The Vegeta Chronicles

by Demod20

What if Vegeta was the hero who killed Cell at his most powerful? What if 17 & 18 were given bigger roles in future Arcs? What if Tien Shinhan and other long forgotten characters were suddenly important? This is the series in which those characters get those big roles, and where the DBZ series is retold through their eyes and their perspective. This is...the Vegeta Chronicles!

15. A Woman's Scorn

THE VEGETA CHRONICLES

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Chapter 15 - A Woman's Scorn

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NOTE: This is a long, PLANET BUSTING Chapter. It would be wise for you casual readers to pace yourself as you go. Just wanted to give you a head's up, so that you wouldn't be frustrated by its length.

Hope you enjoy the Chapter!~

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When Videl became the student of the intimidating Namekian Piccolo and the now rejuvenated Immortal Master Roshi, she had no idea the intensity of her training would increase to heights she couldn't have imagined.

Every time spent with Piccolo was like a day of life and death, a struggle to absorb every aspect of survival, fighting spirit, and brutal hard martial arts. She took full advantage of the bountiful energy she had multiplied over the short period of time she had in her training with Trunks and Gohan to its maximum. Every move was careful and precise, never wasted, as being exhausted in front of an Ascended Namekian warrior was the last thing she wished upon herself. She learned that lesson one too many times.

However, every day spent training with Master Roshi was about as different and unpredictable as Piccolo's training was dangerous. Some days she'd be on her guard, hoping not to get pummeled by the forefinger of his right hand, and hope she could evade him long enough for satisfaction. Other days she would spend each day running laps across the planet until she couldn't fly any longer. She adopted the movements and styles of the old Turtle Hermit School, but also gained the benefit of Roshi's own lengthy training spent within the chamber, learning to harness energy from multiple sources to increase the rate of her quickly excelling strength. Doing so felt treacherous and difficult, however, as each test felt like a new term for "insane" or "ridiculous".

But after a good period of time has passed, Videl slowly got the hang of both teaching methods. Combining the harshness of Piccolo's training with the unpredictable methods of Roshi's training helped her to be more resourceful and fluent with her gestures. Every tactic, every plan to tackle the situation was adapted properly to overcome her limitations and find her own way past the obstacles many have been forestalled due to weakness or lack of skill.

It wasn't long...until a year had passed, and an entirely new set obstacles would be placed not in front of just Videl, but all the Z Warriors!

---

1 Year Later...

"Concentrate, Videl," Master Roshi spoke softly towards his student.

"Easier said than done, grandpa pervert," Videl muttered.

"What was that, young lady?" Roshi asked in an irritated tone.

"Nothing," Videl spoke firmly, desperately trying to keep her balance. She sat in a meditative posture, with her eyes closed and hands upraised, squatting on top of a solid oak board delicately placed on top of a mountain peak. She tried not to think of the cold wind rushing by her orange and blue gi, outfitted with the crest with the Turtle Hermit School, that only covered her upper arms and the rest of her body. All she had to do was concentrate on harnessing the energy in herself while keeping perfect balance.

Unbeknownst to her, she had a blue light emanating from her skin, ruffling her clothes and ponytail done hair. Her two framing bangs framing her face flourished around her face, as her eyes squinted with thorough concentration. The board she sat upon rattled ever so slightly, but not enough to shake it off its delicate perch. After so many failed attempts for this repeated exercise, it appeared as if she was now finding a perfect center of balance. Not only within herself, but he whole being.

"I want you to know something before we begin training. This is crucial to understand if you are to master perfect Ki control," Master Roshi spoke, nearly an entire year ago to this day Videl found herself training on, "it isn't the volume of energy within a person that makes them a formidable warrior, nor is it the physiological size that gives them an advantage. The quality and the harnessment of the energy is what matters.

For example, if you see Gohan throw a punch, are you worried that he'll rip apart the planet? Are you sure he has the control to keep it from shattering under the weight of so much energy thrown forth? Of course not, because you've seen firsthand the quality of control he possesses over his incredible energy. Its what makes using such a bountiful well of energy as a Super Saiyan so easy for him. Any other time, if he loses control he'd risk releasing enough pressure to split the planet in two. But even in his most emotional outbursts, you've seen the caution and care he's made subconsciously in keeping his emotions only partially connected to his well of energy.

But it works for people with less energy or strength than those intergalactic titans. I've discovered a method, a technique that someone of your prodigious talents could use to your advantage, should you face a foe much stronger than yourself. It will empower your being, strengthen it, and forgo the need to overpower your enemies by utilizing higher power levels, if you will. It employs the energy of your mind's control, your passionate heart, and your unwavering soul into power the likes of which no enemy will imagine!"

Videl, at that period of time couldn't fathom what was so different about the method of control that'd give her so much strength. She felt, despite how fast her progression was, it'd be another decade before she'd reach a level where she could actually compete with Gohan and the enemies he faces. Even though she had encouragement in some vague degree by her scary Namekian teacher, or the formerly perverted old man, now precariously balanced apart from her.

From the times she fell or wobbled beforehand, she saw a man with complete ease and state of mind. The wind didn't cause him to shiver across his bare torso, fluttering across black gi slacks with orange stripes on each side. A single big toe on his right foot held him up upon the sharp mountain peak, leaving the other to pull up and arch up towards his chest.

If she could gain the state of mind he did, perhaps then she'd feel more impressed with her rate of progress.

"Keep it up, Videl, you're getting the hang of it," Master Roshi encouraged his young disciple, smiling sincerely at the calm exuding from Videl's being, "soon you'll be able to master your energy to use that technique I've taught you."

"It feels like its going to take eternity before I get as balanced as you," Videl pouted her lips, as her eyes peeked out to see the old master still balancing on a single toe, "your energy control is amazing. I don't think I could ever be that serene and idle for so long."

"It takes years and years of practice," Master Roshi began, adding with a sheepish grin as he stroked his beard in thought, "a few too many years for someone like you to learn out the hard way on your own, hehe!"

"Then make ME Immortal so it won't be an issue," Videl stuck a tongue out at her human sensei.

"That'd be handy, wouldn't it? However, the only thing that could make you immortal besides the Dragon Balls is the Immortal Phoenix. And its dead," Master Roshi spoke plainly.

"Wait, I thought things that were titled immortal are incapable of being killed," Videl queried.

"I thought so too. But it turns out that the Achilles Heel to the Phoenix was a weak digestive system. Bad bird seed done her in," Master Roshi sighed, sheepishly chuckling as he scratched the back of his head, "my bad..."

"Boy, I'd feel sorry for a goldfish who managed to work its way into your care," Videl quipped with a dry tone of unamusement.

"Point being, you can't rely on shortcuts of power, like that Kaio-whatever, and you're not a Saiyan, so you can't gain strength nearly as ridiculously possible. Trust me, once you use your technique out in the open with the control you have, all that training you got from Piccolo will be put to better use. Trust me," Roshi insisted with a grin.

"You're about as trustworthy as a lecherous hobo," Videl furrowed her brows at him, earning a sheepish chuckle, before sighing with resignation, "but when it comes to martial arts, I trust you completely. I'd never come this far without your help to balance out the brutality that Piccolo has dished out every other day during the weeks of this year."

"My, time sure does fly," Roshi sighs with nostalgia. He remembered it was only but a few centuries ago when he was a student under Muten, being trained to be one of the strongest fighters on Earth. Then he retained that prestigious title for so long, only to find out he was really weak and insignificant in comparison to many of his progressing students and the enemies they faced. Even though three months passed on the outside, it felt like an eternity within the Chamber, and now he felt like a completely changed person...more or less.

His reminiscing was broken, when the sound of a streaking power surge closed in on them. Recognizing the signature before he turned his head, Roshi waved over at the source as he spoke aloud, "Speaking of things that fly...hey, Gohan!"

"MY PRINCE!" Videl initially shouted with joy, her concentration broken only slightly, as her board cracked but didn't lose her balance. A far better improvement over the last time Gohan interrupted her train of thought. Though her chosen words were swiftly causing her to stutter and blush in front of the old man posing not too far from her, "I...uh...I mean...hi, Gohan!"

Gohan stopped a good few meters away from Videl, smiling bashfully in return. Despite it being nearly a whole year they started dating, he still fell captive under that voice and smile she had. After shaking himself free of the daze he was placed in, he scratched the back of his head and spoke back to Videl, "Hey, Videl. I see your training is going well..."

"Yeah, I think I'm starting to get the hang of it," Videl beamed at Gohan, despite the precarious cracking noises of the board underneath her.

"Beats being beaten up by Piccolo, huh?" Gohan joked with a sheepish chuckle.

Videl's eyes widened with distinct, nostalgic horror, "I can't believe you trained with that monster! I can barely land a decent hit on him, and he keeps telling me to dodge! How can I dodge something that's nearly twice as big and even faster than I am?! Its madness!"

"Nah, its just Piccolo's way of heightening your senses," Gohan shrugged it off, chuckling in remembrance of his own training, "he wouldn't do anything to actually hurt you. He just wants you to be prepared for when you face stronger enemies, that your body will be able to react to their movements and attacks, even if you're not at their level."

"Which is perfect for the training I'm giving her," Roshi complimented with a nod of his head, "she's come very far, and with the technique she's perfecting, soon she'll be an invaluable asset to the team. Even if she'll never reach your level, you can trust she'll have your back. Not that I have to tell you that twice, eh, Gohan?"

"Uh...yeah, sure," Gohan blushed in embarrassment, remembering the time nearly a year ago when he was at the mercy of Tao. If it hadn't been for her, not only would he have probably made a huge mistake, he could've died that day.

Clearing her throat, Videl lifted herself off the board, letting it splinter into dozens of pieces as she hovered in the air over to Gohan's reach, "Well, I'm about done with training for today. Did you come here to pick me up, or was it just to say hi, handsome?"

"Oh! Uh, I guess I wanted to say hi and...well...there's a new arcade that opened up in West City Mall, and...I was wondering if you wanted to come with me, just the two of us," Gohan awkwardly invited, crossing his ankles and rubbing them in the middle of the air as he scratched his head.

"Honestly, Gohan," Videl giggled, her body brushing against his as her right arm looped around his left, her eyes meeting his, "just say you want to have our monthly date, and ask if today's a good day."

"Sorry, haha! I guess even after a year its still hard for me to act so casual about...us...I guess," Gohan smiled happily back at Videl.

"Well, let me help lower your guard, then," Videl spoke back softly, as she pulled on collar as she leaned in to press her lips against his.

Unfortunately, a audible cough brought them back to the reality they had an audience.

"Don't mind me, young'ns!" Roshi chuckled as he smiled toothily, waving his hand towards them while still remaining balanced, "just do what you were doing and don't hold back, haha!"

"No thanks, Master Roshi," Gohan growled lowly with annoyance, rolling his eyes at the old man's sense of humor.

"Well, if that wasn't a sign to get moving, I don't know what is," Videl chirped, tugging on his arm as she flew in the opposite directly of the mountain peaks, "c'mon, Gohan! I'll race you back to West City!"

Gohan just sighed, allowing a smile to cross his face as he followed Videl's lead, "Don't know if you can beat me in a race just yet, Videl!"

"You're going to be up for a rude awakening then!" Videl shouted back confidently, as her body jettisoned into the horizon, with Gohan following in hot pursuit.

Master Roshi could only sigh as he saw the two juvenile lovers flew off, leaving him behind to do his own training in solitude. Though he did ponder about something for himself, "When am I going to get a lady of my own?!"

---

As they soared casually through the air, Gohan couldn't help but laugh with Videl. The two throughout the year had been finding new ways to fly in acrobatic and dexterous movements. To the below observer, they would appear like tiny dancers, flowing through the sky with jetstreams of pressurized wind flowing behind their speeding bodies.

Blissfully ignorant croppings of farms and suburbs passed underneath their gaze, as they settled into a much calmer and straight formation towards West City. They felt as if they were on top of the world, with nothing to hold them back or keep them pinned to the earth.

In a way it was true.

Videl felt more liberated and free up in the air, flying with Gohan, than she had in her entire life. Training with Piccolo had given a sense of exhilaration and grasp over her own strength, as well as combating someone who far excelled beyond her own prowess. Her time with Roshi had taught her control, balance, and peace of mind. Had she remained in the dark with the rest of the world, she would've seen Gohan and the others as nothing more than frauds and monsters.

For Gohan, he had never felt more alive. While training with Vegeta awakened his Will to fight and the determination to not hold back, he had begun to see a path of his own begin to emerge. Breaking away from Vegeta's training regiment, he had signed up for a combination of homeschooling and Online lectures with Videl to catch up on studies and increase his academia. Doing this, he set a rhythm in where he'd schedule time to train, help his mother raise his baby sister, and keep up with studies.

Its truly the first time he felt like he was living a normal life. And he was doing it with the girl who captured his heart.

"Alright, I think we can slow down a bit," Videl spoke aloud, righting herself within the air a mere meter away from Gohan, breaking his reverie as her eyes met his, "I just wanted to ask how the rest of your friends are doing?"

"Friends?" Gohan queried, for a moment not understanding what Videl meant.

Rolling her eyes, Videl nudged his extended arm with her left elbow, smiling exasperatedly, "You know who I'm talking about! The Z Warriors, of course."

"Oh, you mean them? Sorry, I was just reflecting was all," Gohan laughed sheepishly, a bead of sweat comically sliding off his scalp in emphasis.

"You're such an airhead sometimes. I forget that you're a genius behind that thick skull of yours," Videl pouted her lips, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Sorry! Its just a lot's happened within a single year," Gohan apologized, looking back towards the blue horizon, bathed in clouds and enamored with rolling green hills covered by suburban and rustic housing, "I stopped training with Vegeta almost altogether by the time you accepted training with Master Roshi and Piccolo. I think Trunks' departure took a toll on him more than he'll admit. While I'm staying at the Briefs to study with you, and train when Vegeta's not using the Gravity Chamber, I'm usually at my house helping mom out with chores and helping out with Goten. I can see the weariness Bulma is going through though..."

"Is she going to be alright? I mean...they seemed happy enough, as weird a couple as they were when I met them," Videl asked with a worried tone.

Gohan shook his head with uncertainty, "I'm not sure. From the way I've seen it, they've slowly and surely been minimizing their conversations with each other. Vegeta's starting to fall asleep more often in the Gravity Chamber than he is in bed with Bulma. I think Bulma's increased her use of tobacco and alcohol intake since the lack of conversations, let alone arguments. I think they're both trying to cope with the loss of Trunks, and they aren't handling it together like they should."

"I'm sure they'll come around, Gohan," Videl spoke in an encouraging tone, gaining his attention with a bright smile, "Bulma's one of the toughest, stubborn women I've ever met, and she seems to be truly in love with Vegeta. Vegeta may be a glorified jackass and an arrogant jerk, but he's got a soft spot for his family too. I'm positive the two of them will work around this in time."

The words of positive reinforcement allowed the young Saiyan's tension to leave with a exhale of relief. He couldn't even begin to thank Videl for how much support she's lent him during these times of great change and conflict. Though, he could only wonder how she was doing, with the state her dad could've been in for the past year and a half...

Shaking his head to forget that line of thought, Gohan began shifting the subject away from their lives and onto others, "A few months ago, I heard Yamcha got roped into joining Launch's maniacal crime sprees, all because his new girlfriend is her sidekick. But he demonstrated to have a much higher control over his skills and gathering energy, making him a lot stronger than both Krillin and Tien combined. This led to the two of them splitting up to find their own motivations for getting stronger, just like how Yamcha did."

"So where did the two bald guys go?" Videl asked curiously.

Smirking at the blunt nickname for the two fighters, Gohan continued as his eyes drifted upwards towards the clouds hanging just above them as they continued to soar through the air, "Tien said he was going to do some special training alone. I think he said that isolated meditation was needed to breach the barrier his limitations has created for him with Kaio-ken. I think Krillin decided to do that with 18 and 17, though I'm not sure what he has in mind."

"Yeah, I haven't really seen those two much, but from the way you described them, they sound like their insides is all made up of machine parts," Videl probed curiously, realizing she never officially been introduced to the infamous twin Androids.

Gohan chuckled with amusement, as he looked over at Videl, "They're actually a lot more human than what we expected them to be. Back awhile ago, we assumed them to be heartless monsters, just like what their creator and a pale servant of his were. But it turned out that they were much more than that. Their bodies have been interwoven to the highest level of synthetic organic alloy, while still retaining their human organs and minds, but with much higher threshold of pain, resistance to damage, and a higher healing rate than most humans. They also don't need to eat or drink as much as people, but they still have the capacity to do so."

"Its still hard to wrap my mind around the fact that they were a part of Cell, let alone they were strong enough to stand up to you guys," Videl's mouth was agape as she spoke, looking down towards the rolling landscape far below them, "the world that you experience is nothing what I could have imagined, had my father not been exposed and the truth revealed to me."

Gohan gulped, as his thoughts turned to Videl's father. It had been a touchy subject, one of which no one wanted to bring up. He knew the state of her life changed dramatically due to not being the daughter of a supposed hero or a celebrity. Now she was the daughter of a hoax and a phony, one of which continued to be the unspoken conversations.

But Videl looked happy, despite all of this. Gohan could only surmise that she was truly having a bonding moment, and had nothing but honesty coming from Hercule, instead of cleverly woven lies. Well, he wouldn't want to bring up the painful times in her life, and allow her to share it with him in her own time. Unlike his father, he knew when to apply tact and be patient about such delicate things.

"Hey, Videl," Gohan suddenly spoke in an anticipating tone, earning a look of bewilderment, as his eyes glimmered with excitement, "let's see if you can catch up to me this time in a race against my Super Saiyan form!"

Videl couldn't help but narrow her eyes and smile confidently, retracting her arms to her side in preparation, as a transparent aura of shimmering blue Ki came over her person with readiness, "I'm not sure you should be so confident. The things I've learned this past year will make your little light show so mundane in comparison!"

With that said, Gohan's body quickly became enraptured in an aura of golden light, causing his hair to stand upright into yellow locks, and his eyes to shift into blue irises as bright as the morning sky. His voice came out assured and cocky as his body brought forth the full power of his Super Saiyan reserves, "Then show me what you got!"

Without a word spoken, the two teenage martial artists split the sound barrier as the flew forth, aiming to the first to reach West City.

Gohan had an immediate head start, distancing himself from Videl a good ten-fifteen meters. His aura looked like a golden ball of fire, leaving a trail of crackling energy in his wake as his arms carved a path through the sky before his eyes. The sound emanating from him was a blend of a jet and a rocket, sending deafening pulses of sound waves across the landscape far below that he whizzed past.

However, it didn't take more than a few seconds for Videl to catch up to him, much to the golden maned boy's surprise. He almost didn't even hear or sense her coming, as the only sound of her approach sounded like a low musical hum. In fact, the glow of her aura was almost skin deep and kept to a minimum, in comparison to the enormous power pouring from Gohan's pores.

Smiling cheekily, Videl chirped at him confidently, "Ready to give up yet?"

Shaking his head out of the awe he had for Videl's quick catch-up time, Gohan decided to kick it up to the last notch. As he smiled, a bright flash flowed from his tame golden aura and transformed into a maelstrom. As Videl would wince at the terrific discharge of excess Ki from his body, blue tendrils snaked out of his skin and danced around his hair and clothes, fully embraced within the power of the secondary Super Saiyan form.

"Remember you asked for it, Videl!" Gohan shouted with glee, as his body burst within a brilliant flash of light, now taking upon the guise of a golden meteorite. Within an instant, Gohan's body shimmered into the horizon.

With a calm exhale, Videl's eyes closed, the glow slowly dissipating completely from her body. The speed she had almost come to a complete stop, her body righting up to hover limply. Tension seemed to leave her being, and tranquility lapsed within her mind and soul. Her hair flourished within a subtle excess of unknown energy simmering within the confines of her human shell.

Then, her eyes opened, revealing a shimmering blue glow...

---

Gohan's speed always felt exhilarating to himself, while donned within the form of Super Saiyan 2. He felt like he had tapped into an ocean of strength he never felt like before, while feeling as light as a feather. He had often seen what kind of power Vegeta pushed forth, in all its focused intensity, making it into a very lethal weapon. But for Gohan, it felt as if it was a shield of the utmost transparent sensation. Never holding him back and always being there so he could smash it into his obstacles, while dancing around them till their senses became dizzied.

Smiling to himself, he felt bad that he exerted all of his power output into speed. He practically didn't feel anything giving off of Videl, making him realize that she had tired down. He could already see the city within the distance, and the chosen destination of West City Mall, taking up a good section of the inner area of the metropolitan landscape.

But as he approached the horizon, within a single instant, he saw Videl. The sudden sight of her being within within a dozen meters away from him, materializing out of thin air to his eyes, caused him to defuse his aura within an instant and stop himself dead in his tracks.

"W-What?!" Gohan's jaw felt slack as his eyes comically bulged out, seeing Videl hovering before him.

"Ta-daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Videl twirled in the air, giggling with triumph, as she finished her spin with a extended hand making the sign for victory, "what did you think of that, Gohan?"

"H-How did you o-outrun me?! I didn't even feel your energy at all!" Gohan spoke with incredulous disbelief.

Clucking her tongue, Videl wagged her extended left hand's forefinger in a mock chiding tone, "Ah-Ah-Ah, that's a secret. I'll only tell you, it has nothing to do with me being stronger than you."

"No fair!" Gohan comically crossed his arms over his chest, pouting his lips, "I didn't even feel you come past me you were so fast, and I won't even know how you did it."

"Well, the reason you didn't feel it, was probably due to me going the opposite direction as you," Videl spoke with a proud, factual tone, spinning her finger around in emphasis as she smiled wryly, "I circled the Earth to come right in front of you. It was a gamble, but I guess I really am faster than your Super Saiyan speed at its best after all, huh?!"

Gohan could feel his head drop, as he chuckled sheepishly in defeat, "Serves me right for going in guns blazing. I just absolutely humiliated myself in one fell swoop, haha!"

Floating across the shortened gap between them, Videl placed both hands on his head, giving him a soft kiss to his scalp, "Don't worry, tough guy. You're still my knight in shining armor, and no fancy techniques I get will change that."

Her whisper combined with the soft peck to his head caused Gohan's ears to immediately redden along with his cheeks, causing him to smile bashfully, "Th-Thanks, Videl..."

Backing away, Videl returned the smile, as she took a hold of his right hand with her left, "C'mon! Since I'm on a roll today, I want to beat you in some video games too at the Arcade!"

Gohan didn't argue against that incentive. As the two lowered themselves down from the sky, they made sure to land within the back, and walk their way around to the main entrance, so they wouldn't gain too much attention. Despite being dressed in martial art attire of the same style, they knew people of all varieties came in dressed in much more outlandish costumes, especially to the arcade.

They wouldn't stick out that much, right?

---

Three Hours Later...

"...can't believe you won all those video games!" Videl spoke incredulously, holding a half-smile as they exited the Mall's main entrance, "here I thought you did nothing but do your homework, read books, and train when you're not busy with family!"

"Uh, beginner's luck?" Gohan asked rhetorically with a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his head as he looked at her disbelieving stare.

"You beat me at Step-by-Step V without even batting an eye at the screen," Videl grumbled at Gohan.

"Martial Arts has a dance-like rhythm when training. It was an easy game," Gohan spoke honestly.

Flailing her arms comically, Videl shouted with exasperation, "Mansion of the Dead III! Band Duelists! Even my favorite game, Wrath Blaze 3, you beat me with the weakest character against every high-tier character available!"

"Didn't you just say that its not all about power, but in the skill of who plays better?" Gohan asked with a wry grin.

"Shut up, Power Player!" Videl pursed her lips together into a pouted expression, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked in the opposite direction, "your excuses have no affect on me!"

"I guess its the advanced hand to eye coordination," Gohan spoke with an intuitive shrug, speaking as more fact than bragging. Though a hint of a smile was seen developing across his face, he quickly suppressed it at the sight of Videl's irritated glare, "hey, blame Piccolo, not me! All that training I did with him when I was young must've ingrained me faster reflexes inherently when it comes to those flash games."

With that in mind, Videl let out a sigh and rolled her eyes, finally submitting herself to smile back at Gohan with knowing, "Good point. You've been spared from my cold shoulder for the moment, Son Gohan."

"I'm trembling in my boots," Gohan muttered with a chuckle.

Despite her inability to win any duel or multi-player games with him she had a blast watching Gohan excel at so many foreign challenges and obstacles that each game withheld. It felt invigorating and held a sense of true freedom. Here, in public, no one seemed to care who Gohan and Videl were, and were wrapped up too much in their own little world to mind them-

"HEY, YOU!"

"Spoke too soon," Videl thought, as her eyes rolled around exasperatedly, as she turned around with Gohan to address who called them out.

Immediately cringing with disdain, Videl spotted a blonde-highlighted girl who had a skirt that was barely covering her upper thighs, with a nigh transparent frilly short-sleeved shirt. Flanked next to the girl was the equivalent of a man-slave, in the form of a high school jock age of sixteen, but could've been confused for a man of 21 with his body disposition. More importantly, a group of four variously dressed thug-ish looking high school students of the male gender, stood behind the jock and wore similar uniform jackets to their friend.

And all of them happened to be sporting signature "Orange Star High" emblems on their jackets, indicating their point of origin.

"Can we help you?" Gohan asked with a diplomatic tone, trying to keep civil and avoid a conflict. Especially near the entrance of the mall!

"You humiliated my girlfriend back at the arcade!" The lead jock pointed accusingly at Gohan, "she had a perfect winning streak at Step-by-Step V, and you made her look like an idiot!"

"I guess I'm not the only one you humiliated in gaming," Videl whispered with a wry grin, causing Gohan to sweat nervously.

Unfortunately, the words were not lost to the visible school concubine, as she flailed an angry fist at her, "What did you say?!"

"I'm remarking how my boyfriend seems to be better than everyone, including you, slut queen," Videl remarked, darkly smiling as she glared at her with satisfaction.

"You stay out of this, bitch!" The jock snarled at her with another overly dramatic point of his muscle-filled hand.

Placing a hand on Videl within a move of restraint, Gohan chuckled sheepishly as he spoke apologetically, "Look, I'm sorry that I caused you embarrassment. I was just playing for the first time and got lucky, really! If you want tips on how to polish your technique when you dance, maybe I can show you back in the arcade another time-"

"Tutor me? Look Karate Chan," the cheerleader-wannabe spoke with an upraised expression at Gohan, "I'm fairly certain that whatever you did was just a freak of nature. If you know what's good for you, stay out of my way, or my boyfriend and his friends are going to mess up that flashy outfit of yours."

His eyes blinked a few times with confusion. Gohan spoke aloud with a pointed look at each of the high school boys, "Wait, just the five of you?"

"Yeah! What about it?!" One of the back-up thugs snarled at him.

"That would be a huge disadvantage," Gohan began to speak.

The lead jock chuckled with twisted amusement, as he looked over at his friends, "You hear that? The guy's chicken to face us!"

As a hearty series of laughter broke out from them, Gohan still looked impassively at them as he finished, "You misunderstand. It'd be a huge disadvantage for all of you to fight me. I'd highly advise not trying it."

A couple of gasps were heard, with a thug moving backwards at hearing this, with the lead jock smiling as a bead of sweat crawled down his scalp, "You talk tough for a snot nosed punk, brat!"

"Its obvious you don't want to talk this through," Gohan spoke pointedly. Sighing, he turned himself and Videl around, dragging her away as he waved behind himself, "sorry for the inconvenience!"

At first, the jock squad was silent with disbelief. They threatened him and approached him in force, but he chose to leave calmly?

As they contemplated what action to take, Videl sideglanced at Gohan with a disapproving glare, speaking loud enough so the assembled could hear her, "Why didn't you fight them? They're punks and obviously stuck up, with a need to be knocked a few pegs down! Hell, even I could've taken them!"

"I'd rather not start a meaningless fight. Plus, attracting a crowd with the kind of media attention both our families have isn't something I want to increase. Losers or not, I'd rather not chance it," Gohan chided Videl with a cool tone.

It was this conversation that sparked the last straw of insults from the lead jock, "Hey, girlie! Nice wuss of a boyfriend you got there! Do they always homegrow 'em cowardly, or is it just him?!"

Within that instant, Videl stopped dead in her tracks, refusing to be bugged by Gohan's grasp. As Gohan turned to look at her, he felt himself recoil at the sheer terrifying expression of rage projecting from Videl's visage. That rage would be turned to gaze menacingly at the jock, as she walked slowly back towards the bully, not even registering the now fearful girlfriend of his cowering behind him.

"I think you're the stupidest of the bunch, considering how far away your friends and girlfriend are standing away from me," Videl spoke lowly, as she looked up at the vastly larger teenager, causing the boy to shiver with a mixture of rage and bewildered fear of the girl three years his junior, "do you have a death wish, or do you think fighting me is easy pickings for you?"

"Vi-Videl!" Gohan called out to her from afar, not daring moving too close for fear of triggering her rage further, "this isn't necessary! Let's just get out of here-"

"Apologize, and I'll let you keep your teeth, pretty boy," Videl spoke darkly as she smiled maliciously up at him, cracking her knuckles for emphasis of her seriousness.

This prompted the lead jock's veins to protrude visibly with overwhelming rage of his own. A thirteen year old girl was making him look like a fool in front of his buddies and his girlfriend. Not only that, but she's the girlfriend of the boy who humiliated his own girlfriend.

He threw out a fist towards her head, intending on clobbering her to the ground, as he brazenly shouted, "Shut the Hell up you-!"

Within the moment his fist was but a millimeter away from making contact, Videl seemed to disappear in front of his eyes, reappearing beside him. Grasping his jacket's sleeve with but three fingers, she pivoted her legs around in a perfect circle and hurtled the man over his head and sent tumbling into a series of trash bins near the Mall's entrance.

"J-Jake!" One of the thugs shouted out with surprise.

"Get that brat! GET HER!" The lead jock, now known as Jake, shouted out incredulously, despite the humiliating inverted position he lied within, as trash cans bent and conformed around his bulky body.

"Screw her!" One of the thugs spoke, as all four of them rushed at her blindly, using their size and numbers as their sole advantage to overtake the younger and smaller girl, "we're going to make you sorry you did that, bi-EEEEEEEEEEE!~"

Following the nutcracking kick, Videl fluidly grappled two of the incoming thugs sleeves, and twisted on the balls of her feet. This sent them spinning around in the air, striking the squealing and kneeling comrade of theirs, before both of them bodily slammed into the last one, crumpling into a pile before the Mall's entrance. All of this done within a few spare seconds.

Gohan couldn't believe how fluid and graceful Videl was in incapacitating all of them so effortlessly. And all without any use of energy. In fact, now that Gohan thought about it, Videl's energy had been abnormally suppressed since their race. Was she still passively exerting some unknown power, or was she relaxed more than he gave her credit for?

By this period of time, Videl began to turn away with a sigh, waving them off dismissively, "When you actually decide to put those muscles of yours to good use, I might actually put some effort into that."

"YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY THAT EASILY!" Jake shouted with uncontainable rage, as he pulled a knife out of his jacket, and rushed towards Videl with the clear intent to cause damage, if not kill her, "TAKE THIS!"

The knife didn't get very far.

Within a single twist of her hips, Videl turned around and swung the flat side of her right hand to connect with the side of the weapon. It passed clean through, causing the blade to clatter uselessly to the ground, and stop Jake clear in his tracks. Utter disbelief took hold of what just happened, ever being reinforced by what the extended palm did next.

A subtle pulse of Kiai was generated, flowing out like a football sized pocket of compressed air, striking the jock into the gut. As saliva flew out of his mouth, Jake's eyes bulged out with pain and utter disbelief, as his body pinwheeled off the ground and slammed into the wall with a breathtaking smash, indenting him firmly into place.

All the girlfriend of Jake could do was fall to her knees with disbelief, her eyes now wide with fear and her body trembling, caked with cold sweat, "W-What...just happened...? W-What the hell...are you...people?!"

"I guess you bit off more than you could chew, huh?" Videl asked with a dry chuckle, as she turned her back on the blubbering girl.

Gohan clucked his tongue in mock chide, as his grin betrayed his disapproving tone, "Ever heard the word restraint, Videl? I think you'll end up in a lot less meaningless conflicts if you just ignore the idiots who challenge you."

"If it was an insult to me, I'd ignore it. But if its an insult to you, I'll make them sorry," Videl spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, stopping just in front of Gohan as she crossed her arms, regarding him with an upraised brow as she smiled wryly, "tell me you wouldn't have done the same if they talked trash about me. Then I'll apologize."

With a sigh, Gohan raised his hands with surrender as he answered her honestly, "Point taken. But for now, let's skedaddle before we run into the Press or Mall Security."

"Good thinking," Videl spoke, almost intuitively as a number of people exited the mall's entrance to see the pile of crumpled bullies and the sobbing girl, "let's do that right now..."

"Hey, what happened here?!" A Mall security officer looked around, disbelievingly both at Gohan and Videl's direction, before strafing back to the unconscious high school students, as well as the inaudibly blubbering girl.

"I-Is that one of the Z Warriors?" One of the teenager onlookers, a brunette girl, squinted her eyes at Gohan whom was obviously recognizable, but Videl was less so, "Who's the girl with him?!"

"Hey, you!" One of the teenagers, having been watching from behind the doors, raised a phone to take a picture of the two of them, "hold a sec and let me make you famous!"

"I think not," Gohan spoke disdainfully, his eyes briefly flaring blue, as a transparent wave flowed from his irises and spread out to hit all of the adults and teenagers. Once it struck them, it would cause a static shock along their nerves, but more importantly, shut down all electronic devices on their persons.

"What the-?!" Videl began to utter, before she felt Gohan's arm wrap around her waist tightly. Within the blink of an eye, their forms dissipated within a blur of motion, leaving the disoriented crowd in their tracks.

---

It didn't take more than a single minute to leave the Mall far behind. Gohan finally stopped in front of one of the shopping areas within West City, beside a video store's windows. The news was playing on it, as a visual appeal for anyone to come in and buy their televisions, but loud enough to broadcast the newscast being displayed from its windows.

As Videl regained her composure, she looked over at Gohan with a mischievous grin, "So...I'm guessing you did something to their cameras to make them all flustered, eh?"

"Perceptive as always, Videl," Gohan lightly clucked his tongue, motioning to his eyes as he winked back at her, "I channeled a small amount of my brain's bio-electric energy into pulses through my ocular retinas, and discharged them in a widening manner. I call it a Localized Electromagnetic Pulse!"

Videl couldn't help but giggle, placing a hand over her mouth to contain her uncontrollable burst of laughter.

"Hey, what's so funny?" Gohan asked with a frown.

"Its just...just leave it to you to think of an intellectual way to explain what you just did, haha!" Videl explained, as she wiped away tears forming around her eyes, attempting to regain composure.

Turning his head to the side, Gohan took his arm away from Videl's side to cross both of them over his chest, pouting his lips, "You make it sound like I'm some sort of nerd or something..."

"I just find it adorable is all," Videl spoke with an honest smile, causing the boy to blush around the ears and cheek, "its not really a bad thing. I find your big brain as attractive as your big heart, Son Gohan!"

"Y-You mean that?" Gohan asked with a bashful smile, as he turned back towards Videl, locking his onyx eyes to her blue orbs.

"I wouldn't joke about something like that to the boy I've been dating for the past year, now would I?" Videl asked coyly, as she leaned slowly towards him, her hands gripping the front of his gi lightly.

"I guess not," Gohan murmured, his eyes starting to close as his face neared Videl's.

"IN OTHER NEWS!-"

"-the Hell?!" Videl shouted out with bewilderment, as the TV's from within began to move from idle music to a sudden newscast. But what came up caught her and Gohan's immediate attention, was the images of the three people on screen. This bout of media attention was being followed a young woman reading off the broadcast with barely contained enthusiasm.

"Excuse me...sorry about that! As I was saying, the Alleged Three Star Bandits have yet to be apprehended by the authorities. Nearly a year has passed since the series of random, sporadic heists has started. Through a series of painfully put together pieces of photographic and video evidence that wasn't destroyed, we can tell that one of the acclaimed Z Warriors, Yamcha, whom fought back in the Intergalactic Tournament and helped put down the alien menace that infiltrated Battle Island II. From what we can tell, he is accompanied by two females, one blonde and one blue haired, each of them skilled at disabling police and security forces they come into contact with..."

"Tch, it was only a matter of time until they found out who he was," Gohan muttered with annoyance, glaring at the many TV screens glaringly show Yamcha's pictures from both the Tournament and him in the process of destroying surveillance equipment within various establishments, "but why have they not identified Launch and Maron? Are they not easily identified?"

"Why did the press come up with such a lame name for a criminal group like Three Star Bandits?" Videl's brow twitched as she asked incredulously.

"The only recurring distinguishable trait is the capsule-used getaway vehicle. Its an open-top jeep, with three painted red stars with an orange background on either passenger door. Due to this feature being repeatedly seen by what surveillance equipment that isn't destroyed during these raids, local witnesses and the media officially named the group the Three Star Bandits," the woman emphasized with a twirl of her finger at various pictures of the trademark jeep they used repeatedly during their escape from the authorities and the crime scenes.

"Well, that answers that question," Gohan chuckled, as Videl rolled her eyes at the revelation, "wonder why they haven't caught them?"

"For those wondering why these criminals who've been doing blatant heists and behind-the-scenes burglary? Well, the short answer to those just viewing now is the fact that the majority of the funds acquired are usually from morally ambiguous businesses and establishments. Nearly 75% of their targets have been Casinos all over Ryuchi's populated city centers, with the rest ranging from Mafia influenced banks, smuggler dens, and even incoming black market ships that have eluded Ryuchi dock authorities for decades," with a cheeky expression, the newscast woman leans towards the camera while smiling wryly, "and what happens to the money, you may ask? From what we've been reported over the year, the more impoverished villages, orphanages, and many good natured charity drives throughout Ryuchi and even internationally! Whatever the case may be, I sure hope they continue being the Merry Band of Bandits that they continue to be!"

"Well...might as well ask my fortune from the news," Videl spoke blandly, shrugging nonchalantly as the news finally deviated from topic onto more mundane matters.

"Glad to see Yamcha's leading Launch and Maron in the right direction," Gohan smiled with relief, sighing in emphasis, "he may be hot-headed and stubborn, but he's always had a heart as big as Krillin's. At least he's making the world a better place in his own way..."

"Yeah, that's fine and dandy," Videl spoke dismissively, pulling Gohan to face her again as she spoke lowly, "now shut up and kiss me already!"

No word of protest was made as Gohan and Videl's lips merged in front of the video store, embracing each other with sincere and pure love. Any thoughts of what Yamcha and his two female cohorts' activities were at the moment immediately escaped him as he embraced Videl and closed his eyes. He couldn't be anymore content than that moment he shared with Videl.

---

50 Miles South of West City...

Beyond the visual horizon of civilization liked an airfield. Based within a desert-based valley, a dirt road paved the way to a gravel semi-circle, making up the "parking zone" of this airfield. Far from being ordinary, the planes that came had falsified paperwork, along with the aircraft usually being painted matte black to mark them to be more obscure than the normal white transport and passenger vehicles.

Armored jeeps, and men in black suits with flak vests guarded the currently singular plane. Forklifts were swiftly carrying armored crates towards a "Toys" logo Semi-Truck, issued to be delivered to its assigned destination. The job was nearly complete, putting most of the guards at ease, as three quarters of the two dozen armed men began taking smoke breaks and were talking amongst themselves.

Two in particular watching the unloading one of the last crates onboard the plane, talked to each other behind red tinted anti-impact helmets.

The one on the right spoke up first, "So...why do you think we're here?"

"Come again?" The one on the left inquired back, "you mean why we're here metaphysically, or why we're here to guard a plane on a dirt airfield in the middle of nowhere?"

"Well, if you think about it, whatever's on that plane got to be worth a lot. I mean, they scraped the top layer of sand off this ditch of a valley to make a sorry excuse of an airfield, and give us armor-piercing rifles, and enough personnel to escort King Furry. It just seems to be a little excessive, if you ask me," the soldier on the right shrugged.

"I didn't ask, nor do I really care," the soldier on the left sighed, rolling his eyes, "I just want this to get over with so I can get back to a security detail that doesn't involve soaking up this heat."

"Just wanted to make conversation to keep myself from being bored," the soldier on the right groaned, kicking the dust underneath him, sending a rock rattling before him. However, the rock didn't stop rattling, and continued to rattle as the whole ground shook, "the hell?!"

It was at this point, three things became apparent. The first being the obvious sound of a rapidly approaching vehicle. The second was the fact that said vehicle seemed to be launching itself high into the air above the two prattling guards, and over the parked armored jeeps. Lastly, the music blaring from the radio was screaming out the lyrics from the song, "Highway to Hell," as it landed directly onto ground in front of the two said guards, and in the middle of the entire encampment.

The guard on the right suddenly caught sight of the orange and red logo on the doors of the jeep that landed in front of them. That, and the man draped in orange and emerald rustic attire, with a sword sheathed at his left hip and an unmistakable pair of scars on his handsome face.

"O-Oi! T-That's the Three Star Bandits!" The guard on the right shouted out incredulously, as he gripped his weapon and began taking aim.

"No shit, sherlock!" The guard on the left spoke as he aimed his own weapon at the three infamous raiders of illegal merchandise and cash, "raise your hands where I can see them, and no funny business!"

As the other guards began reaching for their weapons, Yamcha couldn't help but smile, "You actually think bullets are going to stop me? Please, if you watched anything about me and my two partners," he finished by swiftly unsheathing his blade, his body perspiring an eerily vibrant blue aura, "we're anything but funny people!"

"Actually, we kinda are a funny trio!" Maron piped up, as she lifted herself out of the jeep and landed right next to him, "we make lots of funny jokes, listen to funny music, argue funnily-"

"Not the point, Maron!" Launch shouted, as she pulled out two semi-automatic handguns out of her holsters and aimed them at either side, "just take them down, quick and clean as usual!"

"Whatever you say, boss," Yamcha rolled his eyes, as he made the first move.

By the time he was registered before the two monologuing guards, his blade had already passed through the heavy grade assault rifles, causing them to fall into tatters.

"T-This isn't my day, is it?!" The right guard spoke aloud in bemusing alarm.

The guard on the left just facepalms, dropping his weapon as he did so, "What gave you that idea, genius?!"

WHAP-WHAP! Yamcha twisted around the blade to be inverted to its cutting edge, bludgeoning the two guards at their necks, sending them to unconsciousness.

As the other guards opened fire, the two girls split up to take out each half of the remaining guards left.

Launch skipped and leaped side to side, unloading her rounds with expert precision and unrelenting barrages. It didn't take long before the thirteen fell to their knees in writhing agony, as they were subjugated to the non-lethal painful rubber bullets that impacted against their weak spots around their flak armor.

Maron's approach was far more dexterous. Acrobatically flipping, somersaulting, and side-stepping past all of the incoming bullet fire, she effortlessly approached the ten men who unloaded assault weapon fire. They could only shout with incredulous disbelief and fear, wondering what horrid fate awaited them by this deceivingly skilled woman.

"Patty-cake," CRACK! "Patty-cake," WHAM! "Baker's Man!" CRACK-WHACK! "Bake me a cake," WHAM-WHAM! "As fast as you can!" CRAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

Before any of the soldiers realized what was happening, they found Maron's hands clapping in a mesmerizing manner where they couldn't react accordingly. Each time she clapped, a fist or two would slam into the exposed joints of the armored guards, sending enough incapacitating force through the joints or nerve bundles she aimed for to drop them to the ground or throw them into pinwheeling crashes against their parked jeeps. The last of them were headbutted against each other, before flipped over to land on their backs, leaving them wheezing and coughing for air.

"Oh yeaaaaaaaaaah!~" Maron made a double 'V' sign, as she sashayed her hips around in a circle as she raised her face upwards dramatically as she shouted, "no one messes with the Patty Cake Champion!"

"Great job, Maron!" Yamcha spoke aloud with good cheer, having struck the guard managing the forklift on the back of the neck, causing him to slump in his seat unconsciously, "you and Launch did great as always!"

"We keep doing the majority of the work," Launch growled angrily as she holstered her guns, and strut over to the first two guards that were knocked out by the scarred bandit, "as always, the only thing you contribute around here is targets of interest and replacing all of my clips with non-lethal rounds!"

"Unless you want your name to be remembered as most notorious and wanted woman, instead of an appraised hero who's helping the world out, then you can feel free to do these heists on your own," Yamcha spoke firmly, as he looked over the armored crate resting against the forklift.

"We give away ninety five percent of the bounties from those heists. NINETY FIVE PERCENT! Do you realize how big of a mansion we could be living in if you weren't such a soft-hearted, half-assed, lazy crook?!" Launch stamped her foot in a fit of rage.

"Most of these heists wouldn't go so well without my intuition, my skills, and my power. The small percentage has amounted to a small fortune over the years, so I don't think you should be complaining, and just enjoy whatever we come across," Yamcha waved dismissively at Launch, as he rubbed his hand over the armored casing that held whatever was the items being delivered. Something was amiss, and he got the vibe from immediately engaging these guys. Despite them being as easy to take down as any other security guard, they were packing serious firepower for what they were supposed to be, "Launch, didn't you say this was a government operation?!"

"Yeah, its supposed to be," Launch sighed heavily, turning to regard the cleanly sliced weapons in front of her, nudging them with her boots, "but this looks way too pricey for ordinary military or security personnel to be using. The info SAID it was government, but maybe they misread the aerial pictures they took. Mercenary perhaps?"

"Can't be," Maron spoke pointedly, her voice adopting a much more sage tone, as she observed the writhing guards with keen interest, "they were obviously skilled to take on any ordinary threat. We're one of the few people who could possible take them on in a frontal assault. Whoever they are were hired by an organization to protect their merchandise."

"Where's it going is what I'd like to know," Launch huffed as she planted her hands on her hips, looking over at the parked semi-truck, still loaded with armored crates, but with enough room for people stand around it from within, "the only area of civilization around here is thirty five miles northeast of us, in Baseru City, and the Western Capital City just fifty miles away."

"Who could be influential enough to keep an operation of this scale in the dark?" Yamcha asked curiously, hauling the crate over his shoulder, and floated over to Launch's direction, landing next to her with Maron hopping next to his side.

"It looks almost next generation type seals too. I think this is the type of container that shields its contents from both unwanted intrusion and from fallout. Best not open it up the rough way," Launch examined, brushing her hands over the keypad and the series of delicate locks sealing the contents within the dark green case, feeling the intricacy of its craft, "better take a look at it."

"We should take the truck. Its already loaded with all of the toys inside of it," Maron suggested with a nonchalant wave towards the large Semi-Truck, filled with the majority of the crates from the plane.

"Good thinking, Maron," Yamcha complimented her with a smile and a thumb's up.

Maron giggled with glee, as she skipped over and kissed his cheek chastely, "Thanks, Yammy-poo!"

"Anytime, Maron-pie!" Yamcha winked back at her, causing her to squeal happily.

Rolling her eyes, Launch walked over to the jeep, and pressed the interior button next to the keyhole. Within an instant, all contents and the vehicle itself collapsed within a puff of smoke into a small capsule, allowing Launch to deposit it into her jacket pocket, "Alright, here's the plan. I'm going to take a look at what's inside that crate and any others I can, while Yamcha drives with Maron towards the nearest highway."

"Where are we supposed to go, oh fearless leader?" Yamcha spoke sarcastically, twirling the crate around his arm, before allowing it to rest fully on his right shoulder.

"We're heading to West City. Something's fishy about this operation, and if this is some kind of tech we don't recognize, I think its best if that Briefs chick took a look over it, see what its worth," Launch explained pointedly, as she crossed her arms over her chest, "plus, its best not to linger here too long. Who knows when they send a response team or a helicopter to pursue us?"

"Right," Yamcha nodded with understanding, "it'd also be good to identify the manufacturer, so we can stop or discover the reason for its make. Its curious to find about an organization with advanced tech we don't know about. Especially if it isn't from space..."

"Cause aliens get all the shiny stuff, right?" Maron quipped.

"Yes, Maron. Aliens always get the cool, shiny stuff," Launch sighed with a smile, finding humor in her statement.

"Oooooooooh," Maron's eyes got all big and shiny, as she spoke her mind with cupped hands below her chin, "can we go into space sometime?! I want to rob a Space Casino sometime, and then go get a Space Smoothy!"

"One of these days, Maron," Launch chuckled as she walked towards the truck with Yamcha, "we just might get that chance..."

---

30 Minutes Later...

"Damn," the voice of a new arrival spoke crisply. Having just touched down after a free-falling leap onto the semi-circle parking lot of the airfield, the man looked over the scene with disdain. His single grey iris dilated, as he saw the truck was gone and noted that most, if not all of the guards surrounding the plane were badly injured or knocked unconscious, "looks like I got here a bit too late."

"H-Hey...you," one of the guards, nearest to his feet reached out in terrible pain, "c-can you get me some help? I-I think my ribs could be broke...ah...ah...hell!"

Looking up at him, the guard suddenly realized his mistake in garnering his attention. The man had a black sash tied around his head, creating a makeshift eyepatch over what looked like a vaguely implied scarred left eye. His high-collared black coat had a hint of glittering flak armor within, overlapping the chain-mail woven breastplate, vambraces, shin guards and cuirass enrapturing his person. What made him especially threatening, was the constant left handed grip on the scabbard of an elaborately designed black handled katana.

"Y-You're one of those...agents...!" The guard spoke in a ghastly tone of horrified recognition.

"If you value your life, you will tell me exactly what happened," the swordsman asked with an impassive tone, his eye observing him coldly, as if the guard was nothing different than an asphyxiating fish out of water, "now."

"W-We were hit hard. Figuratively and literally," the guard emphasized with a wave of his hand at the pile of unconscious and writhing bodies, "before it all went to Hell...one of the guys said they were...were...the Three Star Bandits!"

"Go on," the Agent uttered in a demanding tone.

"A-And they just took all of the crates packed up and left! I-It seemed like no big deal to them, but it sounded like they were misinformed about this place. As if someone spied on us ahead of time, and thought we were government personnel," the guard continued.

"They took all of the merchandise?" The man asked in an almost disbelieving tone.

"Y-Yeah! They just took it and left, not but a half hour ago, heading north!" The guard pointed towards the tracks, obviously leading out of the depression of dirt that the airfield was comprised of, and towards the makeshift highway, "I-I think they're heading towards West City's highway!"

The man suddenly went silent, processing all of the information accordingly. Turning his back on the rasping, ground prone guard, he raised his right forefingers to tap against his temple, and immediately began to speak through his mind.

"Kyoshou-sama, we have a situation," he began.

"What is it, Edge?" Kyoshou responded with a steady tone.

"Your suspicions were correct. The sensations within the airfield were justified as the use of Ki, and martial combat had ensued. All of the guards are incapacitated and subdued, and the merchandise is currently en route to West City," Edge continued, narrowing his one eye as he finished, "the Three Star Bandits were involved, and are the ones responsible."

"I see," Kyoshou responded coolly.

"Your orders, Taichou?" Edge asked respectfully.

"Pursue them and retrieve the merchandise. I want it intact, Edge. I don't care what you do to these bandits. Killing them is preferable," Kyoshou responded nonchalantly.

"Understood," Edge nodded in emphasis, "what about the airfield and the plane?"

"Disposable," Kyoshou spoke in a cold manner, "I don't want any witnesses left behind. I also rather not have potential authorities stumbling upon these failures and interrogating them."

"Got it," Edge finished, cutting his telepathic link by lowering his right hand to his side. He began walking up the top of the depression, leaving the guard behind, calling out to stare at his backside.

As he stood atop the hillside, Edge thumbed his sword free, and uttered lowly, "7th Ash Dance," turning on his heel, he grasped the hilt of his sword and unsheathed it in one fluid motion, and swung it towards the horizon that made up the airfield, "Kaimetsu!"

What happened was near instantaneous.

A wave of distorting wind emanated from the blade's edge, before accelerating out within a mass of blue, electrifying visual force. It spread like wildfire, and soon was an entire kilometer long and fifty meters high. The wave of crackling and disorienting energy flew forth, and tore everything into dust. All the bodies, the debris, the field, and even the plane all were annihilated within a single touch of the force that was flown into a wave of dust that curled the entire landscape.

As the event ended, a steaming carved valley had been thrust out, ending at the distant beachhead, causing a sudden flooding of the sandy graveyard. Within minutes, the ditch would be flooded, and the entirety of the landscape used for transporting high technological equipment would be forgotten. Just as Edge wanted it to be.

With a pronounced sheathing motion, Edge turned his eye towards the horizon. Focusing his energy to the surface, he could feel the faint signatures of three signatures, obviously the bandits, heading due north. With a brief inhale, and exhale, Edge reared his left foot back as he readied to pursue. With a blast of blue energy from his heels, he found himself skirting across the desert terrain, and accelerating at incredible speeds to catch up to his prey.

"You may run, bandits, but know that the Edge will always catch up to you," Edge spoke lowly in a foreboding manner, as his eye glared towards the horizon, his feet strafing the sand, causing it to turn into glass particles, as he raced to retrieve what had been stolen.

---

"S-Stupid lock!" Launch growled, sitting near the back of the sealed truck, as she tried using monkey wrenches on each of the metallic clasps, holding it to place, "why don't you open?!"

She had been at it for the last half hour, ever since they took the road. Despite her insistence of handling the crate's unlocking, she now wished they at least used their swords to cut the exterior locks. She had already went through two hammers, a metal-cutting saw, and even a pair of brass knuckles, but nothing seemed to make a dent.

"AAAAH!" Launch tossed the monkey wrench against the truck in frustration, pulling at her blonde hair, "stupid crate! STUPID STUPID STUPID!"

Having attached radio comms over their ears to maintain contact, due to the thick plating of the semi-truck's cargo hold, Launch could irritably hear the inane chatter coming from the driver and passenger seats. Namely, Yamcha and Maron's prattling.

"You having trouble, Launch?" Yamcha asked in a curious tone, though obviously, trying to hide the smugness from it.

"No, not at all," Launch spoke snarkily, placing a faceplate over her face as she readied a blowtorch, "I just like breaking tools on such mundane locks! Just peachy over here!"

"Are there real peaches back there?!" Maron asked with a star-struck expression.

"NO, Maron! There aren't any!" Launch shouted from within his helm, comically muffling her retort through the speaker as she began cutting away at the locks with her blowtorch.

"Oh poo!" Maron pouted, crossing her arms as she looked back at the rear view mirror. What she saw, however, caused her eyes to widen, "uh...problem! PROBLEM TIME!"

"What is it Ma-" Yamcha began to ask, when he suddenly heard the shockwave slam across the truck, rattling it, as well as the significant drop of life within the direction they were leaving. Looking at his own mirror, he saw what could be seen as a rising wave of dust flowing up into the sky, that looked similar to a pillar of smoke, "what the hell happened? We didn't leave any gasoline laying around, did we?!"

"I didn't kill anybody, if that's what you're asking!" Launch quipped irritably.

"It wasn't an accident," Maron's eyes widened, as she unbuckled her seat and stuck her head out of the door, her eyes peering at something approaching from the distance, "that was a sword technique!"

"H-How do you know that?!" Yamcha asked nervously, feeling alarmed by how serious his girlfriend was acting.

Hopping back in, Maron thumbed back towards the window, "Because I see an angry swordsman heading towards us with a sword on his hip."

"What kind of eyes do you have? Are you part eagle?!" Yamcha asked incredulously.

"Hmmmm," Maron tapped her chin thoughtfully, before quipping back with a gleeful grin, "I might be!"

Turning his head around to look out the door for himself, he saw a brilliant azure light billowing a large mound of sand. It seemed to cut a trench in its path, as it rapidly approached their direction, "Oh crap baskets! Launch! We have a seriously pissed off samurai heading for us on foot and gaining! I'm going to hand the wheel over to Maron while I take care of-"

"No, you stay," Maron spoke pointedly, her eyes narrowing with seriousness, as she climbed out of the truck and rested her feet on the window frame of the door, "you're good, but he's better. I'll handle this, you keep driving."

"Maron? Hey, wait!" Yamcha reached out, but was unable to stop Maron from exiting, disappearing to somersault to the roof of the semi-truck's cargo floor, "dammit!"

"She's serious, isn't she?" Launch spoke with bewilderment, shaking her head as she continued to carve her way through the crater's locks with the blowtorch, "leave her be, Yamcha and keep your eyes on the road. When Maron says jump, you jump!"

"Can't believe I've been turned into the driver when some serious action is out the door!" Yamcha complained, as he glared at the windshield, pressing his foot on the pedal to speed up as fast as he could, "you better win this, Maron!"

---

C-CLICK-POOF! With a single click of a capsule, Maron tossed up the container and allowed it to release its contents with a single explosion of purple smoke. Dropping into her hand was a jewel-crest, brass guard katana, gripped in her right hand firmly. Her eyes glared at the rapidly approaching enemy, as her hair flourished in the wind as the truck continued to speed northward, mentally prepared for her battle.

As Edge coasted along the desert, he saw the truck, filled to the brim with the merchandise he desired. But what greeted him was a sword-toting woman, with brilliant blue locks flowing within the wind and a keen stare that locked onto his form with cool confidence and menace. The very sight intrigued him, and tantalized his warrior spirit to engage her in combat.

With a swift jump, the excess force smashing a good twenty meters of earth behind his wake, Edge flipped head over shoulders to land a good five meters away from Maron's position.

As he rose to stand, he slowly unsheathed his blade, purposely locking his eye upon hers, "Your stance seems eerily nostalgic. Who trained you?"

"Who trained you?" Maron quipped back, raising her blade to point directly towards Edge.

Sighing, Edge gripped his sword with both hands, spreading his feet in preparation, "So that's how its going to be, hm?"

"Its a sign of good courtesy to introduce one self before asking questions," Maron responded back, not yielding her position in the face of Edge's stance change.

"The only courtesy I'm giving you is a warrior's death, girl," Edge spoke impassively, his grey eye coldly staring at her with dispassion, "only fools would give up their names to the enemy. That'd only matter if they were to live to see another day."

"I don't want to kill you, though," Maron spoke back pointedly, her voice smooth and composed, not in the least intimidated.

"Too bad for you," Edge murmured, suddenly leaping forward as he slashed diagonally towards her, "but I do!"

Maron reaction time was immediate. During mid-way of the slash's movement, she pivoted her body around elegantly on her right foot, spinning around to completely avoid the incoming slash. The force of the slash cut a geyser of pressurized air, tearing a good gouge into the horizon's landscape, and super-heating the grains of sand into glass shards.

Using the initiative of her strafing dodge, Maron swung her own blade horizontally to attack his blind sight.

Edge bent his upper body forward, twisting around to duck underneath the sword swing, and aim a direct two-handed lunge towards her midriff. The blade wouldn't reach its target, as Maron inverted her blade's position and slammed the pommel of her sword to redirect the thrust, and the immense force thrust towards her, carving a trench within the desert sands.

Edge felt his eyes bulge as a precise roundhouse kick landed upon his armored chest, causing him to skid a good meter across the roof of the semi-truck's flooring. As Maron retracted her foot, Edge was thankful he was wearing his armor. The force implemented from the single kick was enough to make even his durable body lose its breath for a second.

"You're stronger than you look, girl," Edge spoke complimentary, relaxing his stance to hold the sword with a single hand, as opposed to two, "you seemed educated enough to know how to handle swordsmen of exceptional prowess. I ask again, who was your master?"

"You wouldn't know them. None remain of whom taught me the art of swordsmanship and the ways of combat," Maron answered pointedly, her eyes staring vividly impassive back at Edge's equally detached stare.

"A shame that you have to join them, then," Edge spoke half-heartedly, as he bent his chest forward, squatting his legs apart, "what a waste of a fine legacy!"

Edge charged again, and this time, attacked with a much higher grade of intensity. A number of thrusts and slashes tore through the air from his blade, throwing vicious fissures across the surface of the semi-truck, causing it to buckle and quake with intensity. This unfortunately caused the truck to unintentionally veer left and right, and the interior of the cargo bay of the truck to rattle and shake violently.

"The Hell is going on up there?! Is someone tap-dancing with anvils tied to their feet up there?!" Launch shouted up at the top of the truck, struggling to keep her bearing as she used an oversized crowbar on the front of the sealed crate, "I could use a bit more coordination, Yamcha!"

"Stop complaining and keep at it! Its hard enough to drive on off-road roads as it is, I don't need you whining about you getting car sick from this," Yamcha retorted back, desperately trying to keep atop the top of the make-shift road and not steer off into one of the many rising and falling dunes surrounding them, "Maron's taking the full brunt of whoever's wanting the merchandise back. If we get one of them open, maybe we can use it against him."

"It'd be nice if all armored crates carried RPG's or Mobile Nukes, wouldn't it?!" Launch chuckled dryly, pushing her back into the crowbar as hard as she could.

Despite the ferocity to Edge's attacks, his eye stared with disbelief at what he was seeing. Maron's body seemed to be moving in a blur, as she deftly weaved her whole body away from the flow and path of each attack. Her moves were as limber as water, but had a solid force of a strengthened warrior, able to react accordingly while keeping balance atop the wobbling and weaving truck.

"How could I have not met such an individual of astonishing skill? She's evading all of my attacks while maintaining her footing with no hint of clumsiness or loss of momentum," Edge admired with surprise, even as he continued to hammer at her defenses, keeping her from dishing out her own offensive, "I can't hold back anything against her, or she'll force me off the truck! Forgive me, Kyoshou-sama, for I must use the Ash Dances in order to fulfill the latter goal!"

Edge then pulled back, narrowly evading a blade slash to his head. Even as he backed up to the edge of the passenger side of the box's roof, he felt a trickle of blood slide down from the bridge of his nose, as a small gash appeared where her sword's current connected.

"3rd Ash Dance," Edge whispered, bringing about his blade's guard to rest inverted next to his right cheek, as the sword took a subtle orange glow, as steam rose from around its metallic surface. Then, he lunged forth, his body moving within such swift momentum, that Maron forced herself to bring her blade up to guard the incoming blade thrust.

Edge's blade connected with the guard point of Maron's, scraping forth with an array of bright sparks. But something else happened, that threw off her guard, the moment she saw Edge's lips move, "Jigoku Ken!"

Within an instant, Edge swung his blade against Maron's, releasing a geyser of flames, pushing forth to envelop and consume Maron's body as it spread across the entire width of the semi-truck's roof.

And when the fire dissipated, there was nothing. No mortally wounded enemy, no barely scathed superior warrior, and no sign of life. All that remained was the distinct clattering of the heavy weighted katana that was within Maron's possession, just mere moments before the geyser of super heated tongues was unleashed on her person.

For Yamcha especially, he didn't feel anything at all. And with the resounding, deafening silence following that deafening explosion. One reason or another, without any witness or explanation, Maron was gone and soundly defeated.

"MARON!" Yamcha shouted aloud with apparent fear, as he felt her signature drop to nothing, as the flames billowed forth from their enemy's blade.

"Yamcha? What the Hell happened?! It just got real hot in here all of a sudden," Launch asked with worry, now using her bare hands to lift the crate off what's left of its hinges.

"B-Bastard!" Yamcha snarled, his eyes glaring forward as he desperately tried to feel her life presence, but failing at that. Tears began crawling down his cheeks, in sync with throbbing veins rushing across his brow line and his left arm. Raising it upwards, crackles of bio-electricity danced around his finger tips as he began to conjure energy for a counterattack, "this isn't over yet...!"

Edge, for the meanwhile, had his eye open wide with surprise, to see nothing remained of his enemy other than the super-heated blade clanking near his feet.

Granted it was a lethal technique, he never imagined that it would consume her so swiftly. Was she too lax in her confidence, or was she not as skilled as he took her for? Regardless, he couldn't feel her presence, and he didn't see her body along the road or the desert landscape.

"One down," He murmured as he turned to face front of the truck, "two to-"

"GUH?!" Having not the chance to advance, he felt something hot and hard strike his left side, nearly barreling him off the truck entirely. Before he could have a moment's respite, the yellow ball of energy retracted from his person and swung around to slam into his gut. The force itself made Maron's kick pale in comparison, and he swore he heard the metal bindings of his breastplate groan in protest against the projectile.

"I'm going to make you pay!" Yamcha shouted from the driver seat, using the mirror to give him a good estimated view of where the swordsman was, while using his senses to calculate the trajectory for his Spirit Ball's path, "TAKE THIS!"

Edge's eye narrowed, as he placed a foot back and solidified his stance. With a single swipe of his blade, he cut the projectile in half, as he ducked beneath the two spiraling fragments of energy that flew by him. But to his surprise, he swung around and found two smaller energy balls to speed towards him, colliding with his sword's guard, keeping him on the defensive.

"ENOUGH!" Edge shouted out, deflecting both spheres back with a thrust, following up with a dramatic clap of the flat end of his blade onto the truck. What transpired next caused everyone present to hold their ears, as the very vibrations ushered from the violently vibrating semi-truck dissipated the energies entirely, and disabled any measure of control over them.

"D-Dammit!" Yamcha swore, barely able to keep the wheel steady from the now throbbing headache he had.

"FREAKING FANTASTIC, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Launch screamed within the truck, as the vibrating rang from within the expansive space of the cargo bay. It caused her to cover her ears, as she felt her whole being writhe and buckle with pain, being within such a contained space with little ventilation from the violent vibrations ringing within the truck.

However, something also happened within that instant.

B-B-BEEEEEEP-CLICK! All of the crates unlocked, free of the complex and difficult lock system holding them into place. Even the one she felt was nearly unlocked, clicked and flew open.

A few moments of dumbfound silence ensued, as Launch twitched frustration and unbelieving rage. Then, she shouted at the top of her lungs at the roof of the semi-truck, "Oh gee, thanks! LIKE I ASKED FOR YOUR HELP TO BEGIN WITH, JERK!"

Edge walked purposely forward, stopping only when he was a handful of meters away from the main part of the vehicle's driver side. His eye narrowed with distinct prejudice, as he pulled his blade back, using his left palm to steady it like a bow to an arrow, "I won't take any chances with you, Yamcha of the Z Warriors, Master of Okami-ken. I'll risk damaging the merchandise if I can take you out of the equation."

Yamcha's blood froze. For the first time, he just realized this person wasn't merely coming after a bunch of robbers. He knew who he was, and most importantly, the technique he used that one day against Tien and Krillin. He could feel his heart pounding, but he dare not move, or else leave Launch to the same fate as Maron had befell to this fierce enemy. But if he took the shot, would he survive?!

Meanwhile, within the cargo section of the truck, Maron had looked at a pair of items within the crate immediately in front of her.

As Launch picked up a strange pair of gauntlets, she furrowed her brows at them. They had golden plating, and an exterior retractable partition that slid over the knuckles. Touching the material's interior, she saw that it could extend all the way up to the shoulder, making it a snug fit for the wearer.

Shrugging, she muttered, "The Hell with it!" as she began place them on her hands, and began to prime the power source. Almost within an instant, the armor slid up underneath her sleeves, forming an almost second, and surprisingly comfortable metallic skin. As the gloves fully primed, she heard a distinct click, as the plating over the gloves slid back, revealing a pair of white-hot glowing pair of gauntlets where her hands were sheathed within, "oh...my...money!"

"6th Ash Dance," Edge uttered aloud, as a faint trace of Ki filled within the edge of his blade, causing it to glow a divine white light.

As Launch flexed and smiled at her new toys, she heard faint tapping sounds come from her left, trailing up the side of the truck too briefly for her to recognize.

"Enjou Tengai!" Edge thrust his white-hot blade forward, aiming to end the life of Yamcha, and take one of the Z Warriors out of the equation.

CLANG! However, his blade would only go halfway, before being jerked violently to the horizon on his right. He didn't have time to see what caused it, as a stream of light ejected from the tip of his sword, and cut a swathe across the proximate desert landscape, and beyond everyone's visual scope. What followed the light's projection however, was something entirely different.

Almost within a heartbeat later, all along the path of the light's gouging path emited a voluminous, expanding gait of orange-white flames. The explosion rocked the very crust of the planet, as it singlehandedly devoured the sand and streaks upwards towards the heavens, creating a visual blinding display of terrifying explosive power.

Yamcha's eyes widened with disbelief at what he saw, knowing it came from the enemy. He hardly felt a real volume of Ki placed into the blade's thrust, and from what he saw, created a large horizon of flames that continued to billow upwards, and would soon leave nothing short of a meteor-sized crater behind. With chattering teeth he looked back to the road, desperately trying to keep it from swerving off to the opposite side due to the powerful shockwaves that collided against its right flank, as he tried to rationalize just how powerful this enemy was.

"That was hardly even an ounce of energy he exerted. Here I thought only monsters could produce that kind of energy, and he's yet to even work up any volume that Vegeta or Piccolo can. Just what is this guy's secret?!" He shook his head, trying not to tremble at how close to death he was. With a ping of realization, he felt a distinct and memorable pulse of energy emanate near where his enemy was, causing him to smile with relief, "M-Maron!"

Edge looked over with an aghast visage, as he saw Maron, alive and in the flesh. She was bent down in a squatted stance, her left hand allowing her to bend forward, allowing her right hand to extend the fallen blade that Edge had left unattended. The position she made contact with his blade, suggests to Edge that she shoved its edge precisely into the flat left flank of his own weapon to derail the course of its attack, right at the precise moment of execution. .

Leaping back a few meters, Edge regarded his enemy with newfound respect, raising his blade in a guarded stance, "I let my guard down and yet, you chose to derail an attack when you could have dismembered me or killed me in an instant? Your soft actions are going to truly get killed. Although, mysteriously enough, you appeared to have only been slightly marred by my Jigoku Ken."

Indeed Maron's black-&-red jacket covering her black tank top, jean shorts and skin had only been lightly grazed by the extreme heat. In fact, there was only a hint of scalding along her arms, and no where else, given the fact she had willingly leaped away from the incoming gout of fire heading towards her but a minute ago, hanging onto the back of the truck by some means unknown to him. Her sword had long since defused of its superheated properties from its collision, and was free for her to grasp without any marring to her hands.

"You did something different, didn't you?" Edge questioned, still keeping his guard up as his eye peered sharply at her stoic eyes, "you didn't simply mask your energy. My master whom taught me the arts of killing had given me the innate ability to even feel the distortions of fighters who mask their presence. But you didn't do that, did you? You somehow played dead. There's no other explanation for that, as bizarre as it sounds. Am I wrong?"

Maron stared back silently, not giving anything way, nor was she denying any of his analyzations. Though there was a distinct venomous glare within her blue eyes that made them seem a tad darker. If Edge didn't know any better, his attack upon Yamcha might've been what got her so worked up.

With a sigh, Edge gripped the handle of his weapon as he shuffled forward, "I guess you're not going to give anything about yourself for free, are you? I should've expected as much-"

"I was wrong," Maron spoke lowly, her eyes looking down towards the semi-truck's roof flooring, "I can't fight you without the desire to kill you. Your skill is beyond those measures now."

Swinging her blade slowly to rise above her head, and face in a diagonal arc before herself, allowing her hand to hover beside her left hip. Her breathing slowed and deepened, her grip relaxed on the blade and her body began to soften and release all tension within her.

What happened next was both daunting and ominous.

All at once, Yamcha, Launch, and Edge all felt a wave of cold, constricting atmosphere drop upon them. Any light they had to offer seemed to dim, and a rise of blackness seem to emanate around the truck, and the proximity around it for a good twenty meters. If anyone was watching from the outside, it would appear as if a blot of darkness was move across the bright, desert road.

"M-Maron's pissed!" Yamcha uttered lowly, gulping with terror as he had felt this kind of sensation only on rare occasions during his training with her.

Launch could only rely on the artificial heat emanating from her strange armored gauntlets, to keep her teeth from chattering at the eerily damning sensation washing over her skin. She, like Yamcha, had only witnessed this kind of sensation and for herself in particular, only saw it happen once. She wished never to be around her when it would happen again, despite the given circumstance.

Edge, being the nearest to her, could only feel his own blood grow cold and his spine tingle with foreign fear. It was as if he was staring at a demon, and was basking in an aura that seemed to suck the life out of everything around it. The sensation was both terrifying and elating, as he had never fought someone of this caliber or this strong. That and the pressure she seemed to exert...was eerily familiar to him...

Then, he saw her move.

It felt as if he was moving heavy lead weights within his own arms, but somehow managed to swing his blade up to meet the one-handed strike.

Much to his surprise, the sheer ferocity of her attack caused white lightning to burst between their connecting swords, and shear through the air with a deafening thunderclap of force that rattled the foundation beneath them.

He felt his knees buckle under the overwhelming power behind it, and sensed no energy rise behind it, but only felt the ominous darkness that clouded his senses, suffocated his skin, and weighed his muscles. That, and his perception of her was being less and less like a blue haired vixen and more like a black-haired demoness, swinging a weapon that might as well been a scythe of the reaper himself.

Again and again, he felt himself pushed to the brink of his limits, as his energy pushed to the surface in a bright aura that was smothered by the blackness surrounding him. Lightning coursed between their weapons, as excess force rattled the truck and caused fissures of energy to dance around the sand, glassing the grains within impact due to its intense temperatures flaring.

"I-I can't take much more of this!" Edge thought within a panic, his brow caked in sweat, mingling with the blood that ran freely from his cut nose that dripped over his lips and chin throughout the intense collisions his body withstood, "I-I have...to use...the...7th...Dance!"

Backpedaling away with what speed he could muster, he appeared only a meter away from the edge of the truck's posterior flooring. Sheathing his blade most of the way, he settled into his given stance, and would unleash the power to erase her existence. She looked calm and unworried, glaring back with the blazing red eyes of a beast looking for blood.

Disturbing him to no end, Edge panicked irrationally, and began drawing his blade to initiate as wide of a berth for his weapon's expansive reach, "7th Ash Dance, Kaimetsu-"

Within the blink of an eye, Maron leaped forth and reached his person within a quarter mark of unsheathing his blade. Her sword thrust moved in slow motion to Edge, as he watched it slam into the gap between the metal and the scabbard, stopping it cold in its tracks. The force contained within the blade didn't stop from being released entirely.

Edge watched mortified as his sword shattered from the power of his own technique, having stopped short of being released, spraying a stream of steam from the now empty sheathe where his blade-less hilt was once resting.

"I-It can't be-!" Edge began uttering, raising his blade's hilt up in utter disbelief as he had been disarmed so utterly. His disbelief wouldn't be the last thing on his mind though, as the blade swung away from his scabbard...

...and through his breastplate, slicing through it effortlessly, shredding the chainmail weave behind it and creating a deep gash across his chest. Stumbling back a few steps, he fell to his right knee, as his left arm covered his chest as he looked up at the woman who defeated him.

Strangely, however, the moment the blade had connected with his chest, the darkness was lifted. For some reason or another, Edge could feel himself breathe easier and could feel the pain stinging across his chest. But his vision was now clear, free of his paranoid filled perception, as he saw Maron looking down at him not with the malice and anger he felt earlier.

Instead, he saw...a smile?

"You're really good," Maron smiled with bubbling approval, as she rested her blade on her shoulder, squatting before him with no hidden intent other than friendliness towards the man. The very man who tried to kill her and her friends, she now extended a hand out towards her, "my name's Maron. Its good to finally meet you, Pirate Samurai Guy!"

"P-Pirate?" Edge muttered with disbelief, looking at her hand with utter confusion. He didn't know what words to utter and how to respond. Never before had he been defeated and humiliated so utterly, and then treated with respect regardless.

Below their feet, however...

"Thank goodness, Maron's defeated the hit man," Launch breathed easier as she spoke. Looking at her gauntlets, she raised her hand up towards the ceiling and flexed it a few times, "would've been nice if the show ended with a big bang, though..."

That was the last thought that crossed her mind, before the raging hot glove suddenly discharged a voluminous blast of flames upwards.

"Eeeeeep!" Maron shrieked with comical terror, as she pulled her hand back just in time. What she saw was Edge being blown away by a blast of flames that erupted from within the truck and tore a gaping hole. While she saw that he didn't get utterly consumed in the fiery maw, she knew now that he'd be in a lot of pain, watching him impact in the distant desert landscape off the side of their road.

"L-L-Launch!" Maron pouted her lips and pounded her feet on top of the truck, glaring at the awestruck and smiling Launch, holding her gauntlet upwards with realization what just happened, "you big meanie! I was about to make a new friend!"

"Well, I guess I LAUNCHED him away from you before you got the chance," Launch said with a self-amused chuckle, raising her hands up with a beckoning gesture towards her glaring friend and then towards the driver side of the truck, "huh?! huh?! C'mon, that was golden!"

"Sorry, Launch, but that was bad. Your sense of humor is still as bad as your temper," Yamcha drolled on, facepalming as he sweatdropped comically from the poor joke she came up with.

"I DIDN'T ASK YOUR OPINION, LAZY-ASS!" Launch snarled, with comically sharp teeth, "now keep moving! We need to have miss panties take a look at this crap basket load of toys we got here. And why it was secretly transported in the first place."

"Fine fine, back to work then," Yamcha huffed, pushing on the pedal he didn't know he let up on.

"Uh...Launch," Maron spoke with a raise of her hand, as she looked down at her from the hole with big eyes, "I agree with Yammy-poo. Your jokes are kinda bad, Lunch-Lunch!"

Launch growled, pointing her gauntlet up at Maron, with a menacing hum emanating the air, "I'm about to LAUNCH you away, Maron, if you don't get back to your seat with Yamcha!"

"Whoop Whoop Whoop!" Maron comically tooted out as she somersaulted across the truck, collapsing her sword with a toss into a capsule, and tucking it back into the folds of her leather jacket. With a swift flip, she hopped back into her seat next to Yamcha, "Maron's back!~"

"Ha! You scared me for a moment there when you faked out like that," Yamcha chuckled nervously, though he couldn't restrain a smile back at her, "but then again, I should remember how hard it is to find you by energy sensing alone. Your Killing Intent sure did a number on that guy, didn't it?"

"It wasn't my Killing Intent, Yamcha," Maron whispered stoically, turning away from him as she contrastingly dropped into a quiet monotone, "but whoever he is, he's not an ordinary fighter."

"That's a given," Yamcha spoke seriously, as he focused on the road again, "he hardly used any amount of what I'd call impressive energy, and he caused more damage than what my pals are capable of. He also knew my name and the name of my technique. They're probably spying on us, and maybe all of the Z Warriors right now!"

"So we go to Bulma with the merchandise?" Maron asked curiously.

"I think Launch has the right idea," Yamcha nodded as he stared at the oncoming highway, leading towards West City, "besides, it seemed he was pretty anxious to take us out before we got to our destination. Professionals like them usually wait until they know where you live or where you're going, rather than strike unnecessarily. I don't think they want to reveal themselves in public just yet, whoever they are..."

Maron brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, quietly addressing aloud, "They might do now...after what happened today..."

Yamcha gritted his teeth. He knew they were in a precarious position, discovering what they had, and narrowly making it out in one piece. He could be endangering the entire city by bringing valuable tech into the heart of Capsule Corp. Even still, Yamcha stared ahead with a determined gaze, "Its a calculated risk we have to take, Maron."

---

West City, Briefs Residence

Vegeta reached for the off switch on the gravity machine, turning it off with a sigh. He had been at it for the past four hours, and yet, he felt unnaturally hungry for his shift. Grabbing a towel from the rack within the chamber, he began toweling himself off, realizing he'd need a shower the moment he'd get in the house. Grumbling he could only wonder how much stronger he truly gotten within the last year.

"An entire year my son from the future is gone. And another Kakarot is gone," Vegeta realized bitterly, squeezing the towel as he exits from the chamber.

His eyes squinted as bright sunlight hits his retinas, making him shake his head as he walks begrudgingly towards the house, to scrounge up something from the fridge.

Considering how much work the past year he placed into his training, he had been asking Bulma less to cook meals and started to just find quick edible snacks to take with him instead as he worked out in the Gravity Chamber. He even started sleeping most of the year in the chamber instead of the warm, comfortable bed that tempted him to relax and slumber.

Due to the unmistakable evidence via Namekian ex guardian of Earth, he knew that Kakarot had been finding some way of training in a much more intense environment than what the lax one in Earth had to offer. That, coupled with the fact his son felt frustrated he couldn't keep up or find a purpose in fighting in the past, had been inadvertently pressured by his own father to go back, and not in good light.

Vegeta had hardly paid attention until recently how absent the life and warmth he had in the past year in comparison to before his sight returned to his rival. The one warrior, and outclassed low-life had beaten him in the most humiliating fashion. Time and again he missed opportunities to return the favor in a challenging light, but something always came up. With his death, he felt as if all hope had been robbed from him, and that he'd have to force to move on.

But then he showed up, right before his eyes, in some spirit conjured body. All thoughts of moving on had shifted in preparation, in the daunting task of keeping himself primed for the return his goal would come back to the world of the living. And with "Big" Trunks absent, he felt even more absent from all those who once loved or relied upon him.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," Vegeta muttered lowly as he reached the house, opening the door to acquire his sustenance. And for the first time, he was blatantly exposed to the vices of his wife.

His nose, enhanced beyond what normal humans could smell, scrunched up at the scent of old alcohol and smoke flowing through the house. His eyes watered slightly at the stinging sensation they made to his eyes, causing him to growl with irritation, "What the Hell is going on?! Is someone dead?!"

After following the trail of crumpled beer cans and cigarette buds, Vegeta found the source of all the mess and smoke-filled air. Bulma was sitting back on a chair, with a single beer can in her right hand, and a cigarette in the other. The rosy complexion on her face and the half-dead look in her eyes dictated to Vegeta she was slightly buzzed while feeling slightly sedated by the effects of the cigs.

What infuriated him most wasn't the act of intoxicants being used so blatantly in overdose, but the fact he was doing it right next to a whimpering Trunks.

"What the Hell is this all about, woman?!" Vegeta asked aloud in irritation, waving his hand at all the mess and the state she was in.

"Oh...hey Vegeta," Bulma spoke in a flat, monotone voice, sounding tired and frustrated herself, "finally decided to come in to recharge before getting back at it, huh? Well, help yourself to the fridge...its not like I cook here anymore."

"Bulma, what's wrong with you?" Vegeta asked pointedly, raising his hand as his eyes widened with incredulous anger, motioning towards the irritated toddler standing within the play pen, "why are you like this around Trunks? Do you not care what this is doing to him?!"

"Oh, he doesn't mind it," Bulma waved dismissively with her beer-grasping hand, looking over with a drunken smile at her child, "isn't that right, my little man?"

"No, momma! Smell ucky!" Trunks emphasized by covering his face and holding his nose.

Shrugging, Bulma returned her attention to a heavily breathing Vegeta, "Well, he may whine a little, but its not gonna hurt him, right?"

Turning away, Vegeta gritted his teeth as he spoke lowly, "I may not be the best father," he returned his gaze to look at Trunks' tear-eyed, irritated face, before meeting his wife's disgruntled visage, "but I know for a fact that stuff is going to skull-fuck him in the long run. If you know what's best for your...our...child, then you'll get rid of that stuff right now!"

Raising her left hand to take a long drag, Bulma exhaled blatantly, as she spoke with a venomous tone, "Make me!"

Vegeta didn't take long. Within a matter of seconds, all of the cans on the floor and the fresh ones were placed into his arms, crushed into a small wet metallic ball. Grasping the pack of cigarettes, he threw out both of the waste products and launched a ball of blue energy, turning it all into ash. Adding insult to injury, Vegeta snatched the beer can from her right hand and also threw it out, followed up with a blast of ki, and snuffed out her cigarette in her free hand.

Blinking a few moments, Bulma began to absorb just what happened. When she did, she stood to her feet and shouted at the top of her lungs, "WHAT THE HELL?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!"

"I should be asking you that!" Vegeta pointed his finger at her with a dark glare displayed upon his visage, "why are you acting like a complete slob and infecting our son with intoxicants like that?!"

"Since when the Hell have you cared?!" Bulma laughed bitterly, placing her hands on her hips, "does smelling my breath and smelling my cigs bother you that much, Saiyan man?"

"You're drunk, woman!" Vegeta shouted with disdain.

Throwing up her hands up, Bulma began to tirade, "No shit I'm drunk! You know why? I haven't had a single moment of true peace and relaxation in over a year, thanks to you!"

"Do tell, Bulma, how this is all my fault," Vegeta laughed derisively, crossing his arms over his chest as a smirk of amusement crossed his lips.

"You're not here anymore, you're just eating our food! You don't bother to take an ounce of care in raising your own son, ever since the other kind and thoughtful one was most likely chased off because of you! All you do is train, train, eat, train, train, and eat! You don't sleep, and when you do, its not in bed with me anymore! Its as if any passion for doing anything outside of your stupid fixation with getting even with Goku has been sapped by seeing him just once! Soon, you'll not even remember our names, as the only name you remember is Kakarot. A name that shouldn't even matter to you anymore!" Bulma finished shouting, heaving with great exertion as she glared at him.

Vegeta stayed silent, only settling with glaring back at her. The tension was palpable, and he swore he could hear sparks from how much animosity was being thrust into the air between them. He then finished with a profound growl as he unfurled his arms and walked right up into her foul-smelling face, "What my goals are and what your mundane ones are, range in importance from the distance between the stars to this pathetic mud ball of a planet. You've never grew up with the expectation of inheriting the throne your father suspected you to get by birthright, and then have that, and your whole race wiped out. You were never spat upon by someone who believed to be on top of the world and disrespected everything you represented. And that insult has gone unwarranted long enough. The moment Kakarot returns, I WILL have my revenge," pointing his thumb at his chest with emphasis, "and I WILL not be stopped. Not by you, or my son, or anyone. This is my destiny, and you won't hold me back from it!"

"Well, I'm not sure as Hell stopping your obsessed, narcissistic, self-absorbed, immature, childish ambition, Vegeta!" Bulma spoke in a dry, flat tone, as she poked his chest with firm emphasis of her own, "you can have your petty vices, if you let me indulge in mine! Until then, don't even try lecturing me on what I should or shouldn't do, let alone parenting children!"

With a hiss, Vegeta turned on his heels and left Bulma in a huff. He blocked out the now apparent cries coming from Trunks' play pen, and the incredulous reality he now lived in.

Grasping the handle of the door, he had to restrain himself from pulling it off the door as he opened it. Walking outside, he journeyed over to the center of the lawn, his breaths practically growing ragged with bottled frustration and rage. Raising his gloved hands up and lower his face to look at them, he glowered as he barely could close them into fists.

Then, pulling them back, Vegeta howled loudly. The force that expelled from his lungs shook the foundation of the entire city block. Glass rattled, lawn ornaments cracked, and car alarms began sounding in fierce succession. By the time he stopped, all of the air had finally been released, and he felt his eyes close with some minute satisfaction.

Wrapping himself in an aura of blue-white Ki, Vegeta launched himself off the ground and into the sky, flying farther into the downtown area of West City, hoping to clear his head and find some way to figure things out.

Meanwhile...a figure stumbled out from behind the Gravity Chamber, distorting visually like static. As the cloaking unit disengaged, it was revealed that it was none other than the Inner Circle agent, Sky. Tapping her audio receiver, she didn't hear anything. With a sigh, she concluded that the force of Vegeta's shout alone caused her communications to be on the fritz, and even distort her stealth generator.

"No matter," Sky whispered, as a smile stretched across her face, "this is an opportunity I can't pass up..."

---

Several hours later...

Vegeta had taken time to fly around the skyline. He made sure to move fast enough to avoid being spotted by the paparazzi and the authorities, but slow enough he wouldn't leave the limits completely. The last thing his nerves needed was an abundance of useless attention from people he could care less about. Despite the given title he attained, he didn't value it as much as their inane praise.

However, his time spent flying around did allow him to clear his head.

He realized that he practically threw out all the current reservoir of beer and cigarettes Bulma had. It was common for any species to consume some form of intoxicants to feel at ease, especially when said consumer was feeling unstable or irrationally high strung. The more he thought about it, the more he started to miss the warm bed and the large feasts Bulma used to fix him.

With a sigh, he eventually worked his way to a nearby gas station, landing directly in front of the entrance. He startled a few of the passerbyers, as they gasped with recognition of who he was, but he paid no heed to them. He had a mission and he aimed to complete it before the end of the day. Entering the gas station through its automatic doors, he immediately went looking for the alcohol.

"Uh, hello sir," A rotund shaped man, clad in a white-red plaid shirt and a brown belted pair of jeans. His glasses showed a pair of aghast eyes when he looked at how defined, and how memorable the short man's figure was that entered, "V-V-Vegeta...the World Martial Arts Champion?!"

"Yes-yes, that's me," Vegeta answered without turning his head, looking for familiar labels. Despite his best efforts thus far, he was starting to have a hard time deciding what to get, "I'll be on my way shortly, so please contain your excitement."

"I-Is there something you're looking for in particular?" The clerk asked tentatively.

"I'm just here looking for the best brand of alcohol and cigarettes you humans possess," Vegeta sighed , turning around to look at the man from the small station's interior, crossing his arms, "something that could possibly impress a temperamental woman who can consume a high yield of any cheap brands you usually keep in stock."

For a few seconds, the clerk blinked awkwardly. It only took him a minute to decipher Vegeta's meaning, allowing him to smile, "Ohhhh, so you're trying to impress a lady friend, eh?"

Blushing slightly, Vegeta looked away from the clerk's now piercing gaze, "I guess you can say that..."

"Say no more!" The clerk spoke aloud with a much more relaxed and assured tone. Rubbing his hands together, he bent behind the counter and began shuffling boxes around, "I know I have it somewhere back here. Hmmm...now...where...are...AHA!"

Vegeta walked across the distance over to the counter, as the clerk produced pair of pristine items, recently dust-wiped by the man's own shirt.

"This is one of the oldest and finest wines I've gotten into my custody. Its a bit too rich for most folks, but if your woman likes 'em strong, I highly suggest this," the clerk hands Vegeta the bottle to his left hand. Its label was labeled Ryuchi Vineyard Classic, Year 731. Liquid sloshed within the burgundy colored glass, with only a old cork sealing its top.

"Also, give her these," the clerk handed Vegeta a finely enamored cigar case, filled up to twelve within its entirety, "these cigars are much more potent and can guarantee to last longer. They're about as premium as you can get, and I'm pretty sure the smell will be less, eh, disturbing for those present around her."

Analyzing both items in his hands, Vegeta nodded with certainty, "Yes, these will do," turning his gaze back to the clerk, he nodded to him impassively in a faint sign of appreciation, "I thank you for your assistance. I regret to inform you that because my training gear lacks pockets, I don't have any funds to-"

"Its on the house," the clerk spoke without hesitation, placing his hands on the counter as he smiled with appreciation, "hell, if it wasn't for you, Cell would've vaporized all of us by now. Its the least I can do to help you out with your own problems, however in what humble way I can."

Vegeta had to soak in the importance of what was done. A man was willing to give the best of what he had behind the counter, something he wouldn't normally show to his customers, and for gratis. With an awkward bow of the head, Vegeta murmured a thank you as he left, only hearing a vague call to come by again should he require anything else.

As he jogged away, he began to contemplate on what he wanted to do once he got back home. Would he just shove them into her arms and hope that he would be accepted back into the home, and return to what passed as normalcy to begin with? Would he have to get on his knees, and swallow all sense of pride he had in himself as both as a man and a prince of noble blood?

As far as he knew, he hadn't had the faintest clue how to approach a woman, especially one as independent and vibrant as Bulma.

"Lost in your thoughts, Prince Vegeta?" A silk-laced voice spoke around the corner of the sidewalk he jogged past, stopping him cold in his tracks.

Looking over his shoulder, Vegeta's gaze was captivated. He had seen weirdly dressed women of Earth, of various forms of beauty, but this one stood out like a literal snowflake in the middle of a tarmac.

The woman had long, snow-white hair that draped down elegant shoulders, boasting a complexion similar to smooth marble. Her lips and eyes were silver, akin to her hair color and her attire's scheme, with a fur-laced collared cloak wrapped around her shoulders, revealing a sleeveless white top and billow-cuffed slacks, with no shoes adorned underneath.

The gaze she shined back, however, was what wrenched him back to reality. It was a gaze of pure adoration and focus, eerily giving him the creeps, only growing further as her smile spread across her immaculate face, and the musical voice bode nothing short of pure desire, "Perhaps, I can help alleviate your worries and embrace your deified body against mine?"

Shaking his head, Vegeta spoke coarsely as he turned his heels to adjust his direction around her, "Sorry, but I'm not into that kind of kinky stuff. Why don't you go away and stop laying hooker..."

"Back to the wench, then?" The woman asked with an upraised brow, causing him to stop once more. She cast a nonchalant glance of knowing at the bottle of wine and the cartridge of cigars, "aiming to please her with bribes so she could cook you a feast that you've started to yearn for?"

"That's none of your damned business!" Vegeta snarled at her, trying to keep his gait calm as he suddenly began to become very aware of her words and their hidden meanings.

"Come now. Surely someone of such eloquent tastes and divine strength deserves something much more worth your time?" The mysterious woman continued, now brushing an outstretched hand across his shoulder, rubbing the back of her hand against his cheek, "its not like you care about such insignificant pests such as them, do you?"

A violent swing of his arm sent her hand away from his skin, as he glowered in a demanding manner, "Who the Hell are you, and how do you know about my family?!"

"I know a great many things about you, Prince Vegeta," the woman continued, not seeming to be disturbed by his attitude towards her as she elaborated, "I know that you're a Saiyan, a Super Saiyan at that. One of the finest warriors within the Universe, and also an undisputed fighter of untold strength. The whole world acknowledges you as their savior, no matter how flawed you are upon the surface, recognizing the deifying presence you maintain by sheer existence. The knowing fear that you instill within them, knowing you could destroy the planet as easily as Cell. Just like you tried to do all those years ago, in search of the Dragon Balls, right?"

Vegeta felt his teeth grinding against each other with indignation. He felt his body shaking, as what he assumed was a harmless hooker was something akin to a deranged spy, who seemed to hold every chapter of his life in the palm of her hands. He could only dread what she was plotting, and why she approached him now of all times.

Sensing his confusion, the woman opened her arms in invitation, "I know this, because I adore your reputation as much as I revere you. Your power, your passion for battle, and your never ending quest to fulfill your desire to become the strongest of the Universe. I have watched you for some time. I've studied you, watched you train, and seen your incredible power. I too have an incredible power, and only wish that we use it together, along with the order I represent-"

"Woman, let me be very clear," Vegeta spoke in a level, threatening tone as he glared darkly at her, "I don't know what twisted mind game this is, but I am not buying any of it. You're sick in the head, and from the way you dress, you have an obsession with falsehoods that you've sought out from me. And this organization of yours you're working for to gain all this information? Tell them I decline any offers they have, for I don't desire anything. Approach me and I'll crush them, make them wish they had never crossed the likes of me OR my family! You hear me, you damned lunatic?! I'LL CRUSH YOU!"

It was at this point the woman's smile had retracted to an impassive expression, and her eyes grew very cold. A sudden billowing wind began to flow through the street, and the light began lessen as a shroud covered the skies. Within seconds, the entire skyline was blotted out by the largest, most enormous storm clouds, spreading forth and crackling ominously as the swirled overhead.

KRAK-KOOM! Violent thunderclaps ensued, as bright lightning streaked across the heavens, proclaiming the intensity of the storm.

Cars flipped over live leaves, glass began to shatter under the violent gale force winds, and the rain began to pelt the ground in endless sheets. The bleak atmosphere that projected from the female nemesis caused Vegeta alarm. To him, it felt as if the entire storm that manifested within minutes came from the focal point of ominous energy, caused his blood to boil and his smile to stretch across his face.

He knew at this point, crazy or not, this woman was strong.

"My name is Sky," the woman proclaimed ominously. Following her words, her eyes began to glow hallowed white hue. Her hands spread out around her in a mesmerizing dance, as she floated into the air above the Saiyan's head. Her body flourished vibrantly, as a eerily bright light projected from her body, matching the enormous pulse of energy that flowed high within sky above Vegeta, "and you've disappointed me. I came to anoint you as a god to join the heavens. But you've proven to be nothing more than a beetle, in the presence of the almighty heavens!"

---

A/N: That took longer than I'd like. .

Okay, just as an update, because of an employment situation I've attained in real life, these Chapters might take me around a week to post. If not, I will endeavor to do within the standard three days. I just wanted to give you the fans a heads up before you start wondering where I am and what I'm doing.

Summarizing the Chapter, I wanted to clarify a few things.

1 - In order to better compile both the "Real" world and Dragon Ball Z's world, I've decided that this is how the system works. The large continent in which any of you Dragon Ball geeks are aware of is named Ryuchi (Lit Translation, "Dragon Land," or, "Dragon Country,") and resides within the Pacific Ocean, right about a little above the Hawaii Islands, in between Japan and the US, while being close to the tops of Russia and Alaska.

Financially speaking, the reason why Ryuchi is considered the "Center" of the world is due to it being the Capsule Corp HQ, making it a very financial center for the majority of the world in how technology advances with all inventions coming FROM Capsule Corp. That, and the World Martial Arts Tournaments are usually held regularly within its domain, so it attracts a lot of tourism, and most of the various areas of Ryuchi are independently wealthy or well-to-do.

Politically, the World still has their own Governments as you would know it. Ryuchi itself has mayors and political leaders that lead their various diverse areas of living that you've seen. But it happens to be the Capital of the "World Government" which is a better term of what I like to think of as a Parliamentary system that's a much more unified and advanced version of the UN or the EU, with the Head of this Government being Ryuchi's figurehead "King" this being King Furry.

So...with that out of the way, I will continue

2 - The Three Star Bandits is a parody, heralding and praising the infamous TFS Parody group within the series named "Team Three Star".

3 - Translations for Edge's Ash Dances are: (Kaimetsu = Annihilation ; Enjou Tengai = Blazing Horizon ; Jigoku Ken = Hell Blade)

I hope you like what I've done with the series thus far. If you have any questions, please relay them via PM and leave any comments, suggestions, and Reviews about the Chapter.

Until then, I'll see you guys on the next chapter of, The Vegeta Chronicles!