Summary: Vegeta's little sister, thought dead by the Saiyan Prince, appears on Earth shortly after the Buu Saga. Since the Saiyans are named after vegetables, Roma's name is from romaine lettuce.
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ. I am a poor educator—hear that students, I'm still writing fanfiction!
Note: I've pushed back the year Vegeta was born to 727 AD in order to squeeze Roma into the time line, so Vegeta is 10 years older than Goku, which is inconsequential since saiyans age slower than humans.
Chapter One
Planet Vegeta, training room #07, 734 AD
"You haven't improved," the seven-year old boy scolded. He re-clasped a red cape to his armor and, with a gloved thumb, wiped blood from the golden, royal emblem on his chest plate.
A petite child wearily stood beside him, wearing a ripped, dark blue leotard and small, white boots; her short black hair was slick with sweat, bangs plastered to her forehead. She bit her trembling lower lip, hyper-conscious of blood painfully trickling across lacerations on her palms.
"I will have to be harder on you," the boy said, crossing his arms over his chest. "We will train an extra hour tomorrow."
"Yes, sir," the small girl replied. She bowed and moved to exit the training room.
The boy cleared his throat.
With a restrained smirk, the girl turned back and limped close to her older brother, the prince of planet Vegeta, and standing on sore tiptoes, planted a submissive gesture on his cheek with her tiny child lips.
He reciprocated with a cocky, self-righteous grin. A stranger might expect the girl to feel contempt towards the arrogant boy, but she tiredly beamed with devotion and admiration. Hidden within her brother's expression was pride, not only of his abilities as an instructor, but for his sister's fighting skills; as mediocre as her level was compared to himself, her potential, even at five-years old, placed her above the Elite.
The boy quashed the affectionate emotions that were being unintentionally shared telepathically and said with a sneer and furled eyebrows, "Roma, I'll beat you into a pulp tomorrow." He sauntered past, knocking into her dislocated shoulder, and exited.
"Yes, Prince Vegeta," Roma whispered.
Planet Vegeta, Royal Palace, 735 AD
Roma paced outside the meeting chambers, hoping to catch a glimpse of Freeza—or 'the tyrant and enslaver' as Prince Vegeta referred to him. Her brother had been recently forced on two extermination missions by orders direct from Freeza, and she feared this assembly of King Vegeta, Lord Freeza, and representatives of the Elite would make Vegeta's position as a member of Freeza's personal army permanent.
Roma glanced at the two henchmen of the tyrant—Dodoria and Zarbon—that stood beside the doors, preventing entrance or egress. Enraged by the thievery of her comrade and brother, and feeling empowered by her full royal regalia, Roma marched over and peered daringly up at the pudgy, pink excuse for a sentient being—and stuck out her tongue.
"Little prick!" A fat, pink fist collided with her head and sent her spinning through the air. She slammed into the opposite wall and slid upside-down to the floor. Moaning, Roma opened her eyes to a pair of thick boots, which kicked her repeatedly in the ribs in the second it took her to cringe from nauseating and shooting agony. Her father, the Elite among Elites, did not possess a comparable strength and speed; the revelation panicked her—could this monster kill her in her own palace!
Death by non-action was revolting.
Roma caught the boot in her hands and twisted with all her power. Dodoria hit the floor and cursed. Roma righted herself as Zarbon chortled in the background.
"Fricken monkey," said Dodoria, lifting a glowing palm to face her. A sudden ki blast hit Dodoria square in the chest, causing as much damage as a mosquito to a human.
Prince Vegeta levitated down from the ceiling and stood with hands on hips. "Well, well, well, what pests do we have here?" he said, darting his eyes between Dodoria and Zarbon. He entered his sister's thoughts long enough to determine she suffered no fatal wounds and then abruptly shut her out [1].
Roma frowned at the one-way communication Vegeta had always practiced with her; she wanted to caution him, this thing was stronger than the King! Trying to voice her thoughts, she was overcome by a coughing fit, speckling the floor with blood.
Dodoria stood up and smirked at the young prince. "Don't worry royal monkey, I won't hold back for you."
Roma merely blinked, and Vegeta was lying on the floor. Dodoria appearing as if he hadn't even flinched, let alone attacked.
"How pathetic, she couldn't even see it," Zarbon commented.
Vegeta failed at sitting up and resigned to spitting blood and glaring at Dodoria. "Damn you", he growled.
"Ah, that must be the little prince," said an androgynous voice that made Roma's innards become jelly. Freeza appeared from behind his henchmen and lifted the battered Vegeta by his tail; the young saiyan winced in discomfort.
"Congratulations, you have been granted the honor of serving me for an extended and yet undetermined period of time," Freeza informed the prince and then laughed sadistically; Zarbon and Dodoria joined in.
Roma shrank inside. Their monstrous forms seemed larger than life and her mortal soul could not match them. They moved down the corridor to the shipyard. Freeza continued to disrespectfully carry the saiyan prince upside-down. Roma followed for a shaky few feet before collapsing to her knees. Into her memory was burned the last glimpse of her elder brother—blood-tinted tears streaming into his hair. Her mind steadily filled with his psychic screams—a terrific crescendo of anguish.
An hour or a minute had passed, she could not tell. Prince Vegeta's thoughts of raw emotion were gone from her own; the hallway contained only herself and smears of blood. A large hand gripped her shoulder. She turned up her bloodied face, and King Vegeta scowled back. Roma reached out for her father's thoughts, but he refused to project them.
"You will have to leave when you are his age," he finally stated.
"For Freeza's army?" she shuddered.
"No, to someplace where he cannot find you."
Corthone Moon Base, 766 AD
"Roma! It has been a couple years, what returns you to our humble quadrant?" The merchant nervously cleared off the counter of useless nicknacks and set to work pulling out his newest hacked/upgraded scouters and pod-ship equipment for her perusal.
The saiyan woman unfurled her tail from her waste in order to straighten her armor. "Don't waste your time. I've come only for information," she said.
The merchant's antennas lowered in conspicuous disappointment. Living under the radar of the Cold family and their affiliates, Roma seemed perpetually years behind in galaxy news. The merchant knew he was one of a handful of trusted individuals who, for reasons none of them divulged, were not compelled to turn in the rogue saiyan. He often wondered where Roma disappeared to.
"Of course, Roma," he responded, after putting away the items. "But, it may cost extra today."
"I'm sure this will give me a discount," Roma said, raising up her left hand that contained a pulsing, blue ki ball.
"Hehe, as always miss. Free of charge. Let me first happily tell you that Freeza has been killed! King Cold as well, as far as anyone can tell. Truly, my source does not know how long ago it occurred. Cooler has been successfully preventing this information from becoming common knowledge. Roma?" The female saiyan's eyes had zoned out. The merchant waved his three-fingered hand in front of her face and squeaked in surprise when she grabbed his wrist with lightening reflexes.
She grinned, eyes changing from stoic to manically gleeful. "At last, Vegeta."
"Vegeta?" the merchant questioned, futilely trying to free himself from Roma's iron grip. "The saiyan prince was killed by Freeza on some backwards planet, a planet that exploded shortly thereafter—Freeza's modus operandi, of course."
Roma released the merchant's wrist, stumbled backwards, and landed on her bottom, cracking the tile floor. Her bottom lip quivered; she bit down on it. The merchant normally never came across as a tenderhearted soul, but witnessing a saiyan (of all species) distraught moved him—indeed, Roma was possibly the last saiyan in existence.
He left the safety of his counter and, intending to place a comforting hand upon her shoulder, knelt beside her. Without recalling her reaching an arm towards him, he found his neck being squeezed by her petite, but immensely powerful, hand.
She glared at him with watery eyes. "Are you certain that it was Prince Vegeta who was killed?"
"No doubt. An ex-soldier from Freeza's army told me himself that he'd received the report from Namek. Seems the prince had challenged Freeza—gah, Roma, please."
Roma released him and her eyes softened. She gave him a nod and said under her breath, "Thank you." She laid a handful of golden chips on the counter and exited.
Having collected his breath, the merchant cautiously followed, finding Roma only a few feet from the entrance, staring into the lavender night sky lightly illuminated by the gas planet it orbited. He commented sympathetically, "I, too, am of a species that is few and—"
"He was my brother," she stated firmly and blasted off into the sky, making a sharp right towards the shipyard.
"PrincessRoma." said the merchant in wonder.
Planet Herathet, 770 AD
With the Cold family MIA—though by now it was common belief all members of it were dead—Roma had begun venturing into territory previously off-limits. For the past few months, she'd made camp on the tropical planet of Herathet, which orbited binary stars. She traded her strength and skill by protecting the planet from raiders (commonly bands of ex-Freeza warriors) for fuel and a vast quantity of rather mediocre food as it consisted mostly of fruits. She felt cursed never to find a species that appreciated medium-rare meat as much as she and considered returning to her solitary existence on a planet filled with rather viscous, but delicious, wild beasts.
Although grateful for her formidable presence, many of the people of Herathet—native and foreign—kept their distance from the saiyan female, though they would carry on conversation if necessary. A few she considered acquaintances, none were friends, and no one dared challenge her, even if merely to argue.
During interplanetary market days, with the shipyards filled to capacity, Roma would meander through the temporary stalls of exotic and hacked wares, anticipating a newcomer to cry out—
"You're a saiyan!"
Roma growled and looked up from the propulsion system she'd been inspecting. A green-skinned man to her right stood as if caught in a tractor-beam.
"And you're an ugly shade of green," she offhandedly commented. In fact, he looked strikingly unique and curiosity tugged at her. She crossed her arms over her armored chest. "Identify you're species," she ordered.
"I am Tyle, a namek of the planet New Namek," the man said.
"Never heard of nameks," Roma said and brushed past him.
"We normally keep to ourselves," the namek continued, even as the distance between he and Roma grew with her uninterested steps. "I am an exception, wishing to travel the galaxy in search of adventure. Pardon my exclamation earlier. I haven't seen a saiyan for many years. Truly, I have been led to understand that there to be none left besides Goku and Vegeta."
"V-vegeta," Roma spun around. "Are you stating that Vegeta is alive?"
"Yes. He and Goku reside on the planet Earth. It is thirteen parsecs from Herathet—a three and a half year journey at the highest speeds."
Roma, in a flash, was back beside the upgraded propulsion system. She dumped a pile of gold chips upon the sellers table. "You will install this on my pod-ship. Dock 42."
"Yes, mam."
"And you," she faced the namek, who looked terribly regretful of sharing his information with her as if he'd become the unintentional instigator of mass genocide. "Tyle? I would like the exact coordinates for planet Earth, immediately."
He gulped, "What are your intentions for Earth?"
She gave him a sadistic smirk that he instantly recognized, "Give me the coordinates and I won't set you on fire."
At the second dawn, Roma's pod-ship took off from Dock 42. She scheduled five refueling, repair, and subsistence layovers and then placed herself in hibernation. She dreamed of her mother and father, of her pet razor-beast, of the blood red sky of her home world, but mostly of her brother—
1. In the episode "Terror on Arlia" (11th in Vegeta Saga in uncut DBZ), Vegeta does telepathically communicate with Nappa.