Zarbon scowled as the transmission to the battalion engaging the Namekians abruptly lost connection. The transmission crackled before turning silent, leaving only the faint background hum of static in his earpiece.
In their fear, none of the soldiers had managed to convey any useful intelligence, their panicked shouts and frantic cries largely drowning out any semblance of coherent information. However, their scouters had performed flawlessly, transmitting the unmistakable crackle of electricity before abruptly cutting off.
That alone was enough for him to quickly narrow down the list of suspects. After all, he knew of only one person on Namek with such a distinctively audible technique.
He cursed under his breath—the Dragon Ball was gone.
Honestly, Zarbon couldn't fathom how the two Saiyans were pulling this off. For the past few days, he had meticulously deactivated the scouters at every base the two had invaded, ensuring that no signals could be transmitted or received. There were no rogue scouters on the planet. Anywhere.
However, no matter how diligent he was, the two Saiyans had persistently pinpointed his forces' locations with uncanny precision, like their lack of scouters had posed no hindrance whatsoever. It was as if they were privy to every maneuver, every strategic deployment, without any discernible source of intelligence.
Zarbon was fucking baffled.
But the 'how' didn't really matter. What really mattered was how quickly he could adapt. He simply needed to operate under the assumption that the two possessed functioning scouters or an equivalent means of obtaining accurate intel on the current whereabouts of all his forces.
As it was, Lord Frieza's stringent order to protect the Dragon Balls at any cost left Zarbon with no choice but to personally oversee their safety. It was regrettable, but there was simply no one else in the Frieza Force qualified for such a duty.
Thus, he found himself relegated to a frustratingly passive role, forced to clench his teeth and listen as his soldiers were systematically annihilated to the last man.
Zarbon cursed under his breath. If Dodoria was still alive, they wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place! Zarbon seethed as a wave of anger and resentment washed over him. Once again, it fell upon him to compensate for the incompetence of others.
He had long grown weary of shouldering the burden of others' failures.
Oh well, whatever had happened had happened. There was no use dwelling on the past. As long as he remained here, the other Dragon Balls couldn't be seized by force, and once the Ginyu Force arrived, the tides would turn decisively. After all, the Ginyu Force was more than capable of recovering the remaining Dragon Balls while he guarded the ones currently in their custody.
"Any energy signatures approaching?" Zarbon inquired of Guavon, who was seated before a large control panel, fingers deftly navigating the buttons and dials.
"No, sir! The ship hadn't registered any energy signatures larger than one thousand in a 100-kilometer detection radius," Guavon replied crisply and confidently.
"Good. Keep me updated."
Zarbon smiled slightly at his new subordinate's stellar performance. Guavon had proven to be more competent than Zarbon had originally anticipated. Even under incredible duress and stress, Guavon demonstrated a remarkable ability to remain calm and focused. Zarbon was quite impressed by what he had uncovered about Guavon's track record over the past few years—and he was not a person so easily impressed.
He had half a mind to steal the man as his personal assistant–actually, once this mission is completed, he would do just that. Kais knew he needed someone competent by his side, and such a talent would only be squandered in the cutthroat, dog-eat-dog environment of the Frieza Force. Zarbon could imagine the benefits of having someone like Guavon as an assistant already!
Because maybe, just maybe, he would finally be able to stop racking up overtime pay and actually carve out enough time to focus on training.
Or dating.
Zarbon knows his priorities.
Content with Guavon's report, Zarbon allowed himself a few moments of optimism before shifting his focus to other tasks, such as coordinating his soldiers' strategic retreat from various locations.
There was no need to deploy excessive manpower anymore, since his troops couldn't secure a Dragon Ball even if they found one. This battle had taught him that lesson. He'd be better off waiting for the Ginyu Force to arrive.
As he scanned the screen before him, an alert suddenly popped up, and a split second later, the ship rocked with a violent explosion. The jolt threw him off balance, and he instinctively grabbed the console to steady himself. Immediately, all the screens and lights flickered off, plunging the room into near darkness. Only a few essential indicators on the master console remained illuminated, casting an eerie glow.
Zarbon's eyes widened as he spun around, his mind racing with implications. The fact that the power was out but the ship wasn't destroyed meant the explosion had specifically damaged the energy core—a critical, well-protected component deep within the vessel.
"Damage report, now!" Zarbon barked, his voice echoing through the dimly lit command center as the other team members ran around in panic.
Despite the chaos, Guavon was quick to react and had already begun to manually access the remaining functional systems. "Sir, initial troubleshooting indicates a direct hit to the energy core. We've lost main power and are running on emergency reserves," he reported.
Then, mere seconds after Guavon's report, a second, more violent blast shook the ship, and the few remaining screens on the master control panel went dark as well.
"Sir, backup generators are off too!" Guavon shouted, now panicking.
Zarbon could see that. Certain screens on the master console were designed to be constantly linked to the backup generator to ensure the ship's minimum functioning capacity in emergencies like power core failures. It was a standard feature amongst all space-worthy vessels everywhere.
Yet, here they were, plunged into complete darkness, with only the faint emergency lights casting ominous shadows.
The problem lay in the fact that the backup generator was located separately from the primary energy source. This design was intended to mitigate the risk of a single catastrophic event—such as a fire or explosion—impacting both generators simultaneously.
However, for both power sources to be disabled in rapid succession suggested that this was no random attack. The assailant possessed intimate knowledge of the layout of an Empire mothership.
…like Vegeta.
"Guavon, find Appule and retreat with the Dragon Balls immediately. I'll handle the intruder."
"Yes, sir!" Guavon's hands shook with fear, yet he moved quickly, grabbing an empty bag and stuffing the Dragon Balls inside.
Zarbon dismissed Guavon from his thoughts and bolted out of the control room, his scouter scanning the entire ship for any trace of the intruder. As he sprinted through the dimly lit corridors, he readied himself for combat. Vegeta may be weaker, but he was cunning, which meant the Saiyan was not to be underestimated.
It didn't take long for Zarbon to pinpoint Vegeta's power level of 18,000 emanating from Lord Frieza's office. Zarbon's eyes narrowed. Vegeta's instincts had proven correct; Zarbon had indeed relocated the Dragon Balls from the office to the cockpit some time ago as a precaution against precisely such a situation.
As the meeting room came into view, Vegeta burst out with a scowl etched deeply on his face. The two warriors stopped abruptly and stared at each other in the narrow hallway, reminiscent of two gunslingers in a dramatic Western standoff.
Vegeta smirked, his posture shifting to a relaxed, almost casual stance, yet still poised for battle. "Well, well, well, what a coincidence meeting you here, Zarbon."
"Vegeta," Zarbon responded, his voice amiable and pleasant. "I'm afraid you've made a grave mistake by coming here."
"The only mistake was not killing me before I reached Namek," Vegeta sneered, his voice heavy with disdain. Then, in an abrupt shift of demeanor, he smiled as if greeting an old friend. "Seems like staffing is thin around these parts. Not even Dodoria is here. What happened, Zarbon? Your new PTO policy not cutting it?"
Zarbon huffed at Vegeta's jab.
"Oh, please. Spare me the lecture; you're hardly an expert at managing an organization or keeping people satisfied," Zarbon's smile suddenly turned sly, his next words tinged with a mocking edge. "The latter might explain why you're still single after all these years."
Vegeta's eyes twitched with irritation at the thinly veiled insult. He had NO deficiency in that department, and Zarbon was sorely mistaken if he believed Vegeta would tolerate a slight on his pride as a man without retaliation.
"Being single is my choice, Zarbon because there isn't a woman in this universe who could tame me!" Vegeta retorted, jabbing a thumb arrogantly at his chest. "But you're right about one thing—I'm no expert at keeping someone satisfied. But you are! Frieza must have trained you well over the years, so tell me, what's it like offering your personal services to keep that lizard 'happy'? Let me know so I can make sure it's on your fucking obituary!"
Zarbon gasped dramatically, daintily raising a hand to his mouth as if shocked by the audacious accusation. His face contorted into an exaggerated expression of offense, as if playing the role of a refined noble lady caught in a scandalous situation.
Then, with an abrupt eye roll and a dismissive snort, Zarbon dropped the exaggerated feminine pose.
"Oh, please. Come up with something original. I've lost track of how many times I've heard variations of that decades ago."
Vegeta sneered, his demeanor growing serious and his expression darkening. "Enough games. Where are the Dragon Balls?"
"I ate it."
Vegeta's sneer wavered for a fraction of a second before he recovered, a smirk spreading across his face instead. The opportunity was simply too perfect. He's not even making this shit up. The jokes are practically writing themselves!
"Hmph, so it wasn't a novel experience for you—oh wait, maybe it was. Given how insecure that lizard was, it was probably your first time swallowing something so big."
Zarbon let out a deep sigh, overwhelmed by secondhand embarrassment. He knew he had provoked Vegeta and instigated the childish banter, but at this point, it felt like he was dealing with a teenager. He resisted the urge to glance around the dimly lit corridor, half-expecting a crowd to have gathered to witness their immature verbal clash.
"Real classy, Vegeta," Zarbon muttered quietly, shaking his head.
There was hardly any point in talking after that.
Without warning, Vegeta lunged forward with sudden speed, covering the distance between them in an instant. Zarbon, however, was ready. He directed a punch straight at Vegeta's face, but the Saiyan Prince skillfully sidestepped the blow and retaliated with a forceful kick aimed at Zarbon's midsection that contained all of his momentum.
The blow struck home, and Zarbon slid backward in the corridor, his face contorted in pain. With a feral snarl, he launched himself at Vegeta, his movements a blur of speed and power.
The two warriors exploded into a frenzied exchange of lightning-fast strikes. The hallway shook with the clash of their bodies and sporadic bursts of energy blasts, while the ship groaned under the strain of their battle.
A sudden, powerful strike from Vegeta caught Zarbon off guard, hurling him through the air and crashing out of the spaceship into the wild expanse of Namek. The impact was jarring, but Zarbon quickly regained his balance, muscles tense and ready for the next exchange.
By the time Vegeta stepped out of the ship, Zarbon had already recovered, standing confidently amidst the alien landscape, his gaze fixed firmly on his opponent.
"Surely that's not all you've got packing, is it!?" Zarbon's challenge rang out across the clearing.
Vegeta briefly frowned, his brow furrowing as he glanced down at his Galick Gun Jr., momentarily puzzled by Zarbon's words. Was that meant to be an insult? Again?
"Your power!! Not your damn manhood, you immature Saiyan!!" Zarbon's cheeks flushed slightly as he clarified with frustrated anger.
Oh. Well, now Vegeta understands why Ginyu always mocks Zarbon's trash-talking skills.
But back to power... Vegeta's expression twisted into a wicked smile. Without saying a word, he loosened his tight control over his energy, allowing it to surge freely back to its natural, unrestrained state.
"28 thousand..." Zarbon clenched his jaws as his scouter registered the sudden spike in Vegeta's power level. A ten-thousand-point increase in such a short time was nothing short of miraculous, even for a Zenkai boost.
Zarbon's eyes narrowed with a hint of concern. Vegeta's ability to conceal such a significant power boost from the entire Frieza Force until now wasn't just impressive; it was dangerous. Zarbon's power level was only somewhat lower than Vegeta's current level, so he knew he had to end this confrontation soon.
The realization spurred Zarbon into action, but Vegeta was simply faster.
The Saiyan Prince blurred across the clearing, his fist shooting out in a haymaker aimed directly at Zarbon's defenses. Zarbon reacted swiftly, bracing himself to absorb the blow, but at the last possible second, moments before impact, Vegeta spun with lightning speed, twisting his body 360 degrees.
In that split second, the haymaker transformed into a devastating backhand, catching Zarbon off guard. Vegeta's hand connected with brutal force, slamming into Zarbon's jaws with a resounding crack.
The impact sent Zarbon sliding across the rugged terrain, his foot gouging deep trenches in the earth. Despite the force of the blow, he swiftly regained his balance, knowing Vegeta was already rushing him.
With a calculated move, Zarbon struck back, his leg snapping up in a swift, precise kick. His timing was flawless, and the blow landed squarely on Vegeta's chin, snapping the Saiyan's head backward from the force.
Vegeta stumbled a little, his momentum briefly halted, and a faint trickle of blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. But it would take far more than that to defeat Vegeta.
Vegeta's eyes snapped open, and with lightning speed, he had his arms wrapped around Zarbon's offending leg with a vice-like grip. He then hoisted Zarbon into the air and began spinning faster and faster, building momentum with every rotation.
With a mighty roar, Vegeta slammed Zarbon into the unforgiving ground, the impact shattering the earth beneath them. The force of the collision sent shockwaves through the terrain, leaving a crater in its wake as debris scattered in all directions.
Zarbon was left stunned.
Standing over his momentarily incapacitated opponent, Vegeta wasted no time readying his next attack. White energy coalesced around him, crackling as it condensed into a menacing orb of great destructive potential in his palm.
Vegeta smirked.
"Here's an original attack for you—Bang Attack!" he shouted triumphantly.
Vegeta released the concentrated energy ball just two feet away from Zarbon, who was too stunned to dodge in time. The blast hit Zarbon head-on, engulfing him in a blinding flash of light and raw explosive force.
Vegeta immediately leaped backward to avoid the expanding explosion. As he landed, small rocks and debris pelted his face, though his Ki sense and eyes remained firmly locked onto the epicenter. Smoke and dust billowed from the impact site, momentarily obscuring his view.
Even though Vegeta knew Zarbon hadn't been defeated yet, he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and satisfaction. For the longest time, Zarbon had been an opponent Vegeta could not hope to challenge without his Oozaru form. Now, the battle felt almost easy.
Thrilled by the shift in their dynamic, Vegeta burst into a deep, hearty laugh. The sense of progress was intoxicating!
Oh, and he definitely needed to work on the name of that attack. It had sounded much better in his head.
Without warning, a small blast zoomed from the dissipating dust cloud. Vegeta casually tilted his head to the side, narrowly evading the projectile as it sped past him. The blast streaked harmlessly into the distance, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake.
From the settling dust emerged Zarbon, not severely injured but not unscathed either. The Zarbon's armor was cracked in several places and faint burns marred his once flawless appearance, but the fire in his eyes blazed undiminished.
Tilting his head upward to the sky, Zarbon flipped his long, flowing hair behind him in a single fluid motion, securing it into a neat ponytail. He exhaled deeply and gazed back downward with a focused expression.
If any female members of the Frieza Force had been present, they surely would have swooned at the sight of Zarbon's cool presence.
However, Vegeta, being an entirely straight male, remained thoroughly unimpressed.
As he adjusted his stance, Zarbon felt the familiar tension of a life-or-death battle settle upon him. Vegeta had proven to be more formidable than he had anticipated, and any illusions of an easy victory had long been shattered. It was now clear that he could ill afford to underestimate the Saiyan Prince any longer.
The truth is, time was a cruel mistress as always, and she was not on Zarbon's side. He knew he could no longer afford to play around, especially with Nappa's whereabouts still uncertain after the battle. There always was the unsettling possibility that the former Saiyan General might be lurking nearby, having rushed here to bide for the perfect moment to strike.
After all, the sheer speed with which Nappa had annihilated his forces had sent a chilling message to Zarbon: this was not the same Nappa he once knew. The true extent of Nappa's strength after his Zenkai remained shrouded in mystery, which made the Saiyan an unpredictable and dangerous wildcard.
And no tactician worth their salt welcomes a wildcard with open arms.
Now, it would bring some relief if Nappa opted to join forces with Vegeta against him. That scenario was still manageable. With his full power, Zarbon believed that he alone would be sufficient to take on a post-Zenkai Vegeta and Nappa simultaneously.
What truly unsettled Zarbon, however, was the idea of entrusting the defense of the Dragon Balls to Appule. Though loyal and competent in his own right, Appule lacked the combat prowess and experience needed to reliably contend with a foe of post-Zenkai Nappa's caliber. Unpleasant as it might sound, Zarbon simply could not trust Appule's capabilities.
And as for Guavon … well Guavon was exceedingly capable, but he was weak.
So, Zarbon knew he had to end this battle fast. It was time to pull out all the stops and get serious–deadly serious.
With a grunt, Zarbon's eyes narrowed, pupils shrinking to almost imperceptible pinpoints as he unleashed his innate power.
An inhuman, bestial roar bellowed from Zarbon as his body convulsed and transformed. Muscles bulged and contorted beneath his skin, grotesque warts emerged across his flesh, and his mouth elongated, snarling as razor-sharp fangs glistened in the light.
Zarbon's transformation caused his power level to swell rapidly, the readings on his scouter skyrocketing. They surged from 27,000 to 35,000, then 40,000, and continued to ascend with each passing moment.
Vegeta's smirk slowly faded.
As Zarbon's transformation neared its apex, a powerful shockwave burst forth from his altered form, blasting dust and debris into the air.
Having fully transformed, Zarbon spoke, his voice deep and scratchy:
"You're no match for me now, Vegeta," he declared confidently. "45,000 is beyond what you can overcome with a single Zenkai!"