Disclaimer: Don't bother.

Empty Soul

Running

The sky was becoming darker by the second. The cold chilled him to the bone. If he was lucky, the pod wouldn't be frozen over, unable to work and get him off the hell that had become his planet. Their sun had died, cutting off their ultimate energy source, leaving them to freeze to death, and die.

At the age of only thirty cycles, having just recently ascended to the throne five years ago, King Vegeta glanced at his guard, Bardock, as he tried to contact any others that may have been left via his abnormally strong mental abilities. It was only them, they were the last saiyans. Bardock, his third class mate, and cub Raditz were his only company for the moment, at least until Fasha and Tora finished scouting the capital city for any others.

They landed, shaking their heads. There was no one else. Nodding solemnly, King Vegeta issued the silent command to get into their space pods. They had managed to intercept radio frequencies from some hidden world, trying to make contact with aliens. It had been laughable, but after tracing them back to their source, the messages' origin was a habitable planet that the saiyans could evacuate to. Unfortunately, they had been too late. Everyone else was gone.

It was quiet. As they left, before the King could enter stasis, he looked out at the deadly crimson gem that was his planet. His tail tightened around his waist and he shut his eyes.

He had to know if she got off.

When it became apparent that their planet was dying, some of the saiyans, mostly conceited elites, had stormed the palace, demanding the only functioning pod available. In a blind moment of panic, he had ushered the Queen away, as she was pregnant with his first son, and sent her to the pod so she could escape.

Hours later, much saiyan blood had been shed, many had died, and there were ashes of what had once been a body near the hangar, and he had no way of knowing whose it was, as the lone pod was gone.

A civil war broke out, mostly triggered by panic and fear; they had turned on one another. They had slaughtered their own kind for weeks. He had been helpless to stop it.

He had been forced to lock his people out, as their panic was only making things worse. He had consulted his most trusted guard, Bardock, chosen for his amazing psychic abilities, strategy, and scientific mind. Their last chance, Bardock had locked himself away, pouring over the pod's blue prints and trying to replicate as many as he could. As hard as he tried, he only completed seven in the time before everyone had either been killed, starved, or they'd gone insane and committed suicide.

There was one for the king, Raditz, Fasha, Tora, Nappa, his mate, and himself. It didn't matter though, they were all that remained, having holed themselves up in the palace, preserving what little heat and food there was until their escape was complete.

Nappa had, to say the least, freaked-out, and left before they could set the coordinates. He was probably dead or stranded in space. Not that the coward mattered at that point.

Vegeta sighed at he entered the command for stasis, his only solace being that he did not feel totally empty yet. Perhaps his queen had survived.

…11 Years later…

Tarble clutched his chest as he huddled himself against the wall. It was dark and damp and all he could think of was his brother. He knew they were in a bad place. Good places didn't make you want to die. Good places didn't make you feel pain until you fell unconscious. Good places didn't hurt your only family.

He didn't know where they were, or why. He didn't know why his parents had to die like they did, or why his brother had to suffer so much more than him. He didn't know what sunlight was, or if it was just another fantasy from long ago. He didn't know what happiness was, or if it was actually a real thing. Scared and sad all the time, he wanted to get away.

He didn't want to laugh like the others did. They were hollow. Broken. They laughed when they were taken to the room and when they were roughly shoved back inside, bleeding, and practically begging for more of it. He'd only seen the room once, and he never wanted to go back. Bad things happened in there, and he didn't want to face them.

Maybe that was why they admired Vegeta so much, he never laughed. He never broke. He was stronger than any of them, but Tarble knew he had come close before. He shivered. He hated thinking about all the times he had gone near the edge. He'd almost lost him.

They had taken him again. When they came to retrieve him, Tarble fought. He clung to his brother despite protests, warnings, threats, and shouts. They had beaten him until he felt a rib crack and dragged his furious sibling away.

The door swung open and crashed violently against the wall. The man tossed his Vegeta inside with disgust, spitting at the floor to show his contempt. He didn't really have a name. Everyone just called him Nineteen. Tarble hated him too. He hated all of them.

When the door shut, Tarble gathered himself and knelt by Vegeta. His spiky black hair was dampened with sweat and blood, and his messy bangs clung to his forehead. He snickered as Tarble helped him sit up, spitting a glob of bloody phlegm.

"Those idiots…I found it, Tarble. I know how we can get away, we just have to wait," he wheezed.

This was what he said every time they dragged him back now. He'd say the same thing when he was returned from the room. Anyone else might have thought he was crazy, but not Tarble.

"I know. I can't wait. I want to see outside, brother. The new ones always talk about it when they first come. It sounds good." He pulled Vegeta back to the small cot that they shared, and hauled him onto it, careful not to put him in any more pain. "Have you heard about all the foods they talk about? There are so many, and I bet they taste tons better than what they give us here." He knew Vegeta had blacked out, but he knew he liked being talked to about those types of things.

They gave a small semblance of motivation to keep going.

He curled up next to the older boy, and their tails thumped softly against the scratchy bed-like thing. Tarble hugged Vegeta, afraid that if he let go they would take him away.

The next day (as if they knew when the next one came; they molded together after a while), both were harshly awakened by slaps to their faces. Vegeta snarled as his tail bristled and he pushed his younger brother behind him. It was Nineteen again, the obese man that resembled a porcelain doll.

"Come on, monkeys, today is a special day for you two." Of course it was, Vegeta knew that, but he couldn't let him know that he did. He bared his teeth and growled. Nineteen sighed as he pulled a remote out, and pressed a small blue button, and turned a dial. Vegeta clutched his head as painful vibrations made him stagger. The collar around his neck buzzed until Nineteen stopped it.

He pulled out two chains, clipping them to the pair while they were preoccupied like leashes. Vegeta hated it. They weren't dogs or slaves, and as soon as they took their eyes off him they were going to be gone. He'd get stronger and come back later to kill all of the bastards that dared to mock him. He would make all of them suffer one day.

He swore it on his father's grave.

…

Another boom. Another smack as fists went flying. Another thud as a small body collided with the ground. He growled as Raditz taunted him from across the field. Kakarot had yet to best his brother in a spar once, but he got closer every time. He dusted himself off and launched himself at the teenager again.

Bardock observed them silently, not acknowledging his friend as Tora came up beside him with the old man. "Geez, do they ever stop? I swear they want to kill each other."

"Of course they do, Tora. They're siblings. Whether on this rock or Vegeta-sei, brother and sisters will always compete." Bardock's gaze never left his sons as they punched and kicked. Raditz pinned him and began to call him names as the younger boy squirmed to break free. Ever since Kakarot had fallen off that cliff, he'd been different. He acted saiyan enough, but he was more…at ease. Gentler than what he was accustomed to. It was rubbing off on both Raditz and himself, though he couldn't say it bothered him.

"Saiyans…your fighting abilities are remarkable, and at such a young age too," Gohan commented. He had stumbled upon them whilst walking one morning, and seeing how they had nowhere to live; he offered to share his home with them, in the mountains. After teaching them the local language, they said that their king had relieved them from active duty, and so they were simply waiting until orders from him arrived, if they ever did. He knew their story, and promised to help in whatever way he could. That was just giving them some stability for the time being. Besides, he rather liked their company for a hermit.

As Kakarot finally broke free, they went at it again until the younger boy passed out. Raditz tossed him over his shoulder and approached the adults, slightly winded from the excursion, his bare chest sweaty. "Where are Fasha and Okran?"

Tora chuckled, "She's drilling some kata into his head. I almost feel bad for the kid." When they had arrived on earth, it had been discovered that Fasha was pregnant with Tora's son after they separated from the king. Their leader had left to find the queen after figuring out she was on the planet. They had yet to hear from him in nine years. Their only message had been that their first prince was born.

When they reached the house, they saw Fasha watching her son as he ran through the kata she showed him, the toddler wobbling ever so slightly as he adjusted to the movements. He looked almost identical to his father, but with his mother's more lean form. She scolded him every time he pulled his tail out for balance.

"Until you strengthen your tail it is a weakness! Do not leave it open." The tot fell down after another ten minutes, having been going for two hours. She sighed.

"Give the kid a break, Fasha. Kami knows he's earned it." Tora laughed.

From his brother's grasp, Kakarot groaned. "I'm hungry… I think I'm dying." Their planet was gone. Their people were dead. But Bardock almost smiled at the life he had formed on the small planet. If only that nagging sense that something was horribly wrong would be quiet.

He knew his instincts never lied, but what could go wrong when they were surrounded by nothing but weak humans? Maybe the same thing that happened to his mate. An epidemic swept though, weakening her enough that Kakarot's birth a few days later killed her. The virus had attacked her heart, and it never got better. Those were the worst times of his life, but he didn't dwell on it.

He had what he did, and he was going to make it work. He was just glad that their people met the fate that they did before Frieza could get to them.

…

He sneered as his sore back collided with the metal bars of the cage. They didn't need anything more than that with the absorption collar that had been on him as long as he could remember. He glanced at his brother, who was doing his best to look unafraid, with his scowl and apathetic aura, Vegeta could say he looked a lot like him from what he could remember. He didn't actually know what he looked like. It had been a long time since he'd seen a mirror, but he remembered that if he got rid of his bangs, he'd be a carbon copy of his father.

Then he stepped out of the shadows, making Vegeta's tail bristle and a low growl resonate from his chest.

He was known as Gero. Dr. Gero, the head of the cabal and all of its sub-sections. He was a disgusting piece of shit vermin. He loved to experiment with Vegeta whenever he made personal visits to this particular underground base. He never wanted to see another scalpel again. Of course, despite the fact that he was, well, messed with more often than his younger brother, most likely because of his minimal strength and limited endurance, he believed that Tarble was in a worse, more fragile mental state.

Vegeta could fight it every step of the way. He could scratch and claw and beat his way through it even though he knew he wasn't going to win. Him though, he could do nothing. He just sat there hoping that Vegeta would return to him alive and that he wouldn't be hurting. He knew that he felt like everything was his fault. That he was somehow supposed to protect his elder brother, though it was impossible.

The bearded old fart leered at him through the bars, grinning at the sight of him. He had to say, he favored the boy. He was exotic, strongly willed, and alien. He was an infatuation of his. It was worth rationing a month's worth of food to have him.

Then there was the smaller one. If the eldest boy was an infatuation, this was a downright obsession. He loved to see the effects of isolation on him. Vegeta was the one he used for his more, interactive experiments as he was more physically adept. Tarble, however, was not as durable, and he was more of an open book. Seeing how the treatment of his sibling and seclusion rubbed him in comparison to the human children was thrilling. He was a psychological toy, and after today, he was going to take it up a few notches.

The members of the group clustered into the room before taking their seats. One by one, children were tied down onto the platform, and auctioned off. This happened annually. But this year, Gero had planned it so that his wonderful lab rats would go to him. He ignored all others as he waited for them to be brought up.

Tarble stared after Vegeta as he was drugged and hauled off. He bit his lip. Every year, they feared that they would be separated. This time was no different. But, he reminded himself, Vegeta had something worked out. Tarble simply had to wait.

Lights blurred together as his legs rubbed against the rough wooden floor. He focused his sense of smell and hearing, identifying who was where and where was what. His tail wrapped tightly against his waist and he waited.

The doctor almost jumped when he saw the coal black flame of hair appear. He waited for all other bids to go. "150,000 zeni!" The crowd stared in awe. None of them could top that. The caller nodded and wrote Gero's name on a slip of paper before gesturing for the next one.

The same process occurred, Tarble going to Gero at 120,500 zeni, and the two were locked in the same cage. Tarble was wary not to huddle next to Vegeta; for fear that they would be used against each other. He watched as his brother closed his eyes and extended his senses as he waited for the drug to wear off.

An hour or so later, Gero came in with two other children, new ones, as their clothes were not in tatters yet. Their frantic pupils darted about as they tried to find a way out. Fresh meat.

…

Bulma sighed as she tapped her pen against the desk. Her brain was fried. She had no ideas for a new invention whatsoever and she was bored. She was bored, lonely, and felt…empty. Like there was some better way she could be spending her time. Sighing, she brushed it aside and went downstairs to see if her mother wanted to do something with her. It didn't really matter if she wanted to or not, she would any way.

"Hey, Mom." She reached to grab a freshly baked cookie before being absently swatted away by her mother.

"Hello, dear. Would you like to help me finish icing the cake? I was going to give it to that nice old woman across the street. Oh, what was her name again?"

"Mrs. Charlotte, Mom. And sure, I was bored anyways. Hey, do you think I could do homeschooling?"

"Why would you want to do that? You have so many nice friends at your school. Why would you want to leave?" She bent over and pulled the cake from the oven, setting it on the cooling rack.

"Come on, they're all at least two years older than I am, they're all too stupid to hold conversation, I refuse to dumb myself down for them, and they all hate me because I'm smarter and the heiress to a major corporation." She counted off fingers as her list went on, rolling her eyes when he mother shrugged it off.

"Now, now, while you may be smarter when it comes to academics, there are other types of intelligences. If you want to take over the family business one day, you do need to know how to get along with people, as much as you may not like it." That had been her mother's most convincing argument by far.

"I still hate it…" She pouted as she grabbed the tube of icing and went to work.

At the C.C. headquarters, Dr. Briefs frowned at the report in his hand. One of his top scientists…there was something off about him, and he knew he was an excellent judge of character. The proposal was completely unethical and quite frankly, disgusting. He'd never been too invested in biology or bio-mechanics, but he knew the basics. This was wrong. Turning people into androids; he wanted to do it with children no less, under the assumption that they would adapt better. Quickly, he stamped "Rejected" over the heading, and put it on his secretary's pile.

Gero. If it weren't for the man's genius he would have fired him years ago and had him put in a mental ward for all of the sick things that he suggested. Unfortunately, if he wanted to, he could damage his company by a substantial margin with just his absence. Sure, Dr. Briefs was more mechanically inclined than him and could spot the flaws in any designs presented, but there were hundreds of on-going projects and he just didn't have time between business, his own inventing, and spending time with his wife and daughter.

He rubbed his temples as he let his cigarette hang from the corner of his mouth unlit. Maybe he should just keep an eye on him. He knew it wouldn't be long before Gero got fed up with his rejections and went ahead with his experiments. Perhaps he could hire an intern or assistant to keep watch over him… That sounded good, and then he could offer some happy-go-lucky kid a position in the corporation later if they needed it. The second he stepped out of line he would be out of a job for the rest of his life, and seeing how he spent his salary on tools and other things, that wouldn't be good.

He couldn't help but think he should do more though. But what could he do? There was no crime to accuse him of. He hadn't actually broken the law as far as he knew. His hands were tied. At the same time though, he felt as though he should go by the old saying of "keep your friends close, and your enemies closer." Either way he was in a bit of a catch 22.

For now, however, he needed to find suitable youngster.

…

Gohan frowned thoughtfully. His cabinets were bare and the nearest town was over an hour away. He didn't mind making the trips for cooking ware, spices, and other things he couldn't find out in the mountains, but he hadn't any money to speak of. It was going to become quite the predicament, feeding his saiyan guests…

"What's with the face?" Raditz asked as he came in. While Kakarot thought of this man as an elder, even grandfather to be respected and cherished, he wasn't so sure. There was no malice or dislike between them; they simply didn't know how to interact, so they stuck with casual and a hint of sarcasm.

"Oh, don't worry about it. We just might have to cut back on food until I find a way to earn some money." Momentary horror flashed in the teen's eyes before he gathered himself. The thought of less food was unbearable.

"We can just hunt and fish. Geez, don't burn a fuse," he sneered as he crossed his arms.

"Raditz, we can't live off of just meat. We need a solution to this problem."

Bardock paused as we passed the open window, catching the tail-end of the discussion. He frowned. They had been imposing on the old man…he felt guilty about it. Perhaps…

Eh, so long as it wasn't him.

He went around to the front of the small hut, and leaned inside. What the old man said was true, especially if his friends planned on having more cubs. "Raditz, you will find yourself a…job." The word was unfamiliar, but the message was clear. "Gohan is correct, and since you seem to have the most amount of time not training, I believe you may as well do something useful."

He resisted the urge to smirk as his cub openly gaped at him. True, it was bizarre and a tad humiliating. A saiyan getting a human occupation and fretting about currency? He didn't blame him. "What? You cannot be serious! How-I refuse to lower myself to do humans' work!"

"Raditz, honestly, it would serve you well to be taken a notch or two down. You're becoming cocky in your spars with Kakarot. That will be your downfall. It shouldn't be hard for you; you're not a complete idiot… Although, I do think you may need to cut your hair to look, how these people say...professional"

His eyes widened and he took a defensive step back, grabbing his precious locks by his youthful bangs. "Absolutely not! There is no way in hell you are cutting my hair!"

Bardock chuckled lightly. "Of course not, son. That would be far too much. Still, you will find this human 'work' in the morning." With that he left, leaving his eldest to fume.

Gohan rested a hand upon his shoulder, smirking. "Work brings one humility and-"

"Shut it, you geezer!" Raditz stormed out to find Tora. He needed to pound something.

Something big, strong, and made of flesh and bone.

A/N: I think that this intro kicks ass in comparison to Rise and Fall. I know a lot of you guys liked that one, but I didn't really.

Warning: Super-long A/N.

Okay, Okran is an OC I don't care about and will hardly be mentioned at all. He will have a few minor roles. I am not going to focus on him at all so don't worry about a Mary Sue. Yes, his name is a play on okra.

Oh and, this is a list of their ages, just to bring you guys up to speed.

Vegeta: 11

Tarble: 7

Bulma: 9

Goku: 5

Raditz: 16

Okran: I don't know. Like, 3? Do you really care that much? I don't. I don't because he is insignificant. Does not matter. At. All. No Mary-sue! I swear!