegeta's armor and ripped up the top half of his suit. Dodoria grabbed him by his wrist, roughly hauled him up, and fastened his shackles against the hook to suspend him from the ceiling. That was when Gohan had to look away - suddenly he felt like an anvil had been placed on his chest. He panted harder than he had during any of the battles throughout his short life. Even standing still drained his energy.
When he chanced another glance at Vegeta hanging helplessly against the chains, as he had been long before, he vomited.
"Oh my!" Frieza yelped. "You can't even contain your excitement, can you?! Dodoria, if you please?"
While Dodoria crudely spat a ball of saliva on the floor and spread it against the puddle of bile, the pallid Gohan rested his hands against his knees and dry heaved. Nausea had overcome him, robbing him of his ability to stand straight.
"Focus, my young lad," Frieza advised. "Here, I'll help."
Frieza floated to the mantle and grabbed a whip. He smacked it against his own hand and cackled with glee when it sparked and gave him a jolt. He floated to Gohan and practically forced the handle into his palm.
"Make him suffer, boy."
Gohan forced his head to Vegeta, memories flooding him. How the tables had turned - the man hanging across from him had forced him in the same position against Mentos on the fateful day that killed his innocence.
Or when Salza made him fight Arepa, and Vegeta ordered him to suffer her painfully.
Only he wasn't whimpering like Mentos, or sulking like Arepa. Even under duress, Vegeta's eyes were defiant, practically daring Gohan to unleash that whip on him. Without a doubt, Vegeta only saw it as fuel. He had the type of steadfast will Gohan could never hope to attain.
When Gohan lifted his hand, it immediately sagged. His breathing grew even more labored. His mouth elicited incoherent stammers. Never in his life had lifting his arm been more difficult. Memories assaulted him with the image of his four-year old self in that position. The aftermath, when he was stuck in his own filth for three days. How Vegeta had actually taken it upon himself to pull him out of the void.
More quivering, more heaving. It was hard to even see, really.
"We're waiting, Gohan."
Who said that? Frieza? Or was the voice closer to Zarbon's? He could hardly hear anything over the sound of his own heartbeat and gasps for air.
When a single tear welled up in his eyes, it opened up the floodgates. Trying to gather himself and appear strong, Gohan finally thrust his arm to strike; only he just limply jutted it out and crumbled onto his knees. He bent down and pressed his hands against the gravelly floor, miserably sobbing like he had on the night it all began. The shel with which he'd protected himself had been whipped to pieces.
While Frieza, Zarbon, and Dodoria laughed in the background, something in Vegeta broke. As powerful as both his physical ability and his mental resolve was, keeping his eyes on the crying half-Saiyan child was among the toughest tasks of his life. Gohan was banging his fists against the ground as if he were cursing his own helplessness, much like he himself had done for countless nights at that same age.
He looked back at Frieza, who purported himself as a mentor but was all too happy to laugh at Gohan's despair. That scourge wasn't going to rest until Gohan was every bit the miserable bastard that Vegeta was.
When Gohan's whimpers became too much for Vegeta to take, he released a growl of frustration and anguish.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, boy?!"
The unrecognizable pain in Vegeta's voice stunned everyone in the room, even putting a stop to Gohan's tailspin. He gave the shackle-bound Vegeta his full attention.
"Raditz, Nappa, myself...we're the ones who put you up to this shit. We are to blame for all of your suffering. What the fuck does it matter to you what happens to me?!"
Gohan stood there on his knees, stunned. Even Frieza appeared lost for words.
"Half the shit you're probably crying about are things we did. I'm no better than those three jackasses back there."
While Dodoria angrily advanced towards Vegeta, Zarbon simply laughed and took it in stride. Frieza on the other hand, kept his eyes studiously narrowed.
Vegeta sucked his teeth in revulsion. "Are you scared? Is that it? Is that what your real problem is?" Gohan stood back up, wiping off his damp eyes as he sought to contest Vegeta's assessment. But he couldn't speak.
"All this time I thought it was your stupid little attachments, but those are the only things that make you act like a real Saiyan. You've been all too willing to hit me like an enemy when I bring up your precious mother."
When he saw Gohan's fists tighten up, he laughed at seeing his point proven. "You're scared of me. You're scared of them. And you're scared of your own goddamn self. You have no pride whatsoever."
Vegeta could tell from Frieza's urgent expression that he wanted to put a stop to all of this, so he smirked and got to the point.
"I did a helluva number on your face back there. I can promise you - you'll never have a better chance at getting your payback." Vegeta's dark eyes were filled with the fire that often inspired Gohan to act bolder than he really was. "You're sitting on a power I can't even comprehend and you let me beat you around like a punching bag."
With his nose still swelling, and some of the glass shards of the scouter Vegeta smashed still bothering his eyesight, Gohan stewed with a quiet anger.
"I'll say nothing about your mother. I'll say nothing about your father. I won't even say anything about the loud female." The Prince's face took a provocative, performative twist. "This is only about you, the spineless little crybaby that you are."
With an animalistic growl, Gohan swung his arm back with the intent to unleash hell - but the amused Vegeta had one last thing to say.
"The whip?! That's the coward's tool."
"You don't get to decide how you're punished, fool!" Frieza snapped. His patience had reached the very edge of its limits.
Vegeta snickered. "The boy's fists will dish out more damage than your little sex toy could ever." He ignored Frieza's growl and looked back at Gohan. "Am I wrong?"
Gohan obliged, dropping the whip. He cocked back his fist, centering his eyes on his target. With the wicked, goading smile Vegeta used to taunt him, he gave Gohan no ability to see him as anything other than the heartless warrior that turned him into a killing machine at the cost of his mental health.
And that made it easier for him to punch Vegeta squarely in his nose and crack it.
Then again, after snorting out some blood, Vegeta laughed and lifted his head right back up.
"C'mon now. I trained you. There's more in you than that, half-breed. You had more gusto for that brat from Trident."
Point made. With all the raw physical power he was capable of, Gohan smashed his fist into Vegeta's eye, and he didn't stop there. He punched him again. And again. And again. Not until he'd drawn as much blood as Vegeta got from him during their scuffle did he let up. And even then, he started attacking his body, unleashing all of the years of pent-up frustration on the Prince in the only way a Saiyan could. Strike after strike after strike rocked Vegeta's ribs and abdomen until even the shackles loosened.
"Enough, boy!"
Gohan stopped, and looked at the source of the voice. Frieza had a twinge of satisfaction in his expression, but didn't want to see the end of the flame-haired Saiyan who had a special place in the empty void of blackness that swirled where a normal man's heart would.
Gohan cringed at the quivering, dangling hunk of flesh that used to be Vegeta...until, with his keen eyesight, he saw a hint of that same old smirk curl onto his bloody lips.
"I didn't care for Vegeta's dramatics, but it's clear that you're coming along nicely," Frieza said, sipping from his wine yet again. "Now that your 'prince' is no longer a threat to you, I expect you to behave yourself from here on out."
"Kid did somethin' useful for once," Dodoria snickered.
Zarbon looked back at Vegeta and cackled. "Personally, I wish you would've just let him finish the bastard off."
No. Gohan was never going to be the guy to receive and accept glowing praises from the bastard triumvirate. He would prove Kiyomi and Vegeta wrong.
So he casually walked up to Zarbon.
Then, he punched him directly in his crotch.
The typically graceful, elegant Zarbon howled at an ear-splittingly high pitch, collapsed to his knees and fell on his delicate and meticulously maintained face into the puddle of vomit Dodoria had made little effort to clean.
Frieza, well, froze.
Before Dodoria could shout obscenities, Gohan kicked him in his crotch without even turning around. When his foot hit the floor, Gohan looked up at Frieza and his gobsmacked face, daring him to respond with just his fiercely furrowed brows.
Frieza's response was swift. He thrust his arm out and incinerated Gohan with a pink flash of light, letting it envelop his small frame and send jolts through his body for as long as he pleased. By the time his point was thoroughly made and he relinquished the light, Gohan's skin and purple uniform that mirrored his own were about two shades darker and charring with smoke.
Gohan collapsed onto his face, his entire body convulsing.
"Don't you dare move, boy!" Frieza's voice boomed with madness. "I will decide what I do with you later!" He cantankerously snapped his fingers towards his two aides. "Zarbon! Dodoria! Pick your miserable selves up and follow me!"
They both groggily stood back up, hands on their aching privates and seething at Gohan as they followed Frieza out of the chamber.
When they left, Vegeta opened only a single eye. His body felt like gelatin, even worse than it did after the fight with the Galactic Patrolman. Coughing hoarsely, he gazed at the writhing boy responsible for it all. Though it hurt his ribs to do so, he laughed with pride.
"Looks like there's still hope for you yet, Gohan."
It was faint, but Gohan smiled back.
"Ahhh….I gotta tell ya, I don't know what we'd do without your supreme Coffee making skills!"
"My pleasure."
Of course, the response had been made through gritted teeth. Though it was a reprieve from the vessel of misery that was Frieza's base, Gomayn hated this part of his job the most. Under Frieza, he split time between intelligence work and assisted on low-level purges in a mask to stay out of the patrol's crosshairs. It was a job of many perks. At the Galactic Patrol HQ, he was an intern at the bottom of the totem pole, forced to tolerate the presence of a bunch of eccentric dorks so Frieza could steal more resources without a mess.
That small, purple man with a blue face and golden shells for eyes, marveling at his coffee cup, was the biggest dork of them all. Jaco.
"If ya keep at it with the delicious drinks, you'll rise up from intern to elite officer in no time," Jaco said, enjoying a frothy sip from the cup. "I mean, not as elite as me of course, but that's a high bar to clear!"
Gomayn shook his head and looked away from Jaco. Luckily, the events at his real job had kept his spirits brighter. Seeing Gohan, whom he deemed as a soft pretty-boy pitifully masquerading as a badass, get punched around by the savage he aspired to be was too satisfying for words. With the base as damaged as it was, he could hear his and Vegeta's screams from their punishments. Gomayn just wished he hadn't been sent to the office before he could see Gohan get dragged into a healing tank.
"What happened to your eye?" Jaco asked as he took a sip.
Gomayn scowled, the bruise from Arepa's elbow still fresh on his face. He would personally get his revenge on those two, somehow. "Got hit by a rock. It's nothing."
"You better watch out for those space pebbles, I remember I got hit by one and not even my mom's sweetest kisses could take the pain away," Jaco said without a hint of irony.
"I'll be fine," Gomayn hissed.
Grabbing the large cup holder lined up with a dozen steaming mugs, Gomayn walked away from Jaco and into to the break room, where he was met with cheers from the caffeine-deprived patrolmen.
"Ah yeah, here comes the coffee boy!"
"My day's about to get better!"
"Nobody steal my flavor!"
He sighed with boredom as the officers of wildly varying shapes, sizes, and colors snatched mugs off of the tray. Only the last officer to walk up to him actually filled him with a sense of respect - a pale purple-skinned fellow that appeared around his age, sporting grey hair.
"Thanks. You make this job a lot easier," he said with a gracious smile as he picked up his mug.
That was Merus, the hypercompetent top ranking Patrolman. Essentially, who Jaco saw when he looked in the mirror.
After he set down the tray, he overheard an orange-skinned officer call for him. "Hey, Gomayn, we need you to file the Blue Aurum we picked up from an arrest. It's in the room to your left. Don't forget your filing tablet."
When the man turned around, Gomayn smirked. Oh, he wouldn't forget that, alright. It was an important part of his scheme. After walking to the table and picking up a small, white device, he opened the door...where an assortment of blow-up dolls collapsed on top of him.
Droves of laughter erupted through the room while Gomayn shoved the dolls off of him.
"Sorry, a little intern humor!" the orange officer said. "We had to introduce ya to Jaco's harem!"
The laughter exploded to volcanic levels, although Jaco certainly didn't share their sentiments. "C-C'mon, guys, that wasn't that funny."
Angrily, Gomayn stomped on one of the blow-up dolls heads to pop all of the air out of it. It was during these moments that he wanted to blow up the whole HQ, but he was outnumbered and often outclassed.
"Nah, but in all seriousness, it's all in the big room down the hall," the orange officer instructed.
Gomayn sighed and walked where directed. When he was within a few feet, however, somebody came barging through the break room.
"GUYS!"
Gomayn stopped and turned around. It was Irico, a short man with black eyes and a round head, bearing a skin color identical to his own. His face was panicked, bearing a heavy sadness.
"Maguro...Maguro is dead!"
Everyone, including Gomayn, gasped in shock. Maguro was among the very best officers in the patrol, right up there with Merus. In Frieza's army, he would have been among the best below elite level.
The Patrolmen, previously laughing and enjoying themselves, had to sit down, each overcome with grief and confusion.
"I don't get it...what happened?" Jaco asked.
"We're not entirely sure, but Maguro got an Emergency call from Planet Wagyu about an attack from Frieza's men," Irico said.
Gomayn gasped. An attack?! He had ensured that planets connected with elite Patrol officers were off the books unless Frieza, Avo & Cado, or the Ginyu Force were involved. Nobody had been assigned to Planet Wagyu as far as he knew.
"Did they say who it was?!" Jaco asked.
"All the guy said in the call was...a guy with long, spiky hair and a tail attacked him."
"A Saiyan!" one of the officers said. "Those savages are still kicking around, huh?"
"His Receiver went offline earlier today and the entire Planet was destroyed!
More aghast breaths. Gomayn walked away from the room of Blue Aurum and joined the officers back in the break room. In contrast to all of the sorrowful frowns and whimpers, Gomayn's expression was one of mystery and intrigue.
A Saiyan with long hair, huh?