Chapter 55

“You look like shit,” Nappa said as he walked down the corridor.

Radditz looked up from where he was leaning against the wall. “Go screw yourself,” he snarled, curling his lip.

Nappa froze where he stood, his moustache twitching as he stared openmouthed at Radditz. “Watch yourself, soldier,” he said after a few moments.

Radditz growled and turned, punching the wall so hard it left cracks. “Shut up and leave me alone. You know I’m equal to you in rank. No more having to sacrifice myself for your stupid ass.”

Nappa regarded the damage in the wall. “You need to show respect for your elders,” he said coldly.

Radditz’s eyes widened and he rubbed his eyes with a hand. “You have got to be kidding me! You’re going to pull age-rank on me?”

“I’m entitled.”

“You know that yesterday was horrible for me! Why do you have to do this?”

“Are you still pining after that Earth-bitch?” Nappa snapped. “You know that Vegeta did her especially well last night; half the palace heard it.”

“Shut up.”

“Not like he hadn’t before, I’m sure. The Prince has always had talent for any task he sets out to do. Give her up, Radditz.”

“Shut up.”

“Your time on Earth made you too soft. You aren’t even fit to be a warrior anymore.”

“Did I not just tell you to shut up?” Radditz snarled, glaring at Nappa through red-rimmed eyes. He clenched and unclenched a fist, muscles taut with strain.

Nappa’s jaw dropped and he stared at Radditz, dumbfounded. “What?”

“I said shut up, old man,” Radditz hissed, rushing forward and pinning Nappa to the wall.

“If that Earth-bitch had never come here everything would be fine!” Nappa croaked, glaring at Radditz murderously. “She’ll destroy this empire!”

“On the contrary, my dear Commander,” a cool voice floated from down the hallway. “That Earth-bitch, as you so charmingly call her, is the empire’s best asset, especially when juxtaposed with the Prince’s volatile temper.”

“Close your mouth, you filthy green monster,” Nappa rasped.

Zarbon stepped into the light filtering through a window. “Release him, Radditz. Ending his ignorance won’t enrich your life any,” he explained with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Radditz made a sound deep in his throat and pushed away from the larger Saiyan with a scowl. “You got lucky,” he whispered to Nappa.

“You’d best be on your way, Commander,” Zarbon said politely, his voice chilling the corridor.

“This isn’t over,” Nappa snarled at Radditz. “I won’t stand for it.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t care what you do,” Zarbon interjected. “Leave us.”

Radditz watched Nappa’s back as he retreated down the hall. “What do you want?” he asked roughly.

Zarbon sighed and reached a hand out, placing it on Radditz’s shoulder. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen better days.”

“She’s gone forever,” Radditz replied, rubbing an eye.

Zarbon stared at the floor for a few moments, his lips pressed into a fine line. “You knew that a long time ago,” he said quietly.

Radditz looked down into Zarbon’s perfect face, trying to remember when he stopped hating the alien. “It doesn’t make it easier. You wouldn’t understand.”

Zarbon folded his arms over his chest, tilting his head to the side a little and gazing levelly at Radditz with his cool, golden eyes. “What makes you think that?”

“You don’t know what’s it’s like to have loved and lost.”

“Oh? And how much do you think you know about me?”

“Enough.”

“That’s just your Saiyan belligerence talking. How old am I? What was the name of my home planet? Do I have offspring? How many?”

Radditz’s cheeks began to color in embarrassment. “I-I don’t know.”

Zarbon nodded. “That’s right, you don’t. Remember that and you’ll live a longer, healthier life. As for Bulma, think of it this way: she’s alive, and she’s happy, or as close to it as she’ll ever be with Vegeta.”

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Vegeta is not a happy man and has absolutely no desire to make those around him happy. He will live a high-stress, highly-public life for the rest of his days, and she will live that life with him. However, do you think you could have made her happier?” He waited a few minutes for a response and nodded sagely when Radditz couldn’t reply. “And she’s alive, Radditz. You might not be with her the way you’d like to, but you’ll have her friendship for the rest of her life. If her happiness is what truly matters to you, and you truly love her, you will do whatever you can to help her be happy in her life with Vegeta. She may never be in love with you, but she’ll love you for that nonetheless to the end of her days.”

Radditz stared at Zarbon for several moments, mulling it over before nodding slowly. Then he looked at the green-haired man and narrowed his eyes. “Why are you telling me this? What happened to you?” Zarbon’s eyes widened fractionally in response.

“Well? That’s what I’m supposed to ask you now, isn’t it?” Radditz prompted.

Zarbon laughed. “I guess so,” he said with a dashing smile, reaching up and throwing his heavy braid over his shoulder. “I don’t know why, but the past seems to be flowing out of me like water lately.”

“Tell me.”

Zarbon sighed. “Very well, but I’ll give you the short version.” He put his hands on Radditz’s shoulders once again, which made the Saiyan uncomfortable, but he permitted it. He knew that Zarbon operated by a different code than he did. “Value her life, Radditz. I loved a female once, and married her. As much as I loved her, I wanted my happiness just as much as hers, and so I didn’t pay as close attention to her real life and her real feelings as I should have. We were fairly happy anyway, but after a short time together she was killed. I felt as if my soul was ripped from my body, and I haven’t fallen in love since. Of course, this was long before you were even a glimmer in Bardock’s eye. But take it from me, I think about her nearly every day and wish that I could have made her life better just by being in it. I came to realize that what was important was not her capacity to love me, but how I loved her. Take it as you will, and perhaps you will find a way to apply it to your own life.”

Radditz finally couldn’t take the physical contact anymore and stepped away from Zarbon’s touch. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he said somewhat more sharply than he meant to.

Zarbon’s face registered a brief flash of pain before returning to its normal cool expression. “Nothing, I guess,” he replied. “Damn you Saiyans.”

Radditz watched Zarbon take several steps past him before he found the courage to speak. “Zarbon?” he said softly.

Zarbon stopped but did not turn around. “What is it, Radditz?” he asked, voice sounding slightly defeated.

“I . . . I’ll think about it. I really will.”

He watched the back of Zarbon’s head move as the other man nodded. “Thank you,” he said, and moved off down the hall.

---

Vegeta sat in his chair, chin resting on his fingers as he stared at the floor below his royal dais, not turning his head as Zarbon appeared beside him. “I thought you should know that Nappa and Radditz were having a spat this morning,” Zarbon said softly.

Vegeta still did not glance in Zarbon’s direction. “So? I have things other than soldier’s squabbles to worry about,” he said sharply, watching as an Arlian opened the great pair of doors to admit another petitioner.

Zarbon cleared his throat. “This was more than a squabble, Vegeta. Nappa’s pride was seriously wounded, and you know how vindictive he is.”

Vegeta shifted in his chair, sitting up straight. “Just like the rest of the Saiyans, eh?” he said coolly.

“You said it, not me.”

“But you wanted to, Zarbon, you wanted to. It amounts to the same thing.”

“I’m just saying it should be monitored. The situation warrants watching.”

“Are you telling me to distrust my own men? Nappa practically raised me and is obsessively loyal. I’m not concerned.”

Zarbon sighed. “Fine. I’m in no mood to argue.”

Vegeta scowled and finally looked at Zarbon. “What? What’s wrong?”

Zarbon blinked. “Nothing. Why?”

Vegeta settled back into the throne, the scowl still deeply etched on his face. “No reason, you fool. I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

“That’s what I thought. But enough of this. How’s Bulma?”

Vegeta let a crafty smile spread across his face.

“Now, now, that’s not a seemly expression for an emperor’s face,” Zarbon chastised.

“She’ll live,” Vegeta replied. “I feel confident in saying she enjoyed herself.”

He saw Zarbon smile out of the corner of his eye. “And you?”

“Oh, I hate touching the ugly beast, but it has to be done.”

Zarbon laughed out loud, causing a few of the Arlian guards to shift nervously in their positions near the pillars of the expansive hall. “Of course. How silly of me to even ask.”

“Absolutely,” Vegeta replied, glancing at Zarbon again. “Who’s first?”

Zarbon turned and consulted an Arlian for a moment, then turned back to the throne. “A Kijaran. You know, they’re still upset about Anpane. . .”

“To hell with them. I’ll just send you there and you can ease their worries all by yourself.”

“Vegeta. . .”

“Zarbon, show some diplomacy,” Vegeta snapped, and was rewarded as Zarbon took a step back and nearly fell off the dais. “State your business,” Vegeta said to the Kijaran female that knelt at the base of the dais.

She had started into her list of complaints when he heard Zarbon whispering. “So where is Bulma. . .recovering?”

“The west wing. It’s quieter there. There are so many damn dignitaries crawling around this miserable place.”

“So she’s well guarded?”

“Absolutely not,” Vegeta hissed under his breath. “The best thing that could happen to me would be for someone to take the thrice-damned snorklak off of my hands.”

“You never change,” Zarbon replied quietly.

“Most certainly not,” Vegeta said, keeping his eyes on the Kijaran the entire time and nodding occasionally. “Is there anything else?” Vegeta asked her, propping his cheek up with his fingertips.

“No, sire,” the Kijaran said, obviously shaken by Vegeta’s abruptness.

“You’re so mean,” Zarbon whispered.

It gets better, Vegeta replied. “Zarbon will accompany you to your chambers. You can work out the details of the agreement there,” he told her.

Zarbon’s lips parted with surprise.

Don’t disappoint her, Vegeta said.

Zarbon turned and stared at Vegeta, his golden eyes widening. “I can’t believe you’d actually-”

“Believe it,” Vegeta interrupted. He looked at Zarbon for a few more moments, then raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re shirking your duties?”

Zarbon scowled and pressed his lips together. “Absolutely not. I’d like to warn you, though, that I will find a way to repay you for this.”

“I doubt it,” Vegeta said, and watched in silent amusement as Zarbon whisked away the Kijaran. He shook his head to himself slightly, then fixed his black gaze on Atlia, who stood a short distance from him. “Who’s next?”

The rest of the day had been exceedingly dull. Zarbon must have taken his time with the Kijarans. The man had been gone for hours. Vegeta was scowling forbiddingly at the most recent petitioner when an Arlian staggered into the great hall. Guards immediately fell upon it, blocking its entrance to the great hall. The commotion roused the rest of the people in the hall, much to Vegeta’s annoyance. “What’s going on?” he demanded, standing with a flourish of his cape. “How dare you interrupt my audiences?”

Atlia looked at Vegeta expectantly. “Sire?” he rasped.

“Go,” Vegeta snarled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Atlia moved over to where the Arlian was being detained, Vegeta watching closely as antennae twitched. “Sire,” Atlia said, sending the Arlian up towards the throne.

Vegeta kept himself standing straight and proud as the Arlian threw itself at his feet. “Well? What’s the meaning of this?” he bellowed.

“Strange signals have been picked up in the stratosphere,” the Arlian rasped.

Vegeta curled his lip in annoyance. “So? What do you people get paid for? Find out what they are!” he snapped.

“Your majesty, we know what they are,” came the wheezing reply.

Vegeta felt his heart skip a beat, turning cold in his chest. “And?” he forced himself to ask angrily as beads of chill sweat formed at his hairline and the back of his neck.

“They’re ships, sire, in formation.”

Vegeta felt a tremor run through his entire body. What was happening. “Have battle stations been manned?”

“Yes, sire.”

“How long?” Vegeta hissed. A split second later the earth seemed to shake, throwing a few of those assembled to the ground. Vegeta whipped his gaze out one of the arched windows and saw smoke billowing across the cityscape. “No!” he grated. “It’s too soon!”

Atlia appeared beside him. “Orders, sire?”

“Fight, dammit!” Vegeta bellowed. “All of you, fight! If we don’t win this everything will have been for nothing!”

“To battle!” Atlia shouted as loud as he could, raising a segmented hand. Immediately all the Arlians in the place were scurrying to and fro, arming weapons.

“Where’s Zarbon?” Vegeta demanded, eyes blazing as he fixed his gaze on Atlia.

“With the Kijarans, presumably, sire.”

“Get him!” Vegeta shouted, and took a few running steps. Within moments he had discarded the cape and was out the window, heading into the melee.

---

“What in the hell was that?” Zarbon growled, turning his head to try and see out the window.

“Don’t pay it any attention,” the Kijaran said from atop him.

“No, it was definitely something,” he said, looking up at her pupil-less eyes. “I need to go.”

“Are you sure?” the Kijaran female asked, running a finger down the cleft between his pectorals.

He put her hands on her waist and removed her. “Yes,” he said, standing and rushing to put on his armor.

“But-” she began, raising a hand toward him, but he was already gone.

He was, in fact, running down the corridor, fighting hordes of soldiers as they streamed past him towards the outside. After what seemed like an eternity he made it to the throne room, blasting the doors open with ki when they would not open otherwise. Inside the great hall were huddled groups of visiting dignitaries and civilians as well as several guards. “Where’s Vegeta?” he demanded, standing in the doorway, crackling with ki. Everyone just looked at him blankly. “I said where’s the Emperor?” he roared, eyes glittering murderously.

“Outside,” one of the guards finally volunteered. “He left after the first blast, right out the window, sir.”

Zarbon made an unintelligible noise of rage and powered up, hurtling himself out the window.

What he saw outside did not please him. The entire city seemed to be blowing up, with clouds of dust and smoke obscuring his vision. The stink of burning carcasses of all manner of things filled his nostrils and he squinted his eyes against the stench to make them water less, holding his sheathed arm up to his nose. Arlians were firing from the ground with their weapons, but he knew that they wouldn’t be able to see much through the debris blowing around. He glanced up and saw specks floating in the sky. Some of those would be his troops, but most of them could not. There was no doubt about it, whoever was attacking was aware of the Arlians’ weapon capabilities and were taking no chances. That clinched it, then; Freeza had found them at last.

The second thing that occurred to him was to wonder where the other two Saiyans were. He reached into his armor and pulled out a capsule, pushing away the thoughts of Earth that arose as he did so, and extracted the scouter from it. He cursed under his breath as he fastened it to his head, wishing he had found a way to force Vegeta to keep one with him as well. Turning the scouter on, he quickly located the highest power levels. The one to the north had to be Vegeta, for it was the biggest. There were two others he didn’t recognize, one nearly as high as his own. If he and Vegeta were the strongest then the Ginyu Force was not present, nor was Freeza. Still, the fact that anyone at all had arrived was proof enough that Freeza knew. Freeza knew where they were. The implications of that made his blood run cold and he had to consciously remind himself to breathe. Even if they destroyed every single soldier Freeza had sent to the planet it was too late. The confrontation between the two empires was inevitable.

He tapped the scouter again and frowned. Where were Radditz and Nappa? Why hadn’t they powered up yet? He saw a signal flare to life in the southeast, away from the other high power signatures, and wondered which Saiyan it was. He nearly threw the scouter to the ground in exasperation, but managed to discipline himself in time. It wouldn’t do him any good. They had to get this over with as soon as possible, otherwise there might not be anything left. They had the power to defeat Freeza’s small detachment here, but an upper-atmosphere fight rendered most of the Arlian’s weapons useless, tilting the odds in Freeza’s favor. Zarbon uttered an inarticulate roar of frustration and plunged into the fighting, not caring who he killed or how he killed them, just so long as they were dead. The only thing that mattered to him now was the survival of the New Saiyan Empire, and he would do whatever he could to ensure that.

---

Vegeta had known it was Freeza’s forces the second he flew out the window. He had no trouble killing anyone who stood in his way, Zarbon’s extensive training had seen to that, and he wasn’t even winded. In fact, it felt good to battle again, to feel the blood of others on his hands, to smell their fear as they died however he wished them to. His time on Earth had paled in comparison to battle, and he hadn’t even known how much he missed the bloody fighting until he was in the thick of it once again. Suddenly his senses flared to life: there was a bigger power level off to the north. He scowled at the same time that he smiled. Who would it be? Who would Freeza send? Without further hesitation he sped off toward the power source.

He almost didn’t have time to react as the owner of the high power level slammed into him, immediately reaching for his throat, but Vegeta managed to twist out of the way and deal a blow to the back of his opponent’s neck. He floated back a short distance and hovered there, baring his teeth. “Kiwi,” he snarled.

The alien turned around and smiled, showing rounded teeth behind his fishy lips. “Vegeta. So you are alive. I should have believed Freeza when he said he knew his favorite pet could not possibly be dead.”

“Freeza couldn’t kill me. Did you honestly think anything else would have been able to?” Vegeta spat back.

Kiwi laughed, his feelers wobbling with the motion. “I’m surprised that you lived, yes. Anything that could have killed Zarbon should have killed you.”

He doesn’t know, Vegeta thought. He has no idea that Zarbon’s alive. He straightened himself up and planted his hands on his hips. “I’m stronger that any of you ever were. You’ll be sorry that you ever met me.”

Kiwi’s shoulders shook, he was laughing so hard. “I’m already sorry I met you, you stupid Saiyan scum. You’ve made everybody’s life miserable ever since Freeza took you on board. The only time anyone ever got enjoyment out of your existence was when Freeza was put on the puppet shows. It was wonderful, watching you dance, unable to control your own movements. Here, Vegeta, show me if you can still act like a kitty-cat!” Kiwi crowed.

Vegeta felt the claws of rage tearing at his ribcage. “Shut up,” he croaked, his hands balling up into fists so tight the fabric of his gloves threatened to split.

Kiwi swiveled his hips. “You want to make me, monkey?”

“Shut up!” Vegeta screamed, ripping his throat raw with the cry, and flew at Kiwi. The other alien blocked his punches, his fists pounding Kiwi’s forearms and driving him several meters backward.

Kiwi laughed maniacally, the little wattles of flesh on either side of his wide mouth quivering as he did so. He lowered his hands and dealt Vegeta a glancing blow to the ribs. “Those were the days, little Vegeta. Oh, why did he ever have to restore you? You were the perfect marionette!” His fist shot out at Vegeta’s head, and the Saiyan caught the hand between his cheek and shoulder, black eyes burning fiercely.

“You’ll soon wish you remembered nothing,” Vegeta hissed, reaching up and grasping Kiwi’s elbow with both hands. Sweat popped out on Kiwi’s brow and he struggled, tugging as violently as he could to get away from Vegeta’s grasp. “You know I got stronger, correct?”

Kiwi’s eyes became wide and an uncertain smile quavered on his lips. “Heh, now Vegeta, is that any way to treat an old comrade?” he asked.

Vegeta smiled slowly as he transferred Kiwi’s fist from between his face and shoulder to underneath his armpit, pinning it there against the other alien’s struggling. “Comrade? What sort of camaraderie did you ever show me?” he asked coldly, gripping Kiwi’s elbow with a gloved hand.

“I-I was just kidding before, about enjoying Freeza’s show!” Kiwi stammered, trying nervously to pry Vegeta’s fingers from his arm.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Vegeta whispered. “You really shouldn’t be worrying about that arm.”

Kiwi stopped babbling and looked Vegeta straight in the eyes, horror breaking over his wet, purple features. The Saiyan’s smile dropped away and he raised his free hand, Kiwi’s eyes following the movement. Vegeta moved his hand in lazy circles, observing as Kiwi’s gaze traced the motion. “Worry about this,” Vegeta said quietly, forming his index and middle fingers into the shapes of hooks. Without any hesitation he plunged his fingers deep into Kiwi’s wide, frightened eyes and pulled outward, smiling as he felt the spray of warm jelly and fluid on his armor. Kiwi screamed and groped at his face as Vegeta released his hand, drifting aimlessly in the air.

“Please, Vegeta,” Kiwi screeched as blood poured between the fingers he pressed over his eyes. “No. . .”

“You didn’t hear my cries when I was a child,” Vegeta snarled. “Why should I hear yours now?” With a growl he darted in and dealt Kiwi a violent kick to the head. Kiwi’s body spun on its way to the ground, landing with a thud in the dirt. Vegeta drifted down slowly to stand beside the trembling body of his enemy. “You have something in your eye,” he said, reaching down and gathering up a handful of rocks. He kicked Kiwi onto his back and knocked the alien’s grasping arms to the sides with his free hand. A bitter, angry sound escaped his throat as he plunged the rocks into the bleeding sockets, using all his weight to grind the stones further into the alien’s skull. “Well? Do you wish you had died then?”

Kiwi screamed and grabbed at his face. Vegeta pinned his arms to the ground using his knees. “Well?”

“Yes,” Kiwi sobbed, still struggling against the heavier Saiyan. “Yes!”

“What do you think Freeza would do if I sent you back in this condition?” Vegeta asked, knowing that Kiwi could no longer see him smile.

“I’d never get to Freeza. Dodoria would kill me on the ship.”

Vegeta blinked, getting off of Kiwi in order to grab him by the collar and hoist him into the hair. “What?” Vegeta hissed in Kiwi’s face. “What did you just say?”

Kiwi chuckled, the sound’s sanity decreasing with each passing second. “Dodoria’s here. He’d kill me before he let Freeza find out how I failed,” he giggled.

“Where’s Dodoria now?” Vegeta demanded, shaking Kiwi’s body.

“I’d be killed,” Kiwi laughed, flecks of spittle hitting Vegeta’s cheeks.

“Damn you!” Vegeta shouted, suddenly releasing Kiwi and rocketing backwards into the air. He stared down at Kiwi’s laughing, staggering figure, and let loose a ball of ki, scowling as it bit cleanly through the alien’s purple body and crashed into the earth. The explosion was mighty and brief, and when the dust began to settle Vegeta could see no sign that Kiwi had ever existed. “Pitiful bastard,” Vegeta whispered, then raised his nose to the sky, testing the air.

There, there it was, he realized, closing his eyes. A large power level, close to his own, but moving away. Moving towards the capital, he realized with a flash of black rage. It had to be Dodoria. Powering up, he sped away.

---

54 / Bulma’s Hideout / 56