Chapter Text
Sitting at Vegeta’s usual table was a bald man, no taller than a child, and he was wearing a bright orange jacket with the Saiyan Royal Crest bedazzled on the back of it. “What are you doing here, Baldy?” Vegeta hissed, miffed at his seat being taken as he slid into the one next to it. Krillin’s face lit up at the young Saiyan’s arrival, “Vegeta! So you’re living here now too, huh? That’s neat.” “I was forced to leave the Woman behind. ‘Neat’ is not exactly how I would describe it.” The Prince scowled, I’ve got to do something about this food… But Scar Face needs a few days to simmer down before I start throwing my weight around…
Krillin sighed, picking at his meal, “Yeah, I heard about that. They left all the woman, even Eighteen… But that’s not why we’re here.” A man with platinum blond hair dyed with fading green and purple streaks in it and on the tip of his goatee seat down across from the Prince and his Escort, his voice almost monotone, “Selypa made me promise to not show you this until you decided for yourself what you were going to do.” Nail set a leather-bound portfolio in front of the Prince, it was a deep midnight blue in color with the Saiyan Royal Crest embossed and painted a bright crimson red on the front cover.
Reverently flipping through the thick parchment, Vegeta stared in awe at his Designer’s drawings. Some were ideas on how to incorporate chatterdees into Bulma’s costume but most were about the different aspects of Vegeta’s battle suit. From the designs before him, the Saiyan Prince gathered that it was royal blue, with reinforced arms and legs for protection and mobility, a pair of white gloves, and white, steel-toe boots with the tips painted gold. On the last page was a note, ‘I bet everything on you, my Prince.’
“These are stunning… Just like everything else she’s done.” Vegeta whispered softly, lightly tracing over the designs with his fingertips. The Namekian across the table spoke up, “She finished it. I managed to grab everything as I was leaving; her sketch book, your suit, and Bulma’s suit as well. We didn’t know how much fighting you’d allow your Mate to do, but Selypa made it just as battle-ready as yours.” “Me and Nail aren’t the best around but we’ll do our best to get you camera ready.” Krillin beamed, still unsure of all this. Sure, he’d heard bits and pieces of what Piccolo and the Designers were planning but never in his wildest dreams did he see himself aiding a rebel cause. But if this is what he had to do to get another shot with the beautiful Eighteen, Krillin would do whatever he had too.
Dressed in his royal blue spandex battle suit, over top rested his white chest plate with the red Royal Crest over his heart, Vegeta stood atop a round, glowing stage with dim lights behind him, a training bow in one hand and a gray stick in the other. Shenron’s rumbling baritone came over the speakers, “Okay, you won’t see the setting but we will. Now add a little wind.” Fans started blowing slowly, helping to cool the teen off under the hot lights. “Good. Now you’re going to start down on one knee, Vegeta. As you stand, you’re going to raise your flag above your head and deliver your line.” Shenron explained, adding, “The scene is: you’ve just stormed the outskirts of the Capital with your fellow warriors. Start whenever you want too.”
This is stupid… Vegeta scowled as he knelt. Shooting to his feet, the teen thrusted the imaginary flag into the air, stumbling over his words, “Citizens of Ee-arth! We fight, we dare, we…” After a moment, Shenron asked, “Do you even know your line?” “Of course I know it!” Vegeta snapped, grumbling to himself as he knelt again, “I don’t know why we have to shoot this inside instead of on an actual battlefield.” Vegeta focused on oozing power as he stood again, waving the stick above his head as he proclaimed, “Citizens of Ee-arth! We fight! We dare! To end this hunger for justice!”
Slow clapping sounded from the darkness beyond the stage lights before a face began to emerge from the void. Shaggy blond hair was trapped under a white and purple knitted hat, his typically scruffy beard was trimmed nicely, and his dark eyes were no longer bloodshot. “And that is how this Revolution dies before it even gets started.” Vegeta’s grip tightened on his props as he struggled to keep himself from throttling the Namekian, scowling at the man he once trusted.
Piccolo met those angry onyx eyes, chuckling, “”Is that really how you’re going to greet an old friend, boy?” The gray stick broke in Vegeta’s hand as he snarled, “I have no friends. None who are sober, anyway.” “Looks like I’ll have to change that…” The former Winner smirked, “But believe me, it looks as bad as it feels.”
The short clip was shown to a small handful of people in Paragus’s command center. Once it finished, Vegeta scowled as he crossed his arms, Why did I agree to this humiliation? Standing up, Piccolo turned to address the group that had just witnessed what was currently the biggest regret of Vegeta’s life, “May I?” Snapping to the President’s face, Vegeta glared at his puppet as he gave a barely noticeable nod. “Please.” Paragus relented, his hatred for the young Prince growing with each reminder that he had lost due to his own fear.
Walking up to the screen, Piccolo wiped off different battle plans and other things that the scarred Saiyan had deemed important, “I want everyone to think of one time that Vegeta truly moved you. And not just when Selypa had him gussied up or he’d managed to land a good shot. Think of a time he made you feel something real. Go.” “When he volunteered.” Krillin chirped up from his seat. “That’s a good one.” The Namekian nodded as he wrote it down on the screen, “What else?”
“When he gave the girl from Region 8 a quick death. And put Zarbon out of his misery.” Nappa added. “So when he showed mercy. Anyone else?” Piccolo wrote down everything he heard as they kept throwing words at him. “All the times he protected Bulma, even when he punched me.” Nail hummed thoughtfully.
Goku raised his hand, “When he climbed the tree with Bulma on his back. ‘Gete’s trapped his weapon between him and her so I felt like he trusted me enough to not try and kill him. And his last words in the Arena that he wanted me to say to Bulma.” With his notes on the screen, the blond Winner rested his hands on the table, “So what’s the common factor here?” “No one told him what to do.” Shenron sighed, understanding where he went wrong.
Clearing his throat, Bardock stated, “Wrong. At least partially. Prince Vegeta has been in battle long before he was in the Dragon Games, and as such, he’s learned to trust his instincts. His whole life has been leading up to this point with no direction from anyone else; all because of this one goal. Killing Freeza.” Two pairs of coal black eyes met as the older warrior continued, “If you let him do and say as he wants, my Prince will not disappoint. Because his goal has shifted from killing Freeza to saving his Mate; by any means necessary.”
Paragus raised his hands, stopping the conversations happening around him, and glared at the Namekain, “Are you really suggesting that we send this boy into battle?” “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Piccolo nodded. Shaking his head, the scarred Saiyan leaned back in his chair, “I won’t allow it. I’m not going to risk him getting killed for the sake of believability.” A deep growl caused all eyes to gaze at the teen, “I’m going. Whether you allow it or not, doesn’t matter; not to me.” Anger sparked between the dueling Saiyans before the older, battle-scarred male hissed, “Fine. But I’m still not sending you into a battle. Not until I know that you can handle it.”
The tall, broad-shouldered bald man hummed in thought, “What about Region 8? They received heavy bombing late last week, so there shouldn’t be any military targets left to worry about the Capital making an unexpected appearance.” Bardock glanced at Tienshinhan before speaking directly to Vegeta, “Even so, there’s always the potential that something will happen.” “I’ve lived under the threat of Freeza killing me my whole life. Why should I fear that lizard now?” Vegeta stated calmly, his decision made and no one was going to talk him out of it. Raising to his feet, Tien made his leave, “I’ve got to go. Vegeta, why don’t you and Nappa stop by my workshop later today? I’ve got a few things I think you could use for this trip.”
Plans were discussed on when Vegeta and a small team would leave for Region 8 and all the little details that bored the young Prince to death. Closing his eyes, the teen focused on his breathing before reaching out for the Bond. Bulma? Can you hear me? Her faint voice echoed within his mind, ‘Vegeta?’ Yes, Woman, it’s me. Are you ok? ‘Yes, for…’ What? For what? You cut out. ‘Now. For…’ Realization hit him hard, I can only hear two words at a time… But you can hear everything I’m saying, right? ‘Yes?’ Bulma sounded confused which worried him, Probably because the Bond is incomplete.
Frustrated anger poured into his mind, filling every crevasse. Calm down, Bulma. Vegeta soothed, It was merely an explanation. Listen, I’ll have to go soon but I need you to stay strong for me. I’m about to do some stuff that will make Freeza beyond pissed at me and he’ll probably take it out on you. I’m… sorry for the pain I’ve caused you and will cause you because of what I’m about to do. Just stay strong, Woman. Because without you, I am nothing. The anger faded into fear and worry, ‘Stay safe.’ Vegeta held his breathe as he waited to see if she would say anything else, ‘I love…’ I love you too, my Mate.
Later that afternoon, Nappa and his charge followed Toma to Tienshinhan’s workshop. “Here ya go. Just, try to not blow anything up; we're still patching the walls from the last time he did that.” Their guide called over his shoulder as he walked back down the corridor. Spotting the newcomers, the bald man greeted them, “Welcome! Come on in, I’ve got some stuff to show you two.” Excitedly leading the two Saiyans to a table laden with tools and parts, Tien picked up a weapon that looked like a gun, but instead of a barrel, it had a small bow mounted on the end with a place to hold nine arrows on the bottom of the strange weapon. “This is for you, Nappa. I know you’re used to guns from your Freeza Force days, but if you’re going to be on Vegeta’s film team I thought you might want to look the part. It’s completely automatic. Go on, give it try.”
Taking the crossbow from the grinning inventor, Nappa held the butt of it to his shoulder, clicked a bolt into place before staring down the scoop at a target thirty feet away. Pulling the trigger, Nappa grinned as his shot landed nearly dead center, “Wow! You’ve got to try this thing, Vegeta! It has literally no recoil.” “Not for someone like you, Nappa.” Tien stated, turning back to the Prince, “And this… is for you.” In his hands was a simple recurve bow, colored an iridescent midnight blue that shimmered as it shifted in the light with its arrow-rest painted a muted crimson.
Lightly gripping the bow, Vegeta was amazed at how light it was, but when he pulled it back there was plenty of poundage behind it. This is the best bow I’ve ever seen… “But why would you make me this?” “I couldn’t make just a prop for you like Shenron wanted. I knew you were going to be fighting eventually, so I wanted to give you the best I had. The arms are reinforced to withstand up to 100 pounds of pressure, plus it can be used to hit your opponents without damaging it or hurting your aim.” Tien explained, moving behind Vegeta to show him something else, “And I’ve got three different types of arrows for you too. Regular, incendiary, and explosive.”
Vegeta touched each color-coded arrow as the other named them off. The black nocked ones were smooth while the yellow ones had rounded flames embossed on them and the red ones held x’s. Picking up a red arrow, the young Saiyan twirled it in his fingers as he walked towards the targets. “Hey, if you see Goku will you tell him I’ve got a trident for him?” The bald inventor called, his eyes going wide as he rushed to stop the Prince from firing. His hand firmly on the arrow, Tienshinhan grunted, “Don’t fire that in here. You only have so many because Chiaotzu was the one who made those. I’m no good with explosives, believe me.” Jerking his thumb over his shoulder, Tien showed Vegeta the after-effects of him trying to learn how his partner had made them.