Beloved

Chapter 12 – A Predator and his Prey.

AN/ Thanks again to all who favourite/ followed my story. It's a huge motivator. Also, thanks again to deafgirl22. I am delighted you like my story that much!

Exiting his craft after landing in the barrens of Registana, Vegeta looked around with great distaste.

Kakarrot had to be on this bloody hot planet, didn't he? He thought ruefully, spitting on the ground.

It was no secret that the Prince harboured a particular disliking of extreme heat. In fact, you could go as far to say he bore an acute loathing for places such as this, where you became drenched in sweat within a matter of seconds, where the sun beat down on you like an anvil, and where the constant, tormenting presence of insects made life even more of a misery.

As if places like this weren't miserable enough, he thought sourly, what with their curiously fusty rules about appropriate behaviour, antiquated view of technology, and strange thoughts about the equality of their females.

Plus, it was an Ice-jin stronghold. That reason alone would usually send Vegeta in the exact opposite direction, his supreme hatred of the lizard-like, horned race superseding all his other, numerous hatreds.

Except perhaps his one of being bettered at anything...

He barked a disparaging laugh at himself, making his way down the side of a sand dune, realising, not for the first time, that one of his very few, likely only, faults was that he could spend too much time in thought.

It was something that often roused his unit's insolent amusement, that he, their august Prince, should spend nearly as much time in sullen reflection as he did in issuing orders and fighting.

A quirk to his personality, that's all it was, Vegeta reasoned stubbornly. After all wasn't a leader and royal, such as he, permitted his eccentricities?

Deciding it was best to make his way on foot, lest he invite unwanted attention to himself, Vegeta began his crossing of the many, varied and striated sand dunes that made up the greater part of Registana's environment.

Cursing his need to approach like this, slogging his way through the sand, he reminded himself that this planet, being under the domain of Frieza, would have a legion of his soldiers stationed at key locations.

All it would take would for his energy to spike and register on one of the soldiers scouters...

It would create an unnecessary commotion when Vegeta was looking to infiltrate by stealth.

For now, anyway. The time would come, soon enough, when he would be ready to reveal himself, to storm his way into the Mines, to beat the answer out of that absolute idiot Kakarrot's head!

He shielded his eyes from the setting sun as he reached the crest of another, larger dune. It was from this vantage point that he was awarded his first look in years of the shining city that was the jewel in Registana's crown.

Sitara. It's walls were blazing in the light of the nearly departed sun, the evening calls to prayer could be heard over the hubbub of noise emanating from the capital, rising and falling in a blustery, scorching breeze.

Bah! Vegeta thought, beginning his descent of the dune. What use were gods in this galaxy when the Kold Empire ruled all?

This other archaic belief, that their ancient gods were still relevant in today's Ice-jin dominated universe, held by all of the native Registanans and even many of their slaves, made Vegeta detest this place even more.

Yes, he usually avoided places like Registana like a plague, if he could. Unless his missions took him there, of course. Then he often would spend very little time on the planet itself, if it were feasible, preferring to lay waste to the world from afar.

It had proven a very effective manner of operating for the Saiyan. He had delegated, where he could, leaving the ground missions to his inferiors, Nappa and Radditz, while he himself would handle the actual extermination of the planet itself.

It been a strategy that had worked out nicely for him, until Radditz' ill-fated trip to Earth had meant Vegeta's personal intervention and subsequent humbling at the hands of that lower-class, base-born, Kakarrot.

The recollection of this brought a flush of rage and shame to his face, his features distorting into an animalistic snarl.

Kakarrot! How dare he take what was Vegeta's right by birth? His reason for continuing whilst under the cruel hand of Frieza? The means with which he would be able to avenge himself?!

It just wasn't right that Kakarrot should have ascended while Vegeta hadn't.

That bastard of an imbecile didn't even know, or appreciate what he had somehow managed, let alone recognise the significance of such an event in regards to the Saiyan species as a whole.

It was the advent, prophecized in their race's primordial histories, that would herald the dawn of a new golden age for the Saiyans. An age where they would rule supreme, be their own absolute masters. An age where they would no longer wear the yoke of slavery, and bow their heads to another.

And, as it was said to be, a member of their esteemed royal family would be, must be, the legendary being who was their salvation. Everyone knew it, believed it.

That the ignorant, moronic, race-traitor Kakarrot had achieved it was unthinkable, impossible even, if Vegeta hadn't witnessed, and felt, the might of it first hand.

Shaking his head clear of this unhelpful train of thought, Vegeta now continued on his way towards the fabled city of Sitara, telling himself that it was only a matter of time before he too became the legend.

Once he got it out of Kakarrot, that is.

For no matter how strong or intelligent he was, and he knew he was incredibly endowed with both these things, Vegeta was sure that there must be some crucial, vital aspect to the transformation that he was missing.

This brought him to his next dilemma. Just how was he to get to Kakarrot?

The Mines of Registana, located just on the periphery of Sitara, were renowned for not only their sheer brutality, but also their impenetrability. No-one had ever escaped from the Mines throughout their millennia of operation. It was simply unheard of.

They was also guarded by a highly trained force of Frieza's elite soldiers. This was because those within the Mines were all, without exclusion, men of some considerable strength, exiled to their fate due to their steadfast refusal to submit to Frieza's rule.

So instead of simply killing them, as he so frequently did with his malcontents, Frieza occasionally found it profoundly amusing to sentence men to their lingering deaths there, breaking their backs in mining the gems and precious metals out of that hell-hole, to line his already teeming coffers with more wealth and treasures.

Also, found only on Registana, was the highly profitable metal Tamba, a copper-like material whose use in the circuitry and wiring of the entire fleet of Frieza's ships, and in their cherished scouters, was of acute necessity for the running of his empire.

So if no-one could leave the mine, how was he to enter? Vegeta wondered for the umpteenth time. Outside of the obvious, being sentenced to a life of hard labour there, he was stuck for an idea.

As he approached the sprawling environs of one of the massive gates of Sitara, consisting of a cluttered colony of tents, shanties and lean-tos lying in the long shadow of the silver city, he was struck by the horrendous smell and abject filth. These were obviously the abodes of the lowest classes of Sitara, those derelicts who could not afford to live within the sheltered sphere of it's shimmering walls.

Yes, he could see them now, as they peered out of their hovels to stare in wonder at him, their faces covered in dirt and grime. There was no doubt now in Vegeta's mind that some of these very people, whose eyes followed him as he passed, were also among the "Outcast" class that he had heard of.

These pitiful wretches, men, women and even children, were considered to be inherently tainted in some way, contaminated by their unenviable task of cremating the city's dead.

It was believed, by the superstitious city dwellers, and perpetuated by all including the Raja, that the Outcasts had become suffused with the impure matter of the deceased, that they carried it within themselves like a contagion, and that it could also be passed on by them through touch to another.

Thus the whole lot of them were banished, forever to live on the fringe of the society they served so well, not even permitted to draw water from the city's lifeblood of wells, for the fear that they would pollute the limitless underground reservoirs that had nourished this city stranded in the middle of a formidable desert for more than aeon.

Vegeta felt a stab of emotion for these people. Revulsion probably. Pity not likely. And compassion, ha! Certainly not.

No, the more he saw of these despondent souls, the less he wanted to.

The way they all were looking at him, so openly unafraid and with much curiosity, like he were some stray pet, and not the savage beast that he truly was.

No doubt this was due to his wearing of the uniform as befitting one of their deified Lord Frieza's army.

It made Vegeta feel sorely tempted to show them, first hand, the grave error of their folly in thinking of him as some tame, loyal, devoted servant of Frieza's.

Yet he knew the stupidity of revealing himself too soon. The time would come when he would ravage this pathetic little planet, like all the countless others before it, and be rid of this wretched world once and for all.

The thought made him smile with open malice, many of the people watching him from their sparse dwellings recoiled in fear and alarm at the look on his face.

Yes, he was no kept soldier, like the rest of Frieza's corps, no dutiful puppet to dance on strings.

Vegeta was, as of now, his own master. He would decide when and how to act, now that he had defied his Lord's orders and struck out on his own.

Perhaps that disastrous trip to Earth had proven to be a blessing in disguise. After all it had finally rid him of his incompetent vassals, Nappa and Radditz, even if it had nearly cost Vegeta his own life.

Yet it was on Earth that Vegeta had learned of the extraordinary existence of the Dragonballs.

These seven spheres of legend were said to be able to grant any wish the heart could desire.

Vegeta had thought, felt, that his life-long held dream was finally within his grasp. Through the boon of immortality that he could obtain from the mythical Dragon he would be undefeatable, his body impervious to harm, his life would remain inviolate and eternal.

Not that he had thought very long about the possible repercussions of an everlasting life, too consumed was he with the prospect of being able to defeat his absolute nemesis Frieza.

No, he had thought his chance at retribution had at last come, after these long years of slavery, and after all he had endured his greatest desire was almost nigh, so close he could taste it...

Alas, things had not worked out in Vegeta's favour. His wish, and the Dragonballs, had died along with that curious Earth-Namek who had sacrificed himself to save Kakarrot's brat.

He again found himself inwardly cursing the single minded sentimentality that seemed to infect all those who resided on the Earth. It had cost him his chance at vengeance.

For now, anyway, he reminded himself, as he made his way to the looming gate in Sitara's wall. As soon as Kakarrot secret was his, then so too would be his revenge.

And that would be the sweetest moment of Vegeta's life.

He simply couldn't imagine a greater joy in his existence, as his lust for retribution was all-encompassing. His desire to avenge not only himself but also his people, and free them from their subjugation, would be the absolute defining moment of his life. Of this he was certain.

Yet again his thoughts returned down the well trodden path in his mind of his soon to come ascension. The very day where he would walk as a god among mortals was nearly his, all he needed was the how of it.

Which in turn bought his thoughts to the dead end of how he was to reach Kakrrot. As he stood directly beneath the ornately carved west gate of Sitara, his face a glum glower, he was going over again and again what information he knew about Registana's Mines, and the how of Kakarrot and his foolish friends coming to be there, when suddenly he remembered...

The women! His mind roared at him. Of course! How could he have forgotten what he had been told, only months ago, but fresh in his mind due to his stasis sleep in transit here, by the chief medic of Space Station 1128?

The medic had definitely said that Kakarrot's women had been bought here as well! They may very well know something of the way of Kakarrot's strength and mind, perhaps enough to assist Vegeta in his own quest to ascension.

Plus, most importantly, they would be far more accessible than Kakarrot was, no doubt sold as household salves or whores here in Sitara.

All he would have to do was track them down, coerce their new owner to allow him some time alone with them, where he would proceed to interrogate and torture the information out of them!

If they were to die under his ungentle ministrations... oh well, it wouldn't matter. The lives of some silly Earth women was of very little consequence to Vegeta, especially when his destiny was at stake.

Furthermore, if their new master was to object, Vegeta was in no doubt that he would be able to deal with a measly brothel madam or lordling of this place. Even the guards of those sorts of people, the last he knew, were not very impressive when it came to martial ability. A bunch of obese, sexless eunuchs, he sneered with contempt.

He should be able to do away with the lot of them without barely raising his energy to the levels that would alert Frieza's soldiers.

Yes! The idea solidified in his mind, seeming all the more better the more he thought of it. He would find Kakarrot's women and they would tell him all he wanted to know. Whether they liked it or not.

Grinning like a madman he made his way into the city in search of his prey, passing the two now very nervous looking guards of the gate, who only bade him entry due to his uniform. They would go on to spend a sleepless night in wondering whether they had indeed loosed a fox amongst the doves.

AN/ This chapter was difficult to write as I was very nervous about my characterisation of Vegeta. I would like to tell you that his bemoaning of the heat, and other things, is not due to a weak personality but rather because he is, after all, an absolute snob. He thinks many such things are far beneath him. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this kind of rambling chapter.