A special thanks goes to those tailed, female super-heroes for all their encouragement, and for just being cool!
Alright, so…this chapter isn't quite as exciting as some of the rest. But it is very important! We meet the characters, and learn what their situations are. And I go in-depth about saiyan bathrooms, because I know you were all wondering about them! Oh yes, and the story continues…
I awoke to the sound of the door being opened, and people wondering what was going to happen now. Two aliens came in and started yelling something at us. Though no one knew what they were saying, we soon got the idea as they started grabbing people up off the floor; we were supposed to get up and follow them. Did we land? I wondered. The two aliens herded us down the corridor, and I watched as other groups of prisoners were led out as well.
Travelling to the other side of the world is foreign enough, but this was positively alien. The first thing I noticed wasn't the look of it, but the feel. It felt like…when you take off in an airplane, and are pushed down into your seat, or like some crazy carnival ride. I felt a lot heavier at any rate. The planet must've had a higher gravity than earth.
The next thing I noticed was the sky. It was like a permanent sunrise from horizon to horizon. The sky was red. Not a thick bloody red, but a pale and faded one, just like earth's sky is a pale blue. It was a little disconcerting at first, casting an eerie light upon everything, but after one got used to it, it really became quite beautiful.
We were led through the city to who-knows-where, and it was something else. The architecture was strange, with almost no straight edges. Some of the buildings were dome shaped, some conical, all of them rounded or curvilinear in form. The city really looked rather drab, as almost all of the buildings were white. I wondered how anyone could find their way around; everything looked the same.
We were taken into one of the buildings, led down numerous corridors until we came to more rows of cells like the one we had just spent so much time in.
That's just great,
I thought, I'm going to be a prisoner for the rest of my life. But my prediction did not have time to come true as only a few days later we were taken and divided further into smaller groups—we were being picked for what work we'd be best suited for.My first year on Vegetasei was not very eventful. I was put to work with three other girls my age. It wasn't the type of work one would normally associate with slavery (unless you counted the fact that we worked unreasonably long hours with no pay). We worked in something similar to a restaurant. It was really more like a military mess-hall, but it was in a building by itself. I got to wash dishes, clean the floors, windows, tables, and anything else that could be cleaned. And I also got to clean the bathrooms. That, I could've done without. Saiyan bathrooms (that's what I learned these people were called: saiyans) were different than I was used to. First of all, there was no gender distinction; everyone went in the same room. There were no doors on the stalls, because there were no stalls. There were only short dividers about four feet tall. And there weren't even any toilets, there were just holes. Not dirty messy holes in the ground like you'd find outside, they were actually quite neat and sanitary. They were tiled all around, had ceramic edges, and were very clean because I cleaned them every day.
So here's the valuable life lesson I learned from saiyan bathrooms: saiyans care not a whit about exposing themselves to members of the opposite sex. Or members of the same sex, for that matter. Since saiyans often wore one-piece body-suit types of clothing, one would almost have to completely disrobe to go to the bathroom. I don't think saiyans cared about nakedness at all. Honestly, I think the only reason they wore clothes at all was to keep the wind off of them. But enough about that…
There were three other girls who worked there with me. We lived in a small room above the restaurant. The problem was, we didn't all speak the same language. Trisha and I were both from North America; there was Ilyana from Russia, she spoke a little bit of English, and Huayan from China. I knew a bit of Mandarin, but not enough to hold an intelligent conversation with her. But after a while, we all learned to communicate pretty well with each other.
There were no guys working here; it seemed that all the females were put into positions of service, while the men were given the more physical labour.
We worked for a saiyan named Caliph. He was kind of nice actually, compared to other saiyans anyway. At first I wondered why Caliph wasn't in the army like everyone else; because I heard they had brought us here so that all the saiyans who were stuck in minimal jobs could join the King's army too. Then I noticed how he walked with a distinctive limp. He must've been injured in some fight and never really ended up healing properly. I think he was quite bitter about being stuck in this place—fighting is really the only thing that saiyans live for—but he was a good enough character nonetheless, for a saiyan.
He wasn't the only one either. I didn't get out much, but I was able to learn that a lot of stores, businesses, and other establishments were owned and run by saiyans who couldn't fight for some reason or another, be it injury, age, or whatever.
Caliph may have been lame and "weak", but he was still a saiyan, and saiyans have a different standard for weakness than we do. And even though Caliph was a pretty nice guy and good to work for, he was still a saiyan. I remember this one time that I got into a bit of trouble.
"Kyotzuki!" he yelled. Caliph gave us all saiyan names, and that was mine, Kyotzuki. He was the only one that called us by them, though; the girls and I never called each other by our saiyan names. If we ever did, it would be like conceding our old life was really gone. Using our earth names was really the only way we had to hold onto our human heritage.
I didn't know what Caliph was saying right now, but I knew it had to do with the plates I was washing. Looked like he wanted me to put them all on the shelf, and it looked like he wanted me to hurry. So hurry I did. Now, everything on Vegetasei (that was the name of this planet) seemed so much heavier than things on earth, either because they were made for a very strong race, and not with weak humans in mind, or because of the heightened gravity, or both.
But since I was in such a hurry (and also because I didn't like to look weak in front of the saiyans), I took all the plates at once, in one stack from my waist to my chin. Not the smartest thing in the world to do, because I dropped them all, and they all broke. Every single one. I froze…and slowly looked up into Caliph's burning ebony eyes. I swear, I thought I was going to die.
"Ma-shirk!" he screamed (I later learned that this meant something like "f***ing idiot"). I tried to back away, but tripped on some broken dishes and fell back on my hands and bottom. Mouth open and eyes wide as he barreled towards me, I gasped as he lifted me into the air by my shirt, and ki-blasted me into the far wall.
Ki is something that I didn't really understand at the time, but I know it's what allowed the saiyans to defeat our planet so easily. All the saiyans knew how to use ki. That's what gave them the ability to gather energy from the world around them and shoot it from their hands, to move at the speed of light, and even fly.
I fell into a slump, dizzy from my head hitting the wall, and then realised that he had thrown me right out of the kitchen and into the restaurant, where many saiyans sat eating and talking. Many of them snickered at me; a few outright laughed. I hated that. I hated when they laughed at me or called me weak. I wanted so badly just to be thought of as an equal. But I knew that could never happen; I was, after all, just a weak, human, slave.
I had started to wonder if anything was going to happen in regards to the little incident back on the ship. I had already been on planet and working for Caliph for a few weeks. I was starting to think they either forgot all about it, or didn't care.
I was scrubbing the floors out front, two of the girls were in the kitchen, and I don't know what the third one was doing. Suddenly a saiyan walked in who was somehow different from the rest. There was just this certain air about him. He wore a royal blue suit, white gloves and boots, and plain white armor. Caliph rushed out to meet him.
"Atama, Corniss," he said, "tohra hui wa taq taw?"
"Begita-Beil id gnost hui pursati zuo. Wa kan shang brah wahid dan zhir tikkun."
I had only managed to learn a very little amount of saiyago, the language of the saiyans, by this time. It was only enough to tell that this saiyan's name was Corniss, and that's all I could gather. They talked casually for a few minutes, and then their tone seemed to get more serious. I realised that their conversation had turned to me.
Caliph exclaimed something and seemed taken aback by what Corniss had said. After a few moments discussion, Caliph turned and headed back to the kitchen, and Corniss turned and grabbed me by the arm, hauling me up.
"What?!" I yelled in English, shocked and stunned. Now what was going to happen to me? Then I remembered the saiyan word for it and yelled, "Torakh, torakh?!" There were a lot of sounds in the saiyan language that we didn't have in English, and this word was a little difficult for me. The "r" was said from the back of the throat; a low, growling sound. The "kh" was similar to the sound in the German word "nacht".
Corniss did not reply to me as he hauled me out the door and down the street. He had such a vice-grip on my arm, holding it above the elbow, and I soon began to lose all feeling in it.
We walked into another building, one very ornately decorated, and through many winding corridors. We came to a huge set of double doors, complete with a pair of guards standing alert on either side. I breathed a sigh of relief when we didn't go in those doors and continued down another corridor. Where was I being taken? I wondered.
We came to another set of double doors, smaller this time. Entering, I saw a large hall with a few long tables as well as some smaller ones. Only about one quarter of the seats were filled. It was a dining room, or rather a banquet hall, and it was absolutely exquisite, looking like something out of some kind of gothic palace.
And it looked like we were interrupting supper.
Corniss took me to the head of the table, and kneeled before the man sitting there.
"Wa beil, hura'at wahid wa dhikr," he said, eyes cast to the floor and his fist upon his chest in a sign of supplication and respect. This guy had to be someone important. He was dressed similar to Corniss; royal blue suit, white gloves and boots. His armor wasn't plain though, it was white with gold accents, and some sort of insignia on the breast. He was also wearing a cape, red underneath and blue on top. He radiated a type of charisma and control that even the bravest warrior would find daunting. Seated to his right was someone who could only be this man's son, they looked so much alike. He was dressed the same as his father, but instead of radiating that same quiet charisma and control, he had a look of pure arrogance, one that said "I will kill you all." I quickly turned my eyes away from him; I felt as thought I was walking on dangerous ground just looking at him.
I guess not kneeling before someone of such stature is bad protocol, because Corniss soon stood, and then threw me onto my knees, growling something. I sat there shaking for a moment, on my hands and knees, wondering what exactly was going to happen to me, knowing only that it had to have something to do with the saiyan we killed on the ship. I wondered how they knew it had been me, and decided that either someone who had been in the cell was somehow able to tell them, or the cell had had security cameras.
The older of the two, the father, calmly spoke something to Corniss, and after a pause and some electronic beeping noises, Corniss replied back to him, "Agni shirkyot, bhakti." I was still looking down at the floor, on my hands and knees, when I felt someone grab me by the hair on the top of my head. I was yanked to my feet by the regal-looking father (I didn't know what type of government this planet used, but he looked like some kind of king), as he stood up as well. He towered above me by at least a foot, and he seemed awfully powerful. Still clutching my hair in his fist, he looked down at me, and seemed to be studying me.
"Awa, taw tantra dhim, ba'at taw?" he said smoothly to me. His son, who was sitting with his arms folded across his chest, raised an eyebrow at what his father said, making me wish all the more that I knew what he was saying. "Tohra zuo shudra srakh kali sim taw huiji shiva saiya-jin?" he asked me, his voice smooth, like velvet. He studied me a while longer, searching my eyes, when he removed his hand from my head, instead tracing with a finger the side of my cheek and my jaw. I could feel my cheeks growing red and I wanted to take a step back. He smirked. "Taw gnost, taw yah'at tai faqir ba-jin," he said. He removed his hand, lightly pushed me back so that I fell to the floor, and sat back down. Waving a hand, he dismissed Corniss to take me back to Caliph's, and returned to his supper, as though we were never here.
It would be another year before I'd come face to face with that saiyan again.
* * *
Life at Caliph's had become very routine. There was virtually nothing to disrupt the pattern of our days as we cleaned the same things, day in, and day out. It was as though life had always been this way, and always would.
I decided that I didn't like saiyans very much. It seemed that everyone I met was cocky, arrogant, and stupid. Except for Caliph. Of course, the only saiyans that I ever met were the ones who came into our restaurant.
It seemed that this entire section of the city was part of a larger army complex, so all of the buildings were for the military, including our restaurant. And all of the soldiers were divided by class. There seemed to be a lot of segregation on this planet. There were 3rd, or Low class soldiers; Caliph would now fit into that group. I wondered what group he would've been in before his injury. There were 2nd class soldiers, 1st class, Elites, and the King's own small group of Super Elites, the most powerful of all the saiyans. People stayed mainly with members of their own class; I'm not sure if that was by choice or command. Probably both. And so each of the establishments in this section of the city catered only to specific classes. Our restaurant was only for 1st class and Elites. And I hated them. They were loud and obnoxious, cocky, rude, and worst of all, they laughed at me. They took pleasure in laughing at me and calling me weak. There was still a lot of saiyago that I didn't understand, but I was able to recognize more words now, most of them cruel.
It began to get so bad that I would do anything to avoid going outside the kitchen and into the restaurant. But I wasn't always able to avoid the saiyans. And they took every opportunity they got.
It went on like this for months and months. After a while I was able to talk back to them, but I would inevitably screw up some word, getting even more laughs out of them. I was trying to think of anything to get them to stop.
Then one day I noticed a strange phenomenon. There was significantly less people that came into the restaurant that day than usual. The next day there was even less. The numbers kept dwindling until one day, no one showed up at all.
"What's going on?" I asked Caliph.
"It's the tournament," he said. "Every year there is a tournament in which every saiyan who can fight takes place." I detected a note of bitterness in his voice, as I knew he was not allowed to participate. "It's getting into the championship fights right now; everyone is out watching them. The tournament is a very important part of the saiyan culture," he said. "Everyone takes it very seriously."
Suddenly, something began to dawn on me.
"Caliph!" I yelled, "I'm going to join the next tournament!" If I could enter a saiyan tournament and manage to stay alive, that would put me on an equal level with them, and then they would all stop hassling me!
Caliph looked surprised. "Don't be an idiot," he said. "Your combat level is, what, two? Kyotzuki, a useless low-level like me can kill you without trying, and they don't even let me fight!" he growled. I smiled up at him, looking hopeful, as though I hadn't heard a word he just said. "And you're not even a saiyan, you couldn't even enter the tournament if you wanted to. You would need permission from the King himself."
"That's okay!" I said. "I talked to the King before, I'll be able to do it again." I seemed to momentarily forget that it hadn't been my idea to go and see the King the first time.
"Kyotzuki," Caliph said, trying not to sound too harsh, "you can't get in to see the King. You're not a saiyan, you're a slave who has no rights. You're not even thought of as a person. You will not even be able to talk with those who schedule his appointments. You'll never get in to see the King."
He knew how badly I hated being treated this way, and he was trying to go easy on me right now. My hopes started to fall; maybe he was right.
"But…" I said slowly, "you're a saiyan, you'd be able to get me in to see him!"
Caliph's jaw dropped. I guess he didn't expect me to ask that. "No!" he yelled. "There's no way I'm going to try to get you in to see King Vegeta so you can live out your little delusions or get yourself killed!! There's no way I'm getting involved in this!"
"Please?" I asked, looking up at him.
"No!"
"Please??"
"No! Kyotz—dammit Kyotzuki, let go of me!" I had taken hold of both his hands, and was grinning hopefully up at him. He removed his hands from my grip, turned, and stomped into the kitchen. "Stop looking at me," he said over his shoulder. I followed him in. "Stop smiling at me!" I was wearing him down, I could feel it. I stepped in front of him again, looking up, eyes dancing. "Aarrggh!" he growled. "Fine! Okay! Just leave me alone, will you?"
"Thank you!" I yelled, and hugged him around the waist. "Thank you so much!" Saiyans weren't too fond of hugging, and he removed my grip and pushed me away, throwing me into the far wall.
"Whatever," he growled. "But I told you to leave me alone," he grumbled as he left the kitchen.
"What was that all about?" asked Trisha, who had been washing dishes, and only heard the last part of our conversation, though she probably didn't even understand half of it. I smiled inwardly, and told her everything.
* * *
It had taken Caliph a week to get me an appointment, and another month for me to actually get in to see King Vegeta. I wasn't exactly a high priority. And every day I had to wait was like torture. My heart raced faster and faster as the day approached, and I thought it would never get here. But finally, it did.