Her feet barely touched the blue grass as she tracked Dodoria's ki signature across Namek's endless horizon. Each step brought warring impulses - the calculating warrior her father had crafted wanting to plan, study, strategize, while her mother's pendant seemed to burn against her chest with three years of suppressed rage. Even her growing ki sense, usually giving her headaches from overthinking, now burned with startling clarity.
Three years of carefully maintained control fell away with each step. The perfect warrior her father had crafted, the sharp mind that always planned first... all of it disappeared beneath one memory: Dodoria's satisfied smirk as he'd announced her mother's "accident."
She'd been too young then to understand the cruelty in his eyes, too naive to question why Frieza's right hand would personally deliver news about one Saiyan's death. But even at five, she wasn't that helpless child anymore.
The pendant beneath her armor felt heavier than usual. Her mother's last gift, pressed into tiny hands before that final mission. Before Dodoria had returned alone, his faux sympathy masked the satisfaction of another Saiyan squad being eliminated.
"All this time," she whispered, suppressing her power level as she gained ground. "A whole month of missions, watching you destroy families while pretending you hadn't torn mine apart."
She thought of the Namekian child crying for his friend, of all the other children who'd lost parents to Frieza's cruelty. Her father would call this personal vendetta an error due to her emotional response. But maybe some battles needed to be personal.
Ahead, Dodoria's bulk cast a shadow across the landscape as he flew, completely unaware of what pursued him. She could almost hear her father's voice - 'A true Saiyan warrior would wait, analyze, and plan the perfect attack.'
But she remembered Gohan, choosing to act rather than analyze when that child was in danger. Sometimes the strongest choice wasn't the most tactical one.
Her power coiled tight within her chest as she closed the distance. Three years of questions would finally have answers. Almost three years of nightmares would end here, beneath Namek's three suns.
She was done analyzing. Done waiting. Done pretending she didn't know exactly who was responsible for her mother's death.
"Found you," she whispered, and let her power level begin to rise. Just when she spotted Dodoria's figure below, another presence made her freeze - her father's ki signature, as familiar as her own. Her body tensed automatically, muscle memory from years of training warring with the memory of his disappointment on Frieza's ship. She masked her ki and ducked behind the elevated landform, falling into the stealth techniques he'd taught her even as she used them to hide from him.
She masked her ki and ducked behind the edge of an elevated landform nearby. As she peered around the rock, she watched Vegeta crush a red scouter beneath his boot.
"Now you'll never find Frieza or the Nameks!" Dodoria yelled.
"But you're wrong." Her father's smug chuckle carried familiar pride. "You see, I discovered that it's possible to sense power levels and energy without a scouter. It's one of the many things I learned during my time on Earth. I could hardly believe it myself. But then I was forced to rethink my notions of possibility."
The words sparked recognition. She remembered trying to discuss this with him back on Frieza's ship, how his distant expression had matched the one he wore now. He must have been reflecting on his battle with Kakarot even then.
"It was...an enlightening experience, to say the least." Her father continued. "After that it was only a matter of time before I could duplicate the technique myself." He snorted. "I'm sure even my daughter has figured it out by now."
"I get it..." Dodoria pointed an accusing finger at Vegeta. "Those little brats with your kid I chased out here were Earthlings! You used them to lure me away from Frieza!"
"They were what?!" Her father's surprise quickly turned to scorn. "Don't be such an idiot. There's no way those Earth scum could have gotten here so quickly. And even if there was, my daughter wouldn't be assisting them."
"You are lying!" Dodoria insisted. "But guess what? I killed your little friends and daughter, Vegeta! And if you stay, I'll do the same to you!"
She stepped out from behind the rocks, unable to resist the opportunity. "Funny, I don't feel very dead." Her voice carried that same edge she'd learned from her father, though now it held a dangerous undercurrent. "Though I suppose accurate reporting was never your strong suit, was it, Dodoria? Just like with my mother's 'accident'?"
Dodoria's face showed genuine fear - he remembered exactly who had been watching his methods all those months, studying, waiting.
"Unfortunately for you, Father was correct about my learning to sense energy," she said, keeping her voice deliberately casual. "It proved quite useful during those 'missions' with you and Zarbon - the ones Frieza tried to pass off as training rather than murder attempts." She narrowed her eyes, letting a knowing smile play across her lips. "Though I should thank you for the power boost."
She noticed her father take a step forward, his expression darkening at the mention of her month away. Dodoria attempted to retreat but froze, suddenly remembering her position behind him.
"Final warning," Dodoria gritted out, unable to fully mask the nervous edge in his voice. "Go now or feel my wrath!"
"No, I think I'll stay." Vegeta's amusement grew as Dodoria remained motionless. "Go ahead. Attack either of us."
"Why Dodoria," Cellera joined in, savoring his growing panic, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were scared."
"Let me guess." Her father's voice carried that dangerous confidence she knew so well. "You were monitoring my fight with Cui earlier. You've seen my power." Dodoria's expression shifted from thoughtful to terrified, confirming Vegeta's suspicions. "I'm right, aren't I? So you know you're outmatched."
"No! That scouter was malfunctioning! You cannot be that strong!" Dodoria launched an energy blast at Vegeta, following it with a barrage of smaller shots.
Cellera rolled her eyes as her father rematerialized before Dodoria unscathed. As the pink warrior prepared another attack, forgetting her presence, she seized her opportunity. Her kick sent him flying toward Vegeta, who caught him with practiced efficiency. Her father spun Dodoria around, grabbing both arms and yanking them backward until joints dislocated.
Dodoria's scream of pain brought a flash of satisfaction, quickly followed by guilt as she imagined her mother's disapproving face. Cellera pushed the image aside - she needed answers more than she needed moral comfort.
Vegeta began to tug even harsher at his arms, causing another cry of pain to erupt. "It's the true might of a Saiyan warrior!" he laughed maniacally. "The more we fight, the stronger our opponents, the stronger we become! So you see, these Earth fools did me a favor when they almost killed me."
"And you proceeded to make blunder after blunder each time you failed to get rid of me and I came back out of that tank." Cellera added. She watched as Dodoria tried to force his way out of her father's hold, but to no avail, her face impassive.
"It's amazing what a coward you can become when you're not hiding behind your master, isn't it? Too bad Frieza won't save you this time!" Her father tormented.
"Please, don't do this! I know what really happened to your homeworld and Rhuba!" Dodoria cried out, making Vegeta pause his ministrations.
She put her thumb to her lip in thought and closed her eyes. Even Cellera was surprised, she had her suspicions with her mother, but she'd always been told their planet was destroyed by asteroids. However, after the month she's been with Dodoria and Zarbon on missions. Seeing Frieza's cruelty….Like a puzzle, everything slowly began to piece together.
"Planet Vegeta was destroyed! It's gone forever. What else is there to know?" Her father asked.
"If you kill me now, you're never going to find out!" Dodoria said, hoping his bargain for a few more moments of living would work.
"Don't let him go."
The words came out in a tone that made even Vegeta pause. Gone was any trace of her mother's mercy or measured control. In that moment, she was purely his daughter - every bit the cold-blooded Saiyan warrior he'd trained her to be. Yet something in her voice carried an edge that could almost rival her father's.
She took measured steps toward Dodoria, her usual analytical movements replaced by the predatory grace of an executioner. For a brief moment, Vegeta saw Rhuba in her stance, in the set of her jaw - but where his partner's anger had always burned hot and quick, their daughter's rage held an icy precision that made him almost grateful she wasn't facing him.
"Start talking." The command held none of her usual careful consideration. Her eyes, so like her mother's, had gone dark and empty - reflecting the same merciless void he'd cultivated in himself after Rhuba's death. The sight stirred something uncomfortable in his chest, a feeling he quickly suppressed.
"A-Aren't you going to-" Dodoria's stammering cut off as Cellera raised her hand to his face, energy gathering in her palm with deadly intent.
Dodoria began explaining how the story of Planet Vegeta's destruction had been fabricated. Each word confirmed suspicions Cellera had harbored during her month under Frieza's command. Not meteors, but their supposed protector had destroyed their home. The same tyrant who demanded their loyalty had orchestrated their near-extinction, systematically eliminating Saiyan squads by sacrificing his own soldiers to avoid suspicion.
Her analytical mind pieced together all the "accidents," all the failed missions that had claimed Saiyan lives. She thought of her mother - another casualty in Frieza's careful culling of their race. The pendant beneath her armor felt heavier with each revelation.
"And Rhuba?" her father's voice cut through her thoughts, tighter than she'd ever heard it. For the first time since Earth, she heard something beneath his usual cold control - raw pain that matched her own.
"I was under orders," Dodoria stammered, his bravado crumbling under Cellera's empty stare. "Lord Frieza said Rhuba was becoming too influential among the remaining Saiyans. She wasn't like the rest of you - she gave quick deaths when she should have shown the might of Frieza through torture, found ways to complete missions without maximum casualties." His eyes darted between father and daughter. "You remember how she was, Vegeta. She didn't revel in the brutality like other Saiyans, always talking about how there was strength in precision over power, about finding another path beyond Frieza's control-"
"The truth," Cellera interrupted, her voice carrying that same void as her eyes. "About how she died."
Dodoria's nervous laugh died as her energy blast grew brighter. "Like I said, I was just following ord-"
"You enjoyed it." The words came out soft, almost contemplative. "Every mission this past month, I watched you. The way you smiled when families tried to protect each other. The satisfaction in your eyes when children screamed for their parents." The energy in her palm pulsed with each observation. "Just like you smiled when you told Father about her 'accident.'
Vegeta's grip tightened on Dodoria's arms, his own memories of that day surfacing. His daughter had been too young to understand the cruel pleasure in Dodoria's expression then, but he'd seen it. Had spent years suppressing the urge to act on that knowledge, knowing they couldn't afford to move against Frieza's right hand.
"She fought well," Dodoria's fear finally cracked his facade. "Better than expected for someone so soft. But orders were orders, and Lord Frieza-"
"Wanted her dead, yes." Cellera's free hand moved to the pendant beneath her armor. "But you're the one who chose to make her suffer first."
The energy gathering in her palm shifted from its usual precise blue to something darker, crackling with unrestrained hatred. This wasn't the controlled warrior her father had crafted or the merciful killer her mother had inspired. This was something new - a fusion of tactical analysis and raw fury, focused into a single purpose.
"Every mission, every death - you took pleasure in destroying families," Cellera's voice remained cold as the energy in her palm stabilized into deadly precision. "But family is all we Saiyans had left after Frieza destroyed our world. And you took mine apart piece by piece."
She met her father's gaze again, seeing her own pain reflected there beneath his hardened exterior. They shared this moment of understanding - about their planet, about her mother, about everything that had been stolen from them. But where her father's expression held familiar rage, something else crystallized in Cellera's mind.
"You're right about one thing, Dodoria," she said, her energy blast taking on a focused intensity. "My mother was different. She believed in protecting what mattered, not just destroying what stood in our way." Her thoughts flickered to Gohan, to Piccolo's sacrifice, to all she'd witnessed on Earth. "And now I understand why Frieza feared that most of all."
The blast that followed was swift, precise - not from mercy, but because she refused to become what Dodoria was, what Frieza wanted them all to be. As his body disintegrated, she allowed herself one final cold satisfaction:
"Burn in Hell."
She felt her father's approval at her execution, but something had shifted between them. Where he saw vindication for their race's destruction, she saw a warning about the path of endless vengeance. The Earth fighters' words echoed in her mind - about fighting to protect rather than destroy, about finding strength in something beyond mere power.
"Father," she said quietly, turning to face him fully. "What Dodoria revealed changes everything. But not in the way you might think."
"So Dodoria wasn't lying about the Earthlings," Vegeta's voice carried that dangerous edge she knew too well. "Or about you being with them."
Cellera turned to face her father, chin lifting in a gesture he'd seen countless times from Rhuba. "No, he wasn't. They're here seeking their own wish from the Dragon Balls."
"And you thought to help them?" His laugh held no humor. "The same warriors who humiliated us on Earth? Who made you soft enough to remove your own tail?"
"They showed me there's more than one kind of strength," she said, standing her ground despite his growing anger. "What Dodoria just confirmed - about our planet, our people - proves what we suspected. Frieza feared our growing power, what we might become if we united against him."
"Your mother's mercy and ideology got her killed," Vegeta snapped, though something flickered behind his harsh tone. "And now you stand here, spouting the same weak sentiments she did."
"Is that really what you believe?" Cellera's voice softened, remembering countless small moments when her father had watched her train with Rhuba, how his expression would soften when he thought she wasn't looking. "Or is it what Frieza taught us to believe? Mother showed us another path, but Frieza eliminated her for the same reason he destroyed our planet - he couldn't risk any Saiyan showing there might be more than just serving his will." She took a step back, feeling the distance between them grow into something more than physical space. "I won't stop you from seeking your wish, Father. But I won't help you become another Frieza either."
For a moment, she saw conflict war across his features - the same look he'd worn years ago watching her mother train their daughter in precision over power, mercy over cruelty. But his expression hardened again, burying whatever emotion had surfaced.
"Then you're as weak as your mother in the end," Vegeta's voice was cold, though something in his eyes betrayed the lie. His energy began to rise. "And that same softness she had will doom you too."
Cellera recognized his stance - the same one he'd taken countless times during their training. But this wasn't training, and they both knew it. "Father-"
His movement was too fast even for her enhanced battle senses. One moment she was facing him, the next his hand connected with the base of her neck. As consciousness faded, she caught a glimpse of his expression - the same look he'd worn when her mother left for that final mission.
"So become strong and prove otherwise," he said softly, knowing she was already too far gone to hear. "But don't let what all your mother and I have done to keep you safe be in vain."
He lowered her unconscious form to the ground, allowing himself one moment of unguarded concern before his features hardened again. The Dragon Balls awaited, and with them, the power to become everything necessary to defeat Frieza - even if it meant becoming what his daughter feared most.
Without looking back, Vegeta blasted off toward where he'd sensed power levels earlier. Let her find her own path with the Earth fighters if she survived. He had a wish to claim, and a tyrant to surpass.
Pain throbbed at the base of Cellera's neck as consciousness returned. She pushed herself up slowly, memories flooding back - Dodoria's confession, her father's expression, that final moment before darkness. Typical of him, really - always choosing what he thought would protect her, whether she agreed or not.
The three suns had shifted position significantly, telling her she'd been unconscious for at least two hours. Her neck still ached from her father's precise strike - he'd known exactly how long he'd wanted her out of commission.
Focusing through her headache, she searched for familiar ki signatures. Gohan and Krillin's energy flickered faintly in the distance, masked but detectable now that she knew what to look for.
She found the cave easily enough, but something was different. A dome-shaped building sat inside, completely out of place on this alien world. After a moment's hesitation, she approached and knocked on the door.
"Cellera!" Gohan's face lit up as he opened it. "You came back! Just like you promised!"
His genuine joy at seeing her caught her off guard - so different from her father's carefully measured approval or Frieza's calculated praise. She managed a small smile despite her aching head. "I did say I would."
"Are you okay?" His expression shifted to concern, obviously noting how she looked fatigued. "Did something happen?"
Something in his innocent worry made her throat tight. Here was exactly what her mother had believed in - strength born from caring rather than conquest. Maybe she'd made the right choice after all.
"It's a long story," she said quietly. "One I think you all need to hear. Though first..." Cellera studied the impossible structure before her, trying to process this new technology. On countless purge missions, she'd never encountered anything like it. "How did you get an entire house inside a cave?"
"Oh, that's easy!" Bulma chimed in from her spot on the couch, coming to walk over to the door. "It's capsule technology - we can compress almost anything into a tiny capsule for transport. Pretty neat, huh?"
Cellera's eyebrows rose slightly, impressed despite herself. These Earthlings continued to surprise her with their innovations.
"What happened after you left?" Gohan asked as they made their way inside. "Did you find Dodoria?"
Her expression darkened as she sank into a chair. "I found him. And my father. And the truth about everything - our planet, my mother, why Frieza really keeps us under his control..."
Cellera met his gaze steadily, weighing her words. She told him about Frieza's destruction of their planet, the systematic elimination of Saiyans through false missions, her father's descent into cruelty after her mother's death.
"So he really did destroy your planet," Gohan said quietly.
"And he'll keep destroying others unless someone stops him." Cellera's hand moved to her mother's pendant. "What you showed me on Earth - fighting to protect rather than destroy - it's exactly what Frieza fears most. It's what my mother believed in, and why he had her killed."
"But what about Vegeta?" Krillin asked cautiously. "That was his energy we felt earlier..."
"My father chose a different path," she replied, unconsciously rubbing the spot where he'd struck her. "He believes the only way to defeat Frieza is to become more powerful than him, no matter the cost."
"Then you're really going to help us?" Bulma asked, studying the young Saiyan with new understanding.
"Yes." Cellera met each of their gazes in turn. "Frieza can't be allowed to get his wish for immortality. Not with the power he already possesses."
"We'll help you too," Gohan said, recognizing the same pain he'd felt losing Piccolo. "That's what friends do."
Cellera paused at the word 'friends', but found herself nodding. Looking at these Earth fighters - who'd crossed space itself to save their companions - she felt something she hadn't experienced since losing her mother. Hope.
"So," she said, pressing her thumb to her lip in familiar analysis, "what's our next move?"
"First, we eat!" Bulma announced, pulling containers from the fridge. "You won't defeat anyone on an empty stomach!"
Cellera's stomach rumbled at the sight of food. As she devoured her meal alongside Gohan and Krillin, her mind turned back to earlier events.
"You mentioned seeing my father?" she asked between bites of noodles.
"Oh yeah! It was close," Krillin said. "If not for that fish..."
Cellera paused mid-bite. "Fish?"
They explained how Vegeta had nearly found them when the young Namekian couldn't suppress his power level, but a fortunate fish's splash had diverted her father's attention.
"Fortune does seem to favor you Earthlings," she said with a slight laugh, though part of her wondered if her father had truly been fooled so easily.
"Oh!" Bulma perked up. "You weren't here earlier - Goku should arrive in six days! My father replicated and modified his old space pod for training."
"Kakarot's coming?" Cellera set down her chopsticks, remembering his condition after Earth. "He's healed already?"
"Yeah!" Gohan's eyes lit up. "Once he gets here, he'll beat Frieza and Vegeta, and we can wish our friends back!"
Cellera studied his hopeful expression, doubting Kakarot could match Frieza's power. But looking at Gohan's earnest face, she couldn't bring herself to dim that hope. "Kakarot would definitely help our odds," she said diplomatically.
All of a sudden, the Namekian boy gave a sigh. When Cellera glanced at his meal, she noticed he hadn't eaten even a bite.
"I know it's not very good, but you should probably try to eat something to get your strength back." Krillin said to the boy.
"Not very good!" Bulma cried from her place at the fridge, throwing the dessert she pulled out at Krillin. "Well that sure hasn't stopped you from stuffing your fat face! Would it kill you to show a little appreciation for once?! Huh?!" She questioned as she grew closer to him.
"I-I wasn't talking about the food!" Krillin began to plead. "I swear, it's the best I ever had!"
In Cellera's opinion, she thought the food tasted great, but then again, Saiyans aren't too picky. She glanced over at Gohan's plate of food which was just as finished as hers.
Cellera and Gohan watched the spectacle of Bulma continuing to yell at Krillin before meeting each other's gaze and laughing.
"Shut up you two!" Krillin said, evidently embarrassed.
Gohan caught sight of the Namekian boy still looking down at the table, not joining in with the jovial laughter. Bulma mentioned how maybe the boy is too upset to eat after everything today and Krillin attempted to coax him into eating, however the Namekian just shook his head.
"I'm sorry, but we don't eat. We Namekians only drink water." he informed.
Upon hearing this Krillin questioned him about the fields of vegetables out by the village. The boy explained that they were Ajissa plants and how there used to be forests of them back when Namek was still lush and beautiful before the massive storm came and nearly wiped them to extinction. He went on to talk about how the plants brought beauty to the planet and made their soil rich, so they are planting more in attempts to bring their planet back to life.
Everyone sat in silence for a moment and Cellera couldn't help but feel connected to the boy's story. While she may never be able to restore her planet or race, she's glad that the Namekians at least have a chance. Or at least, they would if Frieza wasn't around.
"Y'know, I just realized you haven't told us your name yet!" Gohan's voice cut through the silence.
"I'm sorry. It's Dende." The boy apologized. "And who are you? What brings you to Planet Namek?"
Suddenly, Krillin and Gohan tensed, setting down their food. Before Cellera could ask what was wrong, they rushed outside the cave. She followed, finding them staring intently into the distance.
Closing her eyes, she concentrated, trying to sense what had alarmed them. Her growing ki sense struggled to focus on the distant energies.
"Hey! What is it?" Bulma called, emerging from the cave. "Did they find us?"
"No... it's multiple power levels, all fading," Krillin said, fists clenched.
"The Namekians are dying!" Gohan's voice shook with anger.
Finally, Cellera caught it - numerous weak signatures disappearing one by one. But among them, she felt a devastatingly familiar energy. Her heart stopped.
"It's Vegeta! He's attacking a village!" Krillin spat. "Those Namekians never had a chance!"
"Father..." The word escaped her barely above a whisper.
"He's just an animal!" Bulma declared.
"He's learned to sense power levels without scouters," Cellera explained, her voice tight. "I should have mentioned it earlier."
"If either of them gets the Dragon Balls, it's over," Krillin's shoulders slumped. "No one could stop them."
Bulma suggested hiding one Dragon Ball, but Gohan shook his head. "They'd kill every Namekian until they found it."
"He's right," Cellera confirmed, watching Dende's horrified expression. Guilt twisted in her chest - while she hadn't killed anyone but Dodoria, her father's actions still felt partly her responsibility.
Krillin dropped to his knees, punching the ground. "What can we do? Even Goku might not be enough against both of them." He looked down, voice bitter. "I should've killed him when I had the chance."
"Krillin!" Gohan's sharp tone carried a warning glance toward Cellera.
Krillin's words hung in the air as he realized what he'd said. His head snapped up, face paling as he met Cellera's gaze. "I... I didn't mean..."
"You're not wrong," Cellera said quietly, surprising them all. "Back on Earth, you showed mercy. I begged for his life, promised we'd leave peacefully." Her thumb pressed against her lip, but this time it wasn't in analysis - it was to stop it from trembling. "Now more families are being torn apart. More children are losing their parents, just like..." She trailed off, her free hand unconsciously moving to her mother's pendant.
"Cellera..." Gohan stepped toward her, but she shook her head.
"My father believes becoming stronger than Frieza is worth any cost. Even becoming what destroyed our own people." She looked at Dende, seeing her younger self in his devastated expression. "I chose a different path, but that doesn't erase my part in bringing this here. Your mercy on Earth gave me a chance to change. Those Namekians dying now..." she trailed off.
"You can't blame yourself for his choices," Krillin said, his earlier bitterness replaced by understanding. "Besides, you're here now, helping us try to stop it."
"Maybe," she said, but her eyes remained fixed on the horizon where her father's ki signature continued its deadly work. "But understanding why someone becomes a monster doesn't make the victims any less dead."
"I…I still don't understand…Who are you?" Dende asked, drawing everyone's attention. "You know about the Dragon Balls, about these evil men..." he glanced cautiously at Cellera. "Please... are you here to help us?"
Krillin explained their journey to Namek, their hope to revive their fallen friends. Cellera noticed he said "Vegeta and his partner" rather than "partners." The distinction warmed her, though guilt still gnawed at her for not stopping what had happened on Earth.
"But he let it happen!" Krillin's words from Earth echoed in her memory. "If anything, he gave the go ahead!"
"And what about you?" Dende turned to her, his wariness clear. "You call one of our attackers father, yet you stand with them."
"I won't stop these Earth fighters from reviving their friends," Cellera said firmly. "And I won't let Frieza or my father destroy another world." Her hand moved unconsciously to her mother's pendant. "Some of us have learned there are things worth protecting."
Determination suddenly lit Dende's features. "Then we must fight together! And I know who can help - the Grand Elder!"
Gohan watched her as she spoke, seeing beyond the warrior facade to the girl his own age who'd never known peace. Who now stood against her only remaining parent to protect others from suffering the same fate.
Understanding passed between Cellera and Dende - two children watching their worlds torn apart by forces beyond their control. "Your world has been terrorized by these men too," he said softly. Determination suddenly lit his features. "Then we must fight together! And I know who can help - the Grand Elder!"
Dende explained how the Grand Elder had survived their planet's catastrophic storm, single-handedly repopulating their world. When Bulma questioned how, his response caught Cellera off guard.
"He spit the eggs out of his mouth, of course."
Cellera watched the ensuing confusion over Namekian biology with mild amusement, but her discerning mind was already racing ahead. While Bulma puzzled over single-gender species being "boring," Krillin focused on what mattered.
"So this Grand Elder can really help us?"
"Yes, but we must hurry," Dende urged, looking toward where Vegeta had attacked. "They already have five Dragon Balls. If another village is falling now..."
"Sorry kid," Krillin's voice held defeat. "I think it's too late."
"The energies are gone," Gohan confirmed gently. "Vegeta didn't leave survivors."
Cellera watched Dende's shoulders shake, his voice cracking. "Then... there are only a few of us left now." Her heart clenched, remembering similar words about her own people.
Then it clicked. Her hand moved to her face in that characteristic gesture of concentration as pieces fell into place. "My father has the sixth Dragon Ball, and if there aren't many Namekians left..." She met Dende's eyes. "The Grand Elder has the last one."
"That's right."
"This is bad." Cellera's tone couldn't quite mask her concern. "Frieza may struggle without scouters, but my father's energy sensing is far more advanced than mine. He'll find your Grand Elder."
"That's why we must warn him!" Dende pleaded. "Please, you have to help!"
"It's risky," Gohan said, "but we're in more danger if either of them gets that Dragon Ball."
Krillin placed his hands on Dende's shoulders, resolve hardening his features. "Lead the way. I'll follow."
Dende's answering smile carried pure gratitude.
"This shouldn't take long," Krillin turned to Cellera and Gohan. "But you two stay with Bulma."
Cellera started to protest until Krillin continued: "We can't risk Vegeta sensing all of us. Cellera, he knows your energy better than anyone's."
The logic made her argument die in her throat. "He's right," Gohan agreed. "We'll be safer split up."
"Be careful," Krillin warned as he and Dende rose into the air.
"You too!" Gohan waved while Cellera raised a single hand, watching them disappear across Namek's green sky. She couldn't shake the feeling that their group's separation marked the beginning of something far more dangerous than they'd faced yet.
It wasn't too much later that the two Saiyan children had begun to spar outside of the cave, hoping that it would ease any lingering anxiety about Krillin's and Dende's departure to see the Grand Elder.
"Keep your guard up," Cellera called out, circling Gohan. "Your left side is still open."
Gohan adjusted his stance, studying her movements. "Like this?"
She nodded, throwing a light punch to test his defense. "Better."
They fell into an easy rhythm of strikes and blocks, neither fighting to win, just practicing. After a few exchanges, Gohan found himself studying her style - so different from what he'd seen on Earth.
"You know," he said, blocking another combination, "you really don't fight like Vegeta at all. Every move is so... precise and careful. Like you're solving a puzzle instead of just attacking."
Cellera paused mid-strike, those words hitting her with unexpected force. Her father had once said those exact words about her mother, during one of those rare moments he spoke of the past. For Gohan to echo them so unknowingly... "You noticed that?"
"It's hard not to," Gohan said, maintaining his guard this time. "Vegeta and Nappa just powered through everything, but you... you look for your opponent's openings and weak points."
Her lips curved slightly, remembering similar praise from her father during early training sessions. Before Gohan could react to this rare show of emotion, she swept his legs out from under him. "And you still need to work on staying focused during conversation."
Gohan laughed from his new position on the ground. "I deserved that one."
"Yes, you did." But there was no mockery in her tone as she offered him a hand up - another difference from her father's style that didn't escape Gohan's notice.
As they resumed their stances, Gohan caught a glimpse of that thoughtful look she often wore, like she was processing more than just combat moves. Despite the looming threat of Frieza - in this moment they were just two kids training together, finding any slice of normalcy in their abnormal situation.
"Bulma's going to yell at us for not resting," Gohan said between blocks.
"Let her," Cellera smirked. "I'd rather spar than sit around waiting. Besides," she landed a light tap on his shoulder, "you still need to work on that left side."
Bulma did eventually come outside to yell at them.
"Will you two get in here and REST?" her voice cut through their sparring session. "I swear, you're as bad as Goku - always training instead of taking care of yourselves!"
Cellera was about to ignore her, but something in Bulma's stance made her pause. The Earth woman stood with her hands on her hips, radiating the same commanding presence Cellera had seen in Frieza's highest-ranked officers - except there was genuine concern beneath Bulma's anger.
"Five more minutes?" Gohan tried, using the same tone he probably used with his own mother.
"Now!" Bulma's foot actually stamped the ground. "Don't make me come out there!"
"We should go in," Cellera said, surprising herself and Gohan. At his questioning look, she added quietly, "She reminds me of Mother when she's angry. Best not to argue."
As they headed inside, Cellera found her attention drawn to Bulma. The Earth woman was an enigma - showing no fear of Saiyans while casually ordering them around, creating technology beyond anything Cellera had seen on purge missions, yet fussing over them like children. It was a contradiction that somehow worked.
"About time!" Bulma huffed, but her hands were gentle as she checked them for injuries. "Honestly, you kids are impossible. Sit down, I'll get you some water."
Cellera wouldn't admit it out loud, but something about Bulma's fussing felt... nice. The last person who'd shown such casual concern for her wellbeing had been her mother. She'd forgotten what it felt like to have someone care about things like rest and hydration instead of just power levels and battle.
"I heard that eye roll, young lady," Bulma called from the kitchen, making Cellera start. She hadn't even realized she'd done it. "Just because you're part of a warrior race, doesn't mean you get to skip basic self-care."
Gohan caught her eye and grinned, clearly used to this treatment. Cellera found herself fighting back a smile. Maybe there was something to be said for Earth women and their fierce protectiveness.
"Here," Bulma set water in front of them before disappearing back into the kitchen, muttering about 'stubborn Saiyans' and 'going gray early.'
"Thanks," Cellera said softly, surprising herself again. These Earth customs were becoming strangely natural.
"So..." Gohan took a long drink before asking, "Do you know how your parents met? I mean, from what I remember of you telling me about her, your mom sounds like the complete opposite from Vegeta."
Cellera traced the rim of her glass, remembering one of the rare times her mother had shared the story - one of those rare moments they had together at all. "She was the strongest female Saiyan warrior during Frieza's rule - one of the very few left after…." she trailed off, the implication left unsaid.
"She met Father during one of Frieza's missions," Cellera continued, not lingering on the revelation of what Dodoria had revealed earlier. "Said she fought like she was solving a puzzle instead of just destroying everything."
Cellera paused, the words echoing their earlier sparring session. She looked over at Gohan, unable to suppress a small smile as their eyes met - he had unknowingly echoed her father's exact words.
"Father was impressed by that," she continued, keeping her voice even. "During one of those rare times he spoke of her, he told me that's what caught his attention - she made him truly think instead of just reacting." Her hand moved to her familiar thinking pose. "Though lately, it seems he's forgotten the value of thinking before acting entirely."
"Did they fall in love?" Gohan asked with childlike curiosity.
Cellera wrinkled her nose at the sentiment, still very much a Saiyan child despite everything. "Saiyans don't really... I mean, we're warriors, not..." She fumbled for words before settling on, "They respected each other. Under Frieza's rule, that was rare enough."
From the kitchen, Bulma couldn't help but smile at Cellera's awkward explanation of Saiyan relationships. For all their power and pride, they were still just kids trying to understand grown-up things.
"You know," Bulma joined them at the table, "Gohan's parents met at a martial arts tournament. His mom actually fought his dad before they got married!"
"Really?" Cellera's eyes widened with interest. Fighting was something she understood, though the concept of marriage puzzled her. Among Saiyans, partnerships were determined by strength and potential for powerful offspring - romance was a foreign notion.
"Yeah! Right after Dad beat Piccolo too." Gohan added proudly.
"The Namekian who trained you?" Cellera's brow furrowed in confusion. "But I thought..."
"He wasn't always on our side," Gohan explained. "His whole purpose was to kill my dad - he was literally born for it. Everyone was terrified of him."
"Born to kill Kakarot?" The idea made her head spin.. Among Saiyans, trusting a former enemy with combat training was unthinkable. Even after years of service together, she'd never fully trusted Nappa. "And your father trusted him enough to let him train you?!"
"Well, dad didn't really say yes or no..." Gohan scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Bulma's grimace caught Cellera's attention - clearly there was more to this story than simple trust. She recognized that expression; it was the same one her mother used to make when discussing her father's more... questionable training methods.
"But I'm grateful he did because now I'm here being able to help save my friends!" Gohan continued. "Besides, he wasn't that bad. In fact, I kind of think of him like my big green uncle, although he didn't like it when I told him that." His laugh faded as his eyes grew distant. "Still, he died protecting me. His enemy's son."
Cellera studied Gohan's expression, trying to process this strange notion of chosen family. The idea of an enemy becoming a protector, of sacrifice driven by something other than duty or strength... It challenged everything she'd been raised to believe.
"I don't understand," Cellera admitted, adopting her familiar thinking pose. "He was raised for one purpose, then chose to die for the opposite?" Her mind drifted to her own training - endless drills on proper Saiyan conduct, on maintaining pride and power above all else. "You also referred to him as an 'uncle' even though he doesn't share blood with you or Kakarot unlike Raditz..."
The notion felt foreign to her very core. In their diminished race, blood ties were sacred - one of the few things even Frieza couldn't take from them. Yet here was Gohan, casually claiming deeper kinship with an enemy than his own uncle.
"That's what makes Earth so special," Bulma said softly. "People can change. They can choose who they want to be, no matter what they were born or raised for."
Her father would call it weakness - just as he had called her mother's mercy weak, just as he'd dismissed Kakarot's soft heart. Yet here was Gohan, proving that compassion could breed its own kind of strength. Like her mother before her, like Kakarot and his son - they had found power in protecting rather than destroying. Perhaps there was something to this gentler path after all.
"That's kind of our thing," Bulma added with a gentle smile. "Turning enemies into family. First Yamcha, then Piccolo….Yamcha lived in the desert robbing people before he met us," she continued with a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "Now he's one of our closest friends and my boyfriend!"
Cellera's eyes widened slightly. These Earth customs grew stranger by the minute - not only befriending former enemies but forming romantic attachments to them? Everything her father taught screamed against such attachments. Yet watching how these connections had transformed Gohan from a crying child into a warrior who could match her in combat... perhaps there was strength in letting others close after all.
Despite her part in Yamcha's death, Bulma still showed her mercy. That trust weighed heavier than any battle armor. "But how can you trust so easily? After everything we did..."
"Who said anything about easy?" Bulma winked. "But sometimes you just see something in people - something they might not even see in themselves yet. Just like Piccolo probably never saw himself as a mentor until he met Gohan."
The words struck something in Cellera - they had seen potential in her that she hadn't recognized herself. Beyond the warrior her father demanded she become, beyond Frieza's tool of destruction. Even after everything she'd done on Earth, they'd offered her a chance to be something more. Just as Gohan had helped transform his would-be killer into a protective mentor, these Earth fighters had shown her another path.
She watched him casually claim the Namekian as his uncle, saw Bulma's fierce protection of them all, witnessed Krillin's unwavering loyalty. By Saiyan logic, it made no sense. Yet these bonds had produced warriors strong enough to challenge her father.
"Your way of living doesn't make you weak like Father claims," she said quietly. "It gives you something to be strong for... Thank you for helping me understand."
"That's what friends are for," Gohan grinned. The casual claim of friendship again caught her off guard, but before she could process it, Bulma clapped her hands.
. "Alright you two, get cleaned up. And Gohan, your mother will have our heads if you don't do some homework."
"Homework?" Cellera tilted her head, the unfamiliar word catching her attention.
"Yeah, Mom packed all my studying materials," Gohan sighed, leading her to another room where stacks of books towered precariously. "She says even saving the world isn't an excuse to fall behind."
Cellera stared at the mountain of books with a mix of confusion and fascination. "And you have to... learn all of this?"
Cellera's thumb pressed against her lip as she examined the complex equations. While she'd been trained to analyze battlefield tactics and enemy weaknesses, here was an entirely different kind of knowledge. One that somehow produced warriors as strong as Gohan without focusing on combat at all. She found herself studying each problem he solved, trying to understand how this "homework" fit into Earth's strange methods of creating strength.
As she watched him work, her analytical nature found familiar patterns. These problems had their own kind of strategy, like planning attack sequences or calculating power levels.
"This is incorrect," she said, her attention catching the error like she would a weakness in an opponent's stance. "The answer should be 8."
"Oh, wow! You're right!" Gohan exclaimed, quickly erasing and reworking the equation. "Thanks a lot, Cellera! Hey, do you mind checking through some more of these for me?"
Cellera blinked, taken aback. She hadn't meant to involve herself. While evaluating weak points in combat came naturally, being valued for her mind alone felt foreign. She glanced at Bulma, now napping on the couch. Surely he'd prefer the Earth woman's help over hers.
As if reading her thoughts, Gohan clapped his hands together. "Please?"
Cellera remained quiet, trying to will herself to say no, but something in his expression made refusal impossible.
"Fine," she breathed out, already treating this like a training exchange. "However, in exchange, you will help me master energy sensing. The headaches are becoming troublesome and if father can do it without them, then so can I."
"Deal!" Gohan thrust out his hand. Cellera studied the gesture before accepting the handshake, still unused to these casual Earth customs. Her confidence wavered as he placed a stack of papers about two centimeters thick in her hands. Perhaps she should have negotiated better terms.
"See how these variables connect?" Cellera pointed at the equation. "Like tracking multiple opponents - each part affects the others."
"Oh!" Gohan's eyes lit up. "So if I change this number, it shifts everything else, kind of like how power levels affect each other during battle!"
They continued working through problems, each finding ways to translate concepts between their different backgrounds. After an hour, the homework pile had noticeably decreased.
"Thanks Cellera!" Gohan stretched, setting aside the last completed page. "Ready to work on energy sensing now?"
Her immediate grimace made him laugh. "The headaches again?"
"I don't understand why it's so difficult," she admitted, frustration building like a failed battle strategy. Every attempt to track energy felt like trying to calculate trajectories with missing variables. "Father mastered it almost immediately during his battle on Earth." The comparison stung - she'd always prided herself on learning techniques faster than even Nappa, approaching each skill like a puzzle to be solved. But this... this defied her usual methodical approach.
"Maybe that's because he wasn't overthinking it," Gohan suggested. "Like how you just helped me with math - you didn't analyze every tiny detail, you just showed me how to see the connections."
"That's different," she protested. "Mathematics has clear rules, precise formulas..."
"Okay, close your eyes," Gohan instructed, shifting to teacher mode just as she had done with him. "Let's try something different."
Cellera settled into her usual meditation pose - spine straight, hands positioned perfectly, everything controlled and precise. Just as she'd been taught.
"No, no," Gohan shook his head. "You're too stiff. Relax a little."
"I am relaxed," she replied, not adjusting her posture one bit.
"You're trying too hard to control it," Gohan said as Cellera struggled with another headache.
The words triggered a memory - her mother's gentle voice during early training sessions: "Not everything can be mastered through force, little one. Sometimes you have to let go of control to find true strength."
Back then, she'd been too young to understand. Now, being taught by this gentle Earth child, her mother's wisdom finally made sense.
"Just feel the energy around you. Like..." He thought for a moment. "Like when you're sparring, and you can tell where your opponent will move next."
"That's called reading movement patterns and calculating probable-"
"No calculations!" Gohan interrupted. "Remember how you helped me understand the math problems? You didn't start with complex formulas. You connected it to something I already knew - fighting."
Cellera opened both eyes now, her thumb unconsciously moving to her lip as she processed his words. "So... you're suggesting I need to find a different way to approach this?"
"Exactly! Instead of trying to measure every energy signal like it's a power level on your scouter, just... feel it. Like a rhythm during a fight, it should feel natural."
Giving it another attempt, she closed her eyes, trying to let go of her rigid posture. It felt wrong, almost sloppy.
She tried again, forcing her posture to loosen. Everything in her training screamed against such sloppiness. But she remembered her mother's way - feeling the flow of combat rather than just its mechanics.
"Better!" Gohan encouraged. "Now, without trying to calculate anything, can you tell where Bulma is?"
"In the kitchen," Cellera answered immediately, then blinked in surprise. She hadn't analyzed the energy pattern or calculated distance - she'd just known.
"See? You did that without thinking! Try finding something else..."
"There's a bird... no, three birds," Cellera said slowly, "nesting above the cave entrance." She frowned. "But that's just observing small power levels, not-"
"You found them without a headache," Gohan pointed out. "Keep going. What else can you feel?"
She maintained that loose awareness, fighting her instinct to analyze. "Fish in the lake... some large animal in the distance..." Her brow furrowed. "The bigger powers are... overwhelming."
"That's normal," Gohan assured her. "Piccolo said it's like learning to swim - you start in the shallow end before diving into deeper water."
"The Namekian taught you this too?"
"Yeah! Though..." Gohan scratched his head sheepishly, "his teaching methods were a bit more... intense."
"Like what?"
"Oh, you know, throwing me at mountains, leaving me alone in the wilderness for six months..." He caught her shocked expression and laughed. "But hey, it worked! And I'm not going to throw you at any mountains, promise."
Cellera shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Your training methods are as bizarre as everything else on Earth."
From the kitchen doorway, Bulma watched their interaction with growing amusement. The young Saiyan warrior who'd arrived on Earth ready for conquest was now sitting cross-legged on her floor, being taught by the very child she'd once fought. And somehow, it seemed perfectly natural.
"You're drifting again," Gohan's voice brought Cellera's focus back. "Try to sense something further away. But remember - feel, don't calculate."
She took a breath, consciously relaxing her shoulders like he'd shown her. "There's... something big. Moving fast across the planet." Her eyes snapped open. "Father!"
"Don't tense up!" Gohan reminded her quickly. "You'll lose the connection. Just... let it be there. Like background noise during training."
Cellera closed her eyes again, fighting her instinct to analyze her father's power level and trajectory. Just observe, don't calculate. Just feel…
"Wait..." Cellera's concentration shifted, her relaxed posture tensing slightly. "That's not just Father. There's another power level with him..."
"Can you tell who it is?" Gohan asked, noticing her growing unease.
Her eyes snapped open, face paling. "Zarbon." The name came out barely above a whisper, memories of her month under his command still fresh.
"Who's Zar-" Gohan started to ask, but stopped as Cellera's eyes squeezed shut in pain, her hands pressing against her temples.
"They're fighting," she managed through gritted teeth. "But it's... everything's getting muddled. Too much power, too fast..."
"You're trying to analyze again," Gohan warned, but Cellera shook her head.
"Zarbon's energy... it's changing. Growing. He's-" She cut off with a sharp intake of breath, the headache overwhelming her attempt to track the battle.
"But Father-"
"Is too stubborn to die. I saw that firsthand with Goku." When Cellera looked puzzled, Bulma shrugged. "Let's just say I had front row seats. Now lie down before you make yourself sick."
Cellera wanted to resist. Warriors didn't need coddling. But something in Bulma's tone - that same authority her mother used to have - made her comply. The thought of accepting comfort made her shoulders stiffen, yet Bulma's gentle hands reminded her of buried memories: her mother easing training headaches, those rare moments between missions when both her parents were home. Before she could stop herself, she was letting Bulma guide her head into her lap.
"Rest," Bulma instructed softly. "The universe won't fall apart if you take a break for five minutes."
From his spot nearby, Gohan watched the scene with a small smile. Somehow, Bulma had a way of adopting every stray fighter that crossed her path - even former enemies.
"By the way Gohan, you're awfully calm despite everything going on." Bulma said, not stopping her gentle strokes through Cellera's hair.
"I've thought the same," Cellera agreed tiredly from her spot on Bulma's lap.
"It's easy! I know everything's gonna be okay once my dad gets here." Gohan replied, his sure smile reflecting none of the doubt she'd expect given their situation.
"Well, I hope he gets here soon." Bulma replied, leaning back slightly.
"As do I." Cellera found herself agreeing, surprised to realize she meant it. Perhaps their optimism was contagious. Their unwavering faith in Kakarot still puzzled her, though something about their certainty was oddly comforting.
"I just hope Krillin and Dende are still doing okay." Gohan wondered aloud as he began to meditate.
When Cellera woke, she found herself still in Bulma's lap, the Earth woman now running a brush through her hair with the same gentle authority she seemed to apply to everything. The sensation was so familiar yet foreign - no one had done this since her mother.
"Your split ends are terrible," Bulma muttered and Cellera furrowed her brow in confusion at the unfamiliar term.
Later, outside the cave, she and Gohan worked on combat maneuvers. Teaching him a new ki blast felt natural now after spending all that time helping him with his homework. Watching him master the technique so quickly, she couldn't help but give him a proud smile. They had moved on to combo attacks when Bulma's voice called them over.
"It's moving! It looks like it's heading right for us." She stated, holding the radar for them to see. Just like she said, there was a yellow ball on the screen with the number 1 by it heading in their direction. "Maybe it's Krillin on his way back."
"All right! Way to go, Krillin! I just knew he'd come through!" Gohan raised his hand in what Cellera recognized as another Earth gesture. She hesitated, studying his open palm like it was a combat technique to be analyzed, before awkwardly meeting it with her own. The casual contact felt foreign, yet somehow appropriate for what they'd become to each other.
"There's something that's been bugging me though." She begins to zoom out on the radar showing a cluster of Dragon Balls, the one Frieza has, one moving which is Krillin, and one lone ball by itself.
"How strange." Cellera muttered. "There's one by itself?"
"It looks like it's over in that direction." Gohan said as he turned and the pieces clicked together.
"That's where my father was attacking the village! He must've hid the Dragon Ball somewhere over there to come back for later!"
"He's not there anymore. I don't sense him….Now might be our only chance to get it." Gohan said.
"I agree. I haven't been able to sense his ki since his fight with Zarbon earlier." She said quietly, looking down. The earlier strain of trying to track their battle still lingered behind her eyes. She took a steadying breath before looking back at Gohan. "You should take the radar and find that Dragon Ball while we have the opportunity. I'll stay with Bulma - my father may not be there now, but if he returns..." She left the implications unspoken. Better to have someone who could mask their ki properly remain as protection.
"Got it! You can count on me!" Gohan nodded dutifully as Bulma handed him the device. "I'll be back as soon as I can!"
Cellera was glad she had stayed behind. As she and Bulma sat outside the cave, the Earth woman had been explaining how she'd witnessed the battle on Earth - something about a crystal ball and someone called Baba - when Cellera caught a gleam in her peripheral vision.
Trying to relax her mind despite the lingering headache, she caught fragments of a familiar ki signature approaching. The energy was clear enough to recognize Krillin, but tracking it still made her temples throb. Before she could warn Bulma...
"Are you alright?" Cellera asked as she went to help the woman up.
"Yes, thank you." She said sweetly to Cellera before her face changed to one of anger and turned towards Krillin. "How many times have I told you?! Don't do that!"
Before Krillin could defend himself and Bulma could get angrier, Cellera decided to step in. "It seems you've gotten the Dragon Ball."
"I sure did!" Krillin replied with a wide proud smile.
"Wow…" Bulma said, her anger forgotten as she took a closer look at the orbs. "The Dragon Balls on this planet sure are big!"
"I assume the ones on yours are not of this size?" Cellera asked and Bulma shook her head.
"Hey, so where's Gohan?" Krillin asked as he looked around for the boy. "Is he in the cave? Get him, I want to take you guys to meet the Grand Elder, Guru!"
"He went off to find a lone Dragon Ball near the village my father destroyed," Cellera replied. "But, why do you want-" Cellera cut herself off when she felt two familiar ki's headed their way and by the looks of Krillin's face, he sensed them too. While she was filled with relief to know her father was alive and by the looks of him, it seemed he was fully healed. Chalk up another boost in power for him.
"Oh, no." Krillin muttered, and shortly after, Vegeta landed next to them.
"It's Vegeta!" Bulma and Krillin exclaimed in panic.
"Well, the surprises just don't stop, do they?" Vegeta's voice carried that dangerous edge she remembered from their last encounter. "I seem to have found my traitorous daughter and her new Earthling friends." His eyes fixed on the Dragon Ball in Krillin's hand. "Along with exactly what I'm looking for."
"It seems you survived your run in with Zarbon, Father." Cellera stepped in front of Krillin, unconsciously adopting the protective stance she'd seen Piccolo use with Gohan. "I'll admit, I thought he had you beat when I sensed your energy fade."
Her father's mocking smirk widened at her mention of ki sensing. "Look at you, thinking you can distract your dear old dad. Learned a few tricks from these Earth weaklings, have you?"
Something in his tone reminded her of their last conversation - of disappointed lectures about Saiyan pride and proper she wasn't that same obedient soldier anymore. These Earthlings had shown her another kind of strength - the same strength her mother had died protecting. The power that came not from brutality or pride, but from protecting what mattered. Perhaps that's what Frieza had feared most in her mother, and what these Earth fighters now embodied.
"Tell me, daughter," Vegeta's voice dripped with sarcasm, "have these Earthlings convinced you their way is better? That mercy and sentimental feelings makes you stronger?" His eyes flickered to the pendant beneath her armor. "Their idealism will get them killed - just like your mother's did."
The mention of her mother made Cellera's fists clench, but she kept her voice steady. "They know enough, Father. About Frieza, about Mother, about everything. They understand more than you think."
"Understand?" He barked a laugh. "They understand nothing of our world, of what it takes to survive under Frieza's rule. They may speak of mercy and protection, but they've never known true tyranny."
Still, she had to play this carefully. While she hoped Gohan would return with the other Dragon Ball soon, they needed to avoid her father's suspicion. She caught flickers of another power level - the energy signature felt familiar but trying to focus on it made her head pound. Still, she managed to warn them: "We have company," she said, looking toward the sky behind Vegeta, just as Zarbon appeared.
Zarbon's arrival brought unwanted memories flooding back - a month of watching his methodical cruelty, of learning to mask not just her energy but her reactions to his "training methods." She noticed Bulma's admiring gaze and felt an uncomfortable twist in her stomach. She'd seen too many fall for Zarbon's beautiful facade, only to discover the monster beneath too late.
Krillin muttered something about being in trouble to which Bulma agreed, but not in the same way. When Cellera looked at the woman, she seemed to almost have hearts in her eyes.
Krillin and Cellera looked at each other before looking back at Bulma.
"Bulma, I really don't think he's here for a date!" Krillin said.
"He's right. Besides, he's not as handsome as you think he may be." Cellera warned and couldn't help the satisfaction she felt when she noticed Zarbon's energy flare slightly.
"You're just a kid, you don't understand!" Bulma retorted before getting a dreamy look again. "Do you really think he'd go on a date with me?"
Cellera decided to ignore Bulma's infatuation; she'd find out here soon enough what Zarbon was really like. It wasn't even five minutes from then when Zarbon transformed into his monster body and Bulma was thoroughly disgusted.
"So much for that date..." Bulma sighed. Cellera glanced at her, puzzled - hadn't she just been talking about her boyfriend Yamcha?
Cellera watched the battle unfold, analyzing each move as her father had taught her. Then something made her breath catch - her father, who had drilled Saiyan pride and honor into her since birth, threw dirt in Zarbon's eyes. The tactic was beneath a warrior's dignity by every standard he'd instilled in her, yet she couldn't deny its effectiveness. Yet it worked, allowing him to get behind Zarbon and punch through his armor before firing a ki blast that sent him into the lake.
Zarbon emerged, water cascading off his monstrous form. "You'll never kill me in this form, Vegeta!"
"You're wrong!" Her father's voice carried that dangerous edge she knew too well. "I can kill you in any form, Zarbon!"
Bulma stepped back and yelped in fear, almost falling over before Cellera steadied her. "Perhaps next time, you'll take my advice." She couldn't help but tease the woman. Bulma nodded quickly in agreement.
"Vegeta! I was just... following orders." Zarbon's plea echoed Dodoria's final moments. "Please don't kill me! Spare me! We can be a team!"
Cellera watched without pity as her father's response came in the form of a ki blast that sent Zarbon back into the lake. This time, she knew he wouldn't resurface. She'd spent enough missions with him to know the size of that hole through his chest was fatal. Unlike the innocent families he'd terrorized, Zarbon had earned his fate.
"Once I have all the Dragon Balls, I will be the one to defeat Frieza..." Vegeta's eyes fixed on his daughter. "Alone."
Their eyes met in a silent standoff. Never had she challenged him like this - their disagreement over Dodoria had been different, personal. But these Earthlings had shown her another way, and had made her question everything she'd been taught by her father. Even Bulma's defiant personality had affected her more than she'd realized.
Still, she was Rhuba and Vegeta's daughter. She knew when to play her cards right. "Krillin," she said firmly, leaving no room for argument, "we are no match for him. Give him the Dragon Ball."
"W-What?! Cellera?! Who's side are you on?" Krillin asked, shocked.
Cellera turned to face him, holding eye contact before drifting her eyes in the direction of where Gohan had gone to collect the Dragon Ball. Understanding crossed his face before he scowled.
"Hand. It. Over. Now." Her father enunciated each word. "Or the woman beside you will pay for your actions."
"There's no need to bring her into this," Cellera stepped in front of Bulma, chin lifting in unconscious defiance.
Standing between her father and Bulma, Cellera found herself calculating angles of attack out of pure habit - just as he'd taught her. But she wasn't focused on victory. Instead, she was searching his face for any trace of the father who had once watched her train with Mother, who had allowed small moments of pride to show through his stern facade. The father she hoped still existed somewhere beneath Frieza's conditioning.
Something flickered in her father's eyes - a crack in his stern mask she hadn't seen since her early training days with Mother. His gaze held her for a long moment, as if seeing a ghost. Later, she would realize he was seeing her mother's defiance living on through her, the same protective stance Rhuba had taken so many times before her death.
"So," his voice carried forced mockery, "you'll throw away your Saiyan pride for these weaklings? Just like she did?"
Cellera's hand tightened around her mother's pendant. "Mother didn't throw away her pride," she said quietly, meeting his gaze with the same steel he'd once admired in Rhuba. "She showed us there was pride in protecting what matters. That our strength could be used for more than just destruction."
Her father's energy crackled dangerously at the comparison, but she pressed on. "These 'weaklings' proved that on Earth - not through mercy, but by standing together. By fighting for something beyond themselves."
"Spare me your mother's philosophy," Vegeta sneered, though something in his expression wavered. He then narrowed his eyes at the Dragon Ball in his grip, a cruel smile spreading across his face. Her words had struck something, but his ambition burned stronger than any reminder of the past.
"Now all that remains is calling forth the Dragon!" his eyes gleamed with dangerous triumph. "Then I'll make my wish for immortality and become the Supreme Ruler of the Universe! And Frieza will die!" His laughter echoed as he blasted into the sky.
Once her father's energy faded to a distant point, Cellera's legs gave out. She dropped to her knees, unexpected laughter bubbling up from her chest. It wasn't the maniacal laughter of victory her father had just displayed, but something lighter, almost giddy.
"I apologize," she managed between laughs, noting Bulma and Krillin's concerned expressions. "It's just- that's the second time I've managed to outmaneuver him! All those years of perfect obedience, and now I've tricked him twice." She shook her head in disbelief. "Thank you for understanding what I was trying to do, Krillin."
Krillin nodded, though she could see the lingering anger in his eyes as he stared after her father. "Now we just hope Gohan doesn't run into him."
Cellera followed his gaze toward where her father had disappeared - the same direction Gohan had gone. But instead of the worry she expected to feel, she found herself filled with strange certainty. "He'll be alright," she stated firmly, surprising herself with her conviction. "Gohan is resourceful and intelligent. Even if they cross paths, he'll find his way back to us with that Dragon Ball." She smiled slightly. "After all, he managed to survive encounters with both me and my father on Earth."
Bulma's hand squeezed her shoulder gently. "Look at you, having faith in people. We're definitely rubbing off on you."