Weeks past, perhaps months. Bardock had lost all sense of time. He was focused on one thing; training. He had to become strong enough to defeat Frieza. That was the only way he would get Sona back. Of course, Frieza wasn't going to bother showing courage or correctness. He would attack unannounced.
The others were strengthening themselves, too. It wasn't until Frieza's first attack that they had finally grasped the magnitude of the situation. How could they? Only a handful of them had believed him the first time. Now they all had solid proof. Frieza was not playing around. He wanted the Saiyans gone and he would do anything it took to accomplish that goal.
Sona was bruised and aching. She was fortunate to share a cell with Cerorai, who knew a bit about healing. However, the conditions were so bad that there wasn't much she could do to ease Sona's pain. Sona wasn't even able to fully heal and increase her strength. All she could do was suffer.
Frieza had made torturing her a hobby. He wanted information from her; he wanted information that she would never hand him in a million years. It didn't appear to bother him that she kept this information from him. In fact, it seemed as though he enjoyed watching her suffer more than anything. When Frieza was in a foul mood, Sona was sent for immediately.
The door to their dark room slid open. Sona's heart sank. She had come to hate that sound, knowing that it was usually for her. She heard loud footsteps coming closer to her cell. She shut her eyes tightly, not wanting to open them and see Zarbon.
"I have good news," came a welcome voice. Sona opened her eyes and her being was flooded with relief. Before her stood Vegeta. He had a stern expression on his face as always and crossed his arms.
"Frieza is planning to attach Vegeta soon," he said. "This means we can move our plan into action. The only obstacle we currently face is getting the message to Bardock and the others." Vegeta flicked his eyes from Sona to Cerorai. "One of you is going to have to escape," he said simply. He knew exactly who to send. The answer was apparent. Sona looked like hell. She had lost a lot of her weight, her body was littered with bruises and cuts, her skin was growing increasingly pale, and it was apparent she was getting weaker by the moment.
Cerorai didn't appear to be in perfect health, either, though she was one of the healthiest prisoners on Frieza's ship. He was also anxious to get her off Frieza's ship, though he would never admit these feelings to anyone. He wanted her to be far away should anything happen.
"I'll go," Cerorai volunteered, as expected. "But who will care for Sona? If she's not cared for, she will die." Vegeta sighed. He looked at Sona before replying.
"I will do what I can to help her," he obliged, grudgingly. Cerorai's perpetually sad face broke out into a smile. She grabbed his wrist through the bars of her cell.
"Thank you," she said. Her tone was sincere, yet serious.
"I'm devising a plan to break you out," he said, changing the subject to more important matters. "If it's done right, it will look like a mistake and neither you nor I will be suspected."
"Just let me know what I can do," she said softly, smiling. She released Vegeta's hand and turned back to Sona, leaving him to consider his own thoughts. Vegeta was quite confused at the moment, not really sure of these sensations. He chose to ignore them. The only emotions he fully understood and conveyed were anger and rage. To know of a softer, happier emotion was almost foreign to his heart, though he didn't hate the sensations at all.
He figured it would be best to direct his whole attention to the fight for freedom. After he had secured this happiness for himself and his people, perhaps then he could ponder the emotions within his heart.