Vegeta twitched uneasily in a restless sleep in his space pod, the voice of a dead man in his head.
"I knew your father…He was always an ally of Pilaz. He would have joined us, without question, especially to get you away from Frieza."
Felsin then turned to face him, beautiful planetary rings behind him in the sky. There was a gaping, burned hole in his chest from a violent ki blast that was bleeding profusely as he smiled at Vegeta.
"Gods, you look just like him-"
The prince gasped as his eyes snapped open while he sat upright. His space pod was rocketing back to Frieza's base planet, streaks of white and orange light flashing past the pod window as they propelled through the planet's atmosphere. He took a moment to regain his bearings, before reaching up to brush his forearm across his sweaty brow as he sighed. He didn't remember exactly when the nightmares had started, but they had been on a steady uptick over the last solar cycle, much to his frustration. Sleep was hard enough to come by, without his mind making things worse.
Once his heartrate had settled, he looked up and examined the panels of the pod over his head. Felsin had said the communications systems behind the panels had been altered, and Vegeta was mildly relieved that such tampering wasn't obvious to the naked eye. Regardless, he would have to keep close watch to ensure the technicians didn't look too closely when they did maintenance on the pods. Fortunately for him, such work wasn't done often.
His dark eyes lingered on the panels above his head a moment longer, his thoughts drifting back to Felsin and the entire resistance movement he'd left behind as he swallowed hard.
We will be in touch, Kyanna had said. He lowered his head, brow furrowing, anxiety twisting his stomach. He had no idea how long it would take for one of the resistance fighters to reach out to him or Jhainer, but his immediate concern was this emergency 'all hands' meeting that Frieza wanted.
Does he know? he absently wondered, the thought filling him with dread. He shook his head a little to rid the paranoia creeping down his spine, and took a deep breath. He would find out soon enough, but in the meantime, he had to act normal. He reached into his armor set, pulling out the trinkets he had stolen from the aerial palace, observing them more thoroughly. The metal was unique, shining brilliantly, and the pieces would fetch him good credits later when he sold them on the black market. He tucked them underneath his seat in the hidden compartment he had, sealing them there for the time being.
He didn't flinch when the pod finally landed, slamming into a cushioned pad on the dock which easily absorbed the impact. Vegeta immediately hit the button to lower the latch, quickly climbing out to find Raditz standing there at the dock, clearly waiting for him. Looking up, he saw Manzin, Jhainer, and Cui's pods about to land as well, among other pods soaring through the atmosphere. It seemed everyone was quickly making their way back.
"Welcome back," Raditz greeted, arms crossed over his armor and his tail wrapped around his waist. He tried to look neutral, but Vegeta caught the flash of relief over his face. "We've been working with Adriel while you've been gone. It took him a day to accept the reality of fighting to the death, but he's been a receptive student since then. Nappa's with him right now."
"Tch," Vegeta scoffed, making his way across the dock towards the base with Raditz on his heels as they both heard other pods start to land behind them. "Manzin and Cui showed up on our mission, claiming there is an emergency and that Frieza wants another 'all hands' meeting. What have you heard about it?"
"That's the word among the men. Everyone isn't back yet though, not even Frieza, so it will likely happen as soon as he arrives back to base. He's been away on family business from what I've heard."
Neither commented further on that as Vegeta walked back into the compound, though his eye twitched at Raditz' words. Family business. That was not promising, especially if Frieza was meeting with Cooler – it always had him returning in a furious mood, which meant bad things for all of them.
"And how long now until the recruits fight to the death?" Vegeta impatiently demanded, his mind drifting already to the agreement he and Jhainer had made to kill Manzin's recruit, Orrin, instead of saving him as had been requested. The boy's death was a task that fell to him. He clenched his fists, eager to get on with it, his adrenaline rising at the thought of relieving some of his stress by getting a little blood on his hands.
"It will be in 7 days."
Vegeta nodded, determined. "Good. Enough time for me to work with the boy-"
They both stopped walking when Vegeta's red scouter beeped with an incoming transmission. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply after he saw that it was from Zarbon. Being summoned straight after arriving back from an assignment always meant one thing – pain for him.
Reaching up with a gloved hand, he pressed the button to receive the call on his scouter.
"Miss me already, Zarbon?" the teenager snidely asked.
"Vegeta. I am glad you are back," Zarbon smoothly answered. "I heard what you said to Manzin on Planet Pilaz, when you told him to inform me that, and I quote, you can complete your own fucking assignments without any assistance. You already know where to meet me, boy – then you can tell me yourself in person before I give you a thrashing. Maybe that will finally fix that smart mouth of yours."
The transmission cut off. Vegeta's jaw was tight with annoyance as he stopped walking. He had forgotten about that little quip he'd made to Manzin, and this was going to cost him precious time. Looking to the side, he addressed the Saiyan behind him.
"Where is Nappa training the boy?"
"They're up north, in the Light Rings."
Vegeta nodded. "Apparently, I've earned myself a thrashing. I'll meet you up north afterwards. We'll train the boy until Frieza arrives."
Raditz nodded back as Vegeta turned down a side hallway, heading to a room he knew better than anyone. Raditz shook his head as he watched the young prince walk off to take a thrashing that would have broken the will of men twice his age across all the galaxies. If Vegeta was anxious though, he wasn't showing it, nothing but confidence in his gait as though he was merely meeting Zarbon for a meal together. Indeed, this happened so often that it seemed to Raditz that Vegeta had simply absorbed the pain from the thrashings as part of his normal life.
Still, he frowned as he watched the teenager for a moment longer, before turning and heading in the opposite direction. He could only hope the prince wouldn't push his rebelliousness too far one day. Favoritism could only last so long, after all.
What Raditz didn't know was that Vegeta was sweating the whole way down to the thrashing room, which the men all referred to as the Blood Room. The name was naturally because one didn't enter without shedding blood, but it was also because the cleaning slaves could never fully rid the blood stains from the floor. The result was a myriad of colorful patterns all over the floor from the different alien species that were punished in the room, a collage that would have almost been artistically appealing if it wasn't so morbid.
Vegeta casually entered the Blood Room, his nose twitching over the strong stench of blood. The whole time, he tried to reason that this was a normal endeavor – Zarbon always made him pay when he would run his mouth on a mission. He clenched his fists, urging back his growing paranoia when his dark gaze settled on the wooden post in the center of the room. There was a soldier already there, his wrists shackled around the post and held up with chains. He looked unconscious, sagging against the post while on his knees, only held up by his wrists over his head. His bare back and arms were covered in a canvas of vicious wounds that tore skin to the bone, dark orange blood seeping among deep burns. Vegeta frowned, recognizing him as a rank 5 man named Wonnox – a not so subtle reminder that even if he did earn rank, life was not going to improve by much.
"Good to see you again, monkey prince," Zarbon's voice said from the side. Vegeta's gaze shifted to him as Zarbon used a blue rag to wipe the orange blood off his arms that had splattered on him. "Throw Wonnox out of the room, will you? I don't want more of his blood on me, how grotesque," he added in disgust.
Vegeta bit down his urge to snap that he should do his own dirty work. Not to mention, this was only prolonging things unnecessarily, and he was impatient to get out of there. Swallowing his anger, he schooled his face into a stoic mask and stepped forward to the post. He then went about undoing the shackles of the other soldier's wrists.
"So how was the assignment?" Zarbon smoothly asked, cleaning the blood off his armor.
"Completed as ordered," Vegeta muttered, releasing the shackles of Wonnox's wrists. The other soldier fell with a bloodied thud to the floor, bonelessly rolling onto his back.
"And did you see anything interesting on Planet Pilaz, Vegeta?"
Vegeta felt a tingle of fear go down his spine over Zarbon's question, but he schooled himself not to react. Instead, he focused on the distraction literally at his feet, squatting down next to the soldier before him as he eyed Wonnox with expertise. The soldier's skin and hair were usually pale, but his pallor was practically white, with orange blood smearing his hair and running from his mouth. He scowled more when he realized the other soldier wasn't breathing, and that a familiar scent was mixing with his blood, one he was very intimate with.
"It looks like you might have accidentally beaten this man to death, Zarbon," Vegeta finally said, glancing up at the lieutenant who was now standing with his back to him.
"Who said it was an accident?" Zarbon smoothly asked, examining the lashes of his fire whip, which weren't burning at the moment. "He tried to desert Lord Frieza's Galactic Army, but the Trials are too far off, so I took care of it. Get him out of the room, boy, and answer my question. Did you see anything of interest on Planet Pilaz?"
"I did not," Vegeta mumbled, grabbing one of Wonnox's wrists and dragging the corpse back towards the door. He felt Zarbon's eyes on him the whole way.
"You defeated a sorcerer king, and nothing interesting came of it?" Zarbon pressed as the metallic door automatically slid open.
Vegeta carelessly tossed the dead soldier out of the room, eyeing him one last time where he landed. Wonnox hadn't been a friend, but he was one of Frieza's toughest men. Vegeta had certainly respected him as a fighter, watching him train and fight whenever possible, mentally absorbing some of his fighting techniques. To see him meet his end in such a way was unbecoming of a warrior, a complete disgrace in the eyes of the prince.
He turned away, making the door slide shut. Vegeta finally shifted his intense glare to Zarbon, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
"Kynton is dead, the planet was freed, and they've sworn their allegiance to Lord Frieza. You heard it yourself on the scouter. Now, if you have something specific you want to ask me, then fucking ask already," Vegeta sneered, masking his anxiety behind the only emotion he fully understood – his rage. His tail slowly uncurled from his waist, fur standing on end. "Otherwise, let's get this over with because I have a recruit that needs my training. Since you are so carelessly killing ranked men, I am sure Lord Frieza will have good use for my recruit."
Several tense moments passed as Zarbon glowered at him, neither speaking for what felt like an excruciatingly long time. Vegeta had sweat running down his lower back, hoping his bravado was enough not to be suspicious.
Zarbon's scrutiny finally seemed to ease, as though he'd been expecting this response. The lieutenant turned back to his collection of painful lashes, picking up a handle with 10 different flexible metal lashes that fell from it. He clicked on the handle, and all the lashes were suddenly buzzing with a blue charge, the electricity promising agony. Vegeta's eye twitched at the sight – one round of the electric whip was easily the equivalent of three with the fire whip. Indeed, more than a few scars on his back and his arms were from Zarbon thrashing him with the electric whip. It was only second to a physical beating from Frieza himself in terms of worst punishment he could endure, and he already knew he'd be feeling nauseous for days from the electricity mixing violently with his ki.
"Always with such disrespect," Zarbon mused. "That smart mouth of yours just earned you twice the usual. I'll see if I can beat some respect into you yet, boy. Get in position."
Vegeta scoffed, unfazed in the face of the physical anguish that awaited him. That was familiar enough. The important thing, the only thing that really mattered, was that Zarbon didn't know the truth. He couldn't have, for if he did, there was no way that he would be undergoing routine punishment. Vegeta's anxiety vanished upon realization that he wasn't going to be beaten to death and discarded like trash, not on this day.
He had learned the hard way as a small boy that accepting his punishment was always the least painful option, and he had no interest in prolonging this longer than he had to. He removed his silver set of armor and his uniform top, exposing the wounds and burns on his bare back that hadn't healed from Dodoria's "pain tolerance" lesson before his departure to Planet Pilaz. Spitting on the floor, he finally stepped forward to the post, his white boots staining with orange blood to complement the faded green blood stains marring the white leather from a dead alien boy on another planet. He then raised his arms around the post, bringing his hands together to the shackles, which automatically snapped shut around his wrists. The shackles were held up by an iron chain that would hold his weight if need be, which he knew deep down would be necessary as he doubted he'd be standing when Zarbon was done.
"Get on with it then," he growled, lowering his forehead to the post as his back muscles tensed up. One round of "the usual" was 50 strikes. Enduring 100 with the electric whip was going to be rough, even with his high pain tolerance. Still, it wasn't his first time, and if he mentally disengaged from the pain, it would make it mildly more tolerable.
Zarbon stepped behind him, the lashes dancing and snapping from his whip handle, all of them live with deadly electricity. Vegeta closed his eyes as Zarbon reared back, his mind drifting to one of the last things Kyanna had said to him about the oracle's prophecy about his own life.
She said that one day you would find peace.
Not on that day he wouldn't, he bitterly brooded, right before his knees buckled and he hissed in pain as Zarbon landed the first strike. As Zarbon began to ruthlessly thrash the life out of him over and over again, making him bleed and ripping his skin with so much force that he eventually lost the strength to stand, Vegeta swore that come hell or high water, he would be the one to kill Zarbon before his days were done.
The Light Rings in the north were training grounds for Frieza's men, used primarily to train young boys in the fighting techniques of Frieza's Galactic Army shortly upon their recruitment. Once the boys grew into seasoned warriors, and especially once they moved up the ranks, they visited the Light Rings less and less. Frieza's soldiers were almost always off planet, but when they were on the base, their focus was to rest if possible – of course, the availability of sex slaves and the presence of the Ozo Tavern also changed the priorities of most men.
The Saiyans had been frequent visitors of the Light Rings when Vegeta was a small boy, fresh after they had been brought into Frieza's service. The young prince was obsessed with training, stubbornly believing that if he did it long enough and hard enough, that he would grow stronger than Frieza and end their servitude. It was only when the Saiyans later found out that their home planet had been destroyed, that it seemed something inside of the prince finally broke. His focus had shifted to his assignments off-planet, as though he wanted to fight and kill more than he wanted to train. Years passed before he finally began revisiting the training grounds. But his visits were never again to the same tempo as the days of his youth, limited to rare occasions when he had energy – and time – to burn.
Adriel found himself now in one of the "rings" – an enormous, elevated, circular platform, one of many that filled the grounds. Surrounding the platform was ki-absorbing blue light that acted like a wall, rising around the circular platform like a large pulsing cylinder that vanished far into the sky. It allowed the use of ki blasts without destruction, and the blue light allowed observers to watch the action without risk – useful for training purposes.
Raditz was currently standing outside of the platform, watching Nappa spar with the young Drokanian boy. The size difference was absurd, but the boy had incredible speed. Still, despite how much Raditz tried to pay attention to the training before him, his thoughts kept drifting to Vegeta.
He mentally prodded Nappa, a scowl on his face. He should have been here by now.
The larger Saiyan easily blocked a kick from the boy fighting with him, effortlessly throwing Adriel back on the floor of the platform. He frowned as he looked out towards the other rings. A few hours had passed since the rank qualifying squad had landed, and they were now vigorously training their recruits. Manzin in particular was brutalizing his recruit Orrin to teach him how to fight the hard way, whereas Cui was doing light sparring with his recruit like Nappa. Jhainer was talking with his recruit, demonstrating how to properly strike and block, though Nappa noticed he kept glancing over at Manzin and his recruit. Vegeta was the only one missing.
He must still be held up with Zarbon, Nappa reasoned, effortlessly grabbing Adriel by the ankle when he tried a sneak attack and launching the boy straight into the light surrounding their ring. The ki-absorbing light was reinforced, and Adriel collided with it as though it was a wall, sliding down to the floor. He'll be here soon.
Raditz didn't reply, crossing his arm over his armor. He could have tried reaching out to the prince telepathically, but knew that any expression of concern would not be welcomed.
It turned out to be unnecessary anyway, as Vegeta dropped down behind him seconds later. Raditz immediately turned around, briefly startled, then looked relieved. He gave him a curt nod, which was only returned with a glare. The prince was only in his black uniform pants and his white boots, gripping his armor, cape, uniform, and gloves with one hand. Vegeta's scouter was on, and there was visible tension gripping his face, his eyes narrowed the slightest bit from the pain he was trying to hide. There was crimson blood smeared over his bare chest, and Raditz already had a good idea of the damage to his back.
Raditz wisely ignored commenting on the state of the prince or expressing concern over another round of pain endured without the opportunity for a regeneration tank afterwards. All things considered, Vegeta was alive and on his feet, and that was all that mattered. Raditz gestured instead to Nappa in the ring with Adriel.
"Kid's not too bad," Raditz commented, earning a grunt of indifference from the prince. "Once in a while, he's gotten the jump on Nappa. He is fast."
"Have you done the sensory training yet?" Vegeta demanded, his dark gaze shifting over to Manzin with his recruit. He scoffed when he saw that Manzin almost had Orrin beaten unconscious; he may not need to kill the boy after all at the rate Manzin was going.
"No, we figured we'd leave that to you."
"Fine," Vegeta gruffly said. "Disengage the light and I'll take over from Nappa."
Raditz nodded, making a hand gesture to Nappa. Nappa nodded back, and made a verbal command that made the light around the circular platform vanish. Vegeta shoved his gear into Raditz's chest, forcing the other Saiyan to grab hold, and then easily leapt up onto the platform.
"You're out, Nappa," he announced, holding his black uniform top with one hand, bloodied from him using it to try to wipe some of the blood off his skin. Raditz cringed when he saw the state of Vegeta's bare back – every inch of his tanned skin was either deeply ripped open or covered with blood from the merciless thrashing Zarbon had given him.
The prince reached up with one shaking hand to rub his eyes so he could focus while Nappa left the platform, nudging up his scouter. He regretted not taking the healing vial from Felsin now – the 'bone breaking' session, followed by Dodoria's lesson, followed now by Zarbon thrashing the life out of him were all catching up. His high pain tolerance had maxed out, and he had wound up passing out cold before Zarbon was done – not that it had stopped the lieutenant from finishing the punishment. Vegeta didn't know how long he'd been unconscious, but from how sore he was when he woke up, he ventured it had probably been a solid hour. Zarbon hadn't even had the courtesy to drag him to the medical room afterwards, instead leaving him limp, bleeding, and fastened to the post, like a beaten animal. He had at least, unfastened Vegeta's shackles which let the prince easily free himself once he roused, though Vegeta hadn't been able to walk five steps before sinking to his knees and vomiting up everything in his stomach. He had almost passed out again, shaking and soaked in sweat, but he stubbornly got back up to his feet. A quick visit to the lavatory all the men shared to get some cold water on his face, and then it was back to work.
Lowering his hand, he settled his hard gaze on Adriel. He had survived once again, and though he couldn't avoid the pain, he had at least avoided suspicion for the time being. He felt mildly dizzy and nauseous, but aside from that, he was relatively calm. The only thing he had to do now was train a young boy in the art of fighting. While he was not exactly a trainer, he was a skilled warrior, and he wanted Adriel to win in the upcoming days. Mostly because it would assure him of another point, but also because he just needed some kind of win in these dangerous times he was living in.
"Lights in Ring number 11A, activate lights," Vegeta ordered, and the blue light came up again with a buzz. Adriel raised his fists, his body language brimming with hatred, and Vegeta snickered.
Alright kid. Assuming you want to live more than you hate me, I'm going to teach you about sensory fighting. This is what separates the amateurs from the warriors, Vegeta sent telepathically, stepping towards Adriel as he folded his uniform in his hands. Adriel took a wary step back, but he stopped when he saw the slight way Vegeta's hands weren't steady. He truly took in the sight of the prince, who looked worse for wear, and then remained still. He knew that Vegeta was stronger then Nappa, but it didn't appear that the youngest Saiyan wanted to harm him…at the moment.
Adriel remained tense, but he couldn't quite hide his surprised body language when Vegeta tied his bloodied black uniform top around the Drokanian's eyes, effectively blindfolding him.
Now then, Vegeta gruffly said, taking a few steps back from Adriel. It's not enough to fight with strength, power, and speed. You must learn to leverage all your senses in battle. If you can anticipate the moves of your opponent, you'll always be one step ahead, and it will help give you an edge when you are outmatched. This kind of fighting may well save your life.
But how? Adriel asked, panicked. I can't see anything, and I can only hear the buzzing of the lights.
You have to feel the shift in the air, boy, when someone comes for you. Listen to your opponent breathing, and the way the patterns of breath move. Even a drop of sweat and how it falls and lands can give you the orientation you need. You can feel the energy from a ki blast before it hits you, which can let you dodge even if it's a sneak attack. If you can master this, not just in a fight, but unconsciously even in your sleep, no one will be able to sneak up on you again.
Adriel mentally stammered, But- but- but how-
Enough talk, Vegeta snapped, his patience running out. You will fight me now, boy. Don't worry – I won't use my maximum, as it does me no good to accidentally kill you. Trust your instincts, he ordered, shifting into a fight stance.
Though he'd been annoyed to have to train a recruit, Vegeta was grateful for the training session that ensued. Fighting was positively therapeutic, the rise in adrenaline numbing the pain in his back and curbing his nausea, making his blood rush with excitement. Though he easily outmatched Adriel, he was thrilled with finally getting the opportunity to explore an entirely different fighting style. And while he'd never admit it, he was incredibly impressed with how quickly Adriel began adapting to fighting blindfolded. The boy was indeed incredibly fast, faster than Vegeta remembered, which excited the prince. Should the boy earn entry into the Galactic Army, he'd make a worthy sparring partner within a couple years – provided his hatred eased over time, which was no guarantee.
Vegeta was so caught up in training Adriel, that he completely forgot about everything with the resistance, and even his lingering task to kill Manzin's recruit. He was completely in his element, thriving in a fight that wasn't life or death, but was entirely skills based.
That is, until they all saw a large spaceship soar into the atmosphere from overhead. All the fighters in their respective rings paused, and Vegeta paled as he recognized Frieza's ship.
"Ring number 11A, deactivate lights," Vegeta ordered in a rushed breath. He strode over to Adriel, roughly removing the makeshift blindfold. "We gotta go, kid."
What? Go where? Adriel asked, bewildered, but Vegeta had already hopped off the platform. Adriel glanced around, and all the other recruits were scrambling and doing the same.
Raditz handed Vegeta his silver set of armor with his black cape, and the prince quickly slipped it on, bringing it down over his back. His nose twitching was the only indication of the pain that shot through him at the motion. He didn't bother with the uniform top, tossing it aside and leaving his arms bare.
"Nappa, this kid has no natural ki ability, so bring him along," Vegeta ordered roughly as he quickly slipped on his gloves, his face covered in sweat as the pain in his back came roaring back to the forefront. He didn't wait for a response before blasting into the sky, and Raditz was quickly on his heels. Adriel had zero time to do anything before Nappa seized him by the back of his armor, taking off into the sky with him.
The alarms were going off by the time they all got back to the base. The Saiyans once again found themselves sprinting with the other soldiers towards the Cold Gathering Chamber. Vegeta had the brief fleeting thought as he caught sight of Manzin running ahead of him with Orrin behind him, that he could take advantage of the situation and make a move to take Orrin out now. He quickly shelved the idea – it was too obvious, and there were too many witnesses. The boy had to disappear without a sound or a trace. Regardless, it was a problem he would deal with later. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Raditz and Nappa were right on his heels, and Adriel was keeping pace. The kid's survival instincts were starting to kick in, and Vegeta knew there was hope for him yet.
They all ran into the Cold Gathering Chamber, automatically lining up by rank in neat orderly rows. Vegeta took his usual place near the back, Nappa, Raditz, and Adriel lining up with him. Vegeta glanced around as other soldiers ran in to line up as well, and he made brief eye contact with Jhainer who was lined up at the opposite end from him with his own recruit. The two teenagers stared at each other for a couple seconds, the tension in one mirrored in the other, before turning their attention back to the front. Vegeta frowned in confusion when he saw a digital display in the front, with about fifteen white blinking lights slowly moving across. He had no time to dwell on what it meant before the alarm abruptly stopped.
Frieza then walked across the front, followed as usual by Zarbon and Dodoria. When he turned and faced hundreds of his men, everyone lowered to one knee, the recruits a second too slow but quick to follow suit. Vegeta lowered his head when he saw the rage on Frieza's face and the way the tyrant's tail was whipping behind him. His deep wounds on his back pulsed under his armor as he swallowed heavily, his anxiety returning with crippling intensity. Whatever this was, was not good.
"Gentlemen. Shown on this display behind me, are some of my men who are on their way back here to meet with us," Frieza explained in mock politeness. "Unfortunately, they were unable to return on time. Zarbon?" he prompted, staring straight ahead, his eyes cold and murderous.
Zarbon took out a device, and pushed a single button as Vegeta raised his dark eyes to see. Just like that, all of the blinking dots on the digital display vanished, and some hushed gasps came from the men who were kneeling.
"When I say get back on time, I mean it," Frieza venomously sneered, locking his hands behind his back as he glanced back at the display. "The space pods carrying these men in flight have exploded, and they have now joined their races in oblivion. Let their lives serve as an example to each of you of just how serious I am when I order all of you back for a meeting."
Vegeta looked back down as his stomach churned – he had been fortunate that Planet Pilaz was only a day's flight away from base. It was sheer chance that he hadn't been further away on a different mission when Frieza had summoned them back, for they couldn't alter the speed of the space pods. It was absurdly unfair, even by his standards. He grit his teeth in anger, not over the men who were killed, but because it could have so easily been him. As a warrior, he could literally not imagine a worse way to die.
"Now then, to the reason I summoned you all here," Frieza continued, slowly walking forward as he began to snake his way through the ranks of his men. "I was at a meeting with my father, and he informed me of a rumbling throughout the galaxies. Rumors, you see, of a resistance movement against me."
Frieza paused to stare at one particular soldier, a burly alien with three eyes and two antenna coming out of his forehead. The alien was easily three times Frieza's size, yet he visibly trembled with fear, avoiding Frieza's gaze. The tyrant coldly passed his stare to his other men, scrutinizing each of them. Not one soldier was looking up, all of them stiff, most holding their breaths. It was deadly silent as Frieza continued staring them all down. In the back, the Saiyans were still like they were made of stone – the youngest Saiyan staring down at the floor, certain that any movement would betray him.
"At first, I didn't believe it. You see, gentlemen, when you are in power – I am talking about real power – there will always be a small segment of cowards who will converse amongst themselves in their dingy taverns on their insignificant planets, dreaming of a heroic conquest. It's nearly impossible to crush all of these whispers, but so long as they are not foolish enough to cause real trouble, we can allow them to have their worthless dreams so their pathetic lives have some meaning. If the whispers grow too loud, I usually obliterate an entire galaxy to send a message, and that puts things to rest once more."
Frieza paused behind another soldier, a short and burly humanoid rank 4 man who did not react to the tyrant's proximity, his face masked by his long brown and white streaked hair that was sweaty and hanging in his face as he looked down. Frieza scrutinized him, his tail waving behind him, before he continued.
"On this occasion, though, it seems there are more than whispers and rumors," Frieza stated, a deadly calmness in his voice as he maneuvered around his men. "My brother had several of his soldiers purging a planet named Tiragon, and one government man stepped forward offering information in exchange for saving his race. It turns out that some of the weapons specialists on Planet Tiragon left the planet a couple of solar cycles ago, to another planet that is unknown. Through communications monitoring with their family back home, however, it was noted that these weapons specialists mentioned being part of a resistance movement to kill me. It also turns out that they are engineering a weapon capable of wiping me out, along with my family. Cooler's men continued their purge of Planet Tiragon and took this man in for further questioning, but he knew none of the specifics. He did, however, tell us one other interesting fact…"
Frieza paused again, this time right next to Vegeta. The prince didn't react to his threatening proximity, though his tail tightened the slightest bit around his waist. He was no longer breathing, the small hairs on the back of his neck standing, sweat drenching his skin under his armor. A bead of sweat ran down his nose, dripping on the floor. He kept his face stoic, even though his heart was pounding so hard he wondered if Frieza could hear it. Bile was in his throat from the nausea of the electric whip combined with his anxiety, but he held steady with every ounce of discipline he had.
"He said that the resistance has recruited men from within my Galactic Army to help their effort, to work from the inside to bring me down. Imagine how disappointed I was to hear that," Frieza softly said, rage simmering under his voice as he glared at Vegeta for several long seconds. Finally, he continued moving down the line, scrutinizing the other men. It took all of Vegeta's discipline not to show his relief.
"So I tell you all this. For whoever has aligned themselves with this resistance movement, step forward now and tell me everything you know, and you will be shown leniency. If you do not confess to your treachery here and now, I guarantee you that once I find out the truth, I will personally show you the kind of pain that will linger in your bones long after you are dead. Now is your opportunity. Well? Anyone want to confess?"
A heavy silence stretched on for some long moments, but no one said a word. Frieza exhaled slowly, his fist tightening behind his back.
"Very well then," he sneered, tail whipping behind him. "Until such time that I find out who is helping my enemies – and trust me, I will find out – no more regeneration tanks, and no more food for anyone. Off-planet missions will also be halted, until we get to the bottom of this. Rank qualifying squad, your training and competitions will continue, and you will report to Dodoria immediately. Everyone else, recruits included, is dismissed."
"Rank qualifying squad members, line up in the back!" Dodoria yelled.
Everyone quickly stood. Vegeta's legs felt shaky, but he smoothly got up to his feet anyway before walking over to where Dodoria was waiting. His walk was normal as he crossed his arms over his chest, carrying himself as he usually did while he came up next to the other squad members. He and Jhainer stood together, side-by-side, both of the teenagers appearing stoic and almost indifferent.
"How's your recruit's training coming along, Vegeta?" Jhainer asked, earning a glance from the prince. It was clear from the question that Adriel was the last thing on the Trikan soldier's mind.
"Worry about your own kid, Trikan," Vegeta quietly answered.
No one paid either of them any mind, soldiers leaving and nervously conversing amongst themselves as they left the Cold Gathering Chamber. Vegeta raised a fist up to his mouth, his dark gaze shifting over to Frieza who was walking out from the opposite side of the chamber, Zarbon following close behind with his cape waving behind him. His eyes then shifted to Dodoria, who was yelling at Cui for the state of his black cape. Further back, Manzin was chastising his recruit. Vegeta scowled at the sight of the boy – despite being no more than 12 solar cycles old, Orrin was tall and of stocky build, with messy orange hair that reminded him of his pilot brother who wanted to save his life. Orrin was wearing bruises and blood on his face, looking positively miserable and almost on the brink of tears as Manzin harshly tore into him. His blade for a left arm was quite the weapon, if only Manzin could teach him how to use it; fortunately for Vegeta, it seemed Manzin was a lousy trainer.
"Are we still staying the course in having our recruits work together to eliminate Manzin's and Cui's recruits in their fight to the death?" Jhainer softly asked, suddenly getting Vegeta's direct attention. The Saiyan prince blinked in surprise; there had never been such an agreement between them. "There is a chance that Manzin or Cui might find out what we're planning, but I think it's worth the risk to advance in the competition," he quietly added.
Vegeta read between the lines and then it dawned on him what Jhainer was really talking about, which had nothing to do with their recruits or the rank qualifying squad at all. The prince scowled and glanced back once more to where Frieza and Zarbon had disappeared, before nodding once. Frieza had promised leniency for confessing, but Vegeta knew that he and Jhainer were both dead if Frieza ever learned the truth. The only chance he had now was to put his bets on the resistance movement; there was no turning back now. He took a breath, and nodded again.
"Yes. I agree. We stay the course," Vegeta whispered, as Jhainer nodded next to him.
"So be it."