Chapter 2

Vegeta successfully swayed Bulma into giving him senzu beans just by being somewhat polite to her. Sentimental wench. She thought she was turning him into just another member of Team Earth. She wanted him to become like Yamcha, Tenshinhan and Piccolo: domesticated.

What she didn't know was that it was all an act. Vegeta wasn't an idiot. Even though the vapid affairs of the Earthlings made him long to snap at them, or maybe just snap them, or at least leave, he knew it wouldn't get him anywhere. When he was working under Freeza, he got three death threats before breakfast and smiles without malice of some sort were non-existent. Promotions didn't come to those who were kind and pleasant to be around; they came to those who got results. In fact, ruthlessness was an asset.

On Earth, however, it was laughably easy for Vegeta to get anything he wanted. He just had to paste on a bland smile, hold his tongue, let them misinterpret his silence and boom, unlimited access to the gravity room. Oh, that gravity room. It might just be his ticket out of this dump.

But Vegeta hated playing human. He hated, hated, hated it. They were a fundamentally different species, and he couldn't believe how no one really seemed to understand that. He'd never been particularly attached to his people before, but now he'd take them over Earthlings any day. Real Saiyans, not Kakarrot. Anything even remotely Saiyan had been beaten out of that one long ago. Which is why Vegeta avoided them; he didn't want any of their soft, sniveling humanity rubbing off on him. The only thing that let him keep up this asinine façade was the knowledge that their destruction would be that much sweeter once he finally eradicated them off the face of this stinking planet.

The senzu beans let him finally cut loose and start his real training. It also marked the beginning of the hardest period in his life so far. It wasn't so much the crushing physical strain of the gravity. It was the solitude.

Throughout his entire life, Vegeta had loved being alone. Every so often, he would have a few hours or even days to himself where he wasn't needed by Freeza or busy with genocide. He would fantasize about the day when he grew strong enough to ignore Freeza's orders, when he would take his rightful place as the sovereign of the galaxy. Just thinking about it filled him with excitement. But now the only thoughts he had were painful. Vegeta was confined to his own personal hell, open for three solid years.

He knew this was his last chance. If he didn't ascend, that was it for him. He would never catch up to Kakarrot again. He couldn't conceive what he would do if that happened. The only reason Vegeta hadn't lost his mind already was because he knew that this was temporary... this lapse in the Saiyan hierarchy would sort itself out. But if he was wrong... if Kakarrot's power was here to stay... it would break him.

But it wasn't all about being the strongest. Vegeta didn't just crave absolute supremacy, he craved the fight itself. He wanted opponents stronger than him, just so he could push his limits. It was his Saiyan blood. He wanted to feel the rush of adrenaline that came with fighting a formidable opponent. But lately, he had been denied that pleasure. He had been terrified in his last few fights because his opponents were so hopelessly ahead of him that he didn't have a chance. Vegeta had stopped loving battle. What did that make him? Certainly not a Saiyan.

After defeating Kakarrot, Vegeta was going to finish everyone else off, he was going to steal a spaceship, and he was going to leave with an ocean of blood on his hands. There was a universe out there that had recently found itself without a ruler. He was going to fix that.

Soon there was nothing left of him but a seething mass of pent-up frustrations and desires. And one day, Vegeta just couldn't handle it anymore. He finally understood what would happen if he couldn't ascend. If he couldn't get up to Kakarrot's level, Vegeta couldn't fight anymore. And if he couldn't fight anymore, he would die. No matter the cause, it would happen. Vegeta wasn't built for failure. He couldn't handle it.

He didn't choose to die in peace, he chose to live in battle. He chose to live as a Saiyan.

After he straightened out his thoughts, it was ludicrously easy to ascend. The worst had come and gone. Even so, Vegeta's work wasn't over.

Ascending had barely used any of his time. Vegeta still had almost three years. Some people would have taken it easy, but he didn't even consider it. Leaving it at ascending was something his future self would do. The work was only beginning.

Vegeta practiced staying as a Super Saiyan for longer periods of time until he could spend an entire day in it. It was... bizarre. His attention span was almost non-existent and he was unusually manic. He'd grudgingly allowed Bulma to do a few tests. His brain was mass-producing adrenaline. He decided to put that particular feat on the back burner for now. Otherwise, he might accidentally kill Bulma or someone else of importance and his cover would be blown before he was ready.

Shortly after ascending, he knew that it wouldn't be a good idea to spend all day every day in the gravity room. It was taking longer and longer for his power level to rise. Vegeta sensed that he was starting to reach his limits and constant training would do more harm than good.

But it wasn't enough. Vegeta visited Capsule Corp.'s library and found some books on chi. He read up on Earth's philosophy, thinking he might discover the secret behind how Kakarrot and his friends were so adept at sensing it.

The martial artists of Earth believed that every living thing not only had an aura of power of its own, each aura was completely unique. The books compared it to a fingerprint. They said that with the proper understanding and focus, anyone should be able to distinguish between auras.

They also said that chi changed with emotions. While their power level stayed the same, people's chi flared with anger and shrank with depression. Now that was useful- if he mastered this technique, Vegeta would be able to read people's emotions. It would be even simpler to hide his vindictive intentions because he could just feel if anyone grew distrustful... hah.

Vegeta decided that, in order to practice telling different chi signatures apart and detect anomalies, he'd have to start spending more time with the residents of Capsule Corp. Unfortunately, there really wasn't any other way.

So he started going to meals. Before, he'd just eat in the kitchen after everyone left but now he sat at the table for the whole time, watching and listening.

At first Vegeta was certain that the experience would be hell, but it turned out to be surprisingly manageable. He just sat silently and ate his dinner, staring at his plate and pretending that he wasn't listening. But in reality, he was paying close attention to the conversation. Or, more accurately, the feeling behind the conversation.

After a few days of this, Vegeta started to notice a real difference in how he was sensing chi. With everyone at the table, their auras may as well have been lined up for him. Soon he could tell where everyone was seated with his eyes closed.

Vegeta also found out that Bulma didn't like her mother very much. It was interesting; whenever Mrs. Briefs had an opinion on Bulma's appearance or attitude, Bulma's chi would flare (anger) but her actual response was polite. Why? Why hide your emotions over something so inconsequential?

Vegeta tried to see it from her point of view. Considering Earthlings' frankly appalling sentimentality, Bulma probably felt obligated to be nice to her mother just because she had birthed and raised her. Vegeta couldn't understand it; Mrs. Briefs was a horrid wench and was near the top of his list of people to kill once he was stronger than Kakarrot. If his parents had been anything like Mrs. Briefs, Vegeta would have killed them long before Freeza came.

OoO

Lightning crashed outside the window just as Bulma was walking by with a mug of hot chocolate. She winced reflexively, picking up her pace. Yikes. She had hated storms ever since her father had told her about short-circuiting, and how lightning was drawn to metal. It had been raining then, too. Bulma hadn't been the same since. (Or so she claimed.)

Taking a cautious sip, Bulma put a hand on her waist and surveyed the hall. Where did she want to go? She was between brilliant inventions, which always made her feel listless, and the added thunderstorm made her downright depressed.

She was saved the trouble by the familiar sight of a house robot wheeling towards her.

"Dad?" she asked. Often her father, too tied up in his work to leave the lab, would send a robot to collect her. One of the great things about having two geniuses under the same roof was ready access to a different perspective that could still understand the calculus.

"No, mistress Bulma, you have a visitor," the robot said in its charming monotone.

Bulma's eyes rose at that. "Get out." Who could it be? Goku wouldn't bother to get a robot, he'd just go wandering off looking for her. Come to think of it, so would the rest of her friends. The community of scientist acquaintances would call her on the televideo. "Lead the way."

It was Lunch. Standing in the foyer, not looking a day older than when Bulma had last seen her. Which had been years ago!

"Lunch!" Bulma cried, hugging her and hiding her relief at Lunch's dark hair.

"Hi, Bulma," Lunch said, looking around with wide eyes.

"Come in, come in," Bulma said, ushering Lunch out of her rain coat and towards the nearest living room. "I'll get you something hot and we can talk." She paused. "Oh, and I'm gonna need you to hand over any firearms that you find on your person. You'll get them back when you leave."

Later, in front of a glowing fireplace, Bulma and Lunch sat in silence. Each had hot chocolate.

"... So..." Bulma ventured. "What brings you here?"

"Hm?" Lunch looked up. "Oh, something, I'm sure. I just don't remember." She went back to staring at the fire.

"I see." Bulma took a breath. Then she changed the subject. "You still look cold. How long were you out in the rain? Maybe you're coming down with something."

"Gosh, I hope not!" Lunch's big eyes sparkled with worry. "Now that you mention it, I do feel a little... a... ah... ACHOO!"

Suddenly, Lunch's hair was golden blonde. Her eyes narrowed and darted around the room, taking in her surroundings. They landed on Bulma and she visibly relaxed. "Oh, it's just you." She took a deep drink from her mug. "Thanks. Though it could use something a little stronger, if you ask me." As she set it down, she stiffened. Almost like a twitch, her hands patted her pockets. "Where are my guns?" she asked through gritted teeth.

Bulma took a breath. Oh boy. "I confiscated them. Not all your friends are immune to bullets, you know."

"Yeah? Well give 'em back," Lunch glared. "I don't like being without 'em."

"I will when you leave," Bulma said. "And just so you know, there's about a hundred robots on this premises that are stronger than you, so if you try anything they will break your arms." She couldn't take any chances. Lunch was a dangerous character.

"Relax." Lunch kicked her feet up on the coffee table, nearly knocking over her hot chocolate. "I didn't come here to pick a fight."

"Why did you come here?" Bulma asked curiously. She had barely spoken to Lunch when they were in with the same crowd.

"Tenshinhan," Lunch said. "I've been lookin' for him for years, and I've finally decided that I can't find him myself." She smiled mysteriously. "He's a slippery one."

"Why me, though?" Bulma was mystified. She had talked to Tenshinhan less than Lunch.

"I already asked Roshi," Lunch explained. "He didn't know nothin'. Kinda dumb, if you ask me. Wasn't he Ten's old master?"

"Tenshinhan's master was Kame Sen'nin's rival, the Crane master."

"Oh. Still." Lunch paused to pick up her hot chocolate. "Anyway, he couldn't tell me anything, so I thought... well, you seemed like a smart girl, so I thought I'd try you next. You didn't seem as lame as the rest of those dorks, at least."

"Hmm." In spite of herself, Bulma couldn't help but feel proud that she had made such an impression on Lunch. "Well, the last time I saw Ten was about... wow, it must've been a year ago now. I don't really know what to tell you... we weren't close..."

The disappointment on Lunch's face was so obvious that Bulma backtracked, not so much out of guilt as for fear for her safety.

"I-I mean, I could ask around and see if anyone's heard anything from him. And if I run into him again, I'll tell him you're looking for him."

"You will?" Lunch perked up. "Aww, thanks. That's sweet of you."

"Just give me your phone number, and I'll call you if I hear anything. Sound good?"

"Sure. Can I have my guns back now?"

On the way out the door, they ran into Vegeta, carrying a leather backpack and dressed warmly in a thick wool-lined jacket, gloves and boots.

"Where're you off to?" Bulma asked him.

"The Snowy Mountains." Vegeta didn't pause and he didn't look at Bulma. He just kept going.

"Wait, Vegeta!" Bulma cried, chasing after him and pulling Lunch along with her. "I have someone for you to meet."

"Who? Your latest therapist?" Vegeta asked, turning.

Bulma went red. "What? No!" she spluttered. "And that's massage therapist." To her embarrassment, Lunch was smirking. Bulma put a hand to her forehead. What was wrong with them? She was just trying to be nice! "Just... look, this is Lunch. She likes shooting stuff and stealing things and unmitigated violence. I'm sure you two have a lot in common."

After looking him over, Lunch extended a hand. Vegeta stared at her blankly. His eyes flicked to her hand and then back to her face. He shook her hand. His grip was firm. Then he began to walk down the hallway again.

"You could at least introduce yourself!" Bulma yelled after him.

"I have better things to do than to appease your need for etiquette," he said over her shoulder. "Like saving the Earth, for example..."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure taking a nap in the snow counts as saving the world!"

"I'm not wasting my time arguing the importance of meditation with you." Vegeta paused at the door out of Capsule Corp. to rip off his jacket and gloves, tossing them carelessly behind him.

"What are you doing?" groaned Bulma in exasperation.

"I don't need them. I made the mistake of telling your mother where I was going... she insisted that I... 'bundle up'. Hmph. They would have been detrimental to my training. You know better than anyone that the best way to placate that woman is to just give in until you're out of her sight."

Bulma sighed. "Okay, but can't you do something with them? I know we have robots, but that doesn't mean you can just-" The door slammed. "...do that."

She glanced at Lunch, who was staring at the door Vegeta had just left. "... Sorry about that. He can be difficult sometimes."

"Who... was that?" Lunch asked reverently.

"Vegeta. He tried to destroy Earth a while back... and somehow ended up living here," Bulma said, conveniently forgetting that she had been the one who insisted on it. "Oh, he acts grumpy but really he's okay."

"Really." Lunch couldn't forget the look in his eyes when he had shaken her hand. He didn't look grumpy, he looked sly. Like he was hiding something. She bet her guns he wasn't just another goodie-two shoes. He looked interesting.

Even though she wasn't any close to her goal, Lunch left Capsule Corp. with a feeling of coming out from the rain. Maybe... if I can't find Tenshinhan, maybe Vegeta would do.

OoO

After one and a half years, Vegeta's patience ran out. He'd learned enough about sensing chi; it was time to move on.

So he pulled Bulma aside and requested her help with some research. Vegeta was a bit wary, he'd noticed how he was starting to warm to her and wasn't sure if he had broken free of his timeline yet, but he knew it was the best course of action. Vegeta wanted to see just how fond she was of him, and he really could use her help. He had decided to read up on androids.

OoO

"This is the best one." Bulma slammed a hardcover book on the table. She had tried to place it down lightly but the book was so massive that she lost her grip.

Vegeta looked up from his notes with interest. "So you finally found it?"

"Sure did." Bulma wiped away a layer of dust off the cover. "The ultimate book on robotics. Eleventh edition with contributions from every great scientist of this century, including Dr. Gero."

"The one who's going to build the androids."

"Right." Bulma took a seat next to him. "So what exactly are we looking for?"

"Recent advances. Tell me how sophisticated the technology is right now and its potential."

"What does this have to do with fighting them?" Bulma was curious.

Vegeta shrugged. "Who knows?" he said, smiling ambiguously. "Maybe something helpful will turn up. In any case, we need every advantage we can get."

Bulma nodded and turned the pages with a delicate, almost caring touch. "Right, I guess here's the best place to start. There's two main kinds of bipedal androids: Total Artificial Construct Types and cyborgs. The biggest difference between the two is that T.A. are fully mechanical... cyborgs are built using a human base."

"And which one is superior?" Vegeta asked.

"That's up for debate. Since cyborgs were originally alive, it's a lot easier to program them to think independently," Bulma explained, "but the process of grafting biological matter to hardware is really time-consuming and easy to flub. And even if you manage to do it, since the android used to be alive... there's a chance it might..." Bulma cut herself off, shifting uncomfortably.

"Well?" Vegeta demanded after a few seconds. "A chance it might what? Out with it!"

Bulma looked faintly embarrassed. "Sorry, it's just a bit of an urban legend among the scientists and it creeps me out. There's this story about someone who tried to make five cyborgs at once. He did it... but when they woke up they were completely self aware."

"What happened?" Vegeta asked.

Bulma fidgeted. "Three of them just started destroying his lab. One turned to the scientist and strangled him. And one just stood in the middle of the room and screamed."

Vegeta frowned. "The scientist was killed?"

"Yeah."

"Then how did anyone hear about this?

"He had security cameras in the room. Apparently, they got the whole thing. The government swooped in and stole the tapes, saying they were classified, but the story got leaked."

Bulma was obviously disturbed by this legend but Vegeta's interest was already dwindling. Maybe you had to be a scientist to truly grasp the horror. Or maybe you just had to be too weak to defend yourself if your creations ever turned on you. It sounded more like a parable anyways.

"... Getting back on topic, what about Gero?" Vegeta leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "What was his preferred type? Androids or cyborgs?"

"I'm not too sure..." Bulma muttered, flipping through the book. "All of his creations were pure androids but the most recent paper he published was on something called an 'Infinite Energy Drive'..." Her eyes widened as she scanned paragraphs of text. "... Oh my god."

"What?" Vegeta tried to read the book over Bulma's shoulder but it was written in scientific bunk so he just waited for her translation.

"Don't fight these things." Bulma shook her head. "Don't even try. I don't know how strong that Freeza guy was but if Dr. Gero succeeds in making an infinite energy drive... the androids could have as much potential energy as the sun. And robots don't get tired or hurt. Please don't fight them. It'll be a death sentence."

But Vegeta was barely listening. His heart had already kicked up a notch at "Infinite Energy Drive" and he could barely suppress the grin that was threatening to betray his excitement. They didn't get tired or hurt? He'd focus on his endurance and strength training. And what about chi? The philosophy was that all living things gave off a certain amount of energy but mechanical ones? Vegeta wasn't too sure. He made a mental note to not rely on sensing chi too much. He could already tell that becoming too reliant on sensing chi could be a problem... he must not neglect his eyesight.

So even as Bulma decided with finality that the robots were too strong and all was lost, Vegeta's mind was bursting with new ideas for his regimen.

Infinite energy, eh? Bring it on.