Chapter 17: The Ginyu Special
Time became a viscous, syrupy thing in the grim sterility of the outpost's medical bay. It was measured not in minutes, but in the agonizingly slow crawl of digits on a vitals monitor, in the faint, rhythmic gurgle of the regeneration tank's pumps, and in the tense, silent vigil of the two Saiyan elites standing guard over a brother they'd once considered a disgrace.
Raditz hadn't moved from his post. His arms were crossed, his knuckles white where they gripped his biceps. His eyes were fixed on the figure suspended in the azure gel. Kakarot's form was a ghostly blur, but the readouts on the console beside the tank were the true horror show. Lines that had been flat were now flickering with weak, erratic life. Internal temperature was rising from hypothermic to merely critical. Cellular degradation had slowed from a freefall to a precipitous cliffside slide. He was not healing. He was simply not dying as fast.
Nappa paced. The deck plating, already stained and dented from decades of heavy machinery, groaned in protest under his weight with each thunderous step. His massive hands flexed and clenched, the desire to hit something, to break something, to feel bones give way under his fists, was a physical ache in his core. The cloying smell of antiseptic and spent energy cells was suffocating. This was not a place for warriors. It was a place for broken things to be patched up enough to be broken again.
"The readings are stabilizing," Raditz said, his voice hoarse from disuse. It was the first thing either of them had said in an hour.
Nappa grunted, not breaking his stride. "Stabilizing in a crater isn't the same as climbing out of it. The Prince's blow… I haven't seen damage like that since…" He trailed off, unwilling to voice the memory of other Saiyans who had fallen out of favor.
The lead medic, a pale-green-skinned humanoid with trembling hands, dared to approach the console. "The nano-machines are working," he squeaked, flinching as both Saiyans turned their gaze on him. "S-see? The spinal column fragments are being… cataloged. The neural pathways are being… mapped. It is a foundation for the cellular reb…"
The station's ancient, rust-clogged PA system exploded with sound.
It wasn't an alarm. It wasn't a warning. It was a deafening, synth-driven, impossibly upbeat theme song. A triumphant, ridiculous fanfare complete with electronic horns and a driving percussion beat that vibrated through the deck plates and made the medical instruments chatter in their housings.
**~GINYU FORCE! GINYU FORCE! MIGHTIEST IN THE UNIVERSE!~**
Raditz and Nappa jerked as if electrocuted, their hands flying to their scouters. Power levels. Not one, but four. Immense, blinding, ludicrously powerful signatures had simply appeared on the outpost, as if they'd materialized from the void itself. And they were moving, fast.
Before the shock could even register, the reinforced double doors of the medical bay, a foot thick of solid duralloy, buckled inward. The sound was a shrieking, metallic scream of shearing bolts and tearing hinges. They weren't opened. They were violated. They flew off their tracks and clanged against the far wall with earth-shaking force.
Silhouetted in the doorway, backlit by the harsh corridor lights, were four figures. They were frozen in a series of absurd, theatrical, and utterly powerful poses.
A giant of a man with a ridiculous orange afro and a permanently grinning, vacant face, his chest puffed out, one massive fist held high.
A crimson-skinned humanoid with a white topknot, one hand on his hip, the other pointing flamboyantly toward the ceiling.
A tall, blue-skinned alien with a frog-like mouth, posed in a runner's starting stance, exuding an aura of pure, arrogant speed.
A short, pudgy, green creature with antennae and thick giant eyes, hiding behind the giant's legs, trying and failing to strike a menacing pose.
The Ginyu Force held their positions for a perfect, horrifying three-count, the jaunty music finally cutting out as abruptly as it began.
The lead medic made a small, pathetic sound and fainted dead away, crumpling to the floor. The other technicians froze, their bodies screaming with a primal terror that bypassed all conscious thought.
Recoome was the first to break formation, his grin widening to impossible proportions. "RECOOME IS THE FIRST ON THE SCENE!" he boomed, his voice a physical force that rattled the beakers on a nearby tray. He took a single, ground-shaking step into the room, his eyes scanning the scene with mock curiosity before landing on the regeneration tank. "Well, well, well! What's this? A little Saiyan car wash?"
Jeice flowed into the room after him, his movements a study in cocky swagger. "Crikey, look at this! The Salty Saiyan squad! All present and accounted for. Well, almost all." His sharp, white grin was a predator's. "Where's the little one? Don't tell me he finally got himself squashed."
Burter zipped past them in a blur of blue motion, coming to a stop right in front of the tank, his arms crossed. "He's not hiding. He's right here. Looks like someone tried to fold him into a suitcase and forgot how." He leaned in, his large, yellow eyes peering at Kakarot's suspended form. "The fastest being in the universe sees all. And what I see is a mess."
Guldo waddled in, adjusting his glasses. "H-he's all broken! S-serves the arrogant monkey right! Stupid Saiyan! Always so full of themselves!"
The air in the room grew cold. A presence, dark and furious, filled the doorway they had just demolished.
Prince Vegeta stood there, having been drawn from his solitary fuming by the obscene energy signatures and the noise. His face was a mask of cold, regal fury, but his eyes burned with a hatred so pure it could vaporize steel. He took in the scene, the ruined doors, the posed intruders, the tank and his lip curled into a silent snarl.
"What," he said, his voice a low, deadly whisper that somehow cut through the tension sharper than Recoome's bellow, "is the meaning of this… circus?"
The Ginyu Force turned their collective attention to him, delighting in his rage.
Recoome ambled over to the regeneration tank, completely ignoring Vegeta's question. He reached out one of his enormous, gloved fingers and tapped on the reinforced glass. It wasn't a gentle tap. It was a percussive THUD that sent a violent shudder through the entire apparatus, making the fluid inside slosh violently around Kakarot's inert body. The medical monitors screeched in alarm at the sudden trauma.
"Just checking on the merchandise, Princey-poo," Recoome said, his voice a singsong mockery. "Lord Frieza wants to make sure his investments aren't being… mishandled."
Jeice sauntered up to Vegeta, getting so deep into his personal space that their armor almost touched. He was still grinning. "Heard you lot botched a simple pest control job. Had to put your own dog down. Messy business. Very unprofessional."
Vegeta didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. The air around him began to waver with the suppressed energy of his ki. "Get. Out."
Burter was suddenly just there, a blur resolving beside Jeice. "Or what? You'll give us a mean look? You Saiyans are all the same. So slow. So predictable." In a movement too fast for even Vegeta's eyes to fully track, Burter's hand shot out. There was a *SNAP* of wires and a sizzle of electronics. He held up the primary sensor array, a cluster of delicate wires and probes that had been monitoring Kakarot's brain stem activity. He crushed it in his fist like it was dry leaves.
The central monitor let out a long, continuous, piercing shriek. The line for neurological activity went flat.
**VITAL SYSTEMS FAILURE. NEURAL SHUTDOWN IMMINENT.**
The sound was a physical ice pick driven into the room. Raditz took an involuntary step forward, a strangled cry caught in his throat. Nappa's fists were clenched so tight the joints in his armor creaked.
Recoome laughed, a booming, idiot sound that drowned out the alarm. "Whoops! Clumsy me! Hope the little guy didn't need that!" He leaned down, putting his face close to Vegeta's, his grin never fading. "You know, our orders are just to check in. File a report. But if we saw that the patient took a sudden turn for the worse… well, that'd just be a footnote, wouldn't it? An unfortunate accident."
The threat hung in the air, naked and brutal. They weren't just mocking them. They were letting them know they could snuff out Kakarot's life, and likely theirs, on a whim, and face no consequences.
The Ginyu Force held the silence for a moment, basking in the helpless, hate-filled rage emanating from the three Saiyans. Then, as one, they turned.
"Mission accomplished," Jeice said with a flip of his hand.
"RECOOME IS LEAVING THE SCENE!"
In a flash of motion and a final, flamboyant pose in the shattered doorway, they were gone. The echo of their theme music seemed to hang in the air long after they'd vanished, a taunting ghost.
The medical bay was left in ruins. The blaring, single-note scream of the flatline alarm was the only sound. The three Saiyans stood frozen, surrounded by terrified techs and the smell of ozone and crushed dreams. They were alone again, but the weight of their own inferiority had just been magnified a thousandfold. They weren't just warriors who had failed. They were jokes to beings of real power. And their prince, his pride flayed open and salted, stared at the flatlining monitor, the promise of vengeance now burning with a colder, darker, and more desperate fire than ever before.
[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!]