Author's Notes: this fic deals with certain themes that are deemed unsuitable for those under the age of 18, with the containment of graphic violence, profanity and sexual content, with that being said, the warning stands, the risk is yours upon entrance.
Standard Disclaimer: the great Toriyama-sama created the Dragon Ball Z character and properties associated with the series.
Unrelenting
Chapter 1
The violette glow seized the graceful incisions of steel and cast iron, the world afore them was set ablaze with the ingenious fire of branding and sqalms of scientific intention, its timeless iridescence of ingenuity and intelligence illuminated the expanse of mazes of curving passaging amidst the radiance of moonshine. The pair probed soundlessly throughout the remnants of the fallen obstruction, minds rounded towards the pursuit of an article, whose guardian would hold the very balance of both time and space in the the apex of its grasp. Their manhunt would continue until the assertment of time itself had resolved the perplexities of its guise, with revealment the location of the missing stronghold or of its location of final resting. The most inert fleetings of unhearsed desire had the dealt the ignorant bastard the most sparkling of jewels in the far corners galaxy. He had held her in the bitter grips fallen between the vestiges of shameless possession and heedless misuse and hadn't even dared courted the notion of her precenses of importance beyond the unsurpassable beauty and charm that had curtailed the waves of uncontrollable desire that surpassed the thought and coherence of the Prince. The charge Bardock had imparted on, could not be broken, for the horrific tendesties of the future, unearthed upon the most uncomfortable of bidding of mind and nature, had borne the wicked tidings of an intensely sinister nature. The eternal whisperings of doom garned more peace and honour than the quarants that would enstench the proud etchings of warrior grace that entranced itself inside the teaching of the Saiyajin.
He pained against the ruinous aura of the antechamber, delving upon the discernment so unusual in sanction, that it succeeded in jarring it's combatant beyond any foreseeable indulgence. The poignancy of the vision afore him had though wrought his being to the limits of utter revulsion far onto the frightening pursuit of escape, near the utter depths of mental inactivity, in abscondment of the unforetold frightening that this world, however delevent in moral and ongoings, would be pay by quartile of their lives of their sons and daughters. The nearly fanphontably prospect of the its inevitability of prospect revealed a remembrance coarsely imbedded in the far inerpts of mind, of that same world that had culled their own kinds, with no mentions of control or regulation, born out of rights of strength and blood and the the many that had borne to nearly untouchable standards of the unexeceded had had been cast away to commit their lives under the torturous indulgences that were their souls. Not even a world such as this should be deserving of such a cruel torturous fate. He shuddered against the dusted tiling of the ceiling, fueling the intense heat of disgrace and nostalgia, as his imaginative mind rotated symatically through the violent destruction of the world he had made home. The world that the tumultuous drifter had been welcomed to by arms opened, only to be ripped from by the single method that he had never deemed possible.
With neither the benefit of preamble nor provocation, the inhabitants had fought with the tenacity infused in primary foundation of their making. The valiant efforts of the greatest warrior race ever sired had been brutally upturned by a creature far superior in prowess, both in depths of physical and psychological. They had been outwitted, out maneuvered until they resolved to rely on the concealment of the hidden passageway, the tyrant had snapped them with his spores of liquid, gushing them with the spiked glints of his tail, twisted their gist less advances fullcircle with an enraptured fury of a charge, they were cornered shamelessly against the pale backings of the stone. Ensnared like fallen animals, the breath of trauma had penetrated itself into the nimble encasement of shadows, engulfing all who'd bouted against it, leaving the proud warrior race helpless and open. When the furried haze had lifted, the passageway lay darkened with blotches of both scarlet and fusion with the cool distentenation of blood of the ill taken.
The amphitheater was alive with the clamber of bodies stirring silently through its immense iron folds, centrallic minds were garnered deep in tedious preparation for its evening's procession. It stood with the fresh aroma of battle magic, just hours subsequent to Vegetasei's greatest. The myriad of sentient beings drove forward, standing straight and tall, they mirrored the moonstruck visages of admiration reared upon the faces of the sizable battalion, in wordless recognition of the man whose efforts had overwhelmed the Tsuri-jin, lastly curing them of their troublesome scourge. Chryshantha watched his self-satisfaction, deservant and true, rise subserviently as Vegeta bravely ascended his warrior throne for his first. The sweet declaration sounded itself listly, as it had been chartered previously through the far corners of the galaxy, Vegetasei was once again and would always be, an impregnable force held together by a king whose courage and wit would coherce the constraints of the civilizations before him, with the carelessly grace essential t the security required for the nation to rebuild itself into the vast, expanse less empire it had once been and had lost in the fleeting bearing of war.
No longer were they to be governed under the ambitions of a high chancellor, ruling under the subliminal enchurnments of a claims from the the unborn heir apparent. The sadness sweltered itself inside her young heart inspite of the collection pride shared throughout the chamber as Chryshantha watched Vegeta's wife, beautiful and brainless follow closely.
The unending tidings of war, whether rendered by institute of the Saiyajin or begotten by the riots of the Tsuri clan, had dealt the young horde the unperceivably sultry glances of adventure and camaraderie only to be superseded upon by the interpts of death and injury, to the gravest forms suffrage, and ultimately, preceding the bravest throws of courage and strength, the vindictive glower of victory had surfaced itself up amongst the ragtag bunch of thrill seekers. Most of which who were too old or too young, to be of the rightful warrior generation or of blood rights forsaken as requirement by the preceding generation of warrior goad. Those of whom had been slain in the burning inferno of righteous fire that had enveloped its caustic embrace onto the the expanse of the war fleets enst the battle against the bluish fissions of reptilian goad that were know as the Mashia-jin. The few surviving sites, colonies and slave worlds alike had rallied forth through the during the full extent of horror and genocide that that had taken the lives of many under the genocidal rage of the Tsuir-jin. Their forces had enumerated themselves to a point in which they had become more lustrous impediments as those believed unable and incapable were culled form their units, taken out of the gene pool, they had been outset to the farthest gips of the galaxy, they had built the empire back into the image that it had once been, with the stoic addition of the greatest forces ever sired. had been rebuilt their forces through the fallacies of a large arrangement of colonistic worlds.
She had survived it all, being chosen for a warrior status far above many of the numerous male comtempories of blood equal or greater to her. She had proven far more threat to those around he as being allowed to roam the streets free for the duration of the war, than to have left the unraft, the feministic tendencies to unwind itself in the heat of the battle. She herself stood amongst the barrage of warriors whose courage and bravery would be forever fabled ... She been one of the lucky, she sighed inwardly. One of the few females, alive and elitist to be chosen to be brought up amongst the King himself with warrior status, even the young Galatri Queen herself had borne her title without so much as the privilege Chryshantha had adhered to. It was by far no secret amongst the upper classes that the slight but sweet girl had been born and bred to upstage the unending feud that the Palloran had brought to an end upon the commencement of the war
Her hips moved against his as he drew her close in the sallow light of her chambers, hard callused hands drew roughly upon her sides, commanding the pitiless suffering to cease, for some sort of unimaginable prospect to entoll itself what far from the crulest of proximites had so denied. His soft lips moved over the voracious burnning ache of her sore, swollen muscles, slowly working upon her as a gentle relaxant as he tembed along softly over the hem of rouge and crimson. Her vapid depths of fatigue lay far deeper than any lengths of skillful teeth and tongue could ever remedy of. Never was it supposed to be ended upon this, without resolve or righteous fury, to be corned by a furrowed passionless union of alliance. To be given away as a simple harem girl is, true meaning hidden under the meaningless pretense of a sham of a marriage. He lay above and within, working gentling through, moving deep within her sweet softness, waiting for her unresponsive to reach its rightful absolution and entail her ultimate surrender to emotion and control. He placed both hands upon her face and kissed her mouth softly burrying his head against the delicate hollow Rough hands brought her upwards, dispatching her from lands of guilt and sleep, her mind cavorting through the dark harshness of reality, as his roved seemlessly over her body using tonge and hands to upheld the endings pressure where her legs met, bring his upwards and backwards, forcind out of her protective shell far into the curiousity of as the onward bound of her forward waves of release flooded through her writhing, trembling form, mentally detaching her from her life's situation.
.
The departure was instantaneous, monetarily carrying them both of them through the halls of time and space to the confines of their forgotten tryst. The initial discovered that the boy brother she had sauntered with through the imperfections of youth was soon to be forgotten in the ungiving hazes of war, trapped forever in the frightening abyss of intense hate and grief, in a war they not have played any part of, brought her to an unimaginable resolution. Burning through the initial thresholds of desire embedded in those first few acquired stances, she had taken those final vestiges of boyhood from him, and into her bed they plunged with the raging front that only two warriors could muster at their greatest. There was no forethought to any of their actions, dimly their mind conquered upon strangest awareness that their relationship would be changed forever, no shiftiness of thought could describe the aspect of truth entangled in those initial nuances.
Their clothing was stressed instantaneously through the unconventional hilt of the intransigent haze of lust that was strewn through the sidings of the dashboard, their passion lay dormant under the pretense of their youth like guises, now unlocked and fulfilled, pulled then through the point of no return. Thrusting into depths of her warm sex, mouth and hands cavorting every square inch of her tender curved structure against the hard barring of the training grounds, arms and legs trapped him, holding him within her warm barriers, safe from reality, safe from the world, safe from all, they had taken confort upon the eve of their very universe's downfall. It had been animalistic, rapidly heeding upon the intentions of those truly in want of one and other and those who taken threaded their change, indulging in what they so desired.
"That," she began sated voice echoing in the enormity of the room "was not supposed to happen,".
Sure hands manned upon the grounding, searching for the graphs of her tunic, a quick from release from guilt, only to be hindered by his penetration of unexpected force and desire. His deep thrusts rendered her useless to all semblance of thought and control, all admissions of guilt were lost to the man inside of her.
"She can not do what you do to me," he whispered hoarsely, long fingers finding their way to the salves of her soft folds, writhing intensely as he covered her silken mane of hair, turning sensually over her shapely curves and trenches. The masterful visage that lay entrenched in the torrents of sweet willed her to stay, to meet the unforeseeable rhythm that his blight implemented in her, ushering in measures of unimaginable pleasure and comforts. They crested together, floundering though a brightly tattered cocas of flashing lights of indescribable colors, the grounding sightings of naked flesh caressed the depths of both minds now one and formed together, they lay there together in the enlisted hue of contentment.
His smoldering gaze burned straight through her trembling form , he lightly fingered the deep puncture he had garnered upon her slim, the shock and abloom had centered itself impertinently inside her being, understanding the truth that had resonated in his action. His lips sought hers as he glanced at her whimpering form once, before siding from away from her spread.
"Vegeta," whispered searching for him in the darkness of the chamber.
Her grief stricken cry shattered through the silks of crimson and rouge, her rage resounding briefly through into the ears of the young king. She cried for all that she had lost, for what could not be hers, over a million processions of victorious ceremonies exacting through her mind and her inability to attain happiness, reentered, upon their return seeking revenge for her life's simplest illusions. This one was in which no power or authority would see her though.
Eyes darkened by memories anew envisioned horrific images of lifeless bodies in turn transcended the flow of idea and coherence, the steady progression of feeling overpowered thought and flooded into emotion. Pained eyes impertinently protruded in shock and sorrow jutted outwards, faces, distorted out of any semblance of shape or tone, were a stark admission of the creature's lecherous tendencies. The initial prospect of the possibility of the situation's prevention further haunted him.
"Please," the woman beckoned softly "we should go," she articulated evenly, cultured voice hardened to a whisper "Bardock, she was not a warrior," she attuned, "There was no way that she could have escaped".
She, he attuned was a token to all that his mate had once oversight. Not unlike himself, she had been a born world far away from the comforts and securities of his Chryshantha's empire. No different to him, she had exuded an astute brilliance. One distinction sequestered her. Her nimble fingers embellished designs with the experience of forty lives, even though she was but a child. The bastard sire of an unknown scientist and some exile, every equation, experiment came to her at such an astounding speed, that it was by far no wonder that she had risen to such high ranks at adolescence.
Nearly, he could visualize every detail of Ryanlie's delicate features. Masses of dark hair railing her petite frame, as her magnificent dark eyes amber flecked shimmered vividly, curvaceous mouth angled upwards upon their introduction. Preceding their alliance, he had had anticipated the prodigious scientist to exhibit some form jealousy when her position was to be shared. On the contrary, she had radiated no feelings of such, and had subsequently learned the little that could she from him, in turn incorporating that into her endlessly vast expansion of knowledge. Following Kaulaci's dissolution, initially it was concluded that the possibility of Rynalie's death was imminent, then insightful facets of information concluded that Kaulaci's national treasure was very well alive but in the most unexpected of places. It was foretold that Vegetasei harbored the most precious mind in universe, its prince using her as his whore.
He shifted his weight upon a broken table, hauling himself up in his desperate searched for exit. Large hands shook violently, as he attempted to dislodge the broken knob of his salvage. No, he was certain his mate was deceiving herself, and the prospect of the anomaly getting hold of the prodigy's skill still loomed apparent. Unceasingly, he jerked open the entrance so that it was wide enough to accommodate his muscular frame. Finally he gasped futilely as the colorless appendage of the tyrannical lizard tightly wrapped around the man's corded neck, cutting off the flow of oxygen.
"Why," he croaked, gasping futilely, handsome face reaching the verge of losing his emotional plight, as he began to question his survival, pondering upon the worst, the prospect that the girl was still alive and for the creature's taking. The man let out a grief-stricken cry chartered by agony and revulsion as he sighted the bloodied corpses of his mate and child. Unceremoniously the man slumped forwarding, his breathing increasing to an erratic tempo as he eyed his arms bend forward in an unnatural angle. The physical pain could not amount to his mental anguish. Upon the sight of his fallen comrades the man's inextinguishable resolve diminished, ushering in the unparalleled reality of the situation. Judging by the carnage that had ensued, in a palace built by the most fearsome warrior race sired, he was the only one untouched.
Kold studied the man's ravage features and spoke icy "If I can't have the girl, I'm sure that you are certainly an ample replacement." he jested listening for the man's reaction.
The man's face ebbed into harsh sobs of fear as he dawned upon realization. "No," he screamed, his strength suddenly reentering his ruined body "I would never, betray my race."
Kold once again eyed him cautiously "I'm sure that you'd like claimant to what should be yours now, would you not?".
The man supported himself against the side of his confinement. "What's done is done, the past cannot be changed. If not for Vegeta, all of this wouldn't have happened in the first place. Revenge seems like a fulfilling prospect," The man listened quietly, perceptive mind relaying the sight of the destruction of his mate's nation, the numerous species meeting their end, and finally of the man responsible for it.
"Wasn't it quite a concept, a Saiya-jin female ruling a planet, until Vegeta blew that into oblivion?"
Kold sighed as the man listened in near response, as he feigned upon the final incentive artfully "Give me your services scientist and Vegetasei is all yours." he hissed quietly, toneless voice impacting the Saiya-jin deeper than any call of bravado.
"Yes," replied Bardock, smiling unnervingly "All mine".