Chapter 60

His shoulders ached from sleeping on bare rock and he still had sand in his boots, he realized as he threw open the heavy wooden doors. The doors slammed against the stone to either side, vibrating with the impact long after the initial strike. He scowled and glared around the room at the faces that watched him, expressions guarded. Fools, every single one of them. Their misgivings were nearly tangible to him, so real that he felt he could just reach out a gloved hand and snatch them out of the air. How dare they have so little faith in him? Didn’t they believe that he could defeat that abomination Freeza? Did they really think that he could possibly fail? “What the hell are you staring at?” he snapped at everyone assembled around the long stone table.

“You’re late,” Zarbon said from the other end of the slab. “Where were you?”

Vegeta refused to meet those sharp golden eyes, instead glaring at the Namekian. “I don’t have to tell you that,” he growled, pushing away the rage that seized him when he thought of Zarbon. “We’re not here to discuss my habits. We are here to finalize our plan of action.” He cast about and pulled a chair close to the table, sitting in it heavily. The woven metal of the seat dug into his bodysuit, but he welcomed the physical discomfort. It was so much easier to deal with than other kinds of pain. He hazarded a quick glance around the table, examining the expressions on everyone’s faces. The woman was staring at a wall, her face packed full of concentration, as if she was determined to notice everything but him. The foolish wench- she was probably upset that he hadn’t put in an appearance last night. Curious, he cautiously sent a tendril of thought her way, trying to ferret out what was going on in her head, but suddenly came up against a barrier. Beads of sweat formed at his hairline. She shouldn’t have been able to do that to him. She was just a miserable human, and as such there should have been no possible way for her to block his entrance to her thoughts. He wondered if perhaps he really had underestimated her powers. That might be something he would want to attend to later.

That ignoramus Kakarott was staring at him openly, a blank look in his large, dark eyes, and Vegeta automatically dismissed him. Kakarott would be useless on this mission. He might be a strong fighter for being raised on Earth, but there was no possible way he could beat Vegeta. The half-Saiyan brat sat next to Kakarott and Vegeta narrowed his eyes at him, examining. The boy had shown incredible power levels in the past, but he was still just a child. The brat stared back at him fearlessly, eyes far older than the face that held them. Vegeta scowled at the boy, who simply continued to stare at him flatly. He supposed it wasn’t too surprising that the boy was not afraid. As Kakarott’s son, he had never had anything to be afraid of. He supposed the boy had known the trauma of having his parent killed. He always forgot that Kakarott had been dead a year before he and Zarbon arrived on Earth. Fortunate child- his killed father had come back to life. A snarl threatened to twist his lip and he quickly looked away from the boy, only to be confronted by Radditz’s expression. The large man, larger even than Zarbon and the Namekian, was looking at him differently than all the others. Vegeta read something strange in his face, something that he hadn’t expected. Was it. . .pity? Was that bastard third-class scum actually pitying him? There seemed to be sadness in his glance as well. Anger boiled up within him and he suddenly wanted very much to blow everyone in the room into oblivion, especially that damn bitch he was mated to and freakish Zarbon. Zarbon thought he knew so much, didn’t he? Vegeta wanted to wipe the detached expression right off his perfect face. Wallowing in hatred, he was almost startled when someone spoke. “Sire? Shall we begin?” a raspy voice asked. Vegeta’s head snapped around to glare at the speaker, his eyes coming to rest on Atlia, who was sitting directly to his left.
Vegeta straightened up, reminding himself that he was an emperor. It was amusing, actually; he had never really expected to be so successful in creating an empire. All he had wanted was enough troops to keep Freeza’s forces busy while he killed their monstrous leader, nothing more. Now, however, he had millions of people backing him up, and the chances of his forces defeating Freeza had improved vastly. If the Ginyu Force could be defeated, and he managed to call up enough power to kill Freeza, he just might win. Of course, there was no question in his mind that he would die fighting Freeza. He had nearly killed himself enough times to know that summoning enough energy to destroy the disgusting monster would burn him out like a light bulb. Well, it was worth it if Freeza died. He would be free of the woman and Zarbon as well. He could finally be alone, sinking into nothingness. He realized that everyone was still waiting for him to speak, and with an angry flush he began. “What happened was inexcusable,” he snarled. “We should have been able to defend ourselves better than that! Look at everything we lost!” Something in his chest constricted as he remembered the cold horror that had settled in his heart when he realized his woman was buried in the palace rubble. The prospect of never seeing her shining eyes again, eyes he had once hated so much, of never feeling her fingers dance lightly across his skin, inflaming him, of never hearing her voice call out his name, had suddenly seemed more terrible to him than the abominable acts he had suffered at Freeza’s hands. He could not fathom losing her, and that only made him hate her, and himself, all the more. How dare she do this to him! And Zarbon, Zarbon was even worse. When he thought Zarbon was dying right in front of him, while he was powerless to do anything about it, he suddenly wanted to tear the universe apart with his bare hands. He hated the green-haired man, hated the pain he saw in those golden eyes when they met his. Unforgivable, all of them.

“The deployment of the troops should have taken place immediately, sir,” Radditz offered, arms crossed over the massive chest. “However, Nappa, the officer in charge of that, never gave the orders, not even after the enemy pods touched down. In fact, no one can vouch for his whereabouts at the time.”

“He’s been taken care of,” Vegeta snapped, noticing Zarbon scowl out of the corner of his eye. Something was obviously bothering him about Nappa, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have time for Zarbon’s petty concerns. “His mistakes cost us much. However, it wasn’t Nappa’s fault that we didn’t know about the damn troops until they were right on top of us! How do you explain that, Atlia?” he hissed.

“Our radar didn’t pick them up until they were in our orbit, according to our data. However, the alarm wasn’t sounded until the systems picked them up in our atmosphere. Apparently they sent in troops beforehand to take out our remote operations managers, and the equipment in the castle can only pick up objects once they have entered the atmosphere,” Atlia replied.

“What?” Vegeta shouted, slamming a fist down on the table. “You mean to tell me that they sent down troops that weren’t in ships to kill our detection operators?”

“It makes sense,” Radditz grumbled, stroking his chin with his fingers. “The only places we’re capable of monitoring our orbit and our stratosphere are in locations remote from the capitol. The automated systems are set up to only send out an alarm once something enters the atmosphere, and by then it’s nearly too late. Killing the operators, who were supposed to sound the preliminary alarms, ensured that they could get close to us before we noticed them. That’s a pretty sharp move.”

“But why couldn’t the radar pick up the lone soldiers?” Kakarott’s brat asked, raising a hand.

“Arlia has quite a bit of airborne debris. If we tuned the radar to pick up objects as small as a lone soldier, and without significant amounts of metal to boot, our alarms would be sounding all the time,” Atlia explained.

Radditz’s scowl deepened. “But how would Dodoria’s men know that?” he murmured.

Atlia shrugged, his exoskeleton creaking as he did so. “I have no idea.”

Zarbon stood suddenly, face as pale as milk. He knocked his chair over in his haste and vanished from the room in a flurry of green braid and snapping white cape. “What was that about?” Kakarott asked. “Did something make him mad?”

“I thought he looked worried, Dad,” the brat replied, placing a small hand on Kakarott’s arm.

The Namekian rose as well. “He knows something,” he growled, and also left the room.

“What’s going on?” Kakarott asked, large eyes still blank.

“It doesn’t matter. Let the fools leave,” Vegeta snapped.

“Zarbon is not a fool,” the woman snarled, slapping her hands on the table palms-down. “If you believe that then you’re the biggest idiot on the planet!”

“Shut up, woman,” Vegeta spat.

“I won’t shut up! Zarbon knows more about Freeza’s forces than any of us. Hell, he helped control them for decades! Why do you think Freeza would want Zarbon killed if his loyalties had changed? This Freeza guy might be crazy, but he doesn’t sound stupid.”

Vegeta saw Radditz stiffen out of the corner of his eye, the large man’s face paling. “That’s why Dodoria targeted Zarbon and not the Prince,” he murmured. “He doesn’t see Vegeta as a threat. It’s Zarbon he’s worried about, because Zarbon has the knowledge of Freeza’s whole empire locked in his brain.”

“But Zarbon doesn’t know much about Cold and Cooler’s parts of the empire, correct?” the woman asked.

“I suppose not. I guess we lose our slight advantage, then,” Radditz replied.

Vegeta no longer tried to suppress his frustration. Here they were, carrying on as if he wasn’t even in the room, and he was ruler of them all! “Silence!” Vegeta shouted. “I’m the emperor and you will do what I tell you!”

His wife shook her head and made an insulting gesture with her fingers. “Short man’s syndrome,” she said dryly. Radditz and the brat immediately choked trying to contain their laughter. Kakarott looked around the room, scratching his head.

“I don’t get it,” he said, and Radditz began to laugh aloud.

Vegeta felt his face heating up with rage. “I said silence!” he bellowed, bringing his fist down on the stone table so hard that it cracked in two and crumbled to the floor. All laughter immediately ceased. “We leave tomorrow morning. We will figure out our plan of action on the ship. You, woman, the brat, and Atlia will come up with a defense plan for the Empire. If you fail me, and Freeza’s forces don’t get you first, I swear by all that you hold sacred that I will return and personally rend you limb from limb. Kakarott, Radditz, you shall come with me, along with the Namekian and that useless Zarbon.” He fell silent and everyone stared at him, his wife’s face mirrored by Radditz as they glared at him with ill-concealed anger. Kakarott smiled mildly and his brat raised his hand again.

“Are we dismissed?” the boy asked.

“Yes. Leave me,” Vegeta grumbled. One by one they stood and walked out of the room. Vegeta sank back in his chair and sighed. It was out of his hands, now, until he met up with the Ginyu Force. It was up to others to protect what he and Zarbon had built. Zarbon. An involuntary snarl twisted his lip and he pushed away thoughts of his aide. He didn’t need the golden-eyed man. He could do this by himself. Besides, once he stood face to face with the Ginyu Force, he would finally be able to do what he was meant to do. His snarl turned into a cold sneer, one filled with glee but devoid of mirth. He could be a killer once again.

---

Zarbon felt the Namekian pull alongside him as he stormed down the hall, their white capes flapping in unison on the air currents their movements created. “You know something,” the Namekian said quietly.

“No,” Zarbon corrected him. “I only think I know something.”

“I wasn’t here when everything happened,” the other man said. “Why don’t you explain it to me.” It was not a request.

“Piccolo, right?” Zarbon said, glancing over at the tall, green-skinned man. “Well, basically, I was in bed soothing the objections of the Kijaran diplomats, Vegeta was giving audiences and hearing complaints. All of a sudden there were explosions and we were under attack. The troops were deployed immediately and a battle ensued. I managed to kill the commander of the forces, a person who used to occupy a post similar to my own in Freeza’s forces, and the rest of the enemy troops were killed or subdued. Now we know that Freeza is aware of our position and situation, and wants us dead. We’re going to try and catch him off guard by attacking him first.”

“But you’re planning to leave Vegeta’s empire in place as bait,” Piccolo said.

“More or less. I have faith that Bulma can pull off something. She’s supposed to be a genius, after all,” Zarbon replied, glancing around at the featureless stone hallway, waiting for an indication they were going in the right direction. He spied a seal set in the stone about three feet off the ground. “Turn right here.”

“I don’t know her that well,” Piccolo admitted, following Zarbon. “But between her and Gohan they should be fine. He might not seem strong, but I think he’d come through for her in a pinch.”

“I wish we could leave you and Radditz behind to help them,” Zarbon said with a sigh, “But I think that we’re going to need all the help we can get to defeat the Ginyu Force.”

“Are they very fearsome?”

“They’re the best soldiers in all of Freeza’s empire, including the new additions of his slain father’s and brother’s troops. I could take out a couple of them, but not the Captain. We’ll be extremely lucky if we live through that battle. However, we have basically no chance against Freeza, unless we get unbelievably lucky or a miracle happens.”

“What about a Super Saiyan?”

“Super Saiyan? Where did you hear about that?” Zarbon said, stopping in his tracks and staring at Piccolo’s stern face.

“Gohan told me. It was something that he overheard Radditz telling Goku. Once Goku realized that sort of power was the key to defeating Freeza and keeping everyone safe, he began to train even harder to try and reach it.”

“Which means he’s nearly as strong as Vegeta now,” Zarbon whispered.

“Probably, yes.”

“Well, I’ve never seen a Super Saiyan. No one has for thousands of years. I have no idea how we’ll know if one of them has become one or not.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be able to tell,” Piccolo replied. “Now where are we going?”

A cold smile crossed Zarbon’s face. “To speak with an old friend.”

They continued walking for some time, but finally reached a stairway leading down into a series of cellars. Zarbon followed the line of lights, which were actually fireless torches hung at intervals on the walls. He noticed Piccolo glance once or twice at the strange, orange lights, remembering how he had been unaccustomed to them as well at one point in time. The Arlians were a strange people, with no technology whatsoever save for certain types. They didn’t even put glass in their windows most of the time, but yet used these strange, glowing compounds for lighting. The sight of several armed Arlians at the end of the corridor roused him from his musings and he pulled up short in front of the stone door. “Let us pass,” Zarbon ordered.

“I’ll need your authorization clearance, sir,” one of the soldiers rasped. Zarbon sighed and reached into his armor, pulling out a small stone card. The soldier passed it over one of the torches and handed it back. “Right this way, Master Zarbon,” it grated, and Zarbon motioned Piccolo to go ahead. Another guard followed them inside and locked the door behind him.

“What’s all this security for?” Piccolo asked. “Is this fellow that dangerous?”

Zarbon barked a bitter laugh. “Not to you or me. He’s a Saiyan, though, and that makes him dangerous to pretty much everyone else on this planet. Besides, Vegeta doesn’t want anyone interfering with his punishment.”

“Punishment for what?”

“This fellow used to be the commander of the armed forces. He failed to dispatch the troops at all. I managed to do so once I became aware of the situation, but if it hadn’t been for Radditz even more damage would have been done. At any rate, Nappa’s performance is inexcusable by any standards.”

“This...Nappa...he arrived here with you, Vegeta, and Radditz?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t he come to Earth with the rest of you?”

Zarbon sighed. “Well, he was killed by the Arlians immediately after landing. Actually, his death was how we became aware of them. After Vegeta took over Arlia and was conquering new additions to his Empire, Radditz inadvertently wished him back to life, thinking he was bringing Vegeta back from the dead. Thus was Nappa restored and returned to us. Vegeta gave him the same position he had held in the Saiyan army. Actually, commanding armed troops was the only thing Nappa was really good at. That’s why this lapse is so strange and unforgivable.”

“But you have a hunch as to why,” Piccolo added.

Zarbon smiled wryly. “Yes, I think I may.”

“Please stand aside, sir,” the Arlian guard said, producing a key ring. In a few moments he had the lock open and slid the heavy stone door out of the way. The guard produced a small remote keypad, punched in a code, and the air suddenly seemed less heavy. Zarbon noticed Piccolo scowl a little.

“He disarmed the laser bars on the inside,” he explained, and Piccolo nodded.

“Please use this to let us know when you are finished,” the guard said, handing Piccolo and Zarbon a small communicator each.

“We will,” Zarbon said with a nod, stepping past the guard into the room. “Thank you.” He watched as Piccolo stepped inside and the guard shut the door. There was a short beeping and a whoosh of air, and lasers were barely visible as motes of dust floated in their path. “If Nappa touches those things he’s going to get very badly burned,” Zarbon explained to the Namekian. “Those same sort of bars were used to imprison Vegeta and me when we were first on this planet. They operate on the same principles as the ki-piercing weaponry the Arlians have developed.” Piccolo nodded and Zarbon smiled, trying not to feel proud of taking over the planet anyway and failing miserably at his goal. “This way,” he continued, and stepped into another room.

The chamber they entered was lit by candlelight and no technology was apparent. Nappa was a dark shadow hunched against the wall, sitting on what appeared to be a cot. There was also a stone table and a few wire chairs, and it was on the table that the candles sat, wax spilling on the the surface. The remains of a meal were also on the table, the platters licked clean save for the bones of whatever meat had been included in the meals. So, they were at least feeding Nappa well. He should have known that even Vegeta was not cruel enough to deprive a Saiyan of food. “Piccolo, meet Nappa, former commanding officer of the New Saiyan Empire Armed Forces. Nappa, this is Piccolo, an esteemed fighter from Earth’s forces. You’ve never had the pleasure of meeting Piccolo’s charming little protege, Gohan, so I will just tell you that Piccolo has done your race justice and trained Gohan well.”

“Who the hell’s Gohan?” the big Saiyan growled.

Zarbon smiled coldly, his golden eyes glittering cruelly in the candlelight. “Why, Gohan is Radditz’s nephew. Can’t your puny brain retain any of the information we relayed to you after our stay on planet Earth?” he sneered. He heard Piccolo snort and retreat to the shadows near the door, the whiteness of his cape and turban the only things giving away his position. It was just as well that Piccolo was taking to the darkness, he figured. Nappa was going to be difficult to speak to without any sort of distractions.

“What are you doing here, you traitorous freak,” Nappa spat.

Zarbon felt his veins turn to ice. Raising an eyebrow, he turned the full force of his chill stare on the massive Saiyan. “Me, traitorous? What about your own recent actions, eh? Tell me, Nappa, what were you trying to do?” he said calmly.

“I didn’t do anything,” Nappa growled, his eyes staring at the dusty stone floor.

“That’s sort of the point,” Zarbon commented, rubbing his nose. The room smelled moldy, and he doubted this cellar had been used in decades. “I’ve come to find out why.”

“I’m not going to tell you anything, you filthy green animal.”

Zarbon chuckled, the sound dry and without warmth. “Watch your mouth, mammal. Right now you are outnumbered by green men. Not that you would be a problem for either of us on our own.”

“Shut up,” Nappa snarled.

Zarbon felt his patience flow away in an angry torrent. He raised his fist and brought it down on the table, nearly cracking the stone. “Enough!” Zarbon shouted, taking a few steps toward the bald Saiyan. “You will tell me what I want to know or you will regret it!” Nappa looked away and remained silent. Zarbon focused on keeping his his head, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly through his nose. “Now, Nappa, will you please explain to me how Dodoria’s troops managed to figure out exactly where our radar stations were and how they worked?”

“I don’t know.”

Zarbon approached Nappa more closely. “Are you sure?” he said, voice so low it was nearly a whisper.

“Yes.”

Suddenly Zarbon whipped out a hand and grabbed the Saiyan by the throat, feeling the cartilage of the trachea flex beneath his fingers. “Absolutely sure?”

Nappa’s mouth moved soundlessly, his dark, dull eyes widening in panic. He croaked, unable to form a coherent reply.

“I couldn’t hear you,” Zarbon said sweetly, releasing Nappa’s neck. The Saiyan gasped and doubled over, breath coming in ragged spurts.

“I won’t let you betray Vegeta,” he wheezed.

Rage exploded in Zarbon’s brain and he backhanded Nappa, catching the Saiyan off-guard and nearly snapping his neck. Nappa tumbled from the bed to the stone floor and coughed, picking himself up slowly. “Don’t you see that betraying Vegeta is exactly what you’ve done?” Zarbon hissed. “You nearly let Dodoria overrun his seat of government!”

Nappa’s eyes narrowed to slits in his meaty face. “I won’t let you turn Vegeta in to Freeza!” he snarled. “You can’t have him!”

Zarbon’s anger was momentarily shattered by Nappa’s complete and total lack of comprehension. “What? Are you out of your mind?” Zarbon shrieked. “If I turn Vegeta in to Freeza, I’m dead as well! Why in the world would I do something like that?”

Nappa continued to glare at Zarbon. “Dodoria said you would. He said if I let him in he’d free Vegeta from your influence. He almost got you, too.”

Zarbon feared that madness had him in its clutches, he was driven to such heights of fury by the Saiyan’s words. “And you TRUSTED him?” he shouted. “You’ve lived with Freeza and his troops for decades! You’ve seen what Dodoria’s like, what Freeza’s empire is like! And you still trusted him?”

“Vegeta trusts you, yet you do not call him a fool,” Nappa sneered.

“That’s because Vegeta can trust me! I have nothing to gain by bringing him harm. Only by ensuring his success can I guarantee my own safety and life. The situations are entirely different!”

“You’ve made Vegeta weak. You let him bring back that Earth bitch. You let him bond with her. Now Freeza can hurt him worse than any way you and I could ever think of,” Nappa said, voice low.

“I had nothing to do with any of that. I fought that tooth and nail.”

“You just want him dead so you can take his power for himself. Then you can finally see all of us Saiyans dead.”

“Are you insane?” Zarbon screeched, almost driven to the point of lunacy. What he was hearing made no sense at all, no matter how he tried to look at it, and he gave up any pretense he still held of remaining calm.

“I should kill you now, while you’re here,” Nappa said, and Zarbon could actually see the hatred burning in those dark eyes. “I can save myself a lot of trouble and risk that way.”

Zarbon threw his head back to laugh at the idea, but suddenly Nappa was in his face, striking at him. Zarbon dodged the punches easily, moving his head a fraction of an inch this way and that as Nappa’s fists flew past him. He sank below Nappa’s center of gravity and executed a flawless leg-sweep, toppling the large man. The Saiyan was deceptively quick, however, and managed to right himself before hitting the ground, kicking out at Zarbon as he moved out of the way. Zarbon took the strike in the thigh, flexing his muscle to keep the bone from breaking. He jumped towards the Saiyan and Nappa’s eyes opened wide enough that he could see his reflection in them. He landed a punch squarely on Nappa’s blocky nose, feeling bone crunch beneath his fist. Nappa groaned and fell backward, striking his head on the wall. Zarbon pounced on him like a cat, channeling ki to his fist and ready to deliver a death blow, when he felt arms snake under his armpits and behind his head, effectively stopping his movements. “What in the hell is going on?” Zarbon yelled, trying to twist around.

“Calm yourself,” the Namekian’s rough voice growled. “Killing him won’t get you any more answers. I thought you knew that.”

Zarbon felt the anger leak out of him as quickly as it had come and he relaxed. “You’re right. I apologize. I haven’t been myself today,” he muttered.

Piccolo released Zarbon and took a few steps back. “I think it’s fairly obvious what happened with the attacks,” he said.

Zarbon rubbed his thigh and nodded. Nappa was clearly insane, dealing with the devil to save Vegeta from imagined danger. It was sort of ironic, in a sick sort of way, he thought, that in trying to protect Vegeta from a danger that did not exist Nappa was actually creating far greater peril for his prince. “We should get back to Goku and Radditz and let them know what’s going on,” he said with a sigh, looking down at Nappa’s unconscious body.”

“I notice you didn’t list Vegeta,” Piccolo remarked.

Zarbon felt a strange, crackling pain spread through his chest. “No, I didn’t. I don’t know if he will ever listen to me again,” he said, nearly choking on the words. “Once more, I apologize. I haven’t been myself lately.”

Piccolo narrowed his eyes for a moment, then snorted. “Whatever. I trust you can still do your job,” he replied.

“Absolutely. I have no doubt where my duties lie.”

“Good. Let’s get back to the others,” Piccolo mumbled.

Zarbon nodded and pulled out the communicator the guard had given him. “We’re ready,” he said, and settled in to wait for the door to be opened.

---

Radditz and Goku looked up from their game of cards with the same expression of surprise on their faces as Bulma entered the room, Zarbon in tow. “There’s something you guys should know,” she said sternly.

Radditz put down his cards and stood, ushering them to chairs. Bulma smiled up at him as he seated her, wondering for the millionth time if she should have married him instead of Vegeta. He smiled back, the expression a little pained, just as it always was, and took his own seat. He and Goku leaned toward her across the table, looking so alike for a moment that it nearly took her completely off guard. It was so easy to forget that they were brothers. Radditz was intelligent and passionate, where Goku was often oblivious and overly sweet, although he was the better fighter by far. She found herself wondering if she could talk Goku into pounding the living daylights out of Vegeta. She was pretty sure that her childhood friend would be a fairly good match for her husband.

“What is it, Bulma?” Radditz asked, putting a hand on hers.

She glanced at Zarbon, who looked like he had been run over by a truck, if they had had trucks on Arlia. His hair was unkempt, which was usually an unforgivable offense in Zarbon’s book, and his face was drawn and anxious. What Vegeta had said the night before was still gnawing at him, and it hurt her to see it. Vegeta’s behavior of that morning also wounded her. She couldn’t believe he was being so cruel to Zarbon, who had never done anything but look after the Prince’s interests. His cruelty to her was almost more bearable in a way, since she really hadn’t done anything for Vegeta. She gave up her life on Earth and made a few gadgets for him, but she certainly hadn’t given over her entire existence to him the way that Zarbon had. Even as his wife she was still looking out for herself, and therefore didn’t expect Vegeta to really give her anything. But ever since she had known him, even back when she was still terrified of him, Zarbon had bent over backwards for Vegeta, and she thought that his loyalty should be rewarded. Instead Vegeta seemed to be punishing Zarbon for his love. At least to her he was just an asshole, but he was actually going out of his way to be horrible to Zarbon. That he was capable of such cruelty wounded her deeply, and her love for him began to waver. Not that it had ever been that solid to begin with. If it wasn’t for his bizarre charisma, she would never have loved him at all.

“Bulma?” Goku prompted, and she realized just how badly her mind had been wandering.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Zarbon took a little trip to Nappa after our disastrous meeting, and I thought you all would like to know what happened.”

“So that’ s where you went,” Radditz breathed. “I figured it was something important.”

“Very important,” Zarbon said with a sigh. “I think Nappa helped Dodoria orchestrate the whole thing.”

“What?” Radditz gasped, standing up so violently that he turned over his chair and nearly sent the table crashing to the ground as well.

“How?” Goku asked, eying his brother’s reaction.

“He sees me as a threat, I guess,” Zarbon replied, fingering his tangled braid. “He thought I was going to turn Vegeta in to Freeza, so he told Dodoria how to get close to us in the hopes that big pink bastard would kill me.”

“He trusted Dodoria?” Radditz gulped, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Who’s Dodoria?” Goku asked, looking around with a blank expression.

Radditz made a gurgling noise and almost fell over. “He’s the fat pink thing that Zarbon killed, remember?”

“The thing with the spines?”

“What other big pink monster did you see?” Radditz snapped.

“Sorry,” Goku said, eyes large and apologetic.

“Anyway,” Bulma interrupted angrily. “Go on please, Zarbon.”

“Uh, right,” Zarbon said, eying the two brothers warily. “Anyway, I think Nappa’s lost his mind. I really, honestly do. But that explains how they managed to get so close before we noticed them. They had help from our side.”

“We can’t let that happen again,” Radditz snarled. “That fool could be the end of us all!”

“I know that,” Zarbon sighed. “But he’s locked up now, and I don’t see much else that we can do.”

“Wait a minute,” Goku said, innocent face screwed up in a frown. “If this Dodoria guy was with Freeza, and Nappa was here, how did they make up their plan?”

Bulma felt the blood drain from her face and glanced at Zarbon and Radditz. They, too, had gone unnaturally pale. “How did they manage to communicate?” she whispered.

Zarbon scowled. “I’m not sure. I guess Nappa could have used one of the communication stations to tune into Freeza’s frequency and spoken with him that way. As the Commander, Nappa would have had all the facilities at his disposal.”

Radditz also glowered. “We can call up records of all the transmissions made recently and see if any of them match Freeza’s frequencies,” he suggested.

“But how would he know what frequency Dodoria was using?” Goku asked, his hand behind his head.

“All of Freeza’s soldiers are forced to memorize the frequencies, as well as transmission codes,” Radditz explained calmly. “Even someone like you or Nappa could remember them.”

“Oh,” Goku replied, and fell silent.

“Running those frequency report queries will take longer than we have, especially if the Emperor wants us to leave tomorrow,” Zarbon said.

Bulma noticed that he didn’t use Vegeta’s name. She was suddenly even more afraid than before that things would go badly with Freeza. “I can take care of that, no problem. Besides, it will be my responsibility anyway, if I have to babysit the Empire while you’re all away.”

“Very well,” Zarbon said with a nod.

“One more thing,” she continued. “Zarbon, Radditz, what exactly should I be doing while you’re away?”

“Why don’t you ask his highness?” Zarbon said, a slight sneer in his voice.

Radditz scowled. “Unfair, Zarbon,” he cautioned.

Zarbon sighed. “Sorry.”

Bulma took a deep breath and shook her head. “No, Zarbon, it was an honest question. The reason I want to hear from you two is because you actually know the running of an empire. Vegeta knows what he’s supposed to do, but only you two know the different parts of the Empire so intimately.”

Zarbon tapped his cheek with a finger, propping up his chin with his other hand. “Well,” he said heavily, “You will need to set up some sort of evacuation plan. You’ll also need to ready the defenses, make sure everything works, et cetera. Atlia can do most of the administrative business. You don’t need to trouble yourself with audiences like Vegeta has.”

“As for the army, just have conferences with Atlia and Pikuhan,” Radditz offered. “They can help you come up with any sort of offense plan you’ll need. The technology, though, is all up to you. Hopefully you’ll have a little time to prepare, though. It will take a bit for Freeza to hear what has happened to his troops, and longer still to send more here.”

“What do I do?” Goku chirped.

Radditz sank down into his chair and sighed, covering his eyes with a hand. “You’re coming with us, Goku. Did you forget? We’re going to fight Freeza and Bulma’s staying here.”

Goku’s face fell. “Oh. Sorry.”
Bulma laughed nervously. “No, that’s okay, Goku. I know you just got excited.”

A strange, serious look passed across Goku’s normally bland features, the same look that usually made Bulma wonder if the whole idiocy thing was just an act. “I think that you should send for Yamcha, Krillin, and the others as soon as you can. You’re going to need all the fighters you can get.”

All heads turned towards Goku, three jaws dropping simultaneously. “That’s a splendid idea,” Zarbon said,

“Good job, Goku,” Bulma breathed. She had never expected him to actually come up with a good plan ahead of time. He was a fighting genius, she would grant him that, but his talents usually lay in on-the-spot decisions, not protracted planning.

“It is a good plan,” Radditz agreed. “Those others will be able to help you immensely.”

“Well, then, it’s settled,” Bulma said, rising to her feet. “I. . .I can’t believe that you’re all leaving tomorrow.”

“Aw, we’ll be back!” Goku said.

Radditz stood as well, putting a heavy, warm hand on her shoulder, his dark eyes shining down into hers. “Everything will be fine,” he murmured gently. He removed his hand and straightened. “Zarbon, why don’t you and I show her who she needs to deal with and what she should be worrying about while we’re gone?”

“What about me?” Goku whined, also standing and shifting from one foot to the other.

“Go find Piccolo and Gohan and squeeze in some extra training,” Bulma said. “I think Vegeta’s going to want to train with you on the ship. I’m sending you off in the finest vessel yet.”

Bulma watched Goku dash off with a smile and a wave. If only things were that simple for everyone, she found herself wishing. Two strong arms, one on either side of her, looped through her arms and began guiding her to the door.

“It’s time we got going,” Radditz said with a tight smile.

“You have a lot to see,” Zarbon added.

“You’re right. It will be nightfall before we know it, and I have some business of my own to take care of then.” She squeezed the arms that were looped through hers and smiled, thinking how lucky she was to have such loyal, if problematic, friends in her life.

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59 / Bulma’s Hideout / 61