Chapter 16: The Green World's Secrets

The crystalline formations of Namek caught the light of three suns as our group made their way back toward the ship, the weight of Guru's revelations still heavy in the air. Sage walked with measured steps, his violet aura flickering occasionally as he processed the newfound control over his transformation. Gohan bounded ahead with barely contained excitement, golden energy dancing around his small frame.

"I can't believe how different everything feels," Gohan said, flexing his fingers and watching sparks of power dance between them. "It's like... like I was only using half of myself before."

Sage nodded, his dark eyes scanning the horizon with predatory awareness. "Your father would be proud. The power Guru unlocked... it's what Saiyans were meant to achieve."

Krillin jogged alongside them, still marveling at his own enhanced abilities. "Do you really think we have a chance against Frieza now? I mean, Guru made him sound like he could destroy planets with a finger snap."

"Power alone won't be enough," Sage replied thoughtfully. "But with proper strategy, the element of surprise, and these new abilities..." He paused, his tactical mind working. "We might have a fighting chance."

As they crested a ridge overlooking their landing site, the communicator in Gohan's pack crackled to life. Bulma's frantic voice burst through the static, transmitted across the vast distance between Earth and Namek through the Capsule Corp communication network.

"Guys! Guys, can you hear me? This is urgent!" Her voice was strained with worry and excitement.

Sage immediately signaled for them to stop, his enhanced hearing picking up the tension in her tone. "Bulma? We're here. What's wrong?"

"Everything's wrong! Listen carefully - Goku left Earth three days ago in a Capsule Corp ship I've been working on. At the speed he's traveling, he should be reaching Namek within the next few days, maybe sooner!"

Gohan's face lit up with hope. "Dad's coming?"

"That's the good news," Bulma continued, her voice crackling through the long-distance transmission. "The bad news is... I've been monitoring radio frequencies from various space stations near Namek's sector. Frieza's forces are systematically hitting every village on that planet. They're collecting Dragon Balls, and from what I can intercept, they already have four of them!"

The color drained from Krillin's face. "Four? But we only have one..."

"Which means there are three left," Sage calculated grimly, his tactical mind immediately assessing the situation. "But if they're going village to village..."

"Each elder holds one Dragon Ball," Gohan said quietly, remembering Guru's explanation. "They're killing the elders to get them."

Sage's expression darkened. "And if Frieza gets all seven before we do..."

"Then everyone stays dead," Gohan finished quietly, his earlier excitement fading into grim determination.

"There's more," Bulma's voice continued. "I'm picking up multiple high-energy readings on Namek that match Saiyan signatures. You three aren't the only ones on that planet. Be careful - I don't know if they're friends or enemies."

The transmission began to fade as atmospheric interference increased. "I'll try to contact you again in twelve hours... be safe, guys. And find those Dragon Balls before Frieza does!"

The communicator went silent, leaving the three warriors standing in the alien landscape with the weight of their mission pressing down on them like the combined gravity of Namek's three suns.

"Other Saiyans," Sage murmured, his predatory instincts immediately alert. "That complicates things."

"Could they be friendly?" Gohan asked hopefully.

Sage's expression was grim. "After what happened on Earth? I doubt it. Any Saiyan working with or for Frieza is our enemy. i mean it could be just vegeta himself"

"So what's the plan?" Krillin asked.

Sage studied the horizon, his enhanced senses reaching out to detect any unusual energy signatures. "We need more information. I'm sensing a massive power level to the northwest - much larger than what we encountered from the Saiyans who came to Earth. prince vegeta and nappa"

"Should we investigate together?" Gohan suggested.

"No." Sage's tactical mind was already forming a strategy. "We can't risk all of us being caught in one place. You two head back to the ship and prepare for departure if necessary along with hiding this dragon ball. I'll scout ahead and see what we're dealing with."

"Sage, that's dangerous," Krillin protested. "We shouldn't split up, especially not after what Bulma just told us."

"I'll be careful," Sage promised, but his violet aura was already beginning to shimmer around him. "My stealth training will keep me hidden, and we need to know what kind of opposition we're facing. If these are the same Saiyans who served under Frieza, they might have information we can use."

"And if they try to kill you?" Gohan asked with concern that was touching in its innocence.

Sage's smile was predatory. "Then they'll discover what a real Saiyan is."

Before either of them could argue further, Sage launched himself into the sky, his ki signature quickly fading as he employed the stealth techniques he'd perfected during his years of isolation.

Meanwhile, across the verdant landscape of Namek, Prince Vegeta stood over the broken body of one of Frieza's soldiers, his boot grinding the alien's face into the green soil. The pathetic creature had been easy to track after Vegeta's scouter detected his energy signature near a cluster of destroyed villages.

The soldier was a typical Frieza Force grunt - purple skin, bulbous head, and the distinctive armor that Vegeta himself had worn for so many years. The sight of it now filled him with a complex mixture of familiarity and disgust.

"Tell me everything," Vegeta commanded, his voice carrying the cold authority of Saiyan royalty that had been beaten into him since childhood. "How many Dragon Balls does Frieza have? Where is he now? And why is he here personally instead of sending lackeys like you?"

The soldier gasped, purple blood trickling from his mouth where Vegeta's initial blow had split his lip. "P-Prince Vegeta... Lord Frieza has been wondering about your whereabouts... He thought you died on that primitive world..."

"Answer my questions," Vegeta snarled, increasing the pressure on the soldier's throat. "Or I'll make your death significantly more painful than it needs to be."

"F-four!" the soldier choked out. "Lord Frieza has four Dragon Balls already! He's... he's moving village to village, demanding them from the elders personally..."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed dangerously. Something about this felt wrong. Frieza never involved himself directly in collection missions - he had countless subordinates for such mundane tasks. "Why is he here himself? What's so important about these particular Dragon Balls?"

The soldier's eyes widened with the fervor of a true believer. "They can grant three wishes instead of one, my lord! And Lord Frieza seeks immortality itself! Once he becomes truly immortal, no force in the universe will be able to challenge his rule!"

A chill ran down Vegeta's spine. Frieza, immortal. The tyrant was already the most powerful being Vegeta had ever encountered - the idea of him becoming truly unkillable was a nightmare beyond imagination.

"And if the elders refuse to give up their Dragon Balls?" Vegeta asked, though he already knew the answer.

"They die," the soldier whispered with disturbing satisfaction." just like your home planet"

Something cold and sharp settled in Vegeta's chest at those words, but he pushed the feeling aside. Planet Vegeta had been destroyed by a meteor - a cosmic accident that had nothing to do with Frieza. The soldier was clearly confused or trying to manipulate him.

"Where is the nearest village that hasn't been touched yet?" Vegeta demanded.

The soldier pointed with a trembling hand toward a distant mountain range, where green peaks rose like emerald spears against the alien sky. "There... in the Moori Valley... but Prince Vegeta, you can't interfere with Lord Frieza's mission! He'll kill you if you—"

Vegeta's ki flared, silencing the soldier permanently in a burst of golden energy. As the smoke cleared and ash drifted away on the alien breeze, he stood alone among the ruins of another destroyed Namekian village.

The thought of wishing for power that could finally surpass Frieza's was intoxicating.

Vegeta launched himself toward the mountains, his white cape streaming behind him like a banner of war.

The Namekian village nestled in the Moori Valley looked almost identical to the others he'd found - organic architecture that seemed grown rather than built, crystalline formations providing natural light, and the peaceful atmosphere of a people who had never known the brutality of galactic conquest.

Until today.

Vegeta landed in the village center with enough force to crack the organic pavement, his white cape billowing dramatically behind him. Namekians scattered in terror, their antennae twitching with fear as they recognized the distinctive Saiyan armor that had become synonymous with Frieza's conquest forces throughout the galaxy.

Children ran crying to their parents, elders herded the young toward shelter, and warriors - what few the peaceful Namekians had - took defensive positions around the village's perimeter. Their power levels barely registered on Vegeta's scouter, pitiful numbers that wouldn't have challenged him even before his Zenkai boost from Earth.

"ELDER!" Vegeta's voice boomed across the settlement, enhanced by ki to carry to every corner of the village. "I know you're here! Show yourself! I've come for your Dragon Ball!"

An elderly Namekian with a gnarled walking stick and ceremonial robes emerged from the largest structure - a living building that looked like it had been grown from the earth itself. His ancient eyes met Vegeta's with surprising calm, and Vegeta noted the lack of fear in the old alien's posture.

"I am Elder Moori," the Namekian said, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "You wear the armor of Frieza's forces, but your energy... it feels different. Conflicted. What do you truly want with our sacred sphere, warrior?"

Vegeta was momentarily taken aback by the elder's perceptiveness. Most beings cowered in terror when faced with Saiyan power - this old creature was actually trying to read his motivations.

"I want the Dragon Ball. Now." Vegeta's power level spiked threateningly, causing nearby crystalline formations to crack from the pressure. "Hand it over, and your people can continue their peaceful existence. Refuse, and..."

He let the threat hang in the air, his aura flickering around him like barely contained flame.

Elder Moori straightened his bent back as much as age would allow. "The Dragon Balls are not meant for conquest or selfish desires, young warrior. They were created to preserve life, to heal, to restore what was lost. I cannot give you what you seek if your intentions are destructive."

"Cannot?" Vegeta laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. "Or will not?"

"Both," the elder replied with quiet dignity. "A Dragon Ball given under threat loses its power to grant pure wishes. The spheres respond to the heart of the one who gathers them."

This was news to Vegeta. His scouter had detected no lies in the elder's biometric readings, which meant the old Namekian actually believed what he was saying. If true, it would explain why Frieza was collecting them personally rather than sending subordinates. well unknown to him, it was all obviously a lie

"Then you die for your principles," Vegeta snarled, energy gathering in his palm. The threat wasn't entirely empty - if he couldn't get the Dragon Ball through intimidation, he would take it by force. But something about the elder's calm defiance reminded him of...

The blast was precise, controlled. Not enough to vaporize, but more than enough to kill. Elder Moori crumpled to the organic pavement without a sound, his ancient life extinguished in an instant.

"ELDER MOORI!" A younger Namekian - barely more than a child by their standards - rushed forward, cradling the fallen leader with obvious grief. "You monster! He was a good person! He never hurt anyone! He spent his whole life helping others!"

Vegeta felt something twist in his chest - an unfamiliar sensation that he quickly buried beneath royal indifference. The child's grief was... familiar. It reminded him of something from long ago, something he'd trained himself not to think about.

"The Dragon Ball," he said, his voice carefully controlled. "Where is it?"

Through tears that caught the light of Namek's three suns, the young Namekian pointed to the elder's dwelling. "Take it and leave us in peace. Haven't you done enough?"

As Vegeta retrieved the orange sphere from within the organic structure, feeling its mystical energy pulse against his palm like a living heartbeat, he couldn't shake the image of the elder's peaceful defiance. The way the old Namekian had faced death without flinching, protecting his beliefs even when it cost him everything...

It reminded him of his father.

King Vegeta had died protecting Planet Vegeta, fighting against impossible odds against an invasion from another warrior race. He'd died as a king should - defending his people to the last breath. The similarity to this Namekian elder was... uncomfortable.

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar ki signature approaching fast through Namek's atmosphere. Vegeta pocketed the Dragon Ball as in miniaturized and disappeared and stepped outside just as a tall, blue-skinned figure in pristine white armor landed gracefully in the village square.

"Well, well," the newcomer said, his voice carrying that cultured, mocking tone that had grated on Vegeta's nerves for years. "Prince Vegeta. Lord Frieza has been wondering about your whereabouts."

Vegeta's lips curved into a predatory smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Zarbon. Still playing dress-up as Frieza's lapdog, I see. And still as ugly as ever."

Zarbon's handsome features twisted with familiar disdain. "Such crude words from supposed royalty. Though I suppose that's what happens when you associate with primitive worlds and their inhabitants." His eyes glittered with malicious amusement. "Speaking of which, how did your mission to that backwater planet go? You were supposed to return months ago."

"The mission took longer than expected," Vegeta replied carefully, not wanting to reveal the full extent of his humiliation on Earth.

"Longer than expected?" Zarbon laughed, the sound like breaking crystal. "My dear prince, we received reports that you were defeated by the planet's inhabitants. Beaten so badly you barely escaped with your life. Is this true?"

Heat flashed through Vegeta's body - not just anger, but genuine shame. The memory of his defeat at the hands of Kakarot, his son and that man was still fresh, still painful. "Temporary setbacks. Nothing more."

"Temporary setbacks," Zarbon repeated mockingly. "How... princely of you to phrase it that way. Lord Frieza was quite disappointed to hear that his pet Saiyan couldn't handle a few primitive humans."

The casual cruelty in Zarbon's voice was nothing new, but something about it felt different now. After his defeat on Earth, after seeing what determination and heart could accomplish against superior power, Zarbon's aristocratic arrogance seemed... small.

"Tell Frieza that the Prince of all Saiyans bows to no one," Vegeta replied, his aura beginning to shimmer around him. "Especially not now."

"Oh? Have you grown stronger, monkey?" Zarbon's power level spiked mockingly, reaching the impressive heights that had once made Vegeta feel insignificant. "You're still the same weakling who couldn't even handle those pathetic humans."

That was the final straw. the casual dismissal of Saiyan pride, the years of accumulated insults and condescension - it all crystallized into pure rage.

But this wasn't the helpless fury Vegeta had felt on Earth. This was something colder, more controlled. The rage of a predator who had suddenly realized he was no longer prey.

"Zarbon," Vegeta said conversationally, his power beginning to climb in a way that made his scouter readings fluctuate wildly. "Would you like to know what getting beaten within an inch of death does to a Saiyan?"

Before Zarbon could respond, Vegeta exploded forward with speed that made his previous battles look like slow motion. His fist connected with Zarbon's jaw with a sickening crack that echoed across the valley, sending the alien warrior skidding across the village square and through two of the organic buildings.

"It makes us stronger," Vegeta finished conversationally, dusting off his gloves as if he'd just completed a minor chore.

Zarbon emerged from the rubble, his perfect features marred by a spreading bruise and a split lip that leaked purple blood. "Impossible... your power level was only 18,000 on Earth... my scouter must be malfunctioning..."

"Was 18,000," Vegeta agreed, his ki climbing steadily past 20,000, past 25,000, still rising. "Care to guess what it is now?"

The battle that followed was gloriously, brutally one-sided. Every technique Zarbon had used to humiliate Vegeta in the past - the speed combinations that had once seemed impossible to counter, the elegant fighting style that had made Vegeta feel clumsy and crude - was now laughably slow, predictably desperate.

Vegeta caught Zarbon's signature heel kick, the move that had once knocked him unconscious, and twisted with casual strength that broke the alien's leg with an audible snap.

"This is for every condescending word," Vegeta snarled, driving his knee into Zarbon's ribs with enough force to crack bone. "This is for every time you looked down on Saiyan pride." Another devastating blow sent Zarbon sprawling across the village square.

"This is for calling me a monkey," he continued, his attacks systematic and methodical. Each blow was precisely calculated to cause maximum pain without ending the fight too quickly. "And this... this is for years of humiliation."

As Zarbon lay broken and gasping among the ruins of the Namekian village, Vegeta knelt beside him with mock concern. "Now then, let's have a conversation about Lord Frieza. I find myself curious about certain... historical events."

Zarbon's eyes were glazed with pain and shock. "What... what are you talking about?"

"Planet Vegeta," Vegeta said quietly. "How exactly did my homeworld meet its end?"

Zarbon's eyes widened in genuine confusion through his pain. "What... what are you talking about? You know how it happened..."

"Humor me," Vegeta's voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "Tell me about the meteor."

"Meteor?" Zarbon actually laughed, blood frothing on his lips. "Is that what he told you? Oh, this is rich... this is absolutely precious..."

Something cold and terrible began growing in Vegeta's chest. "What do you mean?"

Zarbon's laugh turned into a coughing fit that brought up more blood. "You really don't know, do you? Prince Vegeta, the last of the Saiyan royalty, doesn't even know the truth about his own planet's destruction."

"Speak plainly," Vegeta demanded, but his voice lacked its usual authority. Something in Zarbon's tone was filling him with dread.

"There was no meteor, you fool," Zarbon gasped, his words coming in pained bursts. "Frieza destroyed Planet Vegeta himself. Blew it up with a single attack because he feared the legendary Super Saiyan would eventually emerge from your race."

The world went silent around Vegeta. The three suns of Namek seemed to dim, the sounds of the alien world faded to nothing, and his hearing became a dull roar that might have been his own blood or might have been the screaming of his entire murdered race.

"You're lying," he whispered, but even as he said it, pieces were falling into place. The convenient mission that had taken him off-planet just before the "meteor" struck. Frieza's occasional cryptic comments about Saiyan potential. The way other races in the empire looked at him with amusement rather than fear.

"Why would I lie to a dead man?" Zarbon's smile was cruel even through his pain. "He sent you away on that mission specifically to keep you alive - his pet Saiyan, the prince who would serve him forever, never knowing he was serving his people's murderer."

The implications hit Vegeta like a physical assault. Every order he'd followed, every planet he'd conquered, every life he'd taken in Frieza's name - all of it while his people's killer sat on his throne, laughing at the loyal little prince who didn't know any better.

"He kept you alive as a trophy," Zarbon continued, his voice growing weaker but his words cutting deeper. "The last Saiyan royal, forever serving the one who made him an orphan. He used to laugh about it, you know. How the proud Prince Vegeta would bow and scrape before his master, never knowing the truth."

Vegeta's ki exploded outward uncontrollably, the sheer force of his rage vaporizing what remained of the village's structures and sending shockwaves across the mountain range. His vision turned red, his mind filled with images of his father's last stand, his people's final moments, all while he was light-years away playing the loyal soldier.

When his vision cleared, there was nothing left of Zarbon but ash drifting on the alien wind.

"FRIEZA!" The name tore from his throat like a primal scream, echoing across the valleys of Namek and startling wildlife for miles in all directions. "FRIEZA!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Sage's head snapped up from his aerial reconnaissance, his enhanced senses picking up the distant energy explosion and the rage-filled scream that followed. The power signature was unmistakably Saiyan, and unmistakably familiar.

"Vegeta," he murmured to himself, his violet aura flickering as he changed course toward the source of the disturbance. "But that power level..."

He'd felt power like this once before - on Earth, when grief and rage had pushed him beyond his normal limits. This wasn't just anger. This was the kind of fury that came from having your entire world view shattered.

As he approached the ruined valley, Sage could see the devastation spread across several square miles. Whatever had happened here, it had been explosive and thoroughly destructive. He landed carefully at the edge of the destruction zone, his predatory instincts alert for any sign of danger.

He found Vegeta standing at the center of the devastation, surrounded by smoking craters and scattered debris. The Prince's back was to him, his distinctive flame-shaped hair silhouetted against the alien sky, but Sage could sense the turmoil radiating from him like heat waves.

The Saiyan Prince looked... broken. Not physically - his posture was still proud, still regal - but something fundamental had been shattered inside him.

"Vegeta," Sage called out, landing several meters away with his hands visible and non-threatening. He'd learned caution during his years of isolation - a traumatized warrior required delicate handling.

The Prince turned slowly, and Sage was shocked by what he saw. Vegeta's eyes were red-rimmed, his face a mask of barely controlled fury and something that looked almost like... grief? This wasn't the arrogant, condescending royal who had fought on Earth. This was something rawer, more human.

"The low-class warrior," Vegeta said, his voice hoarse. "Come to finish what you started on Earth? Come to see the Prince of all Saiyans brought low?"

There was no mockery in the words, no aristocratic disdain. Just exhaustion and pain that Sage recognized all too well.

"I came because I sensed your rage," Sage replied carefully, his tactical mind noting Vegeta's defensive posture and emotional instability. "What happened here?"

Vegeta laughed, but there was no humor in it - only bitter irony. "What happened? I learned the truth. The truth about our planet. The truth about our people. The truth about the glorious Prince who was supposed to protect them."

Something in Vegeta's tone made Sage's stomach drop. He'd heard that kind of devastated realization before - in his own voice, years ago, when he'd first understood the true scope of what he'd lost.

"What truth?" Sage asked, though part of him already suspected the answer.

"There was no meteor," Vegeta said, each word precise and cutting like a blade. "Frieza killed them all. Every last Saiyan. Men, women, children - blew up our entire world because he was afraid of what we might become."

Sage's eyes darkened "why are you stating the obvious traitor"

Vegeta looked at him confused "what do you mea-...." he paused, contemplating something.

"I was lied to!" Vegeta snarled, his power flaring briefly before he brought it under control. "We were lied to.... Frieza sent me away on a mission - kept his pet prince nice and safe while he committed genocide against our entire race. he told me that our planet was destroyed by a meteor, that it was so sudden not even he would have survived...no fucking way....it was so obvious"

Sage felt his own rage building, his violet aura beginning to flicker around him as the implications sank in. vegeta didnt even knew what had happened, he had been told a huge lie to keep him on leash.... but that changed nothing.

"You were supposed to protect us," he said, his voice growing dangerous as old pain mixed with new fury. "You were our PRINCE! Where were you when our people needed you most?"

"WHERE WAS I?" Vegeta exploded, his ki spiking violently enough to crack the ground beneath their feet. "I was exactly where that monster wanted me to be! Off conquering some worthless planet for his empire while he murdered every man, woman, and child I was sworn to protect!"

The two Saiyans faced each other across the ruined valley, their combined power causing the very air to crackle with energy. Lightning began to arc between them as their auras clashed, violet meeting gold in a display of barely contained power.

"You abandoned us!" Sage accused, years of suppressed resentment boiling over. "When Planet Vegeta needed its royal family, where were you? Playing soldier for the same tyrant who—"

"I DIDN'T KNOW!" Vegeta screamed, his voice cracking with genuine anguish. "Do you think I would have served him if I'd known? Do you think I would have spent years bowing and scraping before my people's murderer if I'd had any idea?"

The raw pain in Vegeta's voice made Sage pause, his analytical mind cutting through the emotion to examine the situation objectively. He looked into Vegeta's eyes and saw something that made his anger falter.

This wasn't the face of a traitor or a coward. This was the face of another victim.

"You knew," Sage said quietly, the accusation draining out of his voice. remembering the confusion of raditz at his accusation

"I didn't know," Vegeta confirmed, his voice breaking slightly. "I've spent twenty years serving the bastard who killed our people. Twenty years following orders, conquering worlds, playing the loyal soldier to the monster who committed genocide against our race while I was light-years away, completely ignorant."

Sage felt his anger transforming into something more complex. Here was the Prince he'd blamed for abandoning them, betraying them, destroying them and Vegeta had been just as much a victim as any of them. Manipulated, lied to, kept alive as a sick trophy while believing he was honoring his duty.

"He kept you alive on purpose," Sage realized. "As a reminder of what he'd done."

"As a trophy," Vegeta agreed bitterly. "The last Saiyan prince, forever serving the one who made him an orphan. Zarbon told me... told me that Frieza used to laugh about it. How I would bow before my master, never knowing the truth."

The mention of Zarbon explained the ash scattered around the area. Sage could piece together what had happened - Vegeta had learned the truth and killed the messenger in his rage.

"This cant be.." Sage said after a long moment of silence. "How could i be... be so stupid?"

Vegeta's head snapped up, anger and pride burning within him. "how can you say such things as a saiyan warrior"

" im no warrior.... and im definetly not a true saiyan" sage's legs almost lost his strength but the violet energy within him kept him up

Vegeta snarled, "snap out of it you fool, as a saiyan you should never be this pathetic... plus there are bigger problems like freiza" the name was spout out with uncontained fury

Sage cleared him mind and nodded " if Frieza is here collecting Dragon Balls..." Sage's tactical mind began working through the implications. "This isn't a coincidence."

"No," Vegeta agreed slowly. "It's not. That bastard is trying to wish for immortality. If he succeeds..."

"He becomes truly unstoppable," Sage finished. "No chance of revenge, no hope of justice. He wins forever."

The two warriors stood in understanding for a moment, united by shared loss and a common enemy. But then Sage's expression hardened with suspicion.

"Wait," he said, his predatory instincts reasserting themselves. "How do I know you're telling the truth? How do I know this isn't some elaborate manipulation? You tried to kill us on Earth."

Vegeta's eyes flashed with anger. "Manipulation? You think I would fabricate the destruction of our homeworld for some tactical advantage?"

"You're Frieza's soldier," Sage pressed, his aura beginning to flicker violet again. "You came to Earth to recruit my friend, to drag him into Frieza's service. You killed humans without a thought. How am I supposed to trust anything you say?"

"Because I thought you were traitors!" Vegeta snapped back. "Do you have any idea what it was like, being told I was the only Saiyan left alive along with a dumb halfblood and a weakling filled with arrogance but no power, only to discover that two others had been hiding on some primitive world? I thought you and Kakarot had abandoned our race, chosen to live in exile while I carried the burden alone!"

"Kakarot was sent to Earth as an infant," Sage replied hotly. "He didn't even know he was Saiyan until his brother told him. And I was launched into space by my father when I was barely old enough to enroll in the forces We didn't abandon anyone - we were children!"

"Children," Vegeta repeated, and some of the anger went out of his voice. "Yes... I suppose you were. Kakarot's power level was so low at birth, he would have been considered worthless. And you..." He studied Sage with new eyes. "You must have been very young when Planet Vegeta was destroyed."

"Four years old," Sage confirmed. "My father Toma put me in an escape pod and launched me toward Earth. I grew up alone, knowing that my own people turned their back on me"

"Toma," Vegeta's expression shifted to something almost like respect. "I remember him. A low-class warrior, but honorable. He questioned orders that involved civilian casualties." His voice grew thoughtful. "If he launched you toward Earth before the... before Frieza's attack, he might have suspected something."

The possibility hung in the air between them - that some Saiyans had known what was coming, had tried to save their children even as their world burned.

"Look," Sage said finally, "I still don't trust you. You've spent years as Frieza's enforcer, and nothing's going to change that history overnight. But right now, we have a bigger problem."

"Frieza," Vegeta agreed grimly.

"Frieza," Sage confirmed. "He's here, he's collecting Dragon Balls, and he's trying to become immortal. If that happens, he wins everything. Our people stay dead, the universe stays under his thumb, and we never get our revenge."

"What are you proposing?" Vegeta asked, though his tone suggested he already knew.

"Temporary alliance," Sage said bluntly. "We work together to stop Frieza from getting the Dragon Balls. After that..." He shrugged. "We can go back to being enemies if you want."

Vegeta considered this, his royal pride warring with practical necessity. "You realize that even working together, we're probably going to die. Frieza's power is beyond anything either of us has ever faced."

"Maybe," Sage acknowledged. "But I'd rather die fighting our people's killer than live knowing I could have done something and didn't."

Something shifted in Vegeta's expression - a recognition of shared purpose that transcended their personal animosity. For the first time since Sage had known him, the Prince looked like someone he could respect.

"Very well," Vegeta said formally. "A temporary alliance. Until Frieza is dead."

"Until Frieza is dead," Sage agreed.

They might have said more, but both their scouters began beeping frantically with incoming high-energy readings.

"Multiple power levels," Sage sensed, his mind immediately shifting into combat mode. "Heading toward... the ship."

Their eyes met, and in that instant, all thoughts of their complicated past were forgotten.

"Your friends," Vegeta said.

"Our ship," Sage replied.

Without another word, both Saiyans launched themselves into the sky, racing toward what could only be another of Frieza's forces engaging Gohan and Krillin. Their temporary alliance would be tested sooner than either had expected.

Back at the ship, Krillin was running final diagnostics on their communication equipment when the temperature suddenly dropped twenty degrees. Frost began forming on the ship's hull despite Namek's warm climate, and both humans felt an overwhelming sense of dread settling over them like a heavy blanket.

"What's that?" Gohan asked, pointing to a distant figure approaching through the sky with leisurely confidence.

The being that landed gracefully before their ship was tall and elegant, with blue skin, long white hair braided down his back, and the kind of perfect features that belonged in classical sculpture. His armor was pristine white and gold, clearly marking him as high-ranking in whatever organization he served, and when he smiled, it was the kind of smile that predators gave their prey.

"Well, well," the stranger said, his voice cultured and smooth with an aristocratic accent.