Chapter 35: An Audience with the Prince
The air in the private Saiyan quarters aboard the Charybdis, Vegeta's personal frigate, was thick with the scent of ozone, polished metal, and simmering rage. It was a familiar scent to Kakarot, but today it carried a new, electric charge. He stood just inside the doorway, having been summoned by a terse, one-word command over the ship's comm: "Medbay."
He knew what this was. This was the real test. Frieza had been a display of terrifying, absolute power. This was different. This was personal.
The room was a stark contrast to the grimy familiarity of Outpost Gamma-7. It was all clean lines, medical monitors, and the hum of advanced diagnostics. And there, in the center, stood Prince Vegeta.
He had his back to the door, examining a holographic schematic of a star system, his arms crossed over his chest. He was shorter than both Raditz and Nappa, but his presence dominated the space, compressing it. He didn't turn as Kakarot entered.
Nappa was leaning against a far wall, his massive arms crossed, a deep scowl on his face. Raditz stood stiffly near the Prince, unable to look directly at Kakarot, his gaze fixed on the floor. The tension was a physical force.
Kakarot let the silence stretch. He didn't speak, didn't announce himself. He simply stood there, waiting.
Finally, Vegeta spoke, his voice a low, calm, and utterly venomous purr. He still didn't turn.
"The report from Lord Frieza's office was… enlightening." He gestured idly at the hologram, as if discussing a minor tactical footnote. "It seems a piece of garbage we thought we had incinerated has somehow found its way back onto the deck. An inconvenience."
Kakarot remained silent.
Vegeta slowly turned. His eyes, black and burning with a cold fire, swept over Kakarot from head to toe, taking in the battered armor, the new scars, the infuriatingly calm posture. His lip curled into a sneer of pure, aristocratic disdain.
"Look at you," Vegeta said, the words dripping with contempt. "Standing there. Breathing my air. After I personally put you in the ground. Explain this… miracle."
Kakarot met his gaze evenly. There was no fear in his eyes, only a flat, analytical calm that seemed to infuriate the Prince even more. "No miracle, Prince Vegeta. Just poor disposal services."
Nappa let out a sharp grunt. Raditz flinched.
Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "Do not toy with me, you low-class worm. You were broken. Your mind was gone. Your pod was ejected. We were there, remember? The logs were clear."
"The medics were wrong," Kakarot stated, his voice level. "I woke up. The pod was damaged. It drifted. It crashed back on PX-723."
"A likely story," Vegeta scoffed, taking a step forward. The air seemed to grow colder. "Convenient, isn't it? No witnesses. No data. Just your word. The word of a Saiyan so weak he was defeated by a tribal chieftain."
"I was defeated by you, my Prince," Kakarot corrected, a subtle, dangerous emphasis on the title. "Not a chieftain. There's a difference."
The insult was so perfectly veiled it took a second to land. Vegeta's nostrils flared. He had expected cowering, excuses, or blind rage. He was not prepared for this cold, articulate defiance.
"Do you have any idea," Vegeta said, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper, "what an embarrassment you are? Your continued existence is a stain on my record. It suggests I am… inefficient. That I leave tasks unfinished."
"Perhaps the task was more difficult than you anticipated," Kakarot replied, his gaze unwavering.
"The task was simple!" Vegeta snapped, his calm finally cracking. A flicker of crimson ki danced around his clenched fist. "You were an insubordinate fool, and I dealt with you! You should be cosmic dust!"
"And yet, here I am," Kakarot said, spreading his hands slightly. "By Lord Frieza's own decree. He seemed… amused by the situation. Particularly by the discrepancy in our reports."
He had played the card. The Frieza card.
Vegeta froze. The ki around his fist vanished. A look of pure, unadulterated hatred, deeper and more personal than anything he had shown before, twisted his features. He understood perfectly. Kakarot was no longer just a subordinate. He was Frieza's personal joke at Vegeta's expense. A living, breathing reminder that he served at the pleasure of a creature who saw them all as disposable puppets.
"You spoke to Lord Frieza?" Vegeta blurted out, unable to contain himself, his voice strangled with disbelief.
Kakarot didn't look away. His eyes remained locked with Vegeta's. "He requested an audience. Wanted to hear the story from the source. He was very… interested in the details of my recovery."
The silence that followed was heavier than any planet's gravity. Nappa looked from Vegeta to Kakarot and back, his small mind struggling to keep up with the political undercurrents. Raditz looked like he was going to be sick.
Vegeta took another step forward, until he was mere inches from Kakarot. He was shorter, but he radiated a pressure that made the metal deck plates seem to groan.
"Let me make something perfectly clear to you, Kakarot," Vegeta hissed, his voice so low it was almost inaudible, yet it filled the entire room. "Your… resurrection… changes nothing. You are still the weakest Saiyan. You are still a low-class bastard, unworthy of the blood that runs through your veins. The only reason you are breathing is because that purple-scaled freak finds your pathetic existence momentarily entertaining."
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against Kakarot's face. "But his amusement is fickle. And when he grows bored of you, I will be waiting. I will finish what I started. And this time, I will not be satisfied with simply breaking your body. I will erase you. I will vaporize every cell, every atom, until there is not even a memory left to prove you ever existed. Do you understand me?"
Kakarot didn't back away. He didn't even blink. He could feel the heat of Vegeta's power, the promise of annihilation. But beneath the Prince's rage, he sensed something new, something intoxicating: a sliver of doubt. A crack in the royal armor.
He held Vegeta's furious gaze for a long, tense moment, letting the threat hang in the air between them. Then, the ghost of a smile touched his lips.
"Understood, my Prince," Kakarot said, his voice perfectly respectful, yet his eyes gleaming with a cold, unyielding light. "I look forward to it."
He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, a gesture that was neither a bow nor a challenge, but something in between. Then, without waiting for dismissal, he turned and walked calmly out of the medbay, the door hissing shut behind him.
The moment he was gone, Vegeta spun around and drove his fist into the nearest medical console. The metal casing shattered, and the screen exploded in a shower of sparks and glass. He stood there, chest heaving, his entire body trembling with suppressed fury.
Nappa and Raditz stood frozen, not daring to move, not daring to speak.
The game had been declared. The lines had been drawn. And for the first time, Prince Vegeta was facing an opponent who was not just strong, but cunning. An opponent who had looked into the eyes of a god and learned to smile. And in the cold, dark depths of space, a new and dangerous war had just begun.
[A/N: Can't wait to see what happens next? Get exclusive early access on patreon.com/saiyanprincenovels. If you enjoyed this chapter and want to see more, don't forget to drop a power stone! Your support helps this story reach more readers!]