Two Sides To A Story
Chapter Thirteen
Anger. Rage. Animosity.
Krillin saw all of these emotions churn in the black depths of Vegeta's eyes, which were only three inches from his own. Adding to the mix was a growing madness that the small monk had not seen for over four years. And he hadn't missed it, either. It meant that the crazed persona of the Saiyan, who had reveled in the pain and devastation caused during his initial visit on Earth, had returned with a vengeance.
"Are you prepared to finally die?" Vegeta asked him, his tone was almost conversational. A smile of pure malevolent intent was on his face and Krillin had to submerge a tremor of fear. "I promise that it won't be slow- "
"Vegeta, listen to me- You were injured-"
"No shit!"
"I mean that battle was over four years ago!" Krillin was almost babbling in his terror. "Things have happened since then, we all have a truce. You're on the side of the good guys now, you actually have a fami-"
"You talk too much," Vegeta snarled and rammed his forehead into the annoying midget's face, effectively silencing him. Slumping in the Saiyan's grip, Krillin was helpless to prevent being crudely dropkicked over the edge of the Look-Out.
Without any hesitation, Tien took to the air to catch his friend. He was buffeted aside by a ki blast that created a blistering gash across his right shoulder. Gripping the wound and cursing, he barely avoided several other volleys from the attacking Saiyan. One more nailed him squarely in the back just as he dropped below the Look-Out's horizon.
Clenching his teeth together in a fearsome grimace, Piccolo glared at this new threat, assuming a ready stance of defense. Vegeta appeared to be deliberately ignoring him as he looked down at his hands, frowning while he did so. The Namek was pretty sure why. "The discharges felt different, didn't they?"
Glancing sidelong at him, Vegeta only responded, "A Saiyan grows stronger after an injury. I should have expected an increase in my power."
"Surely you can feel the difference, Vegeta. Krillin was telling the truth; it's been almost five years since you last invaded Earth."
The Saiyan's eyes transformed into twin slits. "Lies," he spat. "I would have turned this world into a ball of ashes."
Forcing himself to not appear so threatening, Piccolo calmly shook his head. "It's a very long story. Will you let me tell it to you?"
"By all means, Namek," Vegeta said cordially and Piccolo actually thought that he had a chance until the smaller alien started to grin.
Below the Look-Out, Tien barely caught Krillin before they both impacted into the ground. Sprawled in untidy heaps in the grass, the pair attempted to shrug off their injuries and focus on the task at hand. For a moment, there were no words between them, only intelligible groans. Finally, as he rubbed a huge goose egg where his nose would have been, Krillin turned to his huge friend and muttered, "We're doomed."
Tien shot him a dark glance as he painfully shrugged out of his charred shirt, wincing at the pull on his burns. "You've faced Vegeta before. Not to mention Frieza and Cell. You're a lot stronger now, Krillin."
"Yeah, but so is Vegeta!"
Looking at the gold cable that led up to the miniscule Look-Out far above them, Tien made no comment. He was as aware of the Saiyan's abilities and their implications, just as Piccolo was; A Super Saiyan with decades of combat experience and a propensity for cruelty and violence that they couldn't even fathom. Gokou was dead and that left only his son as any kind of a defense against the battle that was to come. Hasn't the boy suffered enough? "Krillin..."
"I know," the small fighter said, getting slowly to his feet. "I'll go fetch Gohan. Hopefully, Vegeta will come to his senses by then-"
There was an immense flash of pure white light and the pair recoiled from its intensity, protectively shielding their vulnerable eyes. Tien swore that he could actually see the bones of his splayed fingers behind his closed eyelids from the severe glare. Several seconds later, there was a deafening roar of an explosion that made the ground shake and echoed off into the distance like thunder. When they chanced a glance skywards, a portion of Dende's Look-Out was blown out and reduced to a blazing ruin.
"I don't think there's much chance of that, Krillin," the fighter said in a shaky voice. "You better hurry."
Not even wasting a second for a reassuring nod, the little monk sped off westwards while Tien shot straight up. He passed an indignant Yajirobi who was leaning over the railing of Korin's Tower and brandishing one chubby fist as he bawled, "Hey, you guys! Knock it off! All that brawling made me spill my soup!"
Fortunately, Tien was a blur and the obese samurai never saw the erect middle finger intended for him. Any moment of levity was lost the instant the fighter touched down on the charred marble of the once-immaculate retreat. Vegeta's blast had created a widening furrow that had obliterated the southern end of the palace and erased the main platform to a depth of several hundred meters. The entire Look-Out now had a noticeable lean and Tien had to watch his step as he ran over to where Dende and Mr. Popo were kneeling beside Piccolo. Half of the Namek's cape was burnt off and he was gripping his right side where his arm and shoulder had been ripped off in the blast.
The deadly seriousness of the situation was beginning to hit home for Tien as he looked around. It was really happening. This time they hadn't received any warning from someone from the future to make the necessary preparations for this battle. Vegeta had reverted to the alien that he loathed more than any other enemy they had ever faced and they were on their own. "Piccolo, what happened?"
Pushing Dende away with a growl, the huge Namek shuddered with pain as he growled out, "I thought I was reasoning with him. He waited until my guard was down and attacked."
"Please, let me heal you," Dende was saying.
"You're resources are still limited from healing Vegeta," Piccolo told him. He examined Tien for a moment and added, "He needs your help more than I do."
Before any of them could object, Piccolo released a terrifying roar and another arm burst from his right side in a fine spray of emerald fluids. Panting from the effort of rejuvenation, he flexed the new limb experimentally and then began scanning the night sky. "Vegeta can't be left alone. We're going to have to find out where he's gone."
"I...can sense him," Tien realized as Dende began healing his wounds. "Why hasn't he shielded himself from us?"
A rare look of surprise replaced the anger on the Namek's face. For the first time since the Saiyan had awakened, he felt a small glimmer of hope. "Because he hasn't yet learned that he can," he said in a near-whisper.
Sorting through the photographs on his desk, Darren Foster wished that the life of a Private Investigator was like in the movies or even on television; car chases, hot babes and never-ending action. The reality was countless hours spent sitting in a car waiting for someone to leave his or her hotel room for an incriminating snapshot. That's what he was doing now, picking the most incriminating photos of a cheating husband to present to the man's wife tomorrow morning. It wasn't a glamorous life but at least it paid the bills. His work providing background checks on Capsule Corporation employees was by commission and only made up a small part of his business. But it was a profession that he excelled at.
The front door to his office was securely locked and he certainly wasn't expecting any visitors at midnight. He jumped about a foot off of his chair when there was a hard rap of knuckles on the window behind him. His office was on the twenty-fifth floor of an office building.
Whirling in surprise, he saw a scar-faced man in loose casuals hovering outside and he immediately slid open the window. "I know you. You're Yamcha, one of Bulma Briefs acquaintances."
"Uh... have we met?" Yamcha asked awkwardly as he stepped inside.
"Not personally," Darren said, slipping easily back into his chair. "I've done some checks on you, for Ms. Briefs sake. You're quite the ladies man."
His face reddening from something other than embarrassment, Yamcha was beginning to understand how Bulma always seemed to know about his indiscretions. He had always figured that she had remarkable women's intuition about matters like that. Little did he know that she'd had someone tailing his unfaithful ass the entire time. Clearing his throat, he forced his indignation aside and managed to get out, "I need a copy of some information that you got for Bulma. It involves Garth Tucker."
"Does she know you're asking?"
"Uh... no."
"Then I can't release that without her-"
"Listen to me!" Yamcha slammed down both of his hands on the desk and leaned over the man. "If you've done as thorough a check on me as I think you have, you know that I'm her close friend and I'd never do anything to hurt her. I've defended this world through countless threats, doesn't that count for anything in your book?"
The pair locked eyes for a moment until Darren sighed. "What do you want to know?"
"That Tucker guy was a soldier. I want to find out where he was stationed, that's all."
With a reluctant nod, the investigator turned to his computer and began calling up files for review. Reading the data silently, he ignored Yamcha's restless fidgeting until he finally spoke up; "I can't tell you that information-"
Rolling his eyes, Yamcha snapped, "I thought we just talked about this-"
"-Because his file is encrypted in the Military database under a top secret jurisdiction," Darren continued. "Wherever he was, all records are now restricted to all but the highest ranking officers. Whatever he did, it's nobody's business."
"Damn it," Yamcha muttered under his breath. It was just his perpetual bad luck that his one hunch would be an empty one. "Is there any other way to find out what happened to him?"
Leaning back in his chair, the other man stroked his chin as he became lost in thought. "If I remember correctly, he was in receipt of a disability pension. If it was something that happened recently, there might be another place I can look..."
Typing in a few lines of code, the expression on Darren's face never changed as he zipped past several intimating firewalls. His voice had an odd smug lilt to it when he finally said; "I've gotten into the medical database through a backdoor. Apparently, in the first week of August, Tucker was severely injured and transported to a Veteran's Hospital in Jacques City."
"How badly injured was he?"
"Nothing specific is listed. Looks like a coma for indeterminate reasons. It lasted for twenty-two days and after that it was another nine for recovery before he was released AMA."
Dread began settling into the pit of Yamcha's stomach the more he listened. He suddenly knew that they were no longer talking about a luckless human of the name of Tucker. They were discussing Vegeta. "AMA?"
"Against medical advice. The doctor assigned to his care didn't want him to leave."
Turning to look out the window, the young fighter chewed briefly on the inside of his cheek as he absorbed the news. "Who was the doctor?" he asked curiously.
This pathetic excuse for a planet was going to become one of the most spectacular pyrotechnic displays in the galaxy. Its destruction would leave a scar in space that would be visible for a million years, an eternal testimony of the unrivaled power that the Prince of all Saiyans could wield. Vegeta would revel in the white-hot fires of a dying world and bask in the screams of the executed masses of innocents. It was a pallet of death and destruction to which he was a master artist that had no equal and it was his greatest talent, his darkest gift. Yes, earth was a doomed world whose inhabitants were oblivious of their imminent demise. He was going to make his presence known soon enough...
But first, he had to go shopping.
His armor had been a write-off at the end of the battle with Kakarrot and his damnable son. Vegeta was drawing a troubling blank at what had happened after he had passed out inside of the pod. All he could think of was that they had prevented his escape and somehow managed to keep him imprisoned until his horrific wounds had healed. He should have died without a regeneration chamber to sustain him. Further perplexing was why the idiot humans would have wasted the resources to save their future executioner. Even worse, what the hell had they dressed him in?!
He had always taken particular care of his appearance. Certainly, he made it a point to never dress in the same uniforms his lowbrow subordinates, Nappa and Radditz, ever wore. He was a prince, after all, who possessed a particular sense of style and had an eye for quality. Despite his small frame, he was never one to go unnoticed either in casuals or battle uniforms, often choosing color schemes that flattered his dark coloring or wordlessly communicated his threatening intent. At the moment, all he was wearing were a pair of ripped, blood-splattered trousers and it wasn't proper attire for the future conqueror of an entire world.
Looking for something that resembled some manner of Market Square, he saw a vast collection of vehicles that were parked in front of an immense structure. He landed in front of the glass doors and jumped back when the doors pulled open on their tracks. Almost immediately, there was a corpulent human advancing on him. "Hey fella, it's closing time. You can't come in here. Hey!"
Deliberately ignoring him, Vegeta began to walk inside the Mall when the guard made the mistake of grabbing his shoulder. Pivoting on his heel, the Saiyan wrenched the offending arm away and shattered it at the elbow with the heel of his hand. The move was so fast that the departing shoppers never even noticed that anything had happened until the man started screaming. By then, Vegeta had disappeared down the nearest clothing aisle.
The fashions on this world were blinding in their color scheme and pathetic in their design, Vegeta concluded with growing irritation. He saw nothing that even remotely resembled armor or protective body uniforms, just loose- fitting abominations that could never endure even a mild battle without ripping. Nothing came close to fitting him either, and that only angered him more. Looking around, he had to levitate above a rack of socks and was about to plow through the ceiling to go look elsewhere when his sharp eyes fell on a design on the far wall. He flew over to it, barely registering the mobilization of the rest of the mall's security guards (all three of them), and stared at the design with a puzzled frown on his face. It was quite simple; three circles, one inside of another and written on the bottom were two words: Capsule Corp. For some reason, the sight of it bothered him and a knot of pain settled briefly over his left eye. He rubbed his temple with a curse and dismissed the ache as a leftover of whatever crude healing process the humans had forced on him. The sign was over a selection of clothing that displayed the same logo and this time the various designs actually caught his critical eye. Yes, these might actually be worthy.
He removed the stained pants he was wearing and began browsing through the racks in the nude when he registered movement out of the corner of his eye. The guards had surrounded him holding cans of pepper spray in shaking hands. "Don't make any sudden moves. Stay right where you are!"
"Fuck off. I'm shopping," Vegeta said, throwing a pair of pants over his shoulder and continuing his search.
The guards exchanged a glance, unanimously decided that they were dealing with a wacko, and depressed the triggers of their spray cans. It was the last thing that they ever did. Vegeta materialized behind the nearest guard, reached up and wrenched the man's head around so violently that the vertebrae in his neck exploded through the skin. The man was dead before he hit the ground and by then, so was guard number two. Vaulting over the first body, the Saiyan released a ki blast the cut the luckless human in half, propelling the guard's severed torso into a batch of stunned spectators. Not stopping with his momentum, Vegeta succeeded in killing the third with a direct kick to the Adam's apple, causing the man to strangle to death on his own vomit. All in all, the supposed combat lasted less than ten seconds and, with his usual smirk, the Saiyan continued his shopping unbothered.
Not long after, Vegeta stood in front of a full-length mirror and considered his reflection. The Capsule Corp. line of clothing seemed tailored for his specific size and appeared that it was designed to last. It wasn't what he was used to wearing but he had to admit that the look wasn't unappealing. He had chosen loose grey pants with a dark blue leather jacket over a black tank top. Completing the image were a pair of comfortable yellow boots. It wasn't his usual color scheme but for some reason it seemed familiar. That ache settled over his temple again whenever he started to dwell on the issue and he shut it away for later. The only thing that really bothered him now was his hair. Never in his life had it been any other fashion than the flame style that categorized his royal breeding. It was just one more reason that he was going to make this world suffer before it burned.
Turning to leave, he stared at the glass again and reached out to touch the smooth surface. A shiver ran up his spine and for some reason, he half- expected his image to change shape into something else. That was ridiculous. Forcing himself to look away, he deliberately turned his back and returned to where he had entered the building.
By now, the store had been evacuated and there were several patrol cars arranged around the front of the Mall. The instant he came into view, there was a flurry of activity and several spotlights singled him out. An authoritative voice called out on a bullhorn; "Stop where you are! Turn around and lay facedown on the ground with your hands behind your head. Do it right now!"
"Idiot humans," Vegeta was almost chuckling as he raised his left hand. His initial intent had been to blow the vehicles up and save the policemen for some hands-on practice sparring but several started firing their pistols. At the sound of gunfire, Vegeta flinched and over-reacted, releasing a ki blast that instantly transformed the darkened surroundings into daylight. The parking lot turned into a war zone before he even knew what had happened. The police hover cars had been reduced to twisted wrecks of charred metal and the humans had been vaporized. Not for the first time, the Saiyan looked down at his hand as if examining a treacherous snake. How could he have gotten so powerful in so short a time?
Perhaps the babbling midget hadn't been lying after all... "Krillin was telling the truth; it's been almost five years since you last invaded Earth," the Namek had said. Was it possible? Had he been asleep for all of that time?
Or, worse still, had he been awake and forgotten it all?
"Not possible," he grumbled as he crossed his arms. "The Prince of all Saiyans does not succumb to something as trite as amnesia."
"I'm not so sure about that," commented a female voice from behind him.
Turning only marginally, Vegeta regarded the newcomer with weary disdain. Another human, he concluded with the mental equivalence of a sigh although this one was enough to actually raise his eyebrow as his examination lingered.
Standing several meters from him, the woman had shoulder length blond hair and was wearing an attractive ensemble of a stripped sleeved sweater beneath a tasteful black vest and a denim mini skirt over black leggings. Android 18 was looking at the damage strewn around her and turned back to Vegeta, her slanted blue eyes wide with curiosity. She had witnessed him make some rather remarkable changes before but this one had to be at the top of the list. Barely recognizing him, she had thought for an instant that the instigator had been her brother until she saw him up close. "What happened to you, Vegeta?"
"We've met?" The Saiyan's perpetual smirk widened into a leering grin. "Well, lucky me..."
Not sure what to make of his demeanor, she stood her ground as he closed the distance until they were only a foot apart. His eyes crawled over her, deliberately lingering at her prominent breasts before he dropped his gaze to her crotch. Pursing his lips, he wetted them with a suggestive flick of his tongue. "Tell me, have I tasted you yet?"
"Wh-what do you mean-"
He snatched a fistful of her hair and pulled her face in closer. "All of this action has made me hornier than hell. I think I'm in the mood for a little dog-fucking. Just turn around and bend over and we can have some fun. What do you say?"
An indignant blush was rising to her usually pale cheeks. In as calm a voice as she could manage, she said, "There's only one way that I like dogs."
"That a fact? In what way?" Vegeta teased.
"Neutered," she said and brought her knee up between his legs as hard as she possibly could.
Following the elusive tendrils of Vegeta's faint ki, Piccolo and Tien said little between them as they concentrated on their mission. All during the flight, the Namek repeatedly tried to consult the portion of his mind where Kami resided but the ancient alien wasn't talking. Perhaps he was thinking like Tien at this point; that he should have left damn well enough alone and let the Saiyan stay dead. To hell with vague prophesies of the future.
The pair detected the alarming spikes of Vegeta's ki even before they could hear the wails of sirens in the city they were approaching. They slowed down and allowed their senses to lead them into the center of the district where smoke was billowing out of a crater in front of a shopping mall.
"Do you think Vegeta is still nearby?" Tien ventured.
"!!YOU NAILED ME IN THE FUCKING 'NADS, YOU BLOND BITCH!! I'LL KILL YOU!!"
"Yes," Piccolo responded, straight-faced.
The pair swiftly descended and regarded the grim sight of devastation that lay sprawled around them. There was no need to even make the attempt to search for survivors; this was Vegeta they were talking about, after all. Piccolo noticed Android 18 first and felt a tremor of unease worm its way into his gut. "What are you doing here?" He barked, desperately hoping that the Saiyan hadn't gained an ally.
Tucking her hair behind one ear, the female spared a cool glance in his direction. "I was keeping an eye on Krillin until Vegeta attacked the Look-Out. What's going on here?"
"Trunks?" Tien called out, noticing the familiar clothes on the individual who was doubled-over several meters away.
"That's not Trunks," Piccolo said quickly, recognizing the raven brows of the man who looked over at them. For some reason, the Saiyan had adopted the same clothing that his son from the future had worn during much of his stay. It was a hopeful sign that Vegeta was remembering snatches of his lost memories. How much more was struggling to free itself from the damage? The troubled Namek kept a keen eye on him but didn't interfere.
"Ohh, you- Miserable. Little. Cooze!" Vegeta coughed as he slowly managed to straighten up. His groin was a blinding ache of throbbing agony from the blonde's deliberate strike. It reminded him of another design flaw that this world's pathetic line of clothing failed to offer; groin shields like his previous armor. He'd been caught off-guard with a shot to the pills before, but there was something behind the strength of the woman's blow that suggested that there was more to her than just a fantastic body. A lot more. "I might have let you live before. Now all bets are off!"
"What's gotten into you?" 18 yelled at him. The information in her mental database informed her that a direct blow to the testicles should have proven completely incapacitating. Aside from stagger Vegeta for more then a few seconds, all it had succeeded in doing was royally piss him off. It wasn't a first time that Dr. Gero had provided her with incorrect information about the Saiyan. As usual, the timing in this instance was terrible.
"He's lost his memories of the last four years," Piccolo called out to her. "Be very careful, 18! This isn't a personality of Vegeta's that you've ever encountered before. He'll try to kill you!"
"Like you haven't tried that before," 18 sniffed.
Vegeta frowned at her. "We've fought?"
"Little man, I kicked your ass!"
The Saiyan adopted that maniacal grin as he crouched down into an attack posture. "By the time we're done here, I'll be screwing yours," he assured her. There was no time for rebuttal from anyone as he launched himself into the air.
Moving to the side to avoid the tackle, 18 was unprepared for the Saiyan's outraged advance. Vegeta grabbed firm hold of her legs and the pair went crashing through the side of the mall, shattering cinderblocks with the force of their collision. His initial suspicions that this female was no mere human were confirmed when it was plain that the impact didn't even rattle her. He lashed out with a blinding kick that 18 blocked and ducked as her arm swept around and embedded itself into the wall up to her elbow. Pushing himself from the floor, he nailed her midriff with both feet and she stumbled backwards into a greeting card rack, scattering the contents.
"Better pick out a bereavement card now," Vegeta was chuckling. "You're going to need it!"
Watching his posture for valuable clues, 18 rolled out of the way of a destructo disk that went slicing over her head and went at him with both fists glowing. She aimed a double ki blast point blank at his face and when the smoke cleared, her smug expression dissolved into one of surprise. Vegeta was unfazed by the attack and still wearing that infuriating smirk as he regarded her.
"Nice trick. Here's one of mine," he said and spread his arms and released a blast from either hand. 18 didn't understand the nature of the attack until both discharges curved around and slammed into her back, pushing her into his waiting arms. "What do you think of that one?" He asked, grazing his lips over hers while his hands restlessly groped her body.
"Bastard!" She hissed and tried to kick him again. This time he was prepared for it and gave her a backhand that sent her sliding down the aisle.
"I see that I'm going to have to wear you down a bit," he remarked as he walked confidently towards her. "Personally, I wouldn't have it any other way."
18's skin crawled at the cold snicker that followed the statement. On two different occasions she had witnessed the Saiyan in battle; once in opposition with her and the other against Cell. She was used to the never- ending arrogance that categorized his personality but this was a new side of him that she had never seen. He was actually having fun! During their first battle, he had been brimming with over-confidence and obviously inexperienced with his Super Saiyan form. She had made short work of him then. When he had encountered Cell, there had been a hint of that taunting side of him as he toyed with the incomplete android, beating him into humiliating submission. That dark humor was still there but it possessed an almost child-like glee with the destruction that he was causing. He seemed very young and very dangerous.
Piccolo was observing Vegeta as he fought and was drawing the same conclusions. He and Tien hovered off to the side as Saiyan and Android threw themselves at one another and began a series of lightening fast strikes and kicks. Their eyes could barely keep track of the pace of the frenzied combat. No quarter was spared for the other as they exchanged blows that were capable of denting steel. 18 managed to land a kick into Vegeta's side that knocked him off balance and she took advantage of that lapse in his defense. She pummeled his face and chest with a dozen blows in the span of less than a second and fired another ki blast that threw him the length of the mall.
Landing in the children's toy section, a display stand of Pokémon plush toys broke the Saiyan's fall. Sputtering curses under his breath, he barely got back to his feet before 18 flew into him again. She was pressing the advantage of surprise as she worked her way past weakening defenses, forcing him backwards. As outraged as she should have been for his crude advances, there was only one thought that entered her mind-
"Why hasn't he transformed into a Super Saiyan?" Tien spoke up. He and Piccolo were biding their time, looking for an opportunity to move in. "He's losing! Why hasn't he made the change?"
Piccolo's olive features betrayed more of that growing hope. "He doesn't know that he's managed the transformation! At this point in his memories, it's still all superstition and conjecture." He looked over at the human and Tien was surprised to see that the alien was actually smiling. "Vegeta's believes he's still in the same power range that he was four years ago. The rest of us have all surpassed that level. We may have a chance after all. If we work together, we can take him down ourselves!"
It was all that Tien needed to hear. "Right!"
He was losing! Vegeta couldn't believe it even as one small fist glanced off his forearm and connected with the side of his head while a dainty shoe impacted against his hip. The Prince of all Saiyans was getting his ass kicked by a potential piece of tail! With a roar of anger, he grabbed her leg as she was rounding on him for another kick, throwing her away as hard as he possibly could.
18 smashed up against the overhead fluorescents and hovered there for the moment. Breathing heavy, Vegeta didn't understand the reason for her hesitation until green arms slid up under his armpits and hoisted him off the ground. "Now Tien!" That three-eyed freak dropped down in front of him, grinning from ear to ear.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying this part," Tien remarked and plowed him square in the face with one huge glowing fist.
The Saiyan's world exploded into a kaleidoscope of whirling stars. Through burning eyes, he saw the huge human winding up for another blow and started twisting in Piccolo's grip. Holding onto him was like trying to wrestle with a wildcat and more than once, the Namek came close to losing his grip. He settled for a chokehold around Vegeta's neck, tightening as hard as he possibly dared while the smaller alien thrashed against him, gasping for air. "Calm down, Vegeta! If you'd just listen to reason, you'd see that all this fighting is pointless. Just hear us out for one minute!"
Piccolo's words were reduced to incomprehensible nonsense as the blood boiled in Vegeta's ears. Clawing at the arm around his neck, he continued his struggles until his air supply was cut off and blackness began closing in on his vision. There was something very familiar with this situation; he had endured this type of abuse before. If he could only just figure out how he had managed to get out of it, he'd be free-
His eyes snapped open and the turmoil around him was replaced by a barren landscape overshadowed by a pale green sky. There was still something around his neck, strangling him, but it wasn't an arm. It was a clammy, naked tail.
"My dear little monkey prince," Frieza purred into his ear. "You should know better than to defy me."
A thousand blows rained upon his back in the span of seconds. He could feel his spine shatter to pieces, his internal organs rupture. Oh yes, there had been a way to escape this chokehold. He even remembered how he had accomplished the feat...
He had died.
Vegeta slumped in Piccolo's grip at long last and the Namek was sure that he had finally blacked out. For a few seconds there, he had almost wormed himself free. Reluctant to release him, he felt for a pulse along the Saiyan's jawline and found one- rapid and strong. That wasn't the only thing; his flesh was growing hotter to the touch.
"Uh, Piccolo." Tien was stepping back as Vegeta's body began smoldering with glowing tendrils of energy.
Shouting out in pain, Piccolo had no choice but to release his grip when the Saiyan's power burned him. Vegeta pulled himself to his knees and wrapped his arms around his head. The fires of growing ki were shrouding his body and gaining in intensity by the second. "It can't be true- It can't! He killed me- !!FRIEZA KILLED ME!!"
"Everybody clear out!" Piccolo called to the others.
They didn't even have time to look for an exit when Vegeta threw his head back and screamed his rage and misery. An explosion of power radiated outwards that was like nothing any of them had ever encountered. It obliterated everything inanimate in its path like a solid wall of destruction and blew out every partition of the huge building in a soundless manifestation of god-like might. Even the ceiling was blasted upwards from the force of the display, with pieces raining down in neighborhoods several kilometers away.
Before unconsciousness claimed him, Piccolo opened his swollen eyes a crack and saw Vegeta kneeling in the center of the crater he had created. His short hair was a bright blond and his eyes were actually glowing a brilliant green with unrivaled power. He was staring at his hands in amazement and laughing in delight.
It's the beginning of the end, the Namek thought bleakly before he slumped face-first into the dirt.
Trunks eyes snapped open and he looked up at the ceiling and started wailing. Roused out of a sound sleep, Bulma realized that she had fallen asleep in the rocking chair beside the crib and was still holding the baby in her arms. As she tried to comfort him, she stole a glance at her watch and could barely believe what she saw. She had been asleep for over three hours!
Digging urgently into her pant's pocket for her vidphone, she wanted to call Krillin and find out if there was any news on Vegeta's condition. It was suspiciously missing and she submerged a frustrated exhale of breath, sensing her mother's interference. Her back rebelled when she got to her feet after having slept in such an uncomfortable position. She tried to put Trunks to bed but he wasn't having any of it, thrashing with renewed vigor and screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Shush, honey! Shhhhhhh, you'll wake up the entire house," she tried to sooth him to no avail.
"Daughter?"
Standing in the doorway, her father was looking in on her. Bulma immediately noticed the expression of dread on his face and the fact that he was still in his work clothes although it was almost one o'clock in the morning. Behind him, stood her mother and flanking the harried blond was Chi Chi, all looking equally distraught.
He died while I was sleeping, Bulma thought incoherently. Vegeta died and now they're coming to break the news... "D-daddy?" she whimpered, her blue eyes steadily widening in growing horror. "What's wrong? Is... it Vegeta?"
At the sound of his name, her mother started weeping which didn't help the situation. When Dr. Briefs hesitated, Chi Chi stepped inside and told her, "Vegeta's woken up."
"Oh, thank god! I thought-"
"It's not good news, Bulma," the brunette continued ruefully. "He's lost his memories of the last four years. His powers are back and he's determined to destroy the earth. Gohan just left with Krillin to try and stop him." Her own lips were a pale, rigid line of worry for her son. She knew what this grim situation meant just as much as Bulma did. The boy was speeding headlong towards a battle to the death. Very likely his own. There was little doubt that Chi Chi would have tried to stop the boy and her present frustration was as plain as her hatred of Vegeta.
There was no time for lamentations, not now. Adopting an expression carved out of stone, Bulma straightened her spine and asked, "Where's Yamcha?"
"Last I heard, he was heading for Jacques City," her father told him. "He's checking a lead that might reveal what happened to Vegeta during his disappearance."
"Of all the piss-poor timing," Bulma muttered under her breath. She needed the fighter's sense of ki to find out where the fighting was happening. Without it, she had no way of telling where Vegeta and the others were.
Or was there?
Standing up in his crib, Trunks was flailing his arms between the bars and howling. Walking over to him, Bulma picked the baby up and stared directly into his flushed face. "Trunks, listen to me," she said in a hard voice.
Blinking at the unusual tone, the boy ceased his cries and stared at her curiously.
"Can you sense Vegeta? Can you feel your father ki, Trunks?"
"Bulma! He's only a little baby!" Her mother scolded.
"A little half-Saiyan baby, you mean," Chi Chi told her, casting Bulma a questioning look. She knew what the other woman was trying to do but Trunks was only ten months old. Was he too young to understand?
Directing the intensity of her blue eyes solely on the boy's, Bulma continued, "Do you know where your father went? Can you tell me where Vegeta is? Please!"
Trunks' eyes widened in recognition of the Saiyan's name and his face betrayed a happy grin. Gurgling in excitement, he began waving a chubby fist northwards. "Vehta! VETA KI!"
"That's my boy," Bulma praised, pulling him in close for a well-deserved hug while the others looked on in amazement.
Vegeta was screaming again but it had nothing to do with getting laid or insignificant memories of his death. He was above such petty concerns now and his howls of accomplishment were the only means he could communicate his excitement.
His arms were raised skywards as he gathered an enormous ball of destructive ki and he threw it at the city below him, bathing in the cinders of incinerated buildings. The bright fires of the Super Saiyan transformation radiated off of his body in waves and he was drunk on the power that suffused every single pore of his being. No drug or beverage could compare with this! It eclipsed everything in his mind; even sex was no comparison to the sensations involved with wielding this much raw energy. He was a GOD!
His mad laughter rolled like thunder over the survivors of the city but they didn't have much time to dwell on it. With a flick of his fingers, Vegeta slaughtered them in their tracks. Another deadly barrage erased all signs that this had ever been a city at all. Only a smoldering crater, two kilometers wide, was testimony that anything had ever existed there.
Watching the smoke settle with grim satisfaction, Vegeta wasn't even breathing hard from the effort. In the back of his mind, with newfound awareness, he could sense pathetic beings rapidly approaching to try and stop him.
The wicked grin on his face only stretched wider from that knowledge. "Let them come," he said under his breath.
He crossed his arms and chose to wait, eager to show-off his incredible might.
------------------------------------------------------- If you want to be on the Mailing List, e-mail me at: darke_angelus@hotmail.com Or visit my web site at: www.angelfire.com/anime4/darkeside/home.htm -------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Fourteen: Vegeta's reign of terror continues! Who will be the person to vanquish him? Gohan?... Or a surprising ally?
Anger. Rage. Animosity.
Krillin saw all of these emotions churn in the black depths of Vegeta's eyes, which were only three inches from his own. Adding to the mix was a growing madness that the small monk had not seen for over four years. And he hadn't missed it, either. It meant that the crazed persona of the Saiyan, who had reveled in the pain and devastation caused during his initial visit on Earth, had returned with a vengeance.
"Are you prepared to finally die?" Vegeta asked him, his tone was almost conversational. A smile of pure malevolent intent was on his face and Krillin had to submerge a tremor of fear. "I promise that it won't be slow- "
"Vegeta, listen to me- You were injured-"
"No shit!"
"I mean that battle was over four years ago!" Krillin was almost babbling in his terror. "Things have happened since then, we all have a truce. You're on the side of the good guys now, you actually have a fami-"
"You talk too much," Vegeta snarled and rammed his forehead into the annoying midget's face, effectively silencing him. Slumping in the Saiyan's grip, Krillin was helpless to prevent being crudely dropkicked over the edge of the Look-Out.
Without any hesitation, Tien took to the air to catch his friend. He was buffeted aside by a ki blast that created a blistering gash across his right shoulder. Gripping the wound and cursing, he barely avoided several other volleys from the attacking Saiyan. One more nailed him squarely in the back just as he dropped below the Look-Out's horizon.
Clenching his teeth together in a fearsome grimace, Piccolo glared at this new threat, assuming a ready stance of defense. Vegeta appeared to be deliberately ignoring him as he looked down at his hands, frowning while he did so. The Namek was pretty sure why. "The discharges felt different, didn't they?"
Glancing sidelong at him, Vegeta only responded, "A Saiyan grows stronger after an injury. I should have expected an increase in my power."
"Surely you can feel the difference, Vegeta. Krillin was telling the truth; it's been almost five years since you last invaded Earth."
The Saiyan's eyes transformed into twin slits. "Lies," he spat. "I would have turned this world into a ball of ashes."
Forcing himself to not appear so threatening, Piccolo calmly shook his head. "It's a very long story. Will you let me tell it to you?"
"By all means, Namek," Vegeta said cordially and Piccolo actually thought that he had a chance until the smaller alien started to grin.
Below the Look-Out, Tien barely caught Krillin before they both impacted into the ground. Sprawled in untidy heaps in the grass, the pair attempted to shrug off their injuries and focus on the task at hand. For a moment, there were no words between them, only intelligible groans. Finally, as he rubbed a huge goose egg where his nose would have been, Krillin turned to his huge friend and muttered, "We're doomed."
Tien shot him a dark glance as he painfully shrugged out of his charred shirt, wincing at the pull on his burns. "You've faced Vegeta before. Not to mention Frieza and Cell. You're a lot stronger now, Krillin."
"Yeah, but so is Vegeta!"
Looking at the gold cable that led up to the miniscule Look-Out far above them, Tien made no comment. He was as aware of the Saiyan's abilities and their implications, just as Piccolo was; A Super Saiyan with decades of combat experience and a propensity for cruelty and violence that they couldn't even fathom. Gokou was dead and that left only his son as any kind of a defense against the battle that was to come. Hasn't the boy suffered enough? "Krillin..."
"I know," the small fighter said, getting slowly to his feet. "I'll go fetch Gohan. Hopefully, Vegeta will come to his senses by then-"
There was an immense flash of pure white light and the pair recoiled from its intensity, protectively shielding their vulnerable eyes. Tien swore that he could actually see the bones of his splayed fingers behind his closed eyelids from the severe glare. Several seconds later, there was a deafening roar of an explosion that made the ground shake and echoed off into the distance like thunder. When they chanced a glance skywards, a portion of Dende's Look-Out was blown out and reduced to a blazing ruin.
"I don't think there's much chance of that, Krillin," the fighter said in a shaky voice. "You better hurry."
Not even wasting a second for a reassuring nod, the little monk sped off westwards while Tien shot straight up. He passed an indignant Yajirobi who was leaning over the railing of Korin's Tower and brandishing one chubby fist as he bawled, "Hey, you guys! Knock it off! All that brawling made me spill my soup!"
Fortunately, Tien was a blur and the obese samurai never saw the erect middle finger intended for him. Any moment of levity was lost the instant the fighter touched down on the charred marble of the once-immaculate retreat. Vegeta's blast had created a widening furrow that had obliterated the southern end of the palace and erased the main platform to a depth of several hundred meters. The entire Look-Out now had a noticeable lean and Tien had to watch his step as he ran over to where Dende and Mr. Popo were kneeling beside Piccolo. Half of the Namek's cape was burnt off and he was gripping his right side where his arm and shoulder had been ripped off in the blast.
The deadly seriousness of the situation was beginning to hit home for Tien as he looked around. It was really happening. This time they hadn't received any warning from someone from the future to make the necessary preparations for this battle. Vegeta had reverted to the alien that he loathed more than any other enemy they had ever faced and they were on their own. "Piccolo, what happened?"
Pushing Dende away with a growl, the huge Namek shuddered with pain as he growled out, "I thought I was reasoning with him. He waited until my guard was down and attacked."
"Please, let me heal you," Dende was saying.
"You're resources are still limited from healing Vegeta," Piccolo told him. He examined Tien for a moment and added, "He needs your help more than I do."
Before any of them could object, Piccolo released a terrifying roar and another arm burst from his right side in a fine spray of emerald fluids. Panting from the effort of rejuvenation, he flexed the new limb experimentally and then began scanning the night sky. "Vegeta can't be left alone. We're going to have to find out where he's gone."
"I...can sense him," Tien realized as Dende began healing his wounds. "Why hasn't he shielded himself from us?"
A rare look of surprise replaced the anger on the Namek's face. For the first time since the Saiyan had awakened, he felt a small glimmer of hope. "Because he hasn't yet learned that he can," he said in a near-whisper.
Sorting through the photographs on his desk, Darren Foster wished that the life of a Private Investigator was like in the movies or even on television; car chases, hot babes and never-ending action. The reality was countless hours spent sitting in a car waiting for someone to leave his or her hotel room for an incriminating snapshot. That's what he was doing now, picking the most incriminating photos of a cheating husband to present to the man's wife tomorrow morning. It wasn't a glamorous life but at least it paid the bills. His work providing background checks on Capsule Corporation employees was by commission and only made up a small part of his business. But it was a profession that he excelled at.
The front door to his office was securely locked and he certainly wasn't expecting any visitors at midnight. He jumped about a foot off of his chair when there was a hard rap of knuckles on the window behind him. His office was on the twenty-fifth floor of an office building.
Whirling in surprise, he saw a scar-faced man in loose casuals hovering outside and he immediately slid open the window. "I know you. You're Yamcha, one of Bulma Briefs acquaintances."
"Uh... have we met?" Yamcha asked awkwardly as he stepped inside.
"Not personally," Darren said, slipping easily back into his chair. "I've done some checks on you, for Ms. Briefs sake. You're quite the ladies man."
His face reddening from something other than embarrassment, Yamcha was beginning to understand how Bulma always seemed to know about his indiscretions. He had always figured that she had remarkable women's intuition about matters like that. Little did he know that she'd had someone tailing his unfaithful ass the entire time. Clearing his throat, he forced his indignation aside and managed to get out, "I need a copy of some information that you got for Bulma. It involves Garth Tucker."
"Does she know you're asking?"
"Uh... no."
"Then I can't release that without her-"
"Listen to me!" Yamcha slammed down both of his hands on the desk and leaned over the man. "If you've done as thorough a check on me as I think you have, you know that I'm her close friend and I'd never do anything to hurt her. I've defended this world through countless threats, doesn't that count for anything in your book?"
The pair locked eyes for a moment until Darren sighed. "What do you want to know?"
"That Tucker guy was a soldier. I want to find out where he was stationed, that's all."
With a reluctant nod, the investigator turned to his computer and began calling up files for review. Reading the data silently, he ignored Yamcha's restless fidgeting until he finally spoke up; "I can't tell you that information-"
Rolling his eyes, Yamcha snapped, "I thought we just talked about this-"
"-Because his file is encrypted in the Military database under a top secret jurisdiction," Darren continued. "Wherever he was, all records are now restricted to all but the highest ranking officers. Whatever he did, it's nobody's business."
"Damn it," Yamcha muttered under his breath. It was just his perpetual bad luck that his one hunch would be an empty one. "Is there any other way to find out what happened to him?"
Leaning back in his chair, the other man stroked his chin as he became lost in thought. "If I remember correctly, he was in receipt of a disability pension. If it was something that happened recently, there might be another place I can look..."
Typing in a few lines of code, the expression on Darren's face never changed as he zipped past several intimating firewalls. His voice had an odd smug lilt to it when he finally said; "I've gotten into the medical database through a backdoor. Apparently, in the first week of August, Tucker was severely injured and transported to a Veteran's Hospital in Jacques City."
"How badly injured was he?"
"Nothing specific is listed. Looks like a coma for indeterminate reasons. It lasted for twenty-two days and after that it was another nine for recovery before he was released AMA."
Dread began settling into the pit of Yamcha's stomach the more he listened. He suddenly knew that they were no longer talking about a luckless human of the name of Tucker. They were discussing Vegeta. "AMA?"
"Against medical advice. The doctor assigned to his care didn't want him to leave."
Turning to look out the window, the young fighter chewed briefly on the inside of his cheek as he absorbed the news. "Who was the doctor?" he asked curiously.
This pathetic excuse for a planet was going to become one of the most spectacular pyrotechnic displays in the galaxy. Its destruction would leave a scar in space that would be visible for a million years, an eternal testimony of the unrivaled power that the Prince of all Saiyans could wield. Vegeta would revel in the white-hot fires of a dying world and bask in the screams of the executed masses of innocents. It was a pallet of death and destruction to which he was a master artist that had no equal and it was his greatest talent, his darkest gift. Yes, earth was a doomed world whose inhabitants were oblivious of their imminent demise. He was going to make his presence known soon enough...
But first, he had to go shopping.
His armor had been a write-off at the end of the battle with Kakarrot and his damnable son. Vegeta was drawing a troubling blank at what had happened after he had passed out inside of the pod. All he could think of was that they had prevented his escape and somehow managed to keep him imprisoned until his horrific wounds had healed. He should have died without a regeneration chamber to sustain him. Further perplexing was why the idiot humans would have wasted the resources to save their future executioner. Even worse, what the hell had they dressed him in?!
He had always taken particular care of his appearance. Certainly, he made it a point to never dress in the same uniforms his lowbrow subordinates, Nappa and Radditz, ever wore. He was a prince, after all, who possessed a particular sense of style and had an eye for quality. Despite his small frame, he was never one to go unnoticed either in casuals or battle uniforms, often choosing color schemes that flattered his dark coloring or wordlessly communicated his threatening intent. At the moment, all he was wearing were a pair of ripped, blood-splattered trousers and it wasn't proper attire for the future conqueror of an entire world.
Looking for something that resembled some manner of Market Square, he saw a vast collection of vehicles that were parked in front of an immense structure. He landed in front of the glass doors and jumped back when the doors pulled open on their tracks. Almost immediately, there was a corpulent human advancing on him. "Hey fella, it's closing time. You can't come in here. Hey!"
Deliberately ignoring him, Vegeta began to walk inside the Mall when the guard made the mistake of grabbing his shoulder. Pivoting on his heel, the Saiyan wrenched the offending arm away and shattered it at the elbow with the heel of his hand. The move was so fast that the departing shoppers never even noticed that anything had happened until the man started screaming. By then, Vegeta had disappeared down the nearest clothing aisle.
The fashions on this world were blinding in their color scheme and pathetic in their design, Vegeta concluded with growing irritation. He saw nothing that even remotely resembled armor or protective body uniforms, just loose- fitting abominations that could never endure even a mild battle without ripping. Nothing came close to fitting him either, and that only angered him more. Looking around, he had to levitate above a rack of socks and was about to plow through the ceiling to go look elsewhere when his sharp eyes fell on a design on the far wall. He flew over to it, barely registering the mobilization of the rest of the mall's security guards (all three of them), and stared at the design with a puzzled frown on his face. It was quite simple; three circles, one inside of another and written on the bottom were two words: Capsule Corp. For some reason, the sight of it bothered him and a knot of pain settled briefly over his left eye. He rubbed his temple with a curse and dismissed the ache as a leftover of whatever crude healing process the humans had forced on him. The sign was over a selection of clothing that displayed the same logo and this time the various designs actually caught his critical eye. Yes, these might actually be worthy.
He removed the stained pants he was wearing and began browsing through the racks in the nude when he registered movement out of the corner of his eye. The guards had surrounded him holding cans of pepper spray in shaking hands. "Don't make any sudden moves. Stay right where you are!"
"Fuck off. I'm shopping," Vegeta said, throwing a pair of pants over his shoulder and continuing his search.
The guards exchanged a glance, unanimously decided that they were dealing with a wacko, and depressed the triggers of their spray cans. It was the last thing that they ever did. Vegeta materialized behind the nearest guard, reached up and wrenched the man's head around so violently that the vertebrae in his neck exploded through the skin. The man was dead before he hit the ground and by then, so was guard number two. Vaulting over the first body, the Saiyan released a ki blast the cut the luckless human in half, propelling the guard's severed torso into a batch of stunned spectators. Not stopping with his momentum, Vegeta succeeded in killing the third with a direct kick to the Adam's apple, causing the man to strangle to death on his own vomit. All in all, the supposed combat lasted less than ten seconds and, with his usual smirk, the Saiyan continued his shopping unbothered.
Not long after, Vegeta stood in front of a full-length mirror and considered his reflection. The Capsule Corp. line of clothing seemed tailored for his specific size and appeared that it was designed to last. It wasn't what he was used to wearing but he had to admit that the look wasn't unappealing. He had chosen loose grey pants with a dark blue leather jacket over a black tank top. Completing the image were a pair of comfortable yellow boots. It wasn't his usual color scheme but for some reason it seemed familiar. That ache settled over his temple again whenever he started to dwell on the issue and he shut it away for later. The only thing that really bothered him now was his hair. Never in his life had it been any other fashion than the flame style that categorized his royal breeding. It was just one more reason that he was going to make this world suffer before it burned.
Turning to leave, he stared at the glass again and reached out to touch the smooth surface. A shiver ran up his spine and for some reason, he half- expected his image to change shape into something else. That was ridiculous. Forcing himself to look away, he deliberately turned his back and returned to where he had entered the building.
By now, the store had been evacuated and there were several patrol cars arranged around the front of the Mall. The instant he came into view, there was a flurry of activity and several spotlights singled him out. An authoritative voice called out on a bullhorn; "Stop where you are! Turn around and lay facedown on the ground with your hands behind your head. Do it right now!"
"Idiot humans," Vegeta was almost chuckling as he raised his left hand. His initial intent had been to blow the vehicles up and save the policemen for some hands-on practice sparring but several started firing their pistols. At the sound of gunfire, Vegeta flinched and over-reacted, releasing a ki blast that instantly transformed the darkened surroundings into daylight. The parking lot turned into a war zone before he even knew what had happened. The police hover cars had been reduced to twisted wrecks of charred metal and the humans had been vaporized. Not for the first time, the Saiyan looked down at his hand as if examining a treacherous snake. How could he have gotten so powerful in so short a time?
Perhaps the babbling midget hadn't been lying after all... "Krillin was telling the truth; it's been almost five years since you last invaded Earth," the Namek had said. Was it possible? Had he been asleep for all of that time?
Or, worse still, had he been awake and forgotten it all?
"Not possible," he grumbled as he crossed his arms. "The Prince of all Saiyans does not succumb to something as trite as amnesia."
"I'm not so sure about that," commented a female voice from behind him.
Turning only marginally, Vegeta regarded the newcomer with weary disdain. Another human, he concluded with the mental equivalence of a sigh although this one was enough to actually raise his eyebrow as his examination lingered.
Standing several meters from him, the woman had shoulder length blond hair and was wearing an attractive ensemble of a stripped sleeved sweater beneath a tasteful black vest and a denim mini skirt over black leggings. Android 18 was looking at the damage strewn around her and turned back to Vegeta, her slanted blue eyes wide with curiosity. She had witnessed him make some rather remarkable changes before but this one had to be at the top of the list. Barely recognizing him, she had thought for an instant that the instigator had been her brother until she saw him up close. "What happened to you, Vegeta?"
"We've met?" The Saiyan's perpetual smirk widened into a leering grin. "Well, lucky me..."
Not sure what to make of his demeanor, she stood her ground as he closed the distance until they were only a foot apart. His eyes crawled over her, deliberately lingering at her prominent breasts before he dropped his gaze to her crotch. Pursing his lips, he wetted them with a suggestive flick of his tongue. "Tell me, have I tasted you yet?"
"Wh-what do you mean-"
He snatched a fistful of her hair and pulled her face in closer. "All of this action has made me hornier than hell. I think I'm in the mood for a little dog-fucking. Just turn around and bend over and we can have some fun. What do you say?"
An indignant blush was rising to her usually pale cheeks. In as calm a voice as she could manage, she said, "There's only one way that I like dogs."
"That a fact? In what way?" Vegeta teased.
"Neutered," she said and brought her knee up between his legs as hard as she possibly could.
Following the elusive tendrils of Vegeta's faint ki, Piccolo and Tien said little between them as they concentrated on their mission. All during the flight, the Namek repeatedly tried to consult the portion of his mind where Kami resided but the ancient alien wasn't talking. Perhaps he was thinking like Tien at this point; that he should have left damn well enough alone and let the Saiyan stay dead. To hell with vague prophesies of the future.
The pair detected the alarming spikes of Vegeta's ki even before they could hear the wails of sirens in the city they were approaching. They slowed down and allowed their senses to lead them into the center of the district where smoke was billowing out of a crater in front of a shopping mall.
"Do you think Vegeta is still nearby?" Tien ventured.
"!!YOU NAILED ME IN THE FUCKING 'NADS, YOU BLOND BITCH!! I'LL KILL YOU!!"
"Yes," Piccolo responded, straight-faced.
The pair swiftly descended and regarded the grim sight of devastation that lay sprawled around them. There was no need to even make the attempt to search for survivors; this was Vegeta they were talking about, after all. Piccolo noticed Android 18 first and felt a tremor of unease worm its way into his gut. "What are you doing here?" He barked, desperately hoping that the Saiyan hadn't gained an ally.
Tucking her hair behind one ear, the female spared a cool glance in his direction. "I was keeping an eye on Krillin until Vegeta attacked the Look-Out. What's going on here?"
"Trunks?" Tien called out, noticing the familiar clothes on the individual who was doubled-over several meters away.
"That's not Trunks," Piccolo said quickly, recognizing the raven brows of the man who looked over at them. For some reason, the Saiyan had adopted the same clothing that his son from the future had worn during much of his stay. It was a hopeful sign that Vegeta was remembering snatches of his lost memories. How much more was struggling to free itself from the damage? The troubled Namek kept a keen eye on him but didn't interfere.
"Ohh, you- Miserable. Little. Cooze!" Vegeta coughed as he slowly managed to straighten up. His groin was a blinding ache of throbbing agony from the blonde's deliberate strike. It reminded him of another design flaw that this world's pathetic line of clothing failed to offer; groin shields like his previous armor. He'd been caught off-guard with a shot to the pills before, but there was something behind the strength of the woman's blow that suggested that there was more to her than just a fantastic body. A lot more. "I might have let you live before. Now all bets are off!"
"What's gotten into you?" 18 yelled at him. The information in her mental database informed her that a direct blow to the testicles should have proven completely incapacitating. Aside from stagger Vegeta for more then a few seconds, all it had succeeded in doing was royally piss him off. It wasn't a first time that Dr. Gero had provided her with incorrect information about the Saiyan. As usual, the timing in this instance was terrible.
"He's lost his memories of the last four years," Piccolo called out to her. "Be very careful, 18! This isn't a personality of Vegeta's that you've ever encountered before. He'll try to kill you!"
"Like you haven't tried that before," 18 sniffed.
Vegeta frowned at her. "We've fought?"
"Little man, I kicked your ass!"
The Saiyan adopted that maniacal grin as he crouched down into an attack posture. "By the time we're done here, I'll be screwing yours," he assured her. There was no time for rebuttal from anyone as he launched himself into the air.
Moving to the side to avoid the tackle, 18 was unprepared for the Saiyan's outraged advance. Vegeta grabbed firm hold of her legs and the pair went crashing through the side of the mall, shattering cinderblocks with the force of their collision. His initial suspicions that this female was no mere human were confirmed when it was plain that the impact didn't even rattle her. He lashed out with a blinding kick that 18 blocked and ducked as her arm swept around and embedded itself into the wall up to her elbow. Pushing himself from the floor, he nailed her midriff with both feet and she stumbled backwards into a greeting card rack, scattering the contents.
"Better pick out a bereavement card now," Vegeta was chuckling. "You're going to need it!"
Watching his posture for valuable clues, 18 rolled out of the way of a destructo disk that went slicing over her head and went at him with both fists glowing. She aimed a double ki blast point blank at his face and when the smoke cleared, her smug expression dissolved into one of surprise. Vegeta was unfazed by the attack and still wearing that infuriating smirk as he regarded her.
"Nice trick. Here's one of mine," he said and spread his arms and released a blast from either hand. 18 didn't understand the nature of the attack until both discharges curved around and slammed into her back, pushing her into his waiting arms. "What do you think of that one?" He asked, grazing his lips over hers while his hands restlessly groped her body.
"Bastard!" She hissed and tried to kick him again. This time he was prepared for it and gave her a backhand that sent her sliding down the aisle.
"I see that I'm going to have to wear you down a bit," he remarked as he walked confidently towards her. "Personally, I wouldn't have it any other way."
18's skin crawled at the cold snicker that followed the statement. On two different occasions she had witnessed the Saiyan in battle; once in opposition with her and the other against Cell. She was used to the never- ending arrogance that categorized his personality but this was a new side of him that she had never seen. He was actually having fun! During their first battle, he had been brimming with over-confidence and obviously inexperienced with his Super Saiyan form. She had made short work of him then. When he had encountered Cell, there had been a hint of that taunting side of him as he toyed with the incomplete android, beating him into humiliating submission. That dark humor was still there but it possessed an almost child-like glee with the destruction that he was causing. He seemed very young and very dangerous.
Piccolo was observing Vegeta as he fought and was drawing the same conclusions. He and Tien hovered off to the side as Saiyan and Android threw themselves at one another and began a series of lightening fast strikes and kicks. Their eyes could barely keep track of the pace of the frenzied combat. No quarter was spared for the other as they exchanged blows that were capable of denting steel. 18 managed to land a kick into Vegeta's side that knocked him off balance and she took advantage of that lapse in his defense. She pummeled his face and chest with a dozen blows in the span of less than a second and fired another ki blast that threw him the length of the mall.
Landing in the children's toy section, a display stand of Pokémon plush toys broke the Saiyan's fall. Sputtering curses under his breath, he barely got back to his feet before 18 flew into him again. She was pressing the advantage of surprise as she worked her way past weakening defenses, forcing him backwards. As outraged as she should have been for his crude advances, there was only one thought that entered her mind-
"Why hasn't he transformed into a Super Saiyan?" Tien spoke up. He and Piccolo were biding their time, looking for an opportunity to move in. "He's losing! Why hasn't he made the change?"
Piccolo's olive features betrayed more of that growing hope. "He doesn't know that he's managed the transformation! At this point in his memories, it's still all superstition and conjecture." He looked over at the human and Tien was surprised to see that the alien was actually smiling. "Vegeta's believes he's still in the same power range that he was four years ago. The rest of us have all surpassed that level. We may have a chance after all. If we work together, we can take him down ourselves!"
It was all that Tien needed to hear. "Right!"
He was losing! Vegeta couldn't believe it even as one small fist glanced off his forearm and connected with the side of his head while a dainty shoe impacted against his hip. The Prince of all Saiyans was getting his ass kicked by a potential piece of tail! With a roar of anger, he grabbed her leg as she was rounding on him for another kick, throwing her away as hard as he possibly could.
18 smashed up against the overhead fluorescents and hovered there for the moment. Breathing heavy, Vegeta didn't understand the reason for her hesitation until green arms slid up under his armpits and hoisted him off the ground. "Now Tien!" That three-eyed freak dropped down in front of him, grinning from ear to ear.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying this part," Tien remarked and plowed him square in the face with one huge glowing fist.
The Saiyan's world exploded into a kaleidoscope of whirling stars. Through burning eyes, he saw the huge human winding up for another blow and started twisting in Piccolo's grip. Holding onto him was like trying to wrestle with a wildcat and more than once, the Namek came close to losing his grip. He settled for a chokehold around Vegeta's neck, tightening as hard as he possibly dared while the smaller alien thrashed against him, gasping for air. "Calm down, Vegeta! If you'd just listen to reason, you'd see that all this fighting is pointless. Just hear us out for one minute!"
Piccolo's words were reduced to incomprehensible nonsense as the blood boiled in Vegeta's ears. Clawing at the arm around his neck, he continued his struggles until his air supply was cut off and blackness began closing in on his vision. There was something very familiar with this situation; he had endured this type of abuse before. If he could only just figure out how he had managed to get out of it, he'd be free-
His eyes snapped open and the turmoil around him was replaced by a barren landscape overshadowed by a pale green sky. There was still something around his neck, strangling him, but it wasn't an arm. It was a clammy, naked tail.
"My dear little monkey prince," Frieza purred into his ear. "You should know better than to defy me."
A thousand blows rained upon his back in the span of seconds. He could feel his spine shatter to pieces, his internal organs rupture. Oh yes, there had been a way to escape this chokehold. He even remembered how he had accomplished the feat...
He had died.
Vegeta slumped in Piccolo's grip at long last and the Namek was sure that he had finally blacked out. For a few seconds there, he had almost wormed himself free. Reluctant to release him, he felt for a pulse along the Saiyan's jawline and found one- rapid and strong. That wasn't the only thing; his flesh was growing hotter to the touch.
"Uh, Piccolo." Tien was stepping back as Vegeta's body began smoldering with glowing tendrils of energy.
Shouting out in pain, Piccolo had no choice but to release his grip when the Saiyan's power burned him. Vegeta pulled himself to his knees and wrapped his arms around his head. The fires of growing ki were shrouding his body and gaining in intensity by the second. "It can't be true- It can't! He killed me- !!FRIEZA KILLED ME!!"
"Everybody clear out!" Piccolo called to the others.
They didn't even have time to look for an exit when Vegeta threw his head back and screamed his rage and misery. An explosion of power radiated outwards that was like nothing any of them had ever encountered. It obliterated everything inanimate in its path like a solid wall of destruction and blew out every partition of the huge building in a soundless manifestation of god-like might. Even the ceiling was blasted upwards from the force of the display, with pieces raining down in neighborhoods several kilometers away.
Before unconsciousness claimed him, Piccolo opened his swollen eyes a crack and saw Vegeta kneeling in the center of the crater he had created. His short hair was a bright blond and his eyes were actually glowing a brilliant green with unrivaled power. He was staring at his hands in amazement and laughing in delight.
It's the beginning of the end, the Namek thought bleakly before he slumped face-first into the dirt.
Trunks eyes snapped open and he looked up at the ceiling and started wailing. Roused out of a sound sleep, Bulma realized that she had fallen asleep in the rocking chair beside the crib and was still holding the baby in her arms. As she tried to comfort him, she stole a glance at her watch and could barely believe what she saw. She had been asleep for over three hours!
Digging urgently into her pant's pocket for her vidphone, she wanted to call Krillin and find out if there was any news on Vegeta's condition. It was suspiciously missing and she submerged a frustrated exhale of breath, sensing her mother's interference. Her back rebelled when she got to her feet after having slept in such an uncomfortable position. She tried to put Trunks to bed but he wasn't having any of it, thrashing with renewed vigor and screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Shush, honey! Shhhhhhh, you'll wake up the entire house," she tried to sooth him to no avail.
"Daughter?"
Standing in the doorway, her father was looking in on her. Bulma immediately noticed the expression of dread on his face and the fact that he was still in his work clothes although it was almost one o'clock in the morning. Behind him, stood her mother and flanking the harried blond was Chi Chi, all looking equally distraught.
He died while I was sleeping, Bulma thought incoherently. Vegeta died and now they're coming to break the news... "D-daddy?" she whimpered, her blue eyes steadily widening in growing horror. "What's wrong? Is... it Vegeta?"
At the sound of his name, her mother started weeping which didn't help the situation. When Dr. Briefs hesitated, Chi Chi stepped inside and told her, "Vegeta's woken up."
"Oh, thank god! I thought-"
"It's not good news, Bulma," the brunette continued ruefully. "He's lost his memories of the last four years. His powers are back and he's determined to destroy the earth. Gohan just left with Krillin to try and stop him." Her own lips were a pale, rigid line of worry for her son. She knew what this grim situation meant just as much as Bulma did. The boy was speeding headlong towards a battle to the death. Very likely his own. There was little doubt that Chi Chi would have tried to stop the boy and her present frustration was as plain as her hatred of Vegeta.
There was no time for lamentations, not now. Adopting an expression carved out of stone, Bulma straightened her spine and asked, "Where's Yamcha?"
"Last I heard, he was heading for Jacques City," her father told him. "He's checking a lead that might reveal what happened to Vegeta during his disappearance."
"Of all the piss-poor timing," Bulma muttered under her breath. She needed the fighter's sense of ki to find out where the fighting was happening. Without it, she had no way of telling where Vegeta and the others were.
Or was there?
Standing up in his crib, Trunks was flailing his arms between the bars and howling. Walking over to him, Bulma picked the baby up and stared directly into his flushed face. "Trunks, listen to me," she said in a hard voice.
Blinking at the unusual tone, the boy ceased his cries and stared at her curiously.
"Can you sense Vegeta? Can you feel your father ki, Trunks?"
"Bulma! He's only a little baby!" Her mother scolded.
"A little half-Saiyan baby, you mean," Chi Chi told her, casting Bulma a questioning look. She knew what the other woman was trying to do but Trunks was only ten months old. Was he too young to understand?
Directing the intensity of her blue eyes solely on the boy's, Bulma continued, "Do you know where your father went? Can you tell me where Vegeta is? Please!"
Trunks' eyes widened in recognition of the Saiyan's name and his face betrayed a happy grin. Gurgling in excitement, he began waving a chubby fist northwards. "Vehta! VETA KI!"
"That's my boy," Bulma praised, pulling him in close for a well-deserved hug while the others looked on in amazement.
Vegeta was screaming again but it had nothing to do with getting laid or insignificant memories of his death. He was above such petty concerns now and his howls of accomplishment were the only means he could communicate his excitement.
His arms were raised skywards as he gathered an enormous ball of destructive ki and he threw it at the city below him, bathing in the cinders of incinerated buildings. The bright fires of the Super Saiyan transformation radiated off of his body in waves and he was drunk on the power that suffused every single pore of his being. No drug or beverage could compare with this! It eclipsed everything in his mind; even sex was no comparison to the sensations involved with wielding this much raw energy. He was a GOD!
His mad laughter rolled like thunder over the survivors of the city but they didn't have much time to dwell on it. With a flick of his fingers, Vegeta slaughtered them in their tracks. Another deadly barrage erased all signs that this had ever been a city at all. Only a smoldering crater, two kilometers wide, was testimony that anything had ever existed there.
Watching the smoke settle with grim satisfaction, Vegeta wasn't even breathing hard from the effort. In the back of his mind, with newfound awareness, he could sense pathetic beings rapidly approaching to try and stop him.
The wicked grin on his face only stretched wider from that knowledge. "Let them come," he said under his breath.
He crossed his arms and chose to wait, eager to show-off his incredible might.
------------------------------------------------------- If you want to be on the Mailing List, e-mail me at: darke_angelus@hotmail.com Or visit my web site at: www.angelfire.com/anime4/darkeside/home.htm -------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Fourteen: Vegeta's reign of terror continues! Who will be the person to vanquish him? Gohan?... Or a surprising ally?