The Long and Winding Road
Chapter 1
The Last Night
King Vegeta was not a man to be easily impressed. As the longest reigning monarch of his people he had seen the goriest of battles span entire worlds many times over, leading several of them in fact, and in them warriors that could decimate an entire platoon with nary a thought.
There were a select few in the universe whom King Vegeta would declare "powerful" or "deadly". The number of races as a whole he counted worthy of these terms were even fewer, most likely less than a handful.
The Marakins were most definitely not among these select few.
"And as you can- uh- see, your greatnes-highness, we, um… our troops that is…" The lizard-like emissary had scaly green skin and large, yellow fly-like eyes. Dressed in fine, orange clothing, portrayed his distinguished position among his more dully dressed kin. These troops in particular, wearing old battle armour, hid any sign of disappointment towards their political escort and simply stood on guard, much like King Vegeta's men.
Rolling his eyes, the monarch took a golden chalice of wine, held for him by a Saiyan boy beside his throne, and took a long sip, the sensation of light alcohol almost drowning out the fool's worried jabbering.
King Vegeta sighed loudly with satisfaction, shutting up the alien emissary at last, and handed the cup back to the boy before standing up and declaring, "Your army, Lord Bekon, is made up of some of the most disappointingly weak members in a large portion of the Northern Galaxy. They have large numbers, however, making them useful as little else than cannon fodder in a revolution against Frieza."
Bekon cowered, taking a step back before bowing on both knees once more, attempting an apology before King Vegeta incinerated him with a single motion of his hand.
No one so much as flinched.
"Now is there anyone among you, with a spine preferably, who can make me reconsider turning away your offer?" King Vegeta asked openly, a moment or so passing before a mind-boggling large Marakin stepped forward and introduced himself with a hiss.
"I am Sargent Ham, leader of over three thousand of our finest troops. I swear to you, King Vegeta, we are more than capable of dealing with the masses of Frieza's main troops. I myself could handle several hundred. Do not let a single, spineless dignitary stand in the way of forming an allegiance with us! It would be most unwise to turn away desperately needed aid, or bring our ire upon your people…"
King Vegeta calmly returned to his seat, retrieving his chalice from his young cupbearer once more and taking another long sip, Ham silently growling at the disrespect.
Wiping a trickle of wine from his beard with his forearm, King Vegeta roughly handed the cup back and ignored the creature's threat as he commanded, "Prove it. Show me your oh so mighty power that could end the lives of so many soldiers in an instant."
Sargent Ham grinned, cracking his large knuckles and responding, "But point out the opponent for me, your majesty."
King Vegeta looked around the room, seeing many of his statue-like warriors itching for a fight, some simply signifying a desire to prove themselves with a twitch of their fingers as they stared the brute down. The royal wanted nothing more than to put the Sargent in his place, even seeing one of his men do it would be enough for him, but he relented. King Vegeta needed to gain allies, and fast.
Frieza was no fool. He knew just as well as Vegeta that the Saiyan populace was not only growing rapidly but was also growing more rowdy as each day passed. They hated being under the tyrant's thumb, being treated like cattle. A revolution was coming, and the Saiyans would undoubtedly be on the front lines.
He couldn't cause further tension between the Saiyans and the Marakins, not at so crucial a point. If anything, he needed to make the commander feel better, give him something to brag about, like defeating a Saiyan of the royal court. That was always something to talk about.
But no one present would dare fake a fight, even under their king's orders. He himself expected no less. What would the point be in fighting a war if they lost their pride along the way?
Smiling, King Vegeta realized he needed another drink in order to gain more thinking time in a situation that was slowly growing awkward with his silence. However, when he reached for more alcohol, his hand found no chalice.
"Forgive me, sire. There is no more wine present. I can have more brought if you like," the young Saiyan cupbearer offered, going on one knee, eyes to the floor.
About to wave off the youth, King Vegeta stopped himself as an idea struck, a small grin appearing on his features.
"That won't be necessary, uh…" The monarch stopped, searching for the slim preteen's name.
"Yuken, sire." The child responded, looking up slightly, revealing dark blue eyes and a buzz saw-like hairstyle.
Ignoring the odd eye colour, King Vegeta continued, "Ah yes, Yuken. I have another task for you." Yuken stood, hand to his breast as he looked up at his king, unsure of what the monarch was getting at. The older Saiyan slowly pointed to a surprised Sargent Ham, the king commanding, "I want you to give your all against our new friend. Show him what it means to take the Saiyans lightly."
The Marakins began a small laughing fit, taking the situation as some sort of joke. When Yuken gave a nod and stepped forward, however, they stopped laughing. The situation suddenly seemed like more of an insult.
"A child? A servant no less? What kind of warrior do you take me for? Give me a real fighter!" Ham demanded, forgetting his place in the room, a number of royal guards scowling at the Sargent for this but remained still. It wasn't their place to act without King Vegeta's orders.
"Observe his attire. Isn't it just like everyone else's?" The monarch questioned rhetorically, gesturing to the boy's blue cape and black armour as the child walked over. "He's a Saiyan of the royal court, not someone to be taken lightly. Now, prove yourself and your people worthy of my partnership. That is, of course, if you're up to the task."
King Vegeta never liked this boy. Since the child's first day of service, there had been something off about him. His royal guard seemed to torment Yuken about something, but he never cared to ask what about as long as the king himself wasn't inconvenienced. Still, somehow, the brat peeved him to no end with his mannerisms. So obedient and quiet, no lust for battle in those eyes.
"Oh and by the way," King Vegeta began as the combatants entered fighting stances, the larger of the two seemingly taking the battle more seriously now. "This will be a fight to the death, so I suggest neither of you hold back."
Doing away with one more weakling was no skin off his back.
The child and brute stared each other down, both their tails twitching in anticipation. Not waiting for any sort of signal, Ham jumped in with a yell, hitting the child square in the gut. Yuken fell over immediately afterwards, clutching his abdomen and spit flying from his mouth as his opponent took a step back, shaking his head.
The child slowly wobbled back onto his feet, the Marakins cheering their Sargent on as Yuken retaliated with a fist reeled back, the Sargent predicting the incoming punch easily and stepping to the side, bringing up his knee just in time to strike the youth in the stomach again, Yuken almost vomiting as he fell to the ground once more.
Placing his foot on the Saiyan's head, Ham turned to King Vegeta and inquired, "This is the epitome of your species? Pathetic."
King Vegeta was not impressed, none of the Saiyans were. Going so far as to stand up from his chair, the monarch demanded, "Boy, stop fooling around! I said take this fight seriously!"
Raising an eyebrow, Ham was caught off-guard when Yuken abruptly burst into the air, landing an upwards punch on the alien's jaw. The lizard-like brute found himself shuddering in pain once more as a kick landed in the center of his chest, the alien hoping it wouldn't cave in under the sudden force.
Struggling to breathe and hobbling backwards, Ham felt several hands from his group helping him stand. Pulling away from his allies, the Sargent wiped the spittle from his mouth to see his opponent waiting patiently in the center of the room, unfazed by the monster's earlier attacks.
Growling, Sargent Ham declared, "You caught me off-guard with your little act before, but now you're going to see what I can really do!"
The creature began to power up, a bright purple glow enveloping his muscular form, his fists clenched as he drew upon his power reserves. Screaming as his ki reached its max, Ham's attempt to power up was abruptly cut short, a blow to the stomach that making him bowl over in agony. Yuken slowly retracted his fist to find a permanent mark in the green brute's abdominals.
Coming face to face with the Sargent's bug-like, now bulging and teary eyes, Yuken simply maintained his angry stare as the creature gasped in torment.
"Finish him already," King Vegeta ordered, chin resting on his palm and none too pleased with this turn of events.
Complying, the adolescent raised his palm and prepared a small ball of white ki, a blast erupting upwards from it soon after and engulfing Ham's head.
The Sargent's body fell over a moment later, his corpse's neck still charred and smoking.
The room was silent for a few seconds, the Marakins unable to comprehend their Sargent had lost so easily to a child. Many of the lizard-like aliens recoiled in fear while others clenched their fists in anger. Yet, none moved towards the monstrous child.
"I've seen enough. You can all leave now," King Vegeta stated in a gruff tone, the Marakin warriors not so much as bowing before they left, only one soldier caring to carry their higher-up's body away.
Once all the aliens had left, the room grew silent, a slight tension growing in the air as Yuken remained in his spot, awaiting any further orders.
Giving a small growl, the king commanded, "You've done enough for today, child. Leave my sight."
Yuken gave a simple bow and left without saying a word, the child's calm attitude truly beginning to wear thin on the king's patience.
"Chicory," King Vegeta said the moment Yuken exited, gaining the attention of the guard to his left.
"My lord?" The tall Saiyan in question responded with a small bow, turning to face his king.
"That child… Yuken was it? What is the reading on his power level?" The king questioned, intrigued to know more about this mysterious servant.
"Sir, the last time the boy's power level was measured, it was over one thousand. I believe it may have something to do with his half-breed blood, your majesty."
King Vegeta's eyes widened in surprise at this news. The eye colour now made sense. On top of that the general teasing and his own instinctual distrust of the demi-Saiyan.
"Hmph. It seems that this mixture of Saiyan and… what's his other half exactly?" King Vegeta inquired, beginning to realize how little he knew of this strange boy.
"We're… not sure your majesty. No one has pried that far deeply into the boy's personal matters, to put it lightly," Chicory answered truthfully, thinking back himself to the number of times he mocked the child for his heritage.
"Whatever his other half is, it seems to have given him an advantage in power. To be so much stronger than other children his age…" Vegeta paused, thinking things over.
While not as impressive as his own son's power, Yuken's power was near that of a grunt soldier, something that should not have been attainable to such a low class wretch for years to come. If he could cultivate this new breed of half Saiyans, grow an army of warriors greater than what he had now, in two short decades he could crush Frieza and his forces like they were nothing.
But he didn't have two decades. He was lucky if he had two months. And the long-term effects of having a race so much stronger than the pure-blooded Saiyans could mean the toppling of his own royal lineage…
"I won't take any chances," the king declared, looking up and forwards. "I want this boy, to be taken care of. Discretely. He and his kind pose too great a danger to my plans. Kill him and tell the troops be on the lookout for any other half-breeds. They will not be the downfall of our race if I have anything to do about it."
"My liege." Chicory moved across the room, ready to spread the king's word when he stopped in the doorway when he heard the king speak once more.
"Borage," King Vegeta started, looking to the guard on his other side. "I want you to find whomever hired this brat to handle my drinks with his grubby little hands, and kill him."
"Of course, sir."
Smiling, Chicory left the doorway, glad they were finally becoming active in reviving the true Saiyan way of living.
The tall warrior suddenly had his thoughts interrupted, however, when a messenger pushed passed him and into the royal court, making the royal guard grunt in disapproval before continuing on his way.
"Your majesty!" The messenger yelled as he entered the room, rushing down the center before taking a knee and keeping his head down as he stated, "I bring urgent news from Planet Meat!"
"Well?" The monarch questioned, intrigued as to why such a backwater planet would be of interest to him.
"Bardock's team has been killed, sir. Our informants say there was a team dispatched to take them out… one lead by Dodoria…"
King Vegeta's eyes widened at this news, the monarch placing both his hands under his chin in thought. 'To send out one of his right hand men… I have less time than I thought… My son, forgive me for what must be done to save at least your life…'
'Oafs.'
"Look where you're going you idiot, or are you trying to pick a fight?!"
'Tyrants.'
"You better pay up soon or you won't live to see tomorrow!"
'Cowards.'
"Please, I just need a little time is all! You can take my son if you need to! He's a g-good worker!"
'Killers.'
"He sat there, beggin me to stop, so you know what I did? For a second a pulled my punch back, saw him think I was gonna let him go, in his eyes and all that… Then BAM! Split his head open! It was hilarious!"
'And prideful to boot.'
"Get out of my way, low-class scum! You should consider yourself lucky to so much as gaze upon the prince of Saiyans! Now move, my father awaits..."
'I just wish they'd all die already.'
Yuken was not a child easily impressed by Saiyans. The boy had spent his entire life surrounded by the loathsome race of beings, barely ever having gone off world and only ever as a lowly servant. He had seen the worst the Saiyans had to offer many times over, warriors that could disintegrate an entire group of soldiers with a thought and survive missing limbs like a cakewalk, all as they butchered innocents for sport.
There was none among them he would call friend nor ally. The number of the Saiyan race he counted as even half-decent was the same.
Walking through the marketplace at midday, the time it was packed to the brim with hungry, angry brutes, was something he truly detested. Despite the fact that he went even more unseen there than in the royal court, he could barely stomach the deplorable atmosphere of the monsters as they bartered and fought.
But the youth trudged along in-between the two rows of stalls and through the crowd, a brown bag slung over his shoulder and his face to the ground, determined to get to shelter before night fell and the true rabble began to stalk the planet.
Among the scores of Saiyans he wouldn't be paid any more mind than any other child would, not as long as they didn't see his eyes. He lived an invisible existence outside of the palace, something he was more than happy to maintain after early years of being treated like a detestable animal. He would watch the Saiyans and their boorish off world allies, learn from them and finally find ways to appease them, simply so that they would let him alone.
He knew better than to trust anyone after eleven years among the Saiyans.
Finally reaching the end of the sea of people, Yuken was greeted with a vast landscape of red skies, brown dirt and small, rocky outcrops, a house barely visible near the horizon line.
Holding back a sigh, the boy moved the bag to his arms and hugged it slightly before continuing his trek, the sun bearing down on the child as he continued to keep his face down out of habit.
Even beyond the markets trouble would often await anyone who wasn't careful.
Lost in his thoughts and halfway to his destination, Yuken was caught off-guard when he heard the sounds of feet shuffling to his right. Turning his head slightly, the child caught a glimpse of a clump of brown hair behind the top of large boulder before the owner of it was tugged back down harshly.
The child sighed, coming to a stop suddenly and turning to fully face the red stone and waited for the bandits to figure out he knew they were there.
"YAAAAH!" A loud battle cry erupted and Yuken was abruptly surrounded by seven, hungry-eyed thieves, each dressed in animal pelts and at least a head, if not more, shorter than him.
"Just hand over the bag and you'll walk away with a few bruises!" The apparent leader of the gang, a thin boy with a brown pony-tail and brandishing a stone knife, threatened as his allies slowly tightened the circle around their victim.
The youths all licked their lips, eyeing the dead-eyed servant's bag with unmatched keenness, their reedy tails swishing back and forth in anticipation as they closed in the circle and imagined the possible delicacies they would soon be eating.
Yuken remained still, suppressing another sigh.
"What's the matter, Snowball? Too afraid to talk! You should be with these odds!" The leader declared proudly, once again toying with his victim as he repeated as disgustedly as he could, "Huh, Snowball?"
Yuken doubted many people remembered the source of the nickname anymore, especially not this rickety orphan and his gang, none of them seeming to be much older than five. More than likely, they had observed one of the rougher guards mock the child as he traveled to his house. It didn't matter much either way. Yuken wasn't in the mood to play around with kids that day. Other days he might have toyed with them a bit, just so they could have their fun and then leave him alone. But not that day.
Sensing the leader about to pounce, Yuken abruptly raised his right hand and fired a kiai, sending the small child tumbling away like a tumbleweed before he came to a stop, unconscious.
Before Yuken could even turn back to his path, the rest of the children had already scampered off to check on their commander like frightened pups.
'Idiots. They'll be eaten alive if they try and keep friends on this planet.'
The young Saiyan continued on his journey, feeling the burning, angry, hungry eyes of the orphans as he continued his trek across the wasteland, tempted to look back but ultimately ignoring them and continuing forward, as always.
The rest of the boy's journey took until about sunset, nothing of note having occurred as few thieves lasted long on Planet Vegeta, no matter the age, and local wildlife had long ago learned not to even so much as look at Saiyans if they wished to survive.
Finally having reached his destination, Yuken looked up to the silhouette of a rickety, dilapidated, two story shack that stood above the ground, thin wooden columns holding it high above a long ago dried riverbank. The wood was slowly chipping off due to years of neglect and the beatings of an unforgiving ecosystem, the structure moaning and creaking under its own weight as it struggled to stand every moment of its existence.
The boy carried on, walking under the house to the other side, slowly floating up to the deck and landing with a soft pat, immediately retrieving a black bottle of liquor from his brown bag and holding it out.
Sitting on the deck in a rocking chair as worn as his house was a bulky Saiyan with short black hair and a thick black beard, lost in thought. The man sat, dead-eyed, looking passed his son and out into the sunset, his mind focused on memories of glorious battles from years ago.
Yuken gave the black bottle a light shake and the sloshing sound caused his father to flinch out of his dreams, blinking twice before reaching forward and grabbing the bottle from the royal servant. The Saiyan then proceeded to chug its contents down with his eyes closed as some the alcohol splashed onto his old, brown shirt.
The man pulled the bottle from his lips, letting the alcohol flood his system as Yuken stood silently, awaiting a response.
A harsh yet lazy slap to the cheek sent the child flying into a wall, the entire structure moaning and shaking but somehow remaining standing. Yuken sat up, suppressing the urge to rub his cheek as the burly Saiyan took another swig from his bottle.
"You were late."
A silence seemed to consume the world, the warrior soaking in his own words, almost looking at his son for a moment, before memories of glorious battle consumed his mind once more.
Yuken had left with nary a word, face down as he entered the kitchen to find it filled with flying insects as per usual. These tiny creatures, upon picking up the scent of a Saiyan, abruptly seemed to scatter in fear as the youth slowly made his way over to the pantry.
The boy opened the door and entered the large space, closing the door behind him as he closed his eyes and let the cool air wrap around him for a minute or so. Opening his eyes once more, the boy found the room insufficiently stocked as usual, only a few loaves of bread present, and finally let out the sigh he had been holding back.
Once Yuken had left the pantry, the storage space's shelves now empty, he found his father standing in the doorway to the deck, breathing heavily as he used the doorframe to support himself.
For an instant, the pair made eye contact.
"Did you go and eat… all my food again?" The baritone barbarian inquired, the bottle in his hand quivering slightly.
Yuken maintained his stare, holding back a mountain of thoughts and slurs, before turning away silently and making his way to the stairs.
"…What do you think you're doing?! Turning your back on me?!" The brute yelled, leaving the deck's space for the first time that week, his eyes filled with rage. "I am General Kale! I have an army at my fingertips, you brat! …No! I had them! But you disgraced, tainted our bloodline! I should have let you starve when that damned cow left you on the-"
Kale's left knee gave out, forcing the giant to the floor as his son reached the top of the stairs, the former general seething as pain traveled up and down his body, thoughts of murder and rampage entering his savage mind.
Yuken fell down onto an old mattress, his armour next to him and his eyes closed as he forced himself to sleep once more despite the hour.
After what felt like ages, Yuken heard what seemed to be his father finally getting back to his feet and immediately returning to his chair on the deck, most likely watching as the light of a half-full moon began to fill the planet.
Yuken lay on his bed, unmoving after hours, going through a mental routine of avoiding any ruffians he could when he was next in the palace.
He had gained the king's attention, and worse his ire, the first time that day. If Vegeta started asking questions about Yuken, it wouldn't turn out well for the latter. The boy just hoped he could continue his silent existence until his chance to escape without notice came. Even death was beginning to seem a decent alternative to living around the horrible brutes.
Morning seemed to come with a vengeance, light streaming in from a large hole in the roof and landing harshly on the boy's eyelids.
The youth's eyes slowly opened, the child lying on his mattress a moment longer before forcing himself up and putting on his armour. It was early, as usual when he woke up, and he would most likely arrive at the palace just before everyone else, hopefully with enough time to reach his position next to the throne and thus avoid any scuffles.
No one had spoken inside the court without cause since the last time the king entered and found the room abuzz with chatter, firing a warning shot through someone's head and sending a clear message about talking that stuck with his soldiers.
Pulling his armour on, the child let his blue cape flutter behind him as he turned to exit his room and reach the stairs. The sounds of snoring reached his ears not soon after, Yuken peaking down and finding Kale asleep at the table, a half-eaten boar-like creature before him. The preteen felt his eyes go wide in surprise at this, his father barely ever hunting anymore, but thoughts of nourishment soon overpowered his shock.
The youth picked off what meat he could and turned to leave silently, his father eyeing the child soberly for the first time in years as the boy left through the front. The Saiyan warrior felt the need to socialize, to talk to someone, brewing within his mind. By the time he had blinked, his son was gone and the need left him, replaced by a never-ending thirst.
Kale sat down in his chair outside once more, tempted to rock it back and forth but having the smallest bit of sense to realize his seat would shatter if he did so. Instead, the former general took the bottle his son had brought yesterday and chugged down the remainder of its contents, letting fantasies consume his mind once more.
The desert landscape seemed to have grown larger overnight, the poor morning light hiding the capital city beyond the horizon, but Yuken simply walked forward, knowing exactly where he was headed. His mind was already on autopilot, going through ideas and mannerisms of how to stay hidden. It had become second nature at this point, to turn his mind off regarding unnecessary things. One had time to learn such things after being alone for so long.
Yuken stopped suddenly, his brain alerting him that something was out of his routine. For a moment the boy thought he had forgotten something in his room but after a quick mental check he was certain he had brought everything he needed. The child stroked his hair and tail, finding no trace of dye on his hands. Still walking and attempting to remain calm, Yuken looked around inconspicuously, the realization striking him suddenly.
Yuken was in the marketplace at the beginning of shopping hours, yet no noise reached the boy's ears, neither were any traders or customers in sight. The stalls hadn't even been so much as set up.
Mind attempting to put things together, the preteen abruptly noticed two shadows at the end of the district. Yuken squinted a moment before gasping, the two Saiyans seeming to teleport in front of the youth, smirks on their faces and their arms folded as they stared the boy down.
Recognizing the two soldiers, Yuken took a step back unconsciously and the pair's smiles grew, the trio of Saiyans' blue capes flapping in the wind.
"No witnesses…" Chicory stated, pointing his thumb to the empty district behind him.
"…for the beginning," Borage finished for his ally, cracking his knuckles as the boy began shivering.
"B-beginning of what?" Yuken cursed himself mentally for stuttering but he found himself unable to stop shaking with such vastly superior opponents before him. Out of his scores of bullies, Chicory and Borage were the only two to find never ending enjoyment in torturing the youth, never letting a possible moment of causing pain slip from their grasp.
"Beginning of the half-breed purge of course!" Chicory declared, elated as he spread his arms, his partner simply shaking his head at the display but maintaining a smile nonetheless. "We're finally getting rid of you freaks, and we don't want the word getting around too fast, so we 'suggested' that the traders here take a day off."
Pulling his ally back, Borage looked down at a now truly frightened Yuken as he stated, "But since you've been such a good sport these past couple of years, you're gonna get some special treatment. Your choice: A free punch on one of us or a few seconds head start."
Yuken could feel his eyes welling up as fears and thoughts he'd long since tried to bury began to surface. The boy had always told himself he wouldn't fear death, he'd welcome it as an alternative, he would go down fighting if it came down to it to deny any Saiyans the satisfaction of seeing him cower… But seeing those eyes, knowing how they would drag it out…
Yuken turned on his heels and took flight towards the city, hearing the Saiyans cackle at his cowardice. Yuken didn't pay attention, adrenaline fueling his every thought and movement as he looked for some sort of escape. He had tried fighting the two before and earned a broken arm. He tried fighting back again and got a damaged vertebra. Then a snapped ankle, then a singed tail, then almost lost an eye permanently. Eventually, they had beaten the fear into him.
Buildings and skyscrapers flew behind him at incredible speed as Yuken attempted escape, knowing his pursuers were still hot on his tail. But they wouldn't try anything, not when others could see out their apartments or through the window of a bar, the only two types of buildings that really composed the city center apart from the king's palace.
If people saw palace guards do something like that, questions would be asked and if there was one thing that was hard to quell it would be the interests of a group of Saiyans.
No, the brutes would corner him off somewhere and kill him slowly but quietly.
A snarl reached Yuken's ears and he abruptly increased his flight speed, swearing he could feel a hand almost clasp his heel at the last second.
Sweat pouring down the youth's forehead, his eyes searched rapidly for an escape route. If he just kept flying around aimlessly, they'd corner him eventually. He needed a destination, or at least a distraction.
Every scouter in the city seemed to go off abruptly, Saiyans of all ages and sizes checking the advanced tool to make sure it wasn't broken, Chicory and Borage included. Being without a scouter himself, Yuken took advantage of this sudden opportunity and turned abruptly, his would-be killers noticing this a moment too late and grunting as they did the same and attempted to catch up once more.
Breathing rapidly, the boy's eyes scanned streets and buildings he'd never seen before at a rapid pace, looking for something, anything that would mean safety. Suddenly, a Space Pod Bay seemed to answer his desperate calls, making itself known in his peripheral vision. Turning rapidly, much to his pursuers charge in, the boy sped towards the bay at top speed, eyeing an empty pod next to a tall Saiyan as he fiddled with his blaring scouter angrily.
Landing with a loud thud, Yuken fired a blast at the surprised Saiyan, knocking him off the platform, and entered the warrior's space pod in a panic. Unfamiliar with the technology, Yuken began rapidly pushing every button he could find, his teeth clenched and eyelids shuddering as he felt his pursuers grow closer every second.
Finally, the spacecraft roared to life and burst off its perch into the unknown, Yuken leaning back into his seat and sighing in relief as finally felt his heartbeat subside.
Growling, Borage stared as the pod entered the lower atmosphere at high speeds, knowing they'd never get the child now. King Vegeta would surely have their heads for this failure.
Chicory, for his part, was not giving up so easily.
"Not so fast, you little brat!" The Saiyan whispered as he aimed and then fired a high-speed blast that struck the spherical craft with great force, damaging the exterior.
Yuken, never having space traveled before, chalked the sudden impact up to turbulence of a sort and soon leaned back in his seat once more, trying to come to terms with the new world before him and the old world behind him.
"At the very least, that thing'll fly in for repairs somewhere. Then we'll find him…" Chicory declared to his still disgruntled partner, both of them knowing the excuse would not suffice for King Vegeta. Their monarch would not tolerate any sort of failure at so crucial a time in their revolution.
Before Borage could say a word in response, he felt an odd sensation creep all around him, his scouter beeping ferociously and exploding soon after. Both Saiyans gasped suddenly, feeling the world around them become a furnace as they looked up and witnessed the skies of Planet Vegeta slowly turn a deep orange.
With a power unseen in decades Planet Vegeta was struck, the gigantic orb of energy burrowing straight through the planet's crust with little effort, swallowing up cities as it continued its war path. In but a few short moments, the ball of death had reached the planet's core, the earthquakes that followed soon after splintering the entire planet as if it were glass. Saiyans panicked, confused and astonished as their world came apart at the seams, tremors opening up deep crevices that reached to the planet's core, bathing the surface in an ominous glow.
Unable to hold the pressure back anymore, Planet Vegeta's core reached critical mass, expanding rapidly and devouring all that surrounded it, chunks of the world flying off as the grand finale brewed under what little surface remained, much to Frieza's delight.
"Look at it, Zarbon! Dodoria! Isn't it marvelous?! This may be my finest work yet!" The horned tyrant declared, laughing darkly as he soaked in the horror before him, imagining the screams of all the valiant warriors as they cursed his name. "Ha ha ha! Good riddance to bad rubbish, I always say!"
All still aboard the crazed being's ship looked on in awe at the display of power, never having seen a planet filled to the brim with such powerful warriors succumb and burn away so quickly. It was simply another reminder of their leader's terrifying power.
In a final explosion that rocked the stars themselves, Planet Vegeta faded from existence, the Saiyan population singed away like a bad memory and not even a single rock remaining as a reminder of their presence. Frieza stayed a moment longer, reveling in his own, awesome might as he felt a weight lift off of him and doubts fly away.
There was still some work to be done as no doubt a decent number of Saiyans were still off world when he attacked. Frieza would need to spread rumors, perhaps say an impossibly large meteor struck an unprepared populace… yes that would work. Any survivors would come to his forces willingly, seeking a new place to call home as recompense for their services. Any who were smart enough to figure the truth would be captured or killed in time, once he put a large enough prices on their heads.
'As long as I get to have my own bit of fun, the rest of the Saiyans can simply drop dead for all I care. If there was indeed some "Legendary Super Saiyan" who would come into being, they're most certainly dead now.' The tyrant thought to himself in delight, directing his chair to float back down into the center of the room below, a dark smile on his face as he did so. 'And toying with Vegeta and his little friends will be such fun. I may have just started the most entertaining game of my life!'
The laugh of a madman filled the halls of Frieza's capital ship, seeming to echo out into the void as the universe shivered from the ripple effects of the Arcosian's actions. The Saiyans were no more, a relief to some and a great obstacle to others. In time, two sides would be chosen over how the planet met its end and why the Saiyans suddenly had prices on their heads, it mattered little in the long run, however. Frieza and his men were the only one's recorded as near enough to witness the event, and all testified seeing an asteroid do the Saiyans in.
One being, however, would have told a different story if given the chance, an unknown viewer never recorded to have even have existed.
A boy named Yuken.