Chapter 63: The Prince of All Saiyans
A few weeks after getting his ass beat on Earth, Vegeta's space-pod still screamed through the cold vacuum of space, hurtling toward Frieza Planet 79. Inside said vehicle, the Saiyan Prince lay battered and broken, his body barely holding together after the beating he had suffered at the hands of Kakarot. His once pristine armor was now cracked and smeared with blood and grime, a far cry from the arrogant warrior who had once believed himself invincible.
The impact of the landing jarred Vegeta back to consciousness, the pod's violent shudder as it touched down pulling a groan from his throat. His vision swam, the bright lights of the Frieza Force's medical bay piercing through the haze of pain clouding his mind.
As the pod's hatch hissed open, he stumbled out, collapsing to one knee as his legs gave way beneath him. A group of soldiers rushed to his aid, their expressions a combination of awe and fear. Even in his weakened state, the man's reputation as the Prince of all Saiyans and one of Frieza's most feared enforcers commanded respect.
"Get me… to the healing tank," Vegeta drawled, his voice a low growl, dripping with embarrassment and barely contained rage. His pride had been shattered, his body broken, but he wanted vengeance above all else.
How dare Kakarot make such a fool out of him!
Malaka, a senior scientist, and one of Frieza's most trusted medical personnel, stepped forward, his hands steady as he guided Vegeta toward the tank. "Of course, Lord Vegeta. We'll have you back to full strength in no time," he said, his voice betraying none of the anxiety he felt at being so close to the injured maniac.
As they lowered the prince into the healing fluid, his mind was a storm of thoughts, each one more violent than the last. The warmth of the tank enveloped him, easing the pain in his body, but doing nothing to soothe the turmoil within.
Kakarot… The name echoed through his mind like a curse. The low-class Saiyan who had dared to surpass him, to outright humiliate him, even in his Oozaru form! It was unthinkable, unbearable. Vegeta's fists clenched in the fluid, his nails digging into his gloved palms as his thoughts churned. But even as his anger flared, another emotion crept in—a feeling he was unaccustomed to, one that filled him with shame.
Fear.
The power Kakarot had displayed on Earth was unlike anything Vegeta had ever seen, except for Frieza perhaps. When Kakarot had tapped into that terrifying green aura, something primal and ancient had awoken within him—a form of power that Vegeta had only heard whispers of in the legends passed down by the Saiyans.
The Super Saiyan… It had to be.
But how could that be? Vegeta, the Prince of all Saiyans, was destined to be the one to ascend to that legendary status, to rise above all others and lead his people to glory. And yet, Kakarot—a low-born, a disgrace to the Saiyan race—had somehow achieved what Vegeta had only ever dreamed of.
His thoughts flickered to his options, the paths laid out before him. Going back to Earth, seeking revenge against Kakarot… it was tempting, so very tempting. But Vegeta knew, even in his prideful heart, that to do so would be suicide. Kakarot's power, his new transformation—it was something beyond what Vegeta could face, even with the innate boost he would receive from this near-death experience.
He knew he would only get fucked up, and likely killed off this time.
There was only one logical choice, a path that would allow him to regain his status, to become the warrior he was destined to be. He needed the Dragon Balls, not the ones on Earth—they were worthless now—but the ones on Namek. With those, he could wish for immortality, for the strength to surpass Kakarot, to surpass Frieza, and finally claim his rightful place as the ruler of the universe.
The healing tank hummed softly as it worked to mend his broken body, but his mind was far from at ease. He could feel the cold tendrils of doubt creeping into his thoughts, whispering that even with immortality, even with the Dragon Balls, there was no guarantee that he could defeat Kakarot.
But he crushed those thoughts with a sneer, his pride refusing to allow such weakness.
He would go to Namek, he would gather the Dragon Balls, and he would become immortal.
And then… then he would return.
But the memory of Kakarot's power, of that raucous green aura and savage strength, lingered in the back of his mind, a shadow that refused to be dispelled. Vegeta's pride told him that he could surpass it, that he would find a way to defeat the one who had shamed him. But deep down, beneath the layers of arrogance and bravado, there was a seed of doubt, a fear that he would never admit to anyone but himself.
And so, as the healing tank worked to restore his body, his mind remained in turmoil. He was the Prince of all Saiyans, destined for greatness, yet he had been humbled in a way that he had never thought possible. Kakarot… the name still filled him with rage, but also with something else, something that gnawed at his very soul.
Respect.
As much as he loathed to admit it, Vegeta couldn't deny the power that Kakarot had displayed. It was a power that demanded recognition, even from one as prideful as Vegeta. But that respect, that grudging acknowledgment, only fueled his desire for revenge, his need to prove that he was the superior warrior.
The healing tank beeped softly as it completed its task, the fluid beginning to drain away. Vegeta's eyes snapped open, the fire of his resolve burning hotter than ever. He would go to Namek, he would claim the Dragon Balls, and he would become the strongest in the goddamn universe.
And then, Kakarot would fall by his hand.
Vegeta ripped off the breathing mask with a snarl, the hiss of escaping air matching the simmering rage in his chest. He stepped out of the pod, his muscular frame gleaming with the remnants of the fluid, but the Prince of all Saiyans paid no mind to his nude appearance. He was already reaching for the blue bodysuit, gloves, and boots laid out for him by the attending medical team.
Malaka, the lead doctor, observed him with a cautious eye as the Saiyan warrior slipped into his new armor. The plates were fresh and unscathed, unlike the shattered remnants of the previous set, which still lay in a heap on the floor. The scientist couldn't help but comment, his voice steady but carrying a trace of concern.
"Judging by the state of your previous armor, you were on the verge of death, Lord Vegeta," Malaka noted, adjusting his spectacles. "And I couldn't help but notice that Nappa didn't return with you. I assume he's… dead?"
Vegeta snorted, not bothering to glance at the doctor as he tightened the straps on his armor. The memory of Nappa's demise was nothing more than an afterthought—weakness deserved no pity.
"Dead? He was a fool," Vegeta muttered, his tone dismissive. "He couldn't even handle Kakarot's underlings. His death was a mercy."
Malaka nodded slowly, though he couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that crept into his thoughts. The Saiyan's near-death experience had clearly done nothing to quell his insatiable drive for power, and that made the doctor uneasy.
"I hope you're not planning on seeking revenge, Lord Vegeta," Malaka ventured, his voice cautious. "It might not end well for you next time. I may not be around to patch you up again."
Vegeta's eyes flicked to Malaka, a dangerous glint flashing in their depths. "Worry about keeping your instruments working, Malaka," he snapped. "Revenge is beneath me right now. I've got bigger plans."
Malaka wisely chose to remain silent as the Saiyan marched past him, his footsteps echoing down the sterile corridors of the medical bay. The low hum of machinery filled the air, but it did nothing to drown out the turbulent thoughts swirling in Vegeta's mind.
As he strode through the base, his thoughts raced toward Namek and the Dragon Balls. Immortality was within reach, and with it, the power to crush Frieza and Kakarot alike. But as he rounded a corner, lost in his musings, a familiar face stepped into his path.
Cui. An unsightly sight to behold, a grotesque mix of purple skin and oily green scales that gleamed under the harsh lights of the base. His wide, leering grin revealed a mouth full of sharp teeth, and his eyes—narrow with sadistic delight—reflected the very essence of his malicious nature. His armor was also similar to Vegeta's, with a differing color palette.
Case in point, he was disgusting to look at.
"Cui," Vegeta growled, his patience already worn thin.
Cui's grin was as slimy as ever, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight at seeing Vegeta in a state less than his usual arrogance. "Vegeta! I heard you had a little… encounter on Earth. And judging by the way you're limping around here, I'd say it didn't go so well."
Vegeta's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Get out of my way, Cui. I don't have time for your nonsense."
But Cui didn't budge, his grin widening. "Where are you off to in such a hurry, Vegeta? Don't tell me you're thinking of going back for a rematch. I'd hate to see you get yourself killed over something so petty."
Vegeta's temper flared, but he kept his composure, if only just. "What I do is none of your concern, Cui. Now move."
Cui's laugh was sharp and grating, echoing off the walls as he stood his ground. "You really think you're in any shape to make demands, Vegeta? Remember, we are equals in power after all. Did they also give you brain damage? Getting a little too cocky, perhaps?"
Vegeta's scowl deepened. He hated Cui's guts, and when the time came... he was definitely going to destroy him.
"You were never my equal, Cui," he spat, his voice low and venomous. "And you never will be. Now get the hell out of my way."
The ugly soldier chuckled, but there was a sharpness to it, a cutting edge that put Vegeta on alert. "You might want to reconsider your plans, Vegeta. Word around here is that Frieza intercepted your little squad's communications. He's on his way to Namek right now."
What?!
For a split second, Vegeta's heart skipped a beat, the urgency of his situation crashing down on him like a tidal wave. He couldn't afford to waste another second. Without a word, he turned on his heel and made a beeline back toward the medical bay, where Malaka was still fussing over his instruments.
"Give me that scouter," he ordered, his voice brooking no argument.
Malaka hesitated, the device in his hand, but one look at Vegeta's expression was enough to convince him to pass the scouter over. The Saiyan snatched it, strapping it to his face with vigor.
"On second thought, I might need this," he muttered to himself as he headed for the hangar, his mind focused on one thing: reaching Namek before Frieza could gather all the Dragon Balls.
The space-pods were lined up in the hangar, each one gleaming under the harsh lights. The Saiyan wasted no time, leaping into the nearest one and punching in the coordinates for Namek. The pod's hatch sealed shut with a hiss, the small cockpit filling with the familiar hum of the engines powering up.
As the pod lifted off, his thoughts raced faster than the stars streaking by outside. If Frieza reached Namek first... if he got his hands on the Dragon Balls before Vegeta did... it would all be over.
There would be no immortality, no revenge, no future.
Everyone would be fucked.
But Vegeta wasn't one to accept defeat. Not now, he was too far gone into his insurrection. He would reach Namek first, he would gather the Dragon Balls, and he would become immortal despite the odds. And when that time came, both Frieza and Kakarot would pay the ultimate price for underestimating the Saiyan Prince.
CRASHH!
The impact reverberated through the ground, sending shockwaves across the landscape as Vegeta's space-pod smashed into the surface of Planet Namek. Dust and debris shot into the air, momentarily obscuring the vibrant green skies. As the dust began to settle, the pod's hatch hissed open with a metallic groan, steam billowing out as the Saiyan Prince stepped out onto the alien soil.
The air was thick with energy, a tension that hung over the planet like a shroud. Vegeta inhaled deeply, his senses sharpened by the raw power that seemed to permeate every corner of this strange world. He could feel it—the terrifying power of Frieza.
It was mindbogglingly high now that he could actually sense it.
He stood negative zero chance against that.
In spite of his presence, his scouter beeped softly as he clicked it on, the device immediately scanning the area for any signs of life—or more importantly, any threats. The screen blinked to life, displaying various power levels across the horizon, most of them pitiful compared to his own. But there were others—stronger, more familiar signatures that sent a chill of anticipation through him.
"Frieza…" Vegeta muttered to himself, his voice low and dangerous. The mere mention of the tyrant's name filled him with a burning hatred, a fire that had been stoked for years and was now threatening to consume him. His scouter beeped again, confirming what he already suspected. "He brought his lackeys, I see. Zarbon and Dodoria… just as I expected."
His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the landscape, his mind already racing with plans and strategies. He knew he had to be careful; Namek was no ordinary battlefield. The stakes were higher than ever before, and the slightest misstep could mean the difference between victory and annihilation.
But he thrived on this edge, the thrill of the hunt, the anticipation of battle. It was what he lived for.
With a final glance at the horizon, Vegeta was ready for whatever came next. This was the beginning of the end—one way or another, Namek would be the stage where destinies were forged, and where his would finally diverge from the path Frieza had forced him down for so long. He clenched his fists, the air crackling with the raw energy radiating from his body.
"I'll make you pay, Frieza," he vowed under his breath, his voice cold and filled with a murderous intent. "For every humiliation… for every drop of blood… you'll pay with your life."
However, before the prince could make his next move, the scouter beeped again, signaling the presence of another high power level on the horizon. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the readings.
"So, Cui decided to follow me, huh," he scoffed, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "This'll be a nice warmup."
He began to walk slowly away from the crater, the rocky terrain crunching beneath his boots as he moved. His mind was a whirlwind of strategies, each one more ruthless than the last. He knew he didn't stand a chance against Frieza in a fair fight. He needed those Dragon Balls, needed the immortality they could grant him. Only then could he kill Frieza—slowly, painfully, and without fear of retribution.
The scouter beeped again, louder this time, signaling that Cui was closing in.
Vegeta stopped and crossed his arms, waiting for the inevitable confrontation. He didn't have to wait long.
A figure appeared on the horizon, moving quickly toward him. As his adversary landed a few meters away, Vegeta could see the smug grin on his face, the confidence of a man who believed he held all the cards. It was almost laughable.
"Vegeta!" Cui called out, his voice dripping with mockery. "So, you really came all this way just to die on this pathetic little planet? I would have thought you'd have learned your lesson by now."
The Saiyan didn't respond immediately. Instead, he let his gaze drift over Cui, assessing him, calculating.
"Cui," Vegeta finally said, his voice calm but laced with venom. "I'm actually glad you came."
Cui's grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "Is that so? Last I heard, you got your tail handed to you by some low-class Saiyan on Earth. You're weaker than I am now, Vegeta. Face it—you're outmatched."
A low chuckle escaped the Saiyans lips, his amusement clear. "Outmatched? By you? Don't make me laugh, Cui. You have no idea what you're up against."
"So, Vegeta, it looks like it's time to finally settle the score. I'm afraid you have such a low power level that you won't be much of a challenge to me. But I'll still have fun with you," Cui sneered, his arrogance apparent.
"I don't think so, Cui," the prince replied, his tone darkening as he slowly began to power up. "See, I learned a couple of new tricks. My time on Earth was good for teaching me some brand-new techniques."
"Yeah, right," Cui scoffed. "Let me guess. You learned how to run away? There isn't anything new about that."
"I learned to conceal my power! Grrr... rraaaaaaaaaahhhhh!" Vegeta's cobalt aura flared as his power level began to surge.
"What the—his power level is rising. It keeps getting higher..." Cui muttered in disbelief as he watched Vegeta's scouter spike.
"Now remind me," Vegeta growled, his voice dripping with menace as veins bulged on his forehead, "what was it about your power level putting mine to shame?!"
"Agh! But how?! The two of us have always been on par with each other!" the purple alien's confidence began to waver even more as he struggled to comprehend the sudden rise in Vegeta's strength.
"Imbecile," he spat, his voice filled with disdain. "My body's been subjected to combat situations you can only dream of! The battle on Earth nearly claimed my life. Do you really think I'd still be on par with someone content with hiding behind Frieza his whole career?! AaaaaaaAAAAAAAAHHHH!"
"24,000... 27,000... 30,000!" Cui's voice trembled as he read Vegeta's power level, the realization of his impending doom settling in.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHH!" the Saiyan's roar echoed across the immediate Namekian landscape, his power now dwarfing Cui's.
Cui's fear turned to desperation. "Wait, wait, Vegeta. Just hear me out. I have the craziest idea! I can help you, you see. I'll join your side, together you and I can probably take Frieza. I never liked the guy, I was just following orders! C'mon, just think about it! We can start with Zarbon and Dodoria and work our way up!"
"Spare me this pathetic display and scrounge up some dignity before you die," Vegeta said coldly, his eyes narrowing as he advanced toward Cui menacingly.
"J-just trust me, please... huh? Lord Frieza!" Cui suddenly shouted, his eyes widening as he pointed behind Vegeta.
"What—?" Vegeta turned his head, his instincts sharp.
"Made ya look!" Cui laughed, his voice filled with false bravado. With that, he summoned as much ki as he could into his left palm, and blasted Vegeta with all of his might. Jetting upward in a frenzy, he pressed on with more and more, adding to his surprising onslaught in order to ensure the evisceration of his former equal in power.
BOOOM BOOOM BOOOOM! Upon examining his handiwork and smiling in satisfaction, Cui dropped back down to the earth of Namek, sighing in relief at his victory.
Did he really just do that? How could Vegeta be such an idiot?
"HeheheHAHAHAHAHA! He's even dumber than he looks. I can't believe he fell for that old gag!"
But before Cui could savor his moment of perceived victory, he heard a voice that sent a cold chill down his spine.
"Really? So that was it then. I have to say, even for you, that was a pretty dismal move."
Cui's laughter died in his throat as he realized his mistake. "No... no! H-how can it be?"
"If there was a brain in that head of yours, you'd know that my speed increased as well," Vegeta said, his voice chillingly calm. "Which means unfortunately for you that little ruse only succeeded in pissing me off."
Cui stumbled backward, tripping over his feet as he tried to flee, his red aura flaring in a desperate attempt to escape. He took to the air, flying as fast as he could, his heart pounding with fear.
But it was already too late.
Vegeta's blue aura burst to life as he intercepted Cui's flight with blinding speed. In an instant, Vegeta drove his fist into Cui's stomach, nearly piercing through his body with the sheer force of the blow. Cui's eyes bulged in shock and pain as he was sent reeling into the sky, unable to move any longer of his own will.
"Hehe, goodbye," Vegeta said with a smirk as he watched Cui's face twist in terror amidst his stupor of agony.
With two fingers raised, the Saiyan aimed at his helpless victim.
A beam of invisible energy shot from Vegeta's fingertips, striking Cui and detonating within him. Cui's scream was cut short as his body was engulfed in a brilliant explosion, his form disintegrating into nothingness as the blast lit up the sky. The shockwave rippled through the air, sending debris flying in all directions.
Vegeta lowered his hand, the smirk returning to his face. "Dirty Fireworks."
With the gnat squashed, his thoughts immediately returned to the task at hand—the Dragon Balls. He clicked his scouter again, scanning for any signs of the mystical orbs. The device beeped, indicating multiple power levels in the distance—none as high as Frieza's, but enough to be of note.
"Zarbon… Dodoria… and Frieza," Vegeta mused, his mind already racing with possible strategies. "I'll have to pick them off one by one, starting with the weakest. But I can't afford to waste time… Frieza is too close."
He took to the air, flying low to the ground to avoid detection. The stakes had never been higher, and Vegeta knew that one wrong move could mean the end—not just for him, but for any chance of defeating Frieza and claiming his rightful place as the ruler of the universe.
But even as he flew, a nagging thought still persisted in the back of his mind—a memory of Kakarot on Earth, his power surging to unimaginable levels. It was a power Vegeta had never seen before, and it haunted him. If Kakarot could reach such heights, then so could he. But he needed time… and the Dragon Balls would give him that.
As Vegeta sped toward his next target, the green skies of Namek seemed to darken, as if the planet itself sensed the coming storm.
After a period of time moving around, the Saiyan's scouter beeped softly, indicating the presence of several life forms—a modest group of Namekians, unaware of the danger approaching them. The village was serene, with the native Namekians tending to their crops and children playing in the fields. It was a scene of peace, a stark contrast to the violence that was about to be unleashed.
Vegeta landed with a thud, the ground beneath his feet cracking under the sheer force of his power. The Namekians turned in alarm, their wide eyes reflecting fear as they beheld the sinister figure before them. His expression was devoid of mercy, his lips curling into a cruel smirk as he surveyed his prey.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" his voice was a low growl, dripping with malice. "It looks like I've found myself a nice little treasure trove. You Namekians really thought you could hide from me, didn't you?"
An elder stepped forward, his face a mask of contrary emotion to the fear in his eyes. "We mean you no harm, stranger," he said, his voice steady. "Please, leave our village in peace."
Vegeta chuckled darkly, his gaze fixed on the elder with a predatory intensity. "Peace? I'm afraid you're mistaken, old man. I'm not here to negotiate. I'm here for the Dragon Ball, and I'm not leaving without it."
The elder's expression hardened, and he gestured for the villagers to retreat. "We will not let you take it," he declared, his voice filled with resolve. "You may have power, but we have something far greater—our unity, our spirit. We will not yield to tyranny."
Vegeta's smirk widened, his amusement clear. "Spirit? Unity? You really think that matters to someone like me? I'm the Prince of all Saiyans, and I don't have time for your pathetic ideals."
Without another word, Vegeta struck with blinding speed. His fist collided with the elder's chest, sending him flying into the nearest building with a sickening crunch. The elder slumped to the ground, unconscious, as the other villagers screamed in horror.
"No!" one of the Namekians cried out, rushing to the elder's side. "You monster! How could you—"
"Bang." Vegeta silenced him with a single finger beam of energy, the attack smoking the Namekian that dared speak on his name, leaving him to collapse in a lifeless heap. The remaining villagers scattered, their attempts to flee met with merciless precision as the Saiyan in the same vein picked them off one by one.
The village was soon bathed in a gruesome silence, the only sound the faint crackling of flames from the buildings Vegeta had destroyed in his rampage. He stood amidst the carnage, smirking with glee, his eyes gleaming with a savage satisfaction.
This was the power he craved, the dominance he had been denied on Earth. This was his birthright.
Stepping over the bodies of the fallen Namekians, Vegeta made his way to the village's central building. It was larger than the others, its exterior marked with ancient symbols and inscriptions. The Saiyan could practically feel the Dragon Ball's energy emanating from within, a faint but unmistakable pulse that drew him closer.
He blasted the door off its hinges and stepped inside, his scouter beeping louder as it honed in on the Dragon Ball's location. The interior of the building was sparse, save for a single pedestal at the far end of the room. Upon it rested a massive orange orb, its surface glimmering with seven stars.
"There you are," Vegeta murmured, his voice low and triumphant. He approached the Dragon Ball, his fingers grazing its surface. The power contained within it was intoxicating, a promise of invincibility that sent a shiver down his spine. "With this, I'm one step closer to immortality. One step closer to defeating Frieza… and Kakarot."
But Vegeta wasn't a fool. He knew Frieza had a massive head start, scouring the planet for the Dragon Balls just as he was.
Vegeta's mind raced as he considered his options. He couldn't afford to lose this Dragon Ball to Frieza's forces, but he also couldn't keep it with him. The tyrant's scouter would likely eventually detect his presence, and then he would be cornered with no way out.
A grin spread across Vegeta's face as an idea took root. He lifted the Dragon Ball and walked out of the building, his gaze settling on a large body of water just beyond the village. It was deep, dark, and impenetrable—exactly the hiding place he needed.
With a nonchalant motion, Vegeta tossed the Dragon Ball into the water, watching with satisfaction as it sank beneath the surface, disappearing from view.
"Let's see you find it now, Frieza," he muttered, crossing his arms as he stared at the spot where the Dragon Ball had vanished.
The sky above him rumbled ominously, as if in response to his challenge. Vegeta ignored it, his thoughts already moving to the next phase of his plan. He needed to gather the remaining Dragon Balls before Frieza did, and he needed to do it quickly.
There was no room for error.
As the days of the planet with three suns proceeded endlessly, Vegeta's boots crunched softly against the rocky terrain as he moved with careful, calculated precision. His mind was a whirlwind of frustration and urgency; every village he had scouted so far was nothing but ruins, the Namekians massacred, and the Dragon Balls gone. Each discovery twisted the knot of tension in his chest tighter, knowing that every second wasted brought him closer to the inevitable confrontation with Frieza—a confrontation he wasn't ready for at all.
"Damn it," Vegeta hissed under his breath, clenching his fists. "Frieza's moving faster than I anticipated. If he's already collected the Dragon Balls…"
The thought trailed off, replaced by the cold realization that Frieza likely had all but one of the Dragon Balls. The one he had managed to hide underwater was a temporary reprieve, a clever ploy, but not a solution. And Vegeta knew it.
"Keep your ki low, Vegeta," he muttered to himself, a mantra that had kept him alive on this accursed planet so far. If Frieza detected him, it would be all over. But how long could he keep this up? How long could he play the shadows, hiding like a rat from the same tyrant he had once served under?
Suddenly, his scouter beeped softly, picking up a power level nearby—large, moving quickly, and alone. His eyes narrowed as he adjusted the settings, focusing in on the source. It was Dodoria, one of Frieza's lackeys, heading somewhere with clear intent. But more interestingly, there was another power level—significantly stronger than Dodoria's—that seemed to be the target.
A wicked grin spread across his face. "Dodoria... how perfect." His voice was laced with venomous satisfaction. "Time to get answers."
Without hesitation, Vegeta's blue aura flared to life around him, his body cutting through the sky like a missile. He moved with deliberate speed, keeping his power under control but allowing just enough to surprise Dodoria when he struck. The landscape below blurred, Namek's rolling hills and serene lakes a distant memory as his focus zeroed in on his target.
Dodoria's bulky form loomed closer, oblivious to the Saiyan prince's approach. Vegeta's eyes gleamed with malice as he rocketed toward the violet soldier's side. With a burst of speed, he planted a savage kick into Dodoria's ribs, the force of the blow sending the brute spiraling through the air like a ragdoll, crashing into a distant rock formation.
DOOOOSHH! The ground shook violently, rocks crumbling and dust clouding the air from the sheer impact.
The Frieza soldier groaned in pain as he struggled to push himself up from the ground, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "V-Vegeta…?!" he stammered, eyes wide with fear and disbelief. "What the hell are you doing here?!"
Vegeta floated down gracefully, his boots touching the ground with a quiet thud. He crossed his arms, his expression cold and unyielding. "I could ask you the same thing, Dodoria. But it seems I already know the answer." His eyes gleamed with malice. "You've been hunting the Dragon Balls for Frieza, haven't you?"
Dodoria's face twisted into a sneer as he forced himself to stand, clutching his side in pain. "You fool," he spat, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "You think you can take on Frieza? You don't stand a chance, Vegeta. If you're smart, you'll join me—"
Vegeta's eyes darkened, his smirk fading into a sneer. "Frieza, huh? Do you really think that name scares me anymore, Dodoria? I'm not the same warrior who cowered under that tyrant's thumb. I've seen what true power looks like... and Frieza's time is coming to an end. But you won't be around to see it."
Dodoria's expression twisted into one of pure rage as he struggled to his feet. "You arrogant Saiyan! You think you can defeat me?!"
Vegeta descended slowly, touching down on the ground with grace. "Defeat you? No, Dodoria. I'm going to break you."
Dodoria roared, charging Vegeta with all the fury he could muster. His fists swung wildly, his massive frame barreling toward him with all the subtlety of a stampeding beast. But Vegeta was ready. Dodging each strike with ease, he weaved through Dodoria's attacks like a specter, his movements fluid and precise.
"You're slow, Dodoria," he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "You've always been slow. Did you really think brute strength was all it ever took?"
Dodoria growled, frustration boiling over as he lunged at Vegeta, trying to crush him in a bear hug. But Vegeta sidestepped effortlessly, delivering a brutal elbow to Dodoria's spine that would have sent the larger warrior crashing to the ground once more if not for the Saiyan grabbing both of his wrists and pulling them back as he pressed his knee into Dodoria's back, threatening to kick straight through him on purpose.
"This is pathetic," Vegeta spat, his voice a low growl. "You're a disgrace, Dodoria. But before I kill you, you're going to give me the answers I need."
Dodoria gasped for breath, his body trembling from the pain. But Vegeta wasn't finished. Kneeing his charge in the spine once more, the spiky headed soldier nearly wanted to die right then and there.
"Did you really think Frieza would protect you? That he cared about you?" Vegeta continued, his voice now eerily calm. "You were always just a pawn, Dodoria—a disposable tool. And now… you're nothing. So, you're going to tell me everything I want to know, starting with where you were headed just now."
"Agh! I-I was scouring the planet for the remaining D-Dragon Balls—" Dodoria stammered, panic setting in as he realized there was no escape.
"How many does he already have?" Vegeta's voice was sharp, each word cutting like a blade.
"F-five, and one of our soldiers discovered a n-new village! Frieza dispatched me to check it out—" Dodoria's words tumbled out in a frantic rush, his fear palpable.
"Considering the scouters, you should've been able to find this place a lot faster. Why did it take so long?" Vegeta pressed on, his patience thinning.
"When we got the fifth Dragon Ball, some Namekian named Moori destroyed all of our scouters! Rendered us blind! Ever since, we've been on a goose chase with a blindfold, trying to find two more Dragon Balls on an entire planet," Dodoria gasped, the desperation in his voice growing. "Speaking of which, h-how do you still have yours?! Be a good little monkey, and hand it over, and maybe Frieza may spare your life. You are his favorite pet after all."
"When we got the fifth Dragon Ball, some Namekian named Moori destroyed all of our scouters! Rendered us blind! Ever since, we've been on a goose chase with a blindfold, trying to find two more Dragon Balls on an entire planet," Dodoria gasped, the desperation in his voice growing. "Speaking of which, h-how do you still have yours?! Be a good little monkey, and hand it over, and maybe Frieza may spare your life. You are his favorite pet after all."
Vegeta's eyes widened briefly as he absorbed this new information.
No more scouters? That was very, very interesting indeed.
A slow, wicked grin spread across his face as a plan formed in his mind. Without a word, he released Dodoria's arms, letting them drop uselessly to his sides. He then reached up, unfastening his own scouter from his ear.
He held it out in front of Dodoria for a moment, as if offering a lifeline, before casually tossing it toward him.
"Here, you want it?" Vegeta mocked, his voice dripping with false generosity. "You can have it."
Dodoria fumbled for the scouter, his hands trembling as he caught it. His breath came out in a relieved sigh as he quickly attached it to his face, the familiar click of the device settling into place offering him a brief, fleeting sense of security.
For a moment, he believed he might actually escape with his life.
"Why… why would you do this?" Dodoria asked, confusion flickering across his brutish features as he glanced at Vegeta. "Why would you give me this?"
Vegeta's smirk deepened, his eyes narrowing with cold disdain. "Because I have no need for such a useless piece of junk," he replied, his tone laced with contempt. "It's beneath me now."
Dodoria, trying to grasp some semblance of control, sneered as he attempted to reclaim his usual bravado. "Thanks, Vegeta. Maybe you're a bit smarter than the rest of your people, who Frieza personally wiped out decades ago by destroying Planet Vegeta. Perhaps you can return to his side without having to join them!"
But Vegeta's face remained impassive, his expression unchanging. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his voice dropping to a deadly tone. "I already knew that. I don't care about what happened to my people or my father; they were weak. They deserved to die. Just like you do, and you'll be joining them shortly."
Dodoria's smirk vanished as the weight of Vegeta's words sank in. The fleeting hope he had felt only moments before was obliterated, replaced by a cold, paralyzing fear. He could see it in Vegeta's eyes—there would be no mercy, no second chances. He was fucked.
Vegeta's grin widened, feeding off the terror that radiated from Dodoria. The game was over. There would be no escape.
"W-Wait, Vegeta! We can... we can team up! Work together, and overthrow Frieza—"
But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Vegeta's face was stone-cold, his eyes devoid of mercy.
"Shut the hell up and just run away like the spineless coward you are! All of you bastards are pathetic!"
Dodoria didn't need to be told twice—he turned and fled, his blue aura bursting to life as he rocketed away.
But it was all for nothing.
"DIE!" With that one word, Vegeta unleashed a blue energy wave, a blinding blast of light that consumed Dodoria's entire body, the roar of the attack drowning out the screams of death that emanated from the victim. The force of the blast was immense, shaking the ground and sending shockwaves through the surrounding area. When the light faded, there was nothing left of Dodoria but scattered ashes, drifting away on the wind.
Vegeta stood in silence, feeling no satisfaction, no sense of victory.
Dodoria was just another stepping stone, another obstacle removed on his path to ultimate power.
All this encounter amounted to was a mocking reminder of the real threat that still loomed over him...
Frieza was still at large.
And Vegeta knew… that he was running out of time.
Shortly after further exploration, Vegeta stopped to stand on the edge of the crater his space-pod had created upon landing, his gaze sharp and calculating. The air around him was crackling, every fiber of his being on high alert. He could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on him—he was in deep, and his options were running out.
The usual cocky smirk he wore had faded, replaced by a look of anxiety.
In the direction that Dodoria was heading happened to be another power substantially greater than his own. He was not a delusional or optimistic person, he saw reality for what it was more and more. He no choice: it was the difference between life and death. If the gap was that big, he would do his due diligence and avoid it.
And also, he thought about a direct assault on Frieze's ship, as he had snooped around it while suppressing his energy. However, Frieza never let the Dragon Balls out of his sight, and even if he created a diversion there'd be an almost zero percent chance that he escaped with all of them without being caught, scouter or no scouter. His former, well current, overlord would simply react too fast to his tactics due to his overwhelming speed and power.
It was suicide. He'd be as good as dead.
Loathe he was to admit it, if Kakarot were here... he'd be the perfect distraction!
And even worse than that, he knew it was a possibility that this particular scenario would occur, but his fears were confirmed now. Four of the five power signatures he sensed earlier were far greater than his own—monstrous, even. There was no mistaking the energies that were rapidly approaching from space.
"Damn it," Vegeta muttered under his breath, his fist clenching so hard that his knuckles turned white within his gloves. "Of all the times for Frieza to call in the Ginyu Force..."
The thought alone was enough to send a chill down his spine. The Ginyu Force was a group of elite mercenaries under Frieza's command, each member boasting strength that could rival even the strongest Saiyan warriors in their Oozaru form. Vegeta had seen them in action before—brutal, efficient, and utterly loyal to Frieza.
If they were on their way here, then his cover was all but blown.
Vegeta's mind raced as he considered his options. He was a warrior, the prince of the Saiyan race, but even he knew when the odds were stacked too high. If he stayed on Namek, he would be facing certain death—not just from Frieza, but from the Ginyu Force as well.
But if he fled...
Thinking about the Dragon Ball he had stashed earlier beneath the water's surface, it was his ticket to immortality, to finally being able to kill Frieza. But what good would it do him if he were dead before he could even make the wish?
"Think, Vegeta, think!" he hissed to himself, pacing back and forth like a caged beast. "There's no way I can challenge Frieza head-on, not yet. I need more time—more power."
But that window of opportunity was rapidly closing.
He needed to act fast. To find some method of victory.
"Damn you, Frieza," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he glanced up at the sky. He could feel the Ginyu Force closing in, their monstrous ki signatures blazing through the atmosphere like beacons of death.
They would be here soon, and when they arrived, they would find him if he stayed.
And then he'd be a deadman.
He had to get the hell off this planet. Now.
In a flash, Vegeta launched himself into the air, his aura blazing around him as he sped toward the lake where he had hidden the Dragon Ball at full throttle. The water rippled as he descended, his eyes scanning the depths for the golden orb. It didn't take long—his instincts were too sharp, his senses too attuned. With a swift dive, he plunged into the water, emerging seconds later with the Dragon Ball clutched tightly in his hand.
He glanced back toward the horizon, his senses on high alert. He could feel them—five distinct power levels, all converging on his location. The Ginyu Force was nearly upon him, their speed unmatched as they closed the distance with terrifying efficiency.
"There's no time," Vegeta muttered, his voice a low growl. "I've got to move—now."
He didn't bother to look back as he rocketed toward his space-pod, the Dragon Ball tucked securely in his lap. Every second counted, every heartbeat bringing the Ginyu Force closer. He could feel the ground tremble beneath him as they neared, their ki signatures like burning suns in the distance.
With a final burst of speed, he reached his space-pod, the hatch opening with a hiss as he leaped inside. His fingers flew over the control panel, inputting the coordinates for his escape with practiced precision. He didn't have time to think, only to act.
The space-pod roared to life, its engines flaring as it lifted off the ground, leaving the barren landscape of Namek behind. Vegeta's heart pounded in his chest as he felt the pod break through the first layer of the atmosphere, the oppressive weight of the planet's gravity easing as he entered the cold void of space.
But it wasn't over yet.
His further refined senses told him all he needed to know. The Ginyu Force had closed in, their energy signatures blazing like stars as they homed in on the crater where his pod had landed. If they caught him before he reached escape velocity, it was all over.
But luck was on his side—just as Vegeta's pod breached the upper atmosphere, the Ginyu Force landed in the crater below, their leader's voice carrying through the void as he cursed in frustration.
"Damnit!" Captain Ginyu snarled, his fists clenching as he glared up at the sky. "That coward got away!"
"Not for long," Jeice muttered, his red eyes narrowing as he scanned the horizon. "We'll track him down—there's nowhere in the universe he can hide from us."
But as Vegeta's pod slipped out of orbit and into the endless expanse of space, he couldn't help the small smirk that crossed his lips.
He had escaped—barely, but he had escaped.
And now, with the Dragon Ball in his possession, he had a chance. A slim chance, but a chance nonetheless.
As the stars streaked past his viewport, his thoughts turned once more to Frieza. He had narrowly avoided death today, but he knew that this was only the beginning.
The stakes had never been higher, the danger never more real.
But that was exactly what Vegeta thrived on.
"I'll get that immortality at some point," he whispered to himself, his eyes burning. "And when I do… they're all dead."
But even as he spoke the words, there was a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach—a sense that something far worse than what he could even fathom was looming on the horizon. Something that even immortality might not protect him from.
But that was a problem for another day.
For now, Vegeta allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. He had outmaneuvered the Ginyu Force, escaped Frieza's grasp, and secured a Dragon Ball in order to prevent the unthinkable. The game was far from over, but the last move was his.
If he couldn't become immortal, neither could Frieza.
As Vegeta's pod hurtled through the void of space, the Saiyan Prince reclined in his seat, his mind a storm of anger and frustration, his body tense with the anxiety of his situation. The days prior on Namek had been nothing but a series of escalating horrors, each new development worse than the last.
His eyes snapped open as the Dragon Ball he clutched in his lap suddenly dimmed and turned to stone, the once glowing orb now nothing more than a useless rock. Vegeta's heart skipped a beat as he stared at it, his mind racing to comprehend what had just happened.
"What the hell...?" he muttered, the confusion quickly morphing into dread. "This... this can't be good."
The implications hit him like a punch to the gut. The Dragon Balls were useless now, which could only mean one thing—either the last Namekian had been killed, or the creator of the Dragon Balls had been taken out. Either way, his first plan for immortality had officially crumbled before his very eyes.
Not that his plan hadn't already been thwarted the moment Cui informed him of Frieza being on Namek, but he digressed.
Before he could process this fully, his pod shuddered violently, the entire structure trembling as if in fear.
Vegeta's eyes widened in shock as he felt the massive surge of energy ripple through the fabric of space itself, the tremors echoing from a multitude of light-years away.
"No... no, no, no..." he whispered, his voice growing more frantic. "That... that power..."
It could only be one thing.
A planet had just exploded, but not just any planet—Planet Namek.
The explosion was so massive, so catastrophic, that its shockwaves were being felt across an interstellar body of innumerable stars, planets, and systems. It was as if a part of the universe had just been ripped apart.
"Frieza," Vegeta snarled, his teeth grinding together in rage. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place with terrifying clarity.
Frieza had blown up Namek.
Whether he had realized the Dragon Balls wouldn't work or killed the last Namekian, it didn't matter.
The result was the same—Frieza had ensured that no one would gain immortality, not him, and certainly not Vegeta.
But now he was left with an even more dire situation. He wasn't immortal. He was still very much mortal, and now, he was target number one on Frieza's hit list. The Emperor of the Universe would be hunting him down with a vengeance, and there would be no escape. Even without the scouter, he knew his pod was part of Frieza's network, linked to his empire.
There was no hiding from him.
"Damnit!" he roared, his fist slamming into the control panel beside him, the metal denting under his strength. "How did it come to this? How could I let this happen?!"
He was out of options, out of time, and most dangerously, out of allies. His thoughts turned to the one person he had never imagined he would consider in this situation—Kakarot. That low-class Saiyan had managed to surprise him on Earth, had even driven him to the brink of death. Kakarot had power—real power, the kind Vegeta would need if he were to stand any chance against Frieza.
But the very thought of relying on Kakarot for help made his blood boil with fury. He was the Prince of all Saiyans! The idea of teaming up with a low-class warrior was an insult to everything he stood for. But what choice did he have? His pride was at war with his survival instincts, each one pulling him in different directions.
"Curse you, Kakarot!" Vegeta hissed, his hands shaking with a mixture of rage and helplessness. "Curse you and your damned power!"
But survival was the name of the game now, and if that meant swallowing his pride—if only for a moment—then so be it. He needed Kakarot, but not as an ally. No, Kakarot would be leverage, a tool. Perhaps he could use Kakarot to help him find the Earth's Dragon Balls, to become immortal once more. And when Frieza and Kakarot inevitably clashed, Vegeta would be there, waiting for the perfect moment to eliminate the last man standing.
A sinister grin spread across Vegeta's face as the plan began to take shape in his mind.
It wasn't ideal, but it was the best option he had.
"Yes," he started, his voice filled with disdain. "I'll use you to kill Frieza… and then I'll kill you myself."
With his course set, the prince activated the sleeping gas in his pod, allowing himself to drift into a restless slumber. His dreams were haunted by visions of destruction, of battles yet to come, and of a universe that would soon be his to rule. But there was no peace in those dreams, only the gnawing sense of impending doom.
Lurkng just beyond the horizon...
A terror greater than hell itself.