A/N: Again thanks a lot for the reviews you've left! It's really great to see that people out there still read and like this story and that I even seem to win new readers (Hi Gosha! First time reading my fic and already the 200th reviewer!) Yep, we passed the 200! You guys are the best!

Now to answer your questions:

Jill, you're right. Even though PotC didn't exist, when I started this story, I now get some inspiration from the movie, because it is just one of the best movies I've ever seen! I just love Johnny Depp in this one. CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow… And then of course dear Orlando. Sigh…

AnGel-LuVeR-StEpH: The androids saga is already mentioned and dealt with in this story… But maybe there'll be a sequel someday with Buu. I already have a general idea about this story, but I simply don't have time for this now. There are other stories that I have to finish first, before I can work on a story line for the sequel.

I also see that some of you were a bit ... well … surprised maybe?... that Hercule was the one to actually kill Frieza. Well, that's how it is, btw this was necessary for the sequel, if I ever write it.

No more questions? Well, just keep in mind that I always love getting reviews! And now, have fun!

Chapter 41: The Treasure of Power

Dende's grin got only wider, when he noticed the eyes of every person in this clearing on him. He had thought long and hard about it, whether he should tell them and, if he decided to do so, when. It would have been hard for them to accept the truth, when they only possessed one of the spheres. However, Son Goku was back now and with him he had brought the missing six Dragonballs. He no longer needed to keep the truth from them.

"I believe now is the time to tell you the secret of the spheres that you call The Treasure of Power," he began.

Whereas only a few minutes before, everyone had been eager to listen to Goku's tale, Dende now had their rapt attention. It was already late, but none of them showed a sign of fatigue; even Gohan was looking at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to continue.

"As maybe some of you already know, the seven spheres were made by my and therefore the Eldest's ancestors more than a thousand years ago, with only chosen ones, mainly the Eldests and their guards, having the knowledge about the secret power the spheres possess. At the beginning, they had been handed down from generation to generation, always from one Eldest to his successor. They were barely used, only in truly dire times for my people and even then, never for dark purposes.

"But then, about three hundred years after they had been created, one guard proved to be unfaithful to his Eldest. He relayed the secret of the Dragonballs to scoundrels he had met in an inn on one of the travels that he had accompanied the Eldest on. They had heard of a magnificent treasure that our people possessed and promised him much gold, if he told them the secret of the treasure. Greed, as it was in the guard's nature – he had already gotten into trouble for this trait before, but the Eldest of this time had trusted him unconditionally – made him break his vow to never tell anyone about the Dragonballs. The scoundrels were fascinated by this tale and, in the end, thanked him, not by giving him the promised gold, but by slitting his throat in a dark alley.

"Word of this betrayal hadn't reached the Nameks until long after his death, when suddenly on a winter's night a stranger appeared in the village where the Eldest lived. As it was, the scoundrels had taken to boasting that they would soon possess a great treasure, a treasure with tremendous power. Many people didn't believe them, but one man did. He was a traveler, a treasure hunter, garbed in expensive clothes, from a far away country. He drew the secret out of them with the help of cheap wine and willing women. The scoundrels were found the next morning, close to the tavern, dead, poisoned and the mysterious man, who had been seen in their company, had disappeared.

"This stranger, who only went by the name Hunter…"

"I've heard of him," Goku mumbled thoughtfully, but gave Dende a quick apologizing smile and motioned for him to continue.

"He was the one who had come to the village, demanding to meet the Eldest. No one knows exactly, what has happened, after the Eldest had invited him into his home. Only the tale of how Hunter had come to know about the Dragonballs was discovered by a boy, who had listened in on the conversation, as he had passed the door of the Eldest's room. The stranger heard the boy, however, and threatened and sent him away. The boy, scared, immediately informed one of the guards, but as they came to the room, they only found the body of the Eldest, who had been killed by a knife to the heart, and the stranger and all seven of the spheres gone.

"It was a great shock for our people, to have lost something of their ancestors, though they didn't know of the true meaning of this. Warriors were sent out to find Hunter and to take the spheres from him, traveling to countries far away from their home. It took years, but they finally found him. By that time he had lost everything, his treasures, his riches, his pride and dignity. He was living in the streets of a large town, of begging and rats. He had never found out how to use the Dragonballs, much to the Nameks' relief, but they weren't in his possession anymore. This lost had been his doom, as he had spent every waking moment since obtaining them to find out how they were used.

"During an interrogation Hunter confessed that the spheres had been taken from him a year prior, by thieves who had heard of the power of the spheres. Surely, not even Hunter could keep a secret, if he was drunk, so the tale of the seven magical spheres had traveled far by the time the Nameks had caught him. The warriors let him go, despite everything, but it was rumored that he died only a few weeks later.

"When they returned to Namek, the current Eldest decided that it was time for desperate measures and instructed the Nameks with the most magical potential to create something that would help them to find the missing spheres."

"The maps!" Gohan exclaimed. "They created the maps, didn't they?"

Dende smiled at his friend and nodded. "Years later, it is said that they needed about fifty years to finish their creation, they presented him the three magical maps and the hunt began anew. But this time the warriors that were sent out had to face more obstacles and problems, because while the maps had been created, the tale of the spheres had spread further around the world. Many people knew of them and many wars were fought over them. Lords and Kings that desired more power sent people to war, only to gain the spheres. They believed that possessing them alone would empower them, but they were wrong. It mostly brought them death, as they couldn't defend themselves against other kingdoms desiring the same, due to the losses they had suffered to gain the spheres in the first place."

"I apologize for interrupting you," Bardock said, curiously, "but I never knew that the Nameks had an army large enough to fight a full-out-war."

"That's because they didn't," the small Namek informed him. "Slowly, one by one the warriors of my people took back what had been taken from them. They used stealth, the power of persuasion and sometimes even a bit of magic. Then, after they had gathered all seven spheres, the Eldest ordered that they and the maps were spread and hidden all over the world to avoid something like this from happening ever again, even though they would never be able to use them anymore. He said it had been foolish to keep all seven Dragonballs at one place, even if others didn't know how to use them. And so six warriors set out to different parts of the world and one returned with one Dragonball and one map to Namek.

"Since then, people have kept looking for the spheres, but the more time passed the more the true tale of the Dragonballs was forgotten. Less and less people began looking for them and no more wars were fought over the seven spheres. The tale passed into legend. For hundreds of years, no one had found one of them or one of the maps…"

"Until Vegeta turned up," Yamcha said with contempt.

Dende just wanted to nod again, when Goku suddenly contradicted him, "That's not true. My grandfather must have found one of the maps and the four stars Dragonball on one of his missions or travels, because I was in possession of them ever after he died. And this was years before Vegeta turned up."

"Over the years, the Eldest and his guards have kept an eye on the map," Dende explained, "but as long as they didn't see more than one sphere at one place, they weren't worried, even if it moved. Unfortunately, this duty had been neglected in the past years, so we also didn't notice that our map was missing, otherwise none of this," he motioned with his hand around the clearing, "would have happened."

Silence fell over the group. They were surprised to hear that Dende blaming his own people for this disaster, at least partly. Most of them would agree that it wasn't the fault of the Nameks, but of those who had unearthed this legend and believed its content, like Frieza and Vegeta. Even if the Nameks had noticed that someone was collecting the Dragonballs, they wouldn't have been able to do anything to stop him.

Gohan looked at Dende, interested. This tale was truly fascinating and he couldn't wait to look up this Hunter in his books at home. If his father had heard of him, he truly must have been famous at one time. But at the same time the tale was a bit sad. The Nameks had been forced to give up a large part of their history, just because one of them had been driven by greed and betrayed their biggest secret. This Namek was responsible for hundreds, if not thousands of deaths, but he had paid for it.

On the other hand, Gohan believed that it was rather unlikely that the Nameks would have been able to keep the Dragonballs' secret forever. Someday, someone would have found out the truth, with similar consequences.

Suddenly he narrowed his eyes. Dende had given them an overview of the history of the Dragonballs, but he hadn't told them what exactly they could do.

The others seemed to have similar thoughts, as ChiChi now said, "But you didn't tell us why we shouldn't worry about Bulma's death. I mean, this tale was rather interesting, but she's still dead."

"That's right," Piccolo threw in. "Most of what Dende told us I knew already, but the secret of the Dragonballs is still a mystery to all of us, even me. Though I already have a suspicion. Dende, if you'd please enlighten us."

"Of course," Dende replied smiling. "You see, the power that the Dragonball possess is the power of wishes."

His declaration was met with stunned silence, at first. But then, from one second to another, they all began to talk at once, demanding explanations or asking further questions. He threw Piccolo, who had remained silent, a helpless look, but the older Namek only smirked at him. It was Dende's problem to deal with them; the Eldest had chosen him to accompany Son Goku and his crew and to tell them about the Dragonballs once the time was right.

The quietest voice of all of them hushed them quickly and all heads turned to the young black haired boy, who was sitting on his father's lap. His gaze had been directed at the ground, when he had mumbled, "So you can bring her back." What had surprised them most at this moment was probably not the fact that Gohan had spoken at all, but that it had been a statement, not a question. Now, with every eye on him, the boy winced slightly and blushed, as he repeated, this time looking at the other boy, "The Dragonballs can bring Bulma back. You can wish her back to life."

"Is this true, Dende?" Goku wanted to know, not daring to hope. If the power of the Dragonballs really was this great, then it was no wonder that many men had fought over them. Also, it would lessen his guilt greatly, if they brought Bulma back to life. Because then, in the end, his failure hadn't been as great as he had thought.

"It is true." Three simple words. Three simple words that ignited new hope in their hearts, as they realized that their friend wasn't lost.

"How do we do this?" Yamcha now asked eagerly. "And when?"

"I need to speak the wish in our old tongue," he explained quickly. "There are only few left who speak it and I'm one of them. And we could do it now, if you wish. It might even be better, because the sky darkens when I call upon the power."

Piccolo and Goku looked at him, concerned, and Goku asked, "Are you strong enough to do this? We could also wait until tomorrow, when we are all well rested."

"I don't need much strength, don't worry, Son Goku." The young Namek smiled at him reassuringly and gratefully took the last sphere that Krillin was handing him now, placing it next to the other six Dragonballs. At once, as if knowing that they were reunited, the spheres emanated a soft orange glow. "It won't exhaust me to wish your friend back to life."

"Dende," Krillin said, gazing at his friends somewhat nervously and scratched the back of his bald head. "Would it be possible to… to formulate the wish differently? Like, maybe… You wish everyone who had been killed by Frieza and his men back to life? This would also include, I don't know, maybe villagers and the Saiyajins that he had killed so many years ago…"

"Like the old man on Ginger Island," Tenshinhan mumbled thoughtfully, as he remembered the gruesome murder that he hadn't been able to prevent.

"And him!" Yamcha spat spiteful and he jerked his head to the second body in the clearing.

When he had thought that the others would tell Dende now to wish only Bulma back to life, he had been mistaken. Too many other innocent people had lost their lives to Frieza and his men. It didn't matter to them, if there was one or maybe some more pirates among the victims. In the end, they would do the right thing to save everyone.

Dende appeared to be deep in thoughts for a moment, before he eventually bobbed his head once in consent. "It might work, but with restrictions. The Dragonballs can only bring people back to life who have been dead for less than a year, so the Saiyajins will remain dead."

Bardock, who had looked hopeful for a split second, just mumbled, "Maybe it is better this way." He smiled, when Goku put a hand on his shoulder. It really was better that they stayed dead. The last reputation of the Saiyajins wasn't a good one, as they had mostly lived of piracy in the name of Frieza. There hadn't been many who had dared to rebel against him, but still, it would have been nice to have been reunited with his crew. A low chuckle escaped his lips. He wondered, what they would have said. He had aged twenty-five years, while they probably had stayed as young as they were when they had died.

"We should do something about him, first," Tenshinhan suggested, understanding Yamcha's reasons only all too well, as he walked over to Vegeta. He was a pirate and had killed many innocents – they just couldn't let him go, just because he had fought with them against Frieza. "Bind his hands maybe. We could use some liana…" But when he looked around and found none, he got another idea. He unwrapped his red linen-belt and crouched down next to the dead Saiyajin. "Or a belt. This should keep him in check, at least for now, until we come across a rope."

"Good work," Goku complimented him, but added, "Even if something happens, I can keep him in check. Well then, Dende, what do you need?"

"Just some space."

Obediently, they stepped back and Yamcha went over to Tenshinhan, who was standing guard over Vegeta. He wanted Bulma to see a familiar face, when she woke up and not some dark sky and leaves. Grinning, Yamcha crouched down next to her and cradled her head in his lap. He still couldn't believe that in only a moment she would wake up. Wake up from the dead! Wiping a strand of hair out of her face, he wondered what her reaction might be. Maybe she started yelling at them for taking so long, or maybe she would get a good look at her dress and start complaining about bloodstains.

Dende moved the spheres to put a few more feet between himself and the fire and raised his hands to the sky. Before he even mumbled the first word, the glow of the Dragonballs intensified tenfold, almost blinding them. Then the first words fell, though no one but Dende, and maybe Piccolo, understood what he was saying. Dark clouds appeared at the sky, blocking out the light of the moon and the stars. Somewhere in the distance the sound of thunder could be heard. The wind picked up. The flames of their campfire rose higher into the sky and the mumbled words in the old language were carried away.

Then, from one moment to another, after a deafening yell from the young Namek, the clouds were gone, the air was still and the campfire back to normal. The boy was panting hard and slumped to the ground. Piccolo was immediately at his side and eased him into a more comfortable position. The Dragonballs had lost their glowing orange color and looked now grey, like stone. The others, however, didn't say anything about this phenomenon, if they noticed it, because their expectant eyes were directed at Dende, inquiring if it had worked.

Their question was answered, when Yamcha suddenly exclaimed, "Bulma!" and they saw the sailor hugging her tightly. "It worked! You're back!"

Bulma blinked in confusion, when she felt herself squeezed against a hard chest and heard Yamcha's voice. What happened? It felt as if she had awoken from a deep sleep, but where was she? Something was wrong, or rather, different, she just knew it. A small detail was obviously escaping her. Why was Yamcha so overjoyed at seeing her again, if she had only been asleep? You're back! Back? Back from where? Or what?

Anger. Frieza. Pain. Dust. More pain. A flash. Blood. Nothing.

Her hand began to tremble, as she carefully felt her neck. There was nothing there, just smooth skin. But she remembered, Frieza had killed her! Right after…

"Vegeta!" she cried and pushed Yamcha off her. Her head whirled around, only fleetingly taking in the faces of the others, when she spotted him lying next to her. She scrambled over to him and almost wept in relief, when she saw the heaving of his chest and his dark eyes staring at the sky. A large smile spread over her face and her vision became blurry. She didn't dare to touch him, out of fear that he would just disappear. "You're alive! God! You're alive!"

Vegeta's eyes were unfocused, gazing around bewildered. Where was he? This was not Frieza's courtyard and yet, his last memory told him that he had been there. And that Frieza had killed him. Never would he forget the immense pain, until death had finally released him. He blinked a few times and then, suddenly, his eyes landed on Bulma, who was smiling at him with tears in her eyes. His first reaction would have been to reach up to touch her face, but he couldn't remove his hands from underneath his body. They were bound. "Woman… what…?" he croaked.

It was at this moment, that he noticed other people gathering around them. "Welcome back to the living," the small bald sailor, who he had already seen during the fight against Cell, quipped. Vegeta squinted against the darkness and believed he recognized some of them. Most of them were part of Kakarotto's crew and of the others he had only gotten a glimpse during the battle. Only one of them truly aroused his curiosity – the older man who looked remarkably like Kakarotto. He seemed familiar, somehow. A long forgotten memory battled its way to surface, but Vegeta was distracted from him, when another of them spoke.

"We wished you back," Yamcha clarified Krillin's greeting, too stunned that Bulma had dismissed him so quickly, to say anything against the proximity of her and the pirate. "From the dead. Well, Dende did, with the Dragonballs."

"Dragonballs?" Bulma frowned thoughtfully, still trying to get a grip on the fact that she should have been dead. Her memories of what had happened after Vegeta had died were a bit blurry, but the fact that Vegeta was alive as well had to mean something. Actually, if someone had told her that she would be wished back after having died, she would have imagined to be a bit more confused. Instead, her head was clear, almost as if she really had just been asleep. "Oh, you mean the Treasure of Power!"

"What about Frieza?" Vegeta now demanded to know, from his highly uncomfortable position on the ground. How he had come back to life was unimportant at the moment, if the Beast might just kill them all over again, when he found them. They couldn't run forever.

"That's a good question," Bulma agreed as she stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. "Where is he? I still have a bone to pick with him."

Goku grinned, overjoyed that his friend was truly back, and not, as he had momentarily feared, just a shadow of her former self. This woman in front of him was truly Bulma. His gaze wandered first to her and then to his men, as if asking them, who should break the news that there was no bone to pick anymore. However, as no one seemed to be willing to do this, he only shrugged. "Frieza's dead." Upon the astonished look on her face, he continued, "I killed him."

"That's impossible," Vegeta, who had in the meantime managed to get into a sitting position, muttered. "The legend says that only—"

"The Legendary can defeat the Beast," Krillin said, waving his hand dismissively, and grinned. It was a wonder what the resurrection of a friend could do to lighten the mood, so that it was even possible to interrupt and taunt someone that they had every reason to fear. "Yeah, we know that. But seeing as Son Goku is in fact this legendary warrior, it's by all means possible."

"You!" Enraged by this sudden revelation that, as it seemed, his destiny had been fulfilled by not one, but two third class Saiyajins, Vegeta jumped to his feet and, while trying to wriggle his hands out of their bounds, lunged at the younger Saiyajin. However, he was thrown back, when Yamcha stepped in and hit him in the face. Vegeta skidded over the rough ground, tearing his clothes and grazing the skin on his arms and back, but he didn't let a single sound pass his lips.

"What was that for?" Bulma yelled, as she walked between Vegeta and Yamcha. Both men flinched slightly, as they knew that she was talking to both of them. "Vegeta! I forbid you to attack my friends! And Yamcha, and everyone else here, I forbid you to attack my lover!" The words were out of her mouth before she knew it and, not for the first time that night, the group was shocked into speechlessness.

"Y-you're not serious, Bulma," Yamcha stuttered eventually and took a step towards her. "Y-you're just tired and in shock… You don't know what you're saying. Honestly, this pirate, your lover? This is insane!"

By the time that Yamcha had finished, Bulma had also regained her composure. Her eyes blazed in annoyance and, stemming her hands on her hips, she simply said, "Thank you for calling me crazy, Yamcha. I'm glad that you know me so well. What would I do without you?" The sarcasm wasn't lost to anyone, and they watched the furious Bulma walking up to him and shoving her finger against his chest. "Vegeta saved my life! Twice, maybe even more! That's much more than you have ever done!"

"What?" Yamcha didn't believe this, now staring at her as if she had truly lost her mind. "We tried to save you, from him! In case you've forgotten, he kidnapped you!"

"Yamcha, this is enough," Goku intervened, before things got out of control. He knew Bulma's temper only too well to know that it was unlikely that she would just step back, if she was challenged in any way. And he also knew how deeply Yamcha loathed this pirate and liked, maybe even loved, Bulma. His reaction was only normal considering the circumstances. Even he, who only loved Bulma as a friend, was still in denial about her words. Although he somehow felt that Bulma meant what she had said about her feelings for the pirate, after having first witnessed how they had acted, when he had been dying and then again, now, after their resurrection. "You, too, Bulma." Bulma huffed and turned away from Yamcha, putting some distance between them, while doing so. "If you want to fight, all right, but not now and not here. We need to get off this island first and, before anyone disagrees with me, Vegeta's coming with us. As prisoner mind you," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Several protests reached his ears immediately, the loudest of them being Bulma and Yamcha, though they were opposing to different things, but Goku only shook his head. There was more than one reason why he wanted to take Vegeta with him.

One was certainly that he needed to be put on trial for the crimes he had committed, even after everything he had heard about him and seen with his own eyes. This was not the same Vegeta, who had come to the Western Capitol so many weeks ago. The others might not see the changes in him; they were subtle, but they were there. Goku could see it in his eyes, but he was forced to abide the law and turn Vegeta over to Lord Briefs' soldiers, no matter how much he hated it. He was known to give people second chances and he would give Vegeta one, if just for Bulma's sake, if the situation were different.

The other reason was actually as simple and at least as logical as the first one and Goku explained it quickly to his doubting friends. "We still need a ship and we certainly don't have enough gold to buy passage for all of us on a merchant ship or another one. But I already have an idea, how we can avoid this, and I'm sure that Vegeta might be willing to help us, maybe even without persuasion." He grinned at Vegeta, who was now looking at him defiantly, already guessing what his role in this game was. "He just needs to tell us, where his ship usually makes berth, as I'm sure that it isn't the harbor."

Vegeta blinked and then began to laugh, almost maniacally. He spluttered, as he tried to regain his composure. This was the most hilarious thing he had heard in a long time. Ignoring the pain in his arms, he struggled again into a sitting position and spat to the ground. "You really expect me to help you! Now, this is insane! I'd rather die than surrender my ship!" A ship that he had already lost once, but they didn't need to know that. Most of his mutinous crew was most likely dead by now anyway, so that it should actually be easy to reclaim it.

"I believe this can be arranged," Yamcha said calmly and took a step towards him. Goku placed a hand on his chest, shaking his head.

Goku sighed and walked up to Vegeta, sitting down in across of him. He slightly leaned forward and whispered, so that the others wouldn't hear what he was saying, "Vegeta, this is your chance, your chance to redeem yourself. If you help us now, I'll talk to Lord Briefs and tell him how you helped us, not just now, but also in the fights against Frieza and Cell."

Vegeta snorted and turned his head away, not wanting to face him any longer. But Goku didn't appear disheartened, as he just kept on.

"This small act might save your life, Vegeta. Even if you don't want to do it for me, my crew or even for yourself, do it for Bulma."

Now, Vegeta was again looking at him and Goku smiled genuinely, seeing that the prince really seemed to care about her. He really wondered, what had happened on Vegeta's ship between them, that they now were so close and, as Bulma had already said, even lovers.

"She's been separated from her home for so long already and had to go through so much. You said it yourself that you were sorry to have put her through this. Using your ship might be the fastest way to get her home and I also think that she would be eternally grateful, if you helped us." Much to Vegeta's surprise, Goku got up and crouched down behind him, and, ignoring the stunned gasps of his friends, loosed the bonds around his wrists, before he appeared again in front of him and held out his hand. "So, what say you?"

Absentmindedly rubbing his wrists, Vegeta stared at the hand for long seconds, still not believing that this sailor was such a trusting fool to believe that he wouldn't attempt to flee now. But would he really? His eyes flickered to the woman, who was standing a few yards behind him, looking somewhat worried and curious. What would she think, if he fled now? Accuse him of cowardice, maybe? No, he wasn't a coward. He would stay and face whatever they might throw at him. Even if it was death. His death was much more preferable to the cursed and lone life of a fugitive, for both of them.

Goku was still smiling at him, expectantly, and, eventually, Vegeta got to his feet and grabbed his hand in a firm grip. "Aye."

No Shenlong, sorry, but he really wouldn't have fitted into this story…