Part one: Training

Chapter 1

"...And here we are," Bulma's father leaned casually against a steel door with a handle and two metal wheels bolted to it, along with a keypad and two dials. The words "GRAVITY ROOM" were printed near the top. Vegeta, dressed in black shorts and runners, tapped his foot impatiently. Though he was eager to start training as soon as possible, he sensed that the doctor wasn't finished talking yet.

"Alright," Dr. Briefs said, "Once you type the code into the keypad, just use the handle to open the door. Both of the wheels are just for show." He leaned forward and tapped the glass of one of the dials. "These are so you can see the climate of the room before you go in. Right now, there's no heavy gravity on, so this one's flat. The other one's for temperature. Let's see... 18° celsius. Perfect!" Vegeta rolled his eyes and tried the door handle, finding it to be locked. Oh god, did he have to listen to this? "...And of course I made the door out of metal so it can withstand the gravity. Actually, the gravity field's programmed to stop right before it hits the door, but I find metal simply does so much for the-"

"Will you stop rambling on and just tell me the blasted password?" Vegeta snapped. He could easily smash through the door, of course, but he wanted privacy when training, not a gaping hole.

Briefs blinked and scratched his head. "I suppose I could, but don't you want to hear about the stylistic purposes of metal doors?"

"No," Vegeta said firmly. He was sorely aware of every passing moment that he could have been training. If the fool had just told him the relevant details, he could already be in the gravity room..

"Okay," the doctor said with a shrug of his shoulders, pulling a scrap of paper out of the pocket of his white lab coat. "The number to unlock the door is..." he squinted through his glasses. "5-1-6-9. Now, I'll give this to you so you don't forget, and-" But Vegeta was already in the room, having pressed the numbered keys as Briefs had spoken.

Looking around, he saw that the room was adequately large. Instead of being square, it was a sort of dome. A spherical object with metal spikes encircling its diameter protruded from the middle of the curved ceiling.

"These are the gravity controls, correct?" Vegeta asked, briskly walked over to a small cranny built into the wall. A keyboard rested inside. Briefs stepped into the room after him.

"Yup. It goes up to 300 G, just like you asked," he shook his head. "But if you ask me, I still think you're crazy. Nobody can survive that, not even Goku." Vegeta looked up and frowned, disliking being compared to Kakarrot.

"Ah, but I'm not asking you, am I?" He turned his attention back to the hole in the wall, gesturing to the keyboard. "So I just type in how many G's I want?" Briefs nodded.

"Sure do, Vegeta. She's a real beauty, isn't she?" His eyes glazed over and he walked to the wall. His voice took on a dream-like quality. "Simple, yet elegant. Clear to operate, but so complex that only a brilliant scientist such as myself could understand how she works," Briefs patted the wall fondly. "Yes siree, a once-in-a-decade invention..." By now, Vegeta had had more than enough of Briefs's voice. He had told the Saiyan all of the necessary functions of the gravity room -and then some- and Vegeta had no more use for him.

"You're trying my patience, Briefs," Vegeta cut in when it was clear that the inventor wasn't going to finish anytime soon. "You've finished your explanation, now leave. I have training to do." Briefs stopped speaking with a huff, but mercifully started for the door. However, precious seconds were ticking by and he still wasn't out of the room. Why were Earthlings so slow?

With a growl of frustration, Vegeta dashed up to him and shoved him the rest of the way out, slamming the door shut behind him. Normally, he wouldn't be so impatient, but he had been waiting weeks for this machine to be done and he just wanted to get started. Besides, everyone on this measly dustball was so far below him that standard etiquette didn't apply. Even the so-called geniuses hadn't advanced the technology to what Vegeta was used to- before Raditz came to Earth they hadn't even known about scouters.

Vegeta walked to the center of the room, a small grin growing on his face. This was where it all began. If Kakarrot, low-class warrior that he was, grew strong enough to defeat Freeza when he became a Super Saiyan, it was almost unthinkable what power Vegeta would be capable of when he ascended. He would make sure that he would far outstrip Kakarrot. And once he destroyed these androids, Kakarrot would pay a thousand times over in his own blood for the humiliation he had caused Vegeta to suffer.

"But first thing's first," he muttered, striding over to the controls. He would start off with what Kakarrot had trained in while on his way to Namek. Typing in "100", Vegeta squared his shoulders and hit enter. A humming sound came from the sphere on the ceiling and its spikes vibrated with energy. The air grew dense and a powerful force threatened to push Vegeta to his knees. He fought it, not budging an inch. If I'm going to be training in gravity three times as heavy as this, this can't affect me at all! he thought fiercely to himself. Taking a slow, even breath in, Vegeta settled into a crouch. He closed his eyes, focusing on stopping his legs from trembling under the weight. He could certainly see why Kakarrot's power had increased so greatly after training in this. But he had to go further.

Opening his eyes, Vegeta exhaled in the same deep, calm manner. Quicker than lightning, he sprung forwards and launched a perfect sequence of attacks at the air: five punches, a spinning kick, a sideways chop, seven more kicks and another dozen punches, all within the space of a second. What would normally be an effortless routine was now a workout, but Vegeta still found it manageable.

The warm-up done, he approached the keyboard once again, careful to walk and hold himself as he normally would. It was now time to see exactly what he was getting himself into.

After he had typed the command into the machine, Vegeta stepped back and braced himself, every muscle tensed. However bad it may be, he would conquer it. And then he'd become a Super Saiyan, just like Kakarrot only much, much stronger. Vegeta waited with bated breath for three hundred times Earth's gravity to settle on his shoulders.

The lights dimmed a bit and for a second the entire room seemed to shiver. Vegeta gave a shuddering gasp as 300 G's forced the air from his lungs. He almost fell to his knees, but he resisted the pull. Vegeta inhaled, and the air burned as it went down his throat.

He couldn't stand up straight. Though he hadn't even begun to go through any of his combat drills, he was already sticky with sweat and one of his calves was cramping. He ignored it, and tried to run across the room, but he was so heavy that he couldn't even get both feet off the ground. He was still beyond the limits of what an ordinary human was capable of in terms of speed, but not by very much. Barely pausing for a half-second, Vegeta spun around and executed three sharp jabs. His body was really complaining now, but he pushed on. He did tone down the pace a little, though. Just enough that he could endure the training for as long as possible.

Hours passed in the room, as Vegeta worked his way through routine after hellish routine. Pale bruises formed on his skin and darkened as time wore on. As far as he could tell, Vegeta hadn't broken any bones, but there were times when he thought he had. He wasn't afraid of the pain, but this planet didn't have any healing tanks. Vegeta didn't have time to waste on any long-term recovery in a hospital.

The circular room took on a dark red tint, but that may have just been the blood pulsing through his eyes.

Finally, when Vegeta could stand it no longer, he stumbled over to the controls. He closed his eyes in relief as the gravity returned to Earth's norm. All his exhausted body wanted to do was to fall to the ground and stay there, but he forced himself to stay standing. When his legs threatened to buckle, he set his face into a mask of indifference and simply walked out the room. As he made his way down the hall, he saw the time on a clock. 5:27 PM. Dinner was always at six, so he'd have time to take a shower.

Vegeta tried to fly back to his room before anyone could see him, but to his horror he found that he didn't have enough chi left. That had never happened before. He could tell that it wasn't from being damaged, he was simply that low on energy. He just needed to eat, then he would regain his strength.

Vegeta made it to his bedroom without running into any humans, only the odd robot. When he first began his stay at Capsule Corp., he had quickly learned that the servant machines out-numbered the residents by a huge margin. Vegeta was ambivalent towards them as long as they stayed out of his way, but he liked that they didn't ask stupid questions or comment on the weather.

Pushing the door open, Vegeta saw with satisfaction that the room was in the same state as he had left it. A while back, he had returned to find things rearranged and tidied. In a rage, Vegeta had told Briefs that the next time any creature went in his room without permission, he would destroy it. Human or robot. In reality, Vegeta had had multiple servants as a child on planet Vegeta, and a few were even assigned to him when he was a high-ranking official working under Freeza, so he was well used to it. But he didn't want any more reminders of his past. Vegeta spent little time there himself, though, so it was never much work to keep it clean.

He kicked the door shut behind him and swiftly crossed the room to his closet. Pulling out a shirt and a pair of pants at random, he walked into his bathroom. With relief, Vegeta noticed that, now that he was out of the gravity room, the pain was almost gone. He barely felt the bruises anymore, he had gotten so many over the course of his life.

Catching sight of himself in the mirror, Vegeta sighed. He didn't look so bad. There wasn't anything noticeably wrong with his face, though Mrs. Briefs wouldn't approve of the many purple splotches on his arms and chest. Vegeta despised Bulma's mother, with her fretting, invasive ways, but he found that the easiest thing to do was to not tell her anything about what he was doing. He would wear long sleeves.

Of course, he could always just kill the old nag, but even if he did away with the entire residents of Capsule Corp., Kakarrot was sure to find out eventually and then he'd be in trouble. Besides, Vegeta needed them for food and shelter. He would not lower himself to stealing, though it was well within his capabilities. He was a Prince, and he deserved no less than what he had. Although the Briefs were an eccentric lot, they were very wealthy.

Vegeta quickly stripped down and stepped into the shower, twisting the handle to the coldest setting. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cool, white tiles of the shower wall, as the ice-cold water soothed his hot skin.

Vegeta stood in the shower for a few minutes, just letting the spray of water wash all the grime and sweat away, dripping off his hair and swirling down the drain. He noticed that there was a fair bit of blood washing off, too. He must've had a few cuts and scratches.

After a while, he stepped out and got dressed, pulling on a beige pair of shorts with cargo pockets and a white cotton t-shirt. Feeling much better (but ravenously hungry), he raced out the door, pausing only to throw on a black sweater.

A second or two later, Vegeta arrived at the entrance to the dining room. He cut all of his speed and walked leisurely through the doorway.

Mr. and Mrs. Briefs were seated at the fancy dinner table along with Yamcha, Pu'ar and Oolong, three pathetic freaks that Bulma had picked up years ago. Yamcha was a former desert bandit who didn't have the drive, nor the balls, to get serious about training. As a result, he was even weaker than Kuririn, and Vegeta held utter disdain for him. Oolong and Pu'ar were both shape-shifters, the latter being Yamcha's sidekick. Despite this somewhat interesting power, they were no stronger than an ordinary human. Oolong was, quite literally, a pig, and Pu'ar seemed to be some sort of strange cross between a cat and a mouse.

"Hello, dear," Mrs. Briefs greeted Vegeta as he strode over to a chair and sat down. "My husband tells me that today was your first time in the new gravity room. How was that?"

"Fine," Vegeta mumbled. "However, if you call me that demeaning name again, someone will be relieved of their teeth in the near future." Mrs. Briefs put a hand to her mouth and giggled.

"Oops! Silly me, I forgot. Okay, Vegeta." She batted her eyelashes at him. "Or is it Prince Vegeta?" He stared at the white table-cloth, trying not to shudder. Did he look like the kind of person who was interested in a relationship? Was there some sign above his head saying "Flirt with me"? No. No, there was not.

"Vegeta. Just Vegeta." He kept his temper in check. Even so, Briefs must have sensed something, because he placed a hand protectively on his wife's shoulder.

"Er, where do you think Bulma is?" he asked her, changing the subject. The woman shrugged.

"She knows what time we eat at. If she's not here soon, there will have to be consequences. It's not polite to keep our guests waiting." Not for the first time, Vegeta wondered what he was doing with these people. They were so different from him, so... docile and meek. Vegeta had told Briefs to make him a gravity room, and so he did. Vegeta wanted full-time food and lodgings, and Mrs. Briefs was more than happy to provide. Nobody expected anything from him, even though he was living in their house, eating their food. Vegeta hated being so dependant, but he couldn't leave, especially now that there was a gravity room.

Somewhere above them, a door slammed. Then the sound of someone running down the stairs, and Bulma appeared in the doorway, face flushed and out of breath.

"Sorry I'm late!" she panted, dropping into a chair. "I was just in the lab at the other end of the house, and I lost track of time."

"I understand, sweetie," Briefs patted his daughter's hand. "God knows it's happened to me before."

"You should've been on time," Vegeta said impatiently. "Whatever you were doing couldn't have been that important, you've kept us waiting, and I have to get back to training." Bulma's mouth dropped open and she stared at him, eyes burning with anger.

"Excuse me!" she cried indignantly. "Have you considered the possibility that I have meaningful work to do, too? How long were you waiting for me, anyways? Two minutes? Three? I don't know if you're aware of this, but you're not the center of the universe. The Earth revolves around the sun, not you, and other people also have the right to exist!" Vegeta's face darkened and he clenched his hands into fists. He would not tolerate this.

"Insolence!" he spat. "How dare you speak to me this way! I am the Prince of all-"

"Break it up, break it up!" Yamcha interrupted, putting himself in between the two of them. "Jeez, can't you guys get along?" Vegeta crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. He would not continue this idiotic conversation. He just wanted to eat, then get back to training.

After a period of silence, Bulma spoke up. "So... it's been really sunny these past few days," Vegeta banged his forehead on the table, which she ignored. "Been out in the garden, mom?" Not listening to Mrs. Briefs's reply, Vegeta watched as small service doors in the walls slid open and little robots wheeled out, bearing great silver platters of food. At last!

He sat up straight, his stomach growling with hunger. Although the servers were going so slow it looked like they were moving through tar, everything was on the table soon enough. As quick as he could without spilling anything, Vegeta served himself some of everything, barely bothering to leave half of each dish for the others. He snatched his chopsticks up and started scarfing down food. Tonight there was fried chicken with some sort of spicy orange sauce, steamed broccoli and rice. It was all very good, as usual, though he didn't have time to fully experience it. He had to get back to training.

As Vegeta drizzled soy sauce on his rice with one hand while tearing chicken off the bone and eating it with the other, he felt the eyes of everyone at the table on him. Not pausing or even looking up from his plate, he kept on eating. Moments later, Vegeta abruptly stood up from the table and streaked out the door. For an instant, he had almost thanked Mrs. Briefs for the meal, but he didn't. She was, after all, a nobody. Nobodies didn't deserve thanks.

Stopping by his room briefly to change back into his shorts, Vegeta was soon back in the gravity room. He was feeling almost 100% recharged, and he was dying to keep going.

He did some warm-up exercises with no gravity on to shake off the sluggish feeling that came with being full, and jumped right into the highest setting. Vegeta frowned and cracked his knuckles, his back complaining about all of the extra weight it was fighting against. But that was good. It showed him his limits, which he would overcome. Work through the pain, ascend, destroy the androids and then kill Kakarrot. Simple enough.

Vegeta trained and trained until he could barely walk in a straight line, then switched off the machine for the night. There was a final sigh-like hum as it powered down and the lights dimmed. Vegeta also let out a breath and gently massaged the back of his neck. He left, making sure to lock the door behind him, and made his way back to his bedroom.

The corridors of Capsule Corp. were dark and abandoned, and Vegeta's footsteps echoed in a way that reminded him of emptiness, of being alone, of death. This was his favorite time to walk these halls, all the cheer and light of day gone. Sometimes the world was a dark place, and too many people pretended otherwise. Sometimes, terrible things came out of the shadows and stole people away. But what made this time so special for Vegeta was that he wasn't the innocent and vulnerable person running from their demons, he was the cause of their fear. He had the power to decide who lived and who died.

Or he would, if blasted Kakarrot wasn't always in the way. Oh well. Once he was a Super Saiyan, Kakarrot wouldn't be a problem anymore. Vegeta almost wanted to turn right around and go train some more, but he knew that he needed to sleep. It was only the first day, anyways. Vegeta had three years to get as powerful as was possible, and then some, and the real test would start tomorrow.

In his room, he kicked off his shoes and fell into bed. In the last few seconds before sleep overtook him, Vegeta smiled in the darkness. Look behind you, Kakarrot. Do you see me fast approaching? Do you feel scared, knowing that I'm going to catch up to you and I'm bringing death with me? I will show you what real fear tastes like...