Chapter 10

Zarbon smiled down at Vegeta as he watched the Prince sit up slowly. “You’ll be all better soon, eh?” he said with a laugh.

“Of course. And then I’ll destroy you,” Vegeta said coldly, glaring at the green-haired alien.

“Yes, well...we’ll see, won’t we?” Zarbon said nonchalantly, striding out of the cell door, accompanied by several guards.

“He’s too confident,” Vegeta whispered to himself with a small smile. He watched as one of the guards sealed the door and moved on down the hall, out of hearing range. Vegeta stood slowly and wandered over to the bars, careful not to jostle any of his healing wounds.

“You’ll have to fight him soon,” a voice rasped from across the hall.

“Ah, Atlia, I should have expected you to be eavesdropping,” Vegeta said, the smile not leaving his face as one of his eyebrows raised. He folded his arms over his chest carefully and glared at the red eyes across the way. The eyes blinked and began to turn away, but Vegeta bared his teeth and readied himself to speak. “You were the rebel leader?” he blurted, smiling again as the Arlian turned around to face him.

“Yes,” Atlia replied. “What of it?”

“How would you like to be regent of this planet?” Vegeta asked smoothly, pretending to examine his fingernails.

“Regent? But what about the elites?” Atlia asked, voice lowering itself in order to not be overheard.

“Yes. You could be in charge of this planet and have your precious Lemlia back. How does that sound to you?” Vegeta asked nonchalantly, still pretending to halfway ignore Atlia.

“It sounds too good to be true,” Atlia said softly. “What’s the catch?”

“Not as large as you’d think,” Vegeta admitted, stealing a sidelong glance at the bug-man.

“And how do you propose to throw over the entire government?” Atlia asked coldly. “They’d just shoot you down.”

“Never underestimate the crafty strength of the Saiyans,” Vegeta hissed back. “Now this is what I have in mind...”

---

Mrs. Briefs stole a glance at the bedridden man as he watched the television, face as expressionless as stone as the people on the screen giggled away. His dark eyes were aimed directly at the machine, but she could tell by their foggy sheen that he wasn’t watching the action of the show. Sighing, she wondered what sort of sad fate had brought him to her. She didn’t understand much about him, although she knew he was from the same alien race as Goku, but that was no help since the two were as different as night and day. She supposed that was how siblings sometimes worked. It still seemed tragic to her, though, that a once-proud warrior could be condemned to stay in a hospital bed against his will and accompanied by an old woman with nothing better to do. A small scowl flitted across her brow as she watched him breathe painfully, knowing that he was much weaker than he actually let on. She could tell, using her sixth maternal sense, that although her husband and his doctors pronounced the young man to be improving greatly, he was barely able to sustain consciousness for long and reliant upon the hospital bed’s capability to hold his torso upright. Mrs. Briefs knew it would be a while before he could stand on his own, and felt her heart constrict as she thought how difficult it must be for one accustomed to being so powerful to be so weak and helpless. She watched his eyelids flutter, although not from sleep, and his chin sank slowly to his chest in an odd imitation of a gesture of defeat. “What’s wrong, Radditz?” she asked softly.

“Nothing,” he snarled, casting a sidelong glance at her hand that had come to rest on the rail of the bed.

Mrs. Briefs shook her head. “Say you don’t feel like talking about it, not that nothing’s wrong. I’ve been a mother for too long to be fooled by that.”

Radditz’s eyes opened a little wider in curiosity. “I don’t feel like talking about it,” he replied.

Mrs. Briefs smiled. “Didn’t you know that mothers sometimes have a special sense about how their children are feeling?” she asked brightly.

She now had Radditz’s full attention, and his eyes fastened themselves onto her. “But you’re not my mother,” he said with confusion. “And I didn’t think you humans had telepathic abilities like we do.”

Mrs. Briefs made a mental note of the telepathic abilities part. “We don’t have those sorts of abilities, but one of the wonderful things about us is that we can observe each other and use our emotions and reasoning to understand one another. That’s what life is really about- understanding each other, ourselves, and the world around us. I don’t have to be your real mother. You’ve already been here long enough to feel like a sort of son.”

“Son?” Radditz asked quizzically, eyebrow raised. “If my mother were alive, she’d kill you for saying that.”

“What happened to your mother? Was she Goku’s mother as well?” she asked, glad he was playing right into her hands. She had hoped all along that he would reveal more about himself, but had so far thwarted all of her previous attempts.

“She died with the planet. I’m fairly certain she was Kakarott’s mother as well, but it’s hard to be sure. Saiyans don’t often take lifemates, which seems to be a common practice here.”

“Very common, yes, although it often doesn’t end up being for life,” she replied. “I’m one of the lucky ones who found someone they could love and be loved by for the rest of my life.”

“See, that’s where you humans make your mistake,” Radditz sneered. “Luck and love are for weaklings. You must be the master of your own destiny, and love has no place in a warrior’s life. It allows you to be defeated outside of battles, and those you love can be used against you.”

Mrs. Briefs licked her lips in anticipation. He was acting perfectly, just like he really was her son that had lived with her all her life. “Then you don’t feel love?” she asked quietly.

“Of course not,” Radditz replied with a little snort.

Mrs. Briefs leaned back in her char and crossed her legs, looking at him levelly with blue eyes. “Then you would be perfectly fine if this Prince Vegeta of yours came to get you and then destroyed the planet, killing my daughter with it?” she said.

Radditz went completely still. “That’s not something I will ever have to worry about. Prince Vegeta is surely dead,” he said softly, and his eyes flickered in such a way that she knew she had found the subject over which he had been brooding.

“You don’t believe in love, and yet you’re hurt that your prince might be dead. Is that part of making your own destiny?” she replied gently, curious but not wanting to wound him further.

“My destiny is to serve the Prince,” he stated gruffly.

She could see she was almost at the limit. He was far more patient with her than anyone else, but that didn’t mean she could push her luck. “But if this Vegeta fellow is dead, what then?”

Suddenly Radditz’s eyes widened, the light finally returning to their black depths. “Then, because of Kakarott’s death as well, I would be the last of the Saiyans,” he said softly.

Mrs. Briefs sighed, thankful that he had given her an opportunity to change the subject. He was becoming a little too intense, and she had no intention of making him angry. Weak as he was, she was sure he could still find some way to kill her if he so wished. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll just wish Goku back when he’s done training. You won’t be the last of the Saiyans, thanks to the dragonballs.”

Radditz sighed in relief, but for some reason the sound did not reassure her. “Thank goodness for the dragonballs,” he whispered. “They will make everything right again.”

---

Vegeta awoke, fully healed at last, and peered around the cell. Zarbon had gone out to another match, the match that would determine who fought him, the champion, next. A smile wound its way across his lips and he jumped down from the stone cot. Soon everything would be in place, he thought as he walked over to the cell bars. “So,” he called out across the hall. “Have you decided to agree to my terms?”

He waited as he heard the creaking of exoskeleton across the hall, satisfied as the red eyes appeared out of the darkness. “I have,” Atlia replied, stepping into the light. “I’m your man, now and forever, if you can return my Lemlia to me.”

Vegeta nodded in satisfaction. Giving the Arlian a few days to think about it had been the right decision. “You’ll certainly get your mate back,” he assured him. “You’re a very just man, and I promise you’re acting in the best interests of your entire race.”

“I know how powerful you are, Vegeta,” Atlia said, just a hint of resentment in his raspy voice.

Vegeta shook his head. “That’s true, but it’s not the point I was trying to make. I can protect you just as well as I could destroy you,” he began, but cut short as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He stepped to the side and watched as Zarbon was escorted into the cell and left behind by the guards.

Zarbon looked Vegeta up and down, wiping some blood from a small cut on his cheek. “You look well,” he commented. “Can I assume that you’re healed, and will be ready to battle tomorrow?”

“You can assume whatever you like, Zarbon,” Vegeta snapped. “The fact remains is that I will beat you into the very foundation of this planet.”

Zarbon raised a hand, waving it slowly as he turned his face to the side. “You’ll never give up, will you? You still hate me even after all the time we’ve been stuck together,” he wondered.

“I will hate you until the day I die,” Vegeta said coldly, regaining his composure. “You helped destroy Vejiitasei.”

Zarbon looked at him in surprise, golden eyes wide. “What?”

Vegeta scowled murderously. “You were Freeza’s man. You helped him kill my people.”

Zarbon shook his head, wishing he dared to put a reassuring hand on the Saiyan’s shoulder. Despite himself, he had kind of grown to like Vegeta in the time they’d been stranded together. Sure, the prince had a horrible temper, was conniving, nasty, and just basically arrogant and rude, but he was incredibly strong, passionate, and clever. Which was why Freeza alternately wanted him destroyed and kept alive, Zarbon supposed. “Vegeta, I am a trained soldier, and as such was not in the position to argue with Lord Freeza. However, although I am a soldier, I have never agreed with total annihilation, even though the Saiyans were a danger to the Empire. I will do what is necessary, but that doesn’t mean I like it. I didn’t approve of the plan to destroy your people, and I thought it was incredibly stupid of Freeza to provoke them in the first place, so that they attacked and he had to destroy them, and then leave you three alive to exact revenge! Therefore I never once aided him in destroying your people.”

“You are a good soldier, Zarbon, though I hate to admit it,” Vegeta said with a snarl, crossing his arms and looking at the floor. “Which makes it a pity I’ll have to kill you tomorrow, I’m almost certain of it.”

Zarbon shook his head, about to protest that he would be the winner, until the peculiarity of Vegeta’s statement struck him. “Eh? Almost certain?” he wondered.

Vegeta turned around and waved a hand of dismissal, forcing Zarbon to look at his back and swishing tail as he walked to his bunk. “It all depends on the choices you make, Zarbon,” Vegeta replied. “We make our own destinies.”

They were brought roughly out of their cells and paraded up to the arena, Vegeta giving Atlia a meaningful glance as he was shoved past the Arlian’s cell with his hands twisted behind his back and his tail curled around his waist protectively. Zarbon watched out of the corner of his eye as the Saiyan couldn’t resist struggling, twisting occasionally just to give the guards a difficult time. Soon they stood in the light of the arena, for although the sky was overcast, the sunlight lit up the entire place brightly. Zarbon and Vegeta were released, stumbling out onto the sand gracelessly. Vegeta walked slowly to the opposite end of the field before turning around to glare at Zarbon, hands on his hips. Zarbon swallowed, wondering how on earth he was going to handle the situation. He was fairly certain he could beat the Saiyan, but if he did Vegeta would demand that he be killed. Damn Saiyan pride. Zarbon gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw, cursing again his horrible fortune. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. Either way, he was a dead man with no options. A bitter smile bloomed across his perfect features as he stared at Vegeta, the instrument of his doom. Vegeta was still standing there, looking incredibly regal even though his dark blue bodysuit no longer had sleeves and was torn in various places, showing the heavy musculature underneath. The armor the Saiyan had once worn had long since been destroyed, and the gloves and boots were also missing, which made Zarbon a little happier, since he would be spared the hard surface of boot soles making contact with his skin. He cast a glance at Vegeta’s bare feet and watched as the shapely toes dug into the sand, and suddenly he felt a wave of foreign emotion pass over him. The toes were so perfect and pink, and he remembered how young Vegeta really was, and how he had known him for almost the Saiyan’s entire life. Throughout their ordeal Zarbon hadn’t even realized until that moment how he had grown to feel like Vegeta was simply an irritable, but promising, younger brother. Zarbon sighed and copied Vegeta’s relaxed stance, wishing his revelations would wait until after the battle, for anything he felt towards Vegeta would just make everything just that much harder.

“I expect a real fight,” Vegeta called across the hot sand. “Don’t hold back. Remember, you could die either way.”

“You’ll get the fight of your life,” Zarbon shouted back, and the crowd cheered. He knew that he looked better than Vegeta, for the only tattered aspect of his appearance was his cloak. His armor was totally intact, and he even still possessed his jewelry. He was the one that looked like the prince. He studied Vegeta once again and noticed the dark circles underneath Vegeta’s eyes. The Saiyan still hadn’t slept, and it was not only likely to make him more vulnerable, but also add a desperate insanity to his fighting style. If Vegeta retained his strength as the desperation borne of sleep-deprivation took over him, Zarbon knew his was in a lot of trouble. “Feel free to lead off,” he added, and sank into a battle position.

Vegeta began to sink into a stance as well, but straightened suddenly and beckoned to one of the guards, who went over to him cautiously with weapon raised. Vegeta muttered something to the guard, who then retreated to the sidelines and passed on what was said. Another Arlian eventually stepped up on a raised platform used for making announcements and took a deep breath. “The reigning champion requests that the rules for this match be altered to permit both competitors to use energy attacks,” the Arlian shouted, and the acoustics of the arena were such that its voice was carried to every corner. All eyes turned to the Imperial box, where the king nodded his approval. “The request has been granted,” the Arlian cried. “Commence the battle!”

Zarbon stood a little straighter and looked at Vegeta quizzically. Don’t look so surprised, Zarbon, Vegeta’s voice said in Zarbon’s head. You know I want to beat you fair and square. Zarbon replied with a shrug, not taking his gaze off of Vegeta’s coal-black eyes. The Saiyan’s muscles tensed and he sprang towards Zarbon, who decided to counter with his own offense. The two collided with a flurry of blows, all of which were either blocked or dodged by each party. They zoomed apart with equal speed, and Zarbon knelt first, breathing hard with strain and nerves. Vegeta’s attack had been just as quick as his own, and his blocks and dodges were just as speedy and effortless. His golden eyes grew a little wider as he realized the legends were true; Saiyans really did get stronger with every fight. If the first encounter was any indication, Vegeta was at least as strong as himself. Zarbon’s mouth set in a thin line as he realized his chances had diminished even further.

“What? Done already?” Vegeta sneered from a few meters away. “I expected Freeza’s first officer to be better than that!”

“I am better than that!” Zarbon called back. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t waste too much effort on your worthless Saiyan carcass.”

“We’ll see,” Vegeta snarled, and came in again. Zarbon dodged his side kick with an arm, prepared to strike with his other arm, when Vegeta blurred from his sight. He felt the air behind him be displaced, and he turned just in time to block a blow to his neck that could have been fatal. Vegeta’s teeth were bared in rage, and he snarled as he moved around to Zarbon’s side. Zarbon anticipated the kidney punch, and as he moved his left arm down to block the strike he brought his right knee over and up, catching Vegeta underneath his arm as he lunged. The Saiyan grunted with the impact and spun away to avoid further pummeling, but Zarbon followed with an upward-sweeping kick. Vegeta’s eyes widened and he jumped, placing himself right underneath the clenched-together fists Zarbon was bringing down on him from above. The blow landed squarely between Vegeta’s shoulder blades and sent him to the ground. Zarbon began to disengage, but Vegeta sprang off of the ground from a push-up, flipping as he did it so the bottom of his heel connected with the underside of Zarbon’s jaw. Blood filled Zarbon’s mouth as his teeth punctured the inside of his cheek, and he did a backwards one-armed handspring to put him on his feet and in a defensive position.

“You’re better than I expected,” Zarbon admitted grudgingly as he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his pink arm sheath.

“And you haven’t gotten rusty. Too bad nothing will save you,” Vegeta said with a cruel smile. “Don’t underestimate me, Zarbon,” he cautioned. “We Saiyans are full of tricks.”

“Most of them underhanded,” Zarbon spat as he flung himself at Vegeta. The Saiyan wasn’t expecting the attack, and he was able to land a good solid punch on Vegeta’s midsection. Vegeta went flying backwards and landed on one foot, his face a mask of rage. Suddenly he blurred, and Zarbon once felt the air behind him move, but when he turned Vegeta wasn’t there. Strong arms wrapped themselves underneath his armpits and behind his head, and suddenly something furry wrapped around his throat. Zarbon’s eyes widened in surprise as he realized the Saiyan was actually using his tail as a weapon, something he had often seen Saiyans die to avoid. Zarbon gasped as the pressure on his windpipe increased, but he couldn’t break his arms free of Vegeta’s surprisingly strong grasp. He barked a laugh with the last remains of oxygen in his lungs, and brought his head back into Vegeta’s face. The Saiyan sputtered and stumbled backwards, his tail unwrapping itself from Zarbon’s throat. Zarbon spun immediately and landed a spin kick on the side of Vegeta’s head, knocking him down. Vegeta landed with a grunt in the sand and Zarbon followed his motion with a kick, plunging his foot into Vegeta’s midsection. Vegeta coughed up blood, spattering Zarbon’s boot, and Zarbon looked down with a satisfied smile. Suddenly black eyes met his and a cold smile settled on Vegeta’s face as well. His hands wrapped around Zarbon’s ankle and pulled, bringing Zarbon clumsily to the sand. Zarbon twisted and sent a fist towards Vegeta, but the Saiyan moved out of the way and kicked Zarbon in the lower back in one swift, clean movement. Zarbon pitched forward and coughed as sand was sucked into his mouth. A knee drove itself into his back, and he arched up with a cry. He snapped his back to bend the other way, catapulting Vegeta upward, but when he tried to stand he was rewarded with a vicious punch to the face. He staggered back for a few feet before regaining his balance.

“You’ll have to do better than that to defeat me,” Vegeta hissed with a cruel smile.

Zarbon shook his head as he once again wiped his mouth and nose. Vegeta’s forehead was bleeding, the blood running down into his eyes. “Okay, I will,” Zarbon said, and gathered his strength. He felt something inside his brain click, and he released an internal switch, smiling with pleasure as the transformation took him over. His skin stretched painfully for a fraction of a second as his muscles increased in size and his facial features rearranged himself. “You poor mammal,” Zarbon said as he looked at Vegeta’s shocked face. “What you saw before was only the beauty. Now I introduce you to the beast.”

“And you’ve called me ugly in the past,” Vegeta said with a laugh as he regained his composure. Zarbon rushed in as Vegeta began to glow, summoning energy rapidly. Just as Zarbon was about to close in upon him he released a bright beam of purple light, catching Zarbon’s new lizard-like form right in the face. Zarbon yelped, managing to deflect most of it by bringing his clawed hands up in front of his face. Vegeta smiled and took to the air, gathering energy for another strike as the crowed gasped and cheered. Zarbon snarled and rocketed into the sky as Vegeta released a yellow sphere.

“Too weak!” Zarbon cackled, and sent a thin beam of blue forward that pierced the sphere and headed right for Vegeta’s face. Vegeta dodged, but the beam took him in the shoulder, spraying blood through the air. Vegeta snarled in rage and released a barrage of ki balls, watching as Zarbon looped between them and managed to dodge. He let loose another barrage, and this time some of them struck Zarbon’s saurian form, making him cry out as they burned. Vegeta dove towards the ground, feeling the sand being sucked up against his belly by the air currents he was creating as he zoomed across the ground, coming up underneath Zarbon and sinking both his heels into the other warrior’s back just below the waist of his armor. Zarbon growled and swung around, catching Vegeta in his wounded shoulder with a clawed hand. Vegeta shrieked as the long nails dug into his muscle and twisted. Zarbon’s saurian face broadened in an evil smile and twisted harder. Vegeta felt his vision go red from the pain, but he found the strength to gather energy and released it in all directions, hearing Zarbon scream through the blood rushing in his ears.

They both landed with a thud, the sand sticking to their bloody wounds. Zarbon was too strong for him in his saurian form, and he had pulled some very nice tricks. Vegeta hated to admit it, but Zarbon was a seasoned warrior with finesse and amazing strength. Perhaps if they both lived through what he was about to do next he would ask the other alien to train him a little. He gathered a little energy and created a small white ball of light in his right hand, beginning to laugh maniacally. “Survive this, Zarbon!” he cried, his comment an encouragement rather than a taunt. “You’re not the only one who can transform!” With that he cast the ball up into the air, closing his fist as the ball reached the desired height and uncurling his tail from around his waist.

Zarbon watched Vegeta in horror as he saw the tail straighten out. There was no moon on Arlia, so what was he thinking? Suddenly it struck him what the ball of light must be, and he screamed in horror. “Vegeta, your body can’t take the transformation! You’re too tired and wounded to boot!!!” He rushed towards Vegeta, but it was too late. Hair had sprouted all over the Saiyan’s body, and Zarbon could hear Vegeta’s heart rate thunder as his teeth became fangs and he grew in height. Suddenly the oozaru erupted into being, and Zarbon stumbled backwards amidst the startled screams of the Arlian elite.

“Die, all of you!” Vegeta’s voice boomed, transformed as well into a sound that shook the very foundations of the arena. “Atlia! It’s time!”

Zarbon whirled around, rising into the air in confusion. “What in the hell are you doing, Vegeta? You’re going to get us killed!”

“Do you know how many times you’ve said that to me?” Vegeta snapped. “Now get the hell out of my way or I’ll be forced to destroy you!”

Zarbon’s mouth fell open and he floated to the side, watching in wonder as the Arlian guards filled Vegeta’s giant ape body full of ki-piercing lasers. The weapons seemed to have about as much effect as gnat bites, for the Saiyan was so incredibly huge that the weapons drew a little blood and nothing more. Still, with enough little wounds, the giant monkey could still bleed to death. Suddenly more Arlians spilled out from the arena’s gates, apparently coming from the direction of the dungeons, and began attacking the guards shooting at Vegeta. He saw then that Vegeta was killing the Arlians in the stands left and right, smashing them with his giant fists. They were screaming and trying to get away, but they crowd was so frantic and chaotic in their panic that they effectively pinned themselves in one spot. Vegeta began to smash them against the stone seats, and the bleachers began to ooze with the substance that served for Arlian blood. Zarbon began to take out some of the more dangerous-looking weapons with ki blasts, noticing that the Arlians from the dungeons had entered the stands opposite Vegeta and were also slaughtering the elites. It seemed hell had erupted in the stadium, and Vegeta was roaring like the devil himself, ending lives as easily as he breathed. “Spread out into the cities and kill the remaining elites!” Vegeta ordered no one in particular. “Make sure everyone else is cared for!”

“What in the hell are you doing, Vegeta?” Zarbon screamed, moving to hover in Vegeta’s giant monkey face. “Have you gone mad?”

“Shut up, Zarbon,” Vegeta snarled, red eyes casting about for any surviving elites. The action was starting to die down already, with all the elites slaughtered except for those in the royal box. A deep laugh escaped from his lungs as a gigantic fists reached forward and grasped the box’s inhabitants. “So you’re the emperor,” Vegeta said, amused, as he held an Arlian with a red cloak in his hand.

“Please don’t hurt me,” the Arlian screamed, falling to his knees.

“Take off the cloak,” Vegeta ordered, and the Arlian did so with shaking hands. “Zarbon, come fetch it,” he bellowed, and Zarbon, without thinking, quickly darted in and snatched the cloak before taking to the air by Vegeta’s ear. Vegeta smiled, showing his long, sharp teeth, and closed his hand over the emperor, squeezing the life and juices out of him onto the sand below. The crowd assembled at Vegeta’s feet cheered, and Vegeta very solemnly looked at the figure in his opposite hand. It was a female, clad in delicate pink gauze. Vegeta scanned the crowd below him and gestured with a hand that the Arlian rebels make room. With a surprisingly gentle motion, he set the female down on the ground.

“Lemlia!” a voice screeched, and Atlia burst from the crowd, wrapping his segmented arms around the female as she uttered a cry and crushed herself to him.

Zarbon stared at Vegeta, dumbfounded. “Destroy the orb of light, Zarbon,” Vegeta said, and Zarbon was so stupefied that he obeyed. He sent a beam sailing at the false moon and destroyed it in a flash of light, little sparks falling to the ground like the remnants of fireworks. Vegeta let out a great sigh and the hair on his body began to disappear, his bodysuit shrinking with him as he returned to his previous size. The laser wounds on his body were bleeding furiously, and the circles under his eyes only looked darker. “Hand me the cloak,” he snapped, and Zarbon was torn for a moment between fetching the cloak and rushing to support the Prince. “The cloak, dammit!” Vegeta shouted, and Zarbon quickly handed it to him, helping him to fasten the thick, rich fabric around his shoulders. Vegeta levitated over to the announcer’s stand and surveyed the crowd gathered at his feet.

“I have defeated your ruling class and proclaim myself the new emperor of this planet. Any who object shall be put to death quickly and without suffering. I also name the Arlian called Atlia as the regent of this planet in my absence. Under my rule, your rights and obligations will not change much so long as you are obedient and serve my purposes. If you obey me, I will compensate you by protecting you from the ever-encroaching evil of Freeza’s empire. I am the only being in the universe who can make this guarantee, so understand it is in your best interests to join my empire. Who supports me?” Vegeta proclaimed, raising a bloodstained hand in victory. A joyful cry rose from the crowd at his feet, so thunderous that it seemed the very stone foundations of the arena shook. Zarbon looked around in shock. Vegeta raised his other hand and the crowd quickly became silent. “One last matter. Zarbon, step forward,” he ordered coolly.

“What is it?” Zarbon asked, taking the required step.

Vegeta looked down at him, black eyes flickering but betraying nothing. “I give you a choice. Renounce your loyalty to Freeza and swear fealty to me. If you do this you have no more reason to fear for your life as I know you have thus far. You are a valuable asset to the building of this empire, and I would like you to make this decision of your own free will. I don’t need to explain the consequences of either decision to you. So what shall it be?” he intoned.

Zarbon swallowed, knowing full well what Vegeta meant and utterly shocked at the offer. Swearing fealty to Vegeta would mean betraying Freeza, which would get him killed for sure. Or would it? Freeza’s orders were to keep Vegeta alive, after all, but still...if he didn’t side with the Saiyan? Zarbon’s amber eyes looked deep into Vegeta. If you choose to go, I will allow you ample time to escape both myself and Freeza, leaving you free to go elsewhere in the universe and start a new life, although you know that if you ever interfere I will kill you, Vegeta said calmly into his mind. Zarbon sighed. This was probably the most trust Vegeta had ever invested in anyone in his entire life. Suddenly Zarbon’s heart hurt, as if someone had twisted a knife. Who was he loyal to? Did he really have a reason to be so loyal to Freeza? Zarbon smiled down at the sand as he considered. Vegeta could become as horrible a tyrant as Freeza, but would he? Especially with himself present? Zarbon sighed and raised his eyes to Vegeta once again before kneeling deeply before where Vegeta stood.

“Yes, Lord Vegeta, I swear my life to your service. Whatever you ask of me I shall do,” Zarbon replied, head bowed.

---

9 / Bulma’s Hideout / 11