The small room Vegeta shared with Nappa and Raditz at Frieza's home base was bare, with only raw essentials: three rock-hard cots for the Saiyans to sleep on, a small light, and a few spare sets of old gloves and boots tossed carelessly in the corner. There were splotches of old, faded blood stains on the floor, a morbid décor that was only enhanced by the tense and deadly silence that filled the room.
The teenaged Saiyan prince was cross-legged on the floor, one shiny golden coin in his hand. He slipped the coin in between and around his fingers absent-mindedly, his dark eyes were locked on the door that led to their chambers while he waited for the inevitable. Nappa was reclining on his cot, looking far more relaxed than he felt. He usually hated waiting around, but in this case, the time was moving far too fast for his liking. Raditz was the only Saiyan standing as he leaned back against the far wall, his eyes on the floor. His only thought was the exact same thought he had every time they were summoned to Frieza's quarters – if death was in the cards for him, he just wanted it to be over fast.
The prince finally removed his eyes from the door, looking down at the bag of money on his lap that they had collected in their assignment. It was just chance that Frieza had been in another sector on family business when he and his Saiyan comrades had returned to base, or this would have happened sooner. Vegeta wished that had been the case. Though he still strongly doubted that he would be killed, he could never be quite sure when it came to Frieza. He just wanted to know, one way or the other.
Nappa and Vegeta suddenly stood up when the door slid opened to their quarters. Dodoria shuffled in, scanned the three over in disinterest, and then looked towards the youngest Saiyan. He motioned with his head for the prince to follow after him. Vegeta grabbed his bag of coins and followed suit, with Nappa and Raditz right on his heels. They took all of two steps before Dodoria turned back around.
"Not you two," Dodoria dismissively said, waving Nappa and Raditz off. "You two monkeys can stay here. Lord Frieza just wants the runt of the pack." Dodoria laughed at the flash of anger on Vegeta's face. Uncaring, he grabbed the prince by the back of the neck and roughly shoved him forward into the corridor, stepping out after him. The metallic door automatically slid shut behind them.
"Damn him," Nappa growled, restlessly pacing a little in the room. "That ugly pink freak thinks he's something special-"
"Screw Dodoria," Raditz snapped. He sat down heavily on his cot, which had no give. He didn't notice, his gaze going back towards the door. "Why does Frieza only want Vegeta?"
"I don't know," Nappa admitted.
After a few seconds of heavy silence, Raditz voiced the question all three Saiyans were wondering. "Do you think he's going to kill him this time?"
Nappa sat down on his own cot and frowned. "Probably not," he answered after a moment of thought. "Frieza favors him. It's saved him before."
"Yes, but favoritism eventually runs out."
Nappa said nothing to that, but he silently agreed.
Meanwhile, Vegeta was walking down a long white corridor with Dodoria right behind him. On the outside, there was nothing but pure confidence in every step Vegeta took. It did well to hide his growing anxiety and paranoia, as he wondered whether or not Frieza had only been bluffing with his threat. His walk finally slowed down when the metallic silver door to Frieza's quarters finally came into view. Sitting crosslegged outside of the door, waiting, were three other soldiers. The prince immediately recognized them as being fellow unranked men. They had all been on the last planet with him in the competition to make the rank qualifying squad. Each of them had a bag of coins, just like he did. Unlike the young Saiyan though, they weren't very good at hiding their fear - with the exception for one other teenaged boy who was just one solar cycle older than Vegeta.
His name was Jhainer, the most skilled fighter that the planet Trika had to offer. In addition to offering up the boy to Frieza, the planet had also sworn loyalty and allegiance to Frieza – it was enough to spare the planet from being purged, or destroyed altogether. Even if Trika had been purged though, Vegeta doubted Jhainer would have been killed. He was too rare a talent to pass by, being blessed with the ability to shape-shift and take on the appearance of any other living being, as well as change the pitch and timber of his voice to sound like anyone he wanted. Both were rare, dying skills of his race. Like Vegeta, he was also an exceptional fighter for his age, and his unique skill set made him another personal favorite in Frieza's eyes.
Dodoria shoved Vegeta towards the soldiers who were all sitting down. The prince shot him a ferocious glare, before slowly taking a seat next to Jhainer, grumbling under his breath. He sat crosslegged, leaning back against the wall. Dodoria then strolled into Frieza's quarters, as though purposely flaunting that as an elite rank 2 soldier, he was privileged enough to do so. Vegeta tried getting a glimpse inside, but the door closed behind Dodoria before he could. He frowned, and turned his attention to Jhainer. The boy only had one eye, having lost the other in a purge. With no pupil, his blank white stare could terrify anyone - except Vegeta.
"How long have you been sitting here?" Vegeta asked, ignoring the other two soldiers who were there.
Jhainer's long and thorny blue tail slowly slid out from under his armor. It lifted up and whipped a little in the air, showing the boy's frustration without him saying a word. Vegeta grunted, already knowing that meant he'd been there a while. At the sound, Jhainer turned his head and looked at the prince sitting next to him, staring intensely at him. Vegeta easily matched the stare. Of the two, Jhainer dropped his eye first, looking down at the bag of coins in the prince's lap.
"How much did you get?" Jhainer finally asked. Unlike the Saiyan prince, whose voice already had the deep, rough edge it would have for the rest of his life, Jhainer's voice was soft and gentle.
Vegeta only offered a smirk in response. "I'm certain it's more than you have, Trikan," he arrogantly responded.
A matching smirk spread over Jhainer's face as he showed off his razor sharp silver teeth. "I was doing well for myself, until you and Tanus wrecked everything. You have poor timing, Saiyan."
"I couldn't help myself. I enjoy wrecking things. It's very entertaining."
"Well," Jhainer said, turning his sights towards the door. "You remember Lord Frieza's warning."
"I doubt he follows through," Vegeta confidently said. "At least not with me and you. He favors us."
"Yes. It pays to be favored, doesn't it, Vegeta?" Jhainer quietly spoke, not looking back at him.
Vegeta scowled and didn't respond. He wasn't quite sure he believed that, and from the tone of Jhainer's voice, he doubted he believed it either. His eyes drifted over to the other two soldiers sitting with them, both nearly twice his age. He had seen them around, but they were both weak compared to him and Jhainer. They were both purple skinned, furry looking beasts with yellow eyes, which Vegeta thought was highly appropriate since they both looked frightened near to death. They were cowards, and they didn't stand a chance.
Still, every now and then, one of them would shoot him a look of pure hatred. Surely, they blamed him for this mess, even though Vegeta hadn't been the one to instigate the trouble – just the one to finish it. He leaned his head back, not looking at them anymore. Their hatred didn't faze him. He was used to it.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Frieza was reading over a holographic report while seated in his levitating chair. Zarbon and Dodoria were both standing on either side of him, and there was one lone, terrified green alien standing in front of all three.
"According to the research we compiled by orders of King Cold, your men are suffering from very low morale," the small, round alien in front of them said. His voice was steady, but the claws on his hands were clicking together from his shaking hands. "Every man who works for you is 30 percent likely to die from injuries sustained in battle, 65 percent likely to take his own life, and only 5 percent likely to die from natural causes. The lower the rank of each man, the higher the odds for suicide. In addition, over half of your men are severely malnourished. But nothing was as bad as the psychological tests."
"Goodness," Frieza quietly said, moving through the virtual pages with flicks of his wrist in the air. "You compiled this report, Shimdro?"
"Yes, Lord Frieza," the alien immediately replied.
"This digital handwriting of yours is exquisite. Just fantastic!" the tyrant delightfully said. He turned towards his right hand man. "Zarbon, look at this. You don't see such care with these reports anymore."
"Very impressive," Zarbon agreed with a smirk.
"Yes, it's quite a lost art."
"Er…thank you," Shimdro said, blinking rapidly in surprise. He then continued, "Lord Frieza, your father recommends you implement changes to bring the suicide rates of your men down. Having these rates so high is counterproductive to building a strong empire-"
"Dodoria," Frieza cut in, looking to his left. Dodoria immediately stepped forward.
"Yes, Lord Frieza?"
"I am almost done with Shimdro. Bring in the group that went to Planet Xin. Have them come in and stay in the back. That ordeal is the next order of business."
"Right away, Lord Frieza," Dodoria said with a short bow, before heading around Shimdro towards the door.
"My dearest Shimdro, we always go through this every two solar cycles," Frieza sighed, barely able to keep the boredom out of his voice. In the back, the two purple furry aliens were walking in, followed by Jhainer, with Vegeta coming in last. The four soldiers quietly lined up at the back wall, and they all automatically lowered to one knee. Frieza didn't acknowledge them as he continued, "Let's just get on with this, shall we? Tell me what your recommendations are, we will update the records for my father's reading enjoyment, and then we can all get back to business."
"An extra day of rest between missions would be beneficial. Installing more regeneration tanks on base would also help. Feeding the men more-"
"Now now, let's not get too excited. Look at the men in the back. Not one of them is starving."
Shimdro turned and looked over at them studiously, slowly nodding. "Yes, yes, I remember each of them. The two Tepmans have severe anxiety, and suffer from extreme paranoia. The Trikan boy is malnourished and has chronic physical injuries that have not improved from the last time we examined him. The Saiyan boy is also malnourished, and his psychological tests show an increasing tendency towards irrational violence-"
"All of that builds character, Shimdro!" Frieza laughed. "They will all be stronger for it, and that is all that matters. Now then, I believe we're done here. Dodoria will show you the way out."
Shimdro sighed. Same result, just a different date on the calendar. All he cared about was leaving unscathed. He bowed as far down as his round frame would allow, and then followed Dodoria back out.
While he did that, Frieza deactivated the holographic report. With one finger, he beckoned the group against the wall to come forward. They all stood up and walked closer, and then they all kneeled back down again. Frieza's eyes were cold as he slowly surveyed the group. The two furry Tepmans were almost shaking in fear, clearly expecting to be executed. Jhainer was still, but he kept his head down, staring at the floor.
Only Vegeta was looking up. The Saiyan glared at Frieza when the tyrant finally settled his eyes on him. Frieza exhaled deeply, and then leaned back in his seat.
"Five of you accepted the challenge I proposed on Planet Xin. Only four of you are here, and I am getting reports of a battle that occurred on this planet. I can't help but be confused, since I know I gave clear instructions that not one of you was to draw any attention to yourselves. So, please, help me understand. Someone tell me exactly what happened." When no one volunteered, he looked back to the youngest member of the group. "Vegeta. Why don't you begin?"
"Yes, Lord Frieza," Vegeta automatically responded out of instinct. He lowered his head and spoke, "We were all doing the challenge that you set forth. Before time was up, however, the fifth man in the challenge, Tanus, suddenly started attacking the city. My men and I felt his power rise on our scouters. I remember you said you wanted the natives untouched. I decided to put a stop to the slaughter before Tanus could cause any more damage. As I suspected, he was having trouble coming up with a decent amount of the native money without using violence, and that was the reason that he snapped. I killed him, and now here we are."
"And now here you are, indeed…" Frieza slowly echoed, scanning the group over once more.
Silence stretched on while Frieza deliberated on what to do. Vegeta reluctantly looked back up, his jaw clenched tightly. Not for the first time, his life depended entirely on the mood of the most sadistic tyrant the universe had ever known. He wasn't even strong enough to put up a decent fight and die with some honor and pride, should it come to that. Every second that passed felt like years to the young prince. He wasn't even aware that he was starting to break into a sweat.
Finally, Frieza reached over and collected the glass of wine next to his seat. "Well," he drawled. "Don't keep me in suspense, gentlemen. How many yins did you each collect? Might as well find out who won this little competition."
"350," the first Tepman proudly shouted.
"10,000," the second one quickly threw out.
Jhainer finally looked up, a slow smile spreading over his face. His quiet voice was strong as he gave his answer. "Just over 103,000, Lord Frieza."
Frieza nodded, then looked directly at Vegeta, waiting for the Saiyan to tell how much he had collected. But the prince's face had reddened from shame at hearing Jhainer's answer, giving the truth away.
"You didn't make more than Jhainer, did you, Vegeta?" Frieza knowingly said.
"I…Lord Frieza, if I would have had more time…" Vegeta started, visibly struggling with finding the right words to say. Accepting defeat in anything was not easy for him, and it showed. But more than that, the prince was finally starting to realize that he likely wasn't going to walk out of that room.
"I'm afraid you are out of time, boy." Frieza raised his glass for a slow drink, contemplated the taste for a few seconds, and then spoke again. "Jhainer."
The teenaged alien perked up, this time making direct eye contact with the tyrant. "Yes, Lord Frieza?"
"You won the competition, and true to my word, you have earned the right to join the rank qualifying squad. Zarbon, take the boy out of here and give him further instruction. Best of luck, young Trikan. I strongly hope you don't die. I would be very displeased with such news."
"Thank you, Lord Frieza," Jhainer quietly said. He gave Vegeta a brief look, but the prince was ignoring him, glaring straight ahead. Jhainer genuinely harbored no ill will towards Vegeta, but he stood, turned around, and walked out with Zarbon without a look back at the Saiyan. In his mind, Vegeta was already a corpse.
When the door closed behind them, Frieza lowered his glass of wine and stood up, slowly levitating down to the floor. Clasping his hands casually behind his back, the tyrant approached the remaining three soldiers who were still kneeling before him.
"The bottom of the food chain," Frieza mused out loud, his tail slowly waving behind him while he circled them. "What to do with you three, I wonder? Two grown men, who both failed the task I assigned. One boy, who thinks he's already a man, when he isn't anywhere close…Tepmans, leave us, but stay close. I will summon you back in here in just a little while. For now, I just want to speak to my favorite little monkey prince."
Vegeta remained silent and unmoving, staring straight ahead while he heard the other two men slowly get up and leave the room, the door sliding behind them. On one hand, he was grateful that whatever happened would not happen in front of others. The added humiliation was too much to bear. But on the other hand, being alone with the tyrant sent an unconscious shiver down his spine.
"Killing one of my men is against the rules when you are unranked, Vegeta," Frieza finally said from behind him. "Or did you forget this?"
"I did not forget, Lord Frieza," Vegeta answered. He was trying to keep his voice steady, a difficult feat when he felt Frieza's tail start to slowly wrap around his neck from behind. "I apologize for my actions but I saw no other choice at the time."
"Your stupidity might not let you see this, my pet, but this task was not without purpose. Often I will require men to infiltrate a planet undetected, move about without drawing any attention. It seems you failed in this. Do you agree?" Frieza casually asked, tightening his tail around Vegeta's throat.
"No, Lord Frieza. I did not fail in that. I was doing fine until Tanus snapped and started trying to wipe out that city. He would have killed more if I hadn't stopped him," Vegeta painfully choked out, his face turning red.
"For once in your life, young prince, you are right. Though I heard about the explosions and the battle, it was not as bad as I feared. You are lucky, boy, because if I had heard a word to the contrary, I would be breaking your fragile neck right now," Frieza threatened. "But then again, according to what you had to say on your scouter, you clearly don't think I would ever kill you. Am I correct?"
Vegeta was now desperately trying to free himself of the tyrant's powerful tail which was outright strangling him, but it was hopeless. He tried gasping in even a little bit of air, but he couldn't, and his lungs started burning. Frieza then roughly yanked him backwards, forcing Vegeta's scouter to fly off his face as the Saiyan crashed back onto the floor on his stomach. His tail's grip on Vegeta's throat never loosened.
"Arrogant, rebellious, self-entitled, stupid boy," Frieza sneered, his tone acidic as he tightened his grip further, making Vegeta's face turn a sick shade of purple. "You think you're that special that you're above being killed, Vegeta? Is that it? Because you aren't, and to be honest, I should kill you right now. You have lost your edge, your killer instinct. I can't tell you how much of a disappointment that is to me."
Vegeta was right on the brink of unconsciousness when Frieza finally released him. The prince shakily rolled onto his back, gasping desperately for air. It took him a moment to regain his bearings again. When he did, he raised his head, one hand on his throat, half-expecting Frieza to be aiming a beam straight for his heart. The tyrant had his arms crossed over his armor, his tail waving lazily behind him. His eyes were hard as he glared down at Vegeta.
"Get up, boy," Frieza ordered. Vegeta was shaking a little, but he slowly forced himself back up on his feet. His neck was already showing signs of bruising as he finally fixed Frieza with a look of sheer hatred.
"Lord Frieza," Vegeta hoarsely started, hating that even now, he had to show the tyrant respect. "I do not understand why you think I have lost my edge-"
"Yes, I know that you're not smart enough to see the signs, so I will enlighten you. Just a few solar cycles ago, you had finally started tapping into your dark nature when you were going through your adolescent growth spurt. I had never seen someone your age being so ruthless. You were unstoppable, Vegeta, a true force of nature. I thought you were finally reaching your full potential.
"But, unfortunately, this didn't last. Recently, you have started…becoming complacent. You are letting your reputation terrorize planets and civilizations, using that terror to get what you want with minimal bloodshed. You have gotten soft, and that reflects poorly on me."
Vegeta was wearing an expression that was a mixture of disbelief, humiliation, and rage. He had never been called soft in his entire life. He was a lot of things, but soft was NOT one of them.
The prince spoke through clenched teeth, "Lord Frieza. That part of my life was in response to a hormonal change some Saiyans go through that triggers bloodlust. Though it was temporary, I have killed plenty since that time, and I will kill plenty more in the future. I have not lost my edge."
"Mmm, yes, you say that, but I am not convinced. The last seven planets I assigned you to, I asked you to purge them and then destroy them. You didn't purge even one those planets. You just went straight into destroying them-"
"I did not understand the point of going through a purge, if the planet would be destroyed anyways-"
Frieza abruptly slapped Vegeta hard across the face, with enough strength to force the Saiyan to fall back completely. The prince winced, his entire head hurting from the shot as his eyes unconsciously watered from the sting, but nothing hurt worse than his pride. Getting beaten, he could take. Those open handed shots though were humiliating.
"Don't interrupt me again," Frieza hissed, reaching down and grabbing Vegeta by the collar of his armor with one hand. He effortlessly hauled the Saiyan back up to his feet, shaking him roughly while he did. "When I give you an order, boy, it's not for you to pick and choose what to follow. Not every planet was as backwards and worthless as your home planet. Some planets actually have things of value, like skilled fighters who can be recruited, or advanced technology I can use. But you won't know unless you do the purge first. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Lord Frieza," Vegeta immediately responded. "I will not make that mistake again."
Frieza slowly released Vegeta's armor, and then chuckled, patting the prince on the side of the face a couple of times. It was all Vegeta could do not to flinch away from the contact.
"Of course you won't, my precious pet. I'm making an investment in you, and I know you won't disappoint me. You are like my son, Vegeta. I know you will make me proud."
"Thank you, Lord Frieza," the prince grumbled, bile in his throat.
"Now then, since we have cleared all of that up. I have some news for you that you might be very interested in. It seems that the fourth member of the rank qualifying squad, a boy from Planet Yentilis…goodness, I've forgotten his name…"
"Wygen," Vegeta quietly said. His brow furrowed a little, before he looked back at Frieza. "He committed suicide earlier today."
"You heard?"
"I saw," the prince corrected, his tone emotionless.
"Yes, well, it's a tragic loss, but as they say - one man's loss is another man's gain. Traditionally, we have four members in the rank qualifying squad, and now, one spot is open. I thought maybe you were still too impulsive and reckless for this, but now I think that this challenge might be what you need. The competitions will be difficult, harder than any assignment you've ever had. The training will be long, grueling, and painful. If you can somehow survive – which is no guarantee - then you will finally be a man. And in the slim chance that you win the competitions, you will have your rank, Vegeta. Do you accept the offer?"
"Yes," Vegeta answered without any hesitation. "I accept."
"Then it's yours. But only under one condition."
Vegeta forced himself not to cringe. He should have known it wouldn't be so simple to get what he wanted. He remained silent, and so Frieza put a hand on his shoulder and turned the young prince around, making him face the door.
"Prove to me that you have not lost your edge, my pet. Kill both of the Tepman soldiers," Frieza ordered, not missing the way Vegeta's fingers started twitching with anticipation of the kill. After the overwhelming stress he had just been under, all the prince wanted to do was indulge in some blood and violence; he was unaware that Frieza had been wanting that very reaction from him. "You have one second from the time the door opens, to kill them, and come back into this room with both of their heads. Show me the killer you really are, and that you haven't grown soft, and the spot on the squad is yours. Do not disappoint me, boy."
"Hn. One second is more than enough time," Vegeta confidently replied, unconsciously leaning forward a little. Frieza chuckled. The prince was an investment indeed. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.
"Show me then," the tyrant challenged, before making the personalized hand signal that made the metallic door slide open.
It only took Vegeta half a second before he was standing before Frieza again. Behind him, in the corridor, two bodies collapsed with loud thuds. There was dark red blood splattered on his armor now, but Vegeta didn't notice as he raised his grisly prizes by their hair, one in each gloved hand, his intense blood-shot eyes not straying from Frieza's.
"Is that enough of an edge for you, Lord Frieza?" Vegeta growled, releasing the heads and letting them fall to the floor.
Frieza chuckled, a small smile on his face. "Delightful display, Vegeta. Yes, that is the edge I like to see. I hope to continue to see it, as you follow my orders in the future to the letter," he added, an unmistakable threat in his voice. "Report to Zarbon for further instruction. Best of luck to you, young prince. I do hope you come out of this in one piece. Dismissed."
Vegeta gave a short bow, and then turned around and walked out. He didn't start breathing again until he was sure that he wasn't going to be called back. Slowing down a little, the prince looked down at the blood on his armor, uniform, and gloves, and scowled at the mess. But it was irrelevant. He was alive, and he had what he wanted – a spot on the elite rank qualifying squad. The means to make the squad didn't matter. He was there now, and it was only a matter of time before he won the status of a rank 5 soldier. In his mind, the hardest part was already over.
Unbeknownst to him, it was only just beginning.