A/N: Not sure if this story is going to be a one-shot or something bigger. If it's gonna be a bigger story, it'll probably revolve around Bardock and a few other Saiyans as they revolt against Frieza and his men and set up a revolution among all Saiyans. Depends on the feedback really. So if you want this story to continue and see where this is going, let me know. If no one is waiting for a story like this, then I won't even bother writing it. Unless I have the urge.. or when someone holds a knife against my throat.. which I hope won't happen.

Disclaimer:... why even bother, you know it. There's not even a character name in it. The poem is mine, though. Keep you hands off of it, please. If you want to use it, which I doubt, be decent and ask the owner first okay? Thank you.

"Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die"
-The Charge of the Light Brigade, by Alfred Tennyson, 1864

We stand here
In the valley of death
One by one
With our last breath

Facing our Satan
In this red gloom
Discovering the truth
We face our doom

Now the moment
Has come at last
To free us from the chains
Of the haunting past

Now…
Together…
Here…

…We stand forever

All our lives, we have been empty, soulless shelves, spirits with no meaning, our only purpose to die and to wait for that moment in which we leave this world, no honor, no pride, no glory.

Ultimate passiveness of the heart.

Born in captivity, our ideals were smashed, our hope was shattered and our lives were in service of the very monster that took the freedom from our ancestors with his own bare hands, the freedom we never got to see, the freedom that seemed like a vain dream, but never more than a dream.

The freedom we never dared to long for, until this moment, in which we seize it with both hands, in a moment of eternity.

Divided and leaderless, we answered to them. To him, the monster, the Lord. For what pride was there to object to him? What country was there to defend? What ideal was there to fight for?

There was nothing to fight for.

The was nothing worth dying for.

We bent under his will. We. Every single one of us. There was no choice, for he who wanted to live was to obey the mighty Lord, and there was no room for glorious revolution that would free us forever from the chains of constant servitude… slavery.

The revolution that awakened the secret fires within.

He who stands tall in the wind breaks, he who bends survives. The mighty tree does not win from the strong force of the storm. That principle was what governed us. Survival. Bend to survive. Bow for the Lord, in order to save our own skins.

But not anymore.

An unwritten rule everyone knew, and everyone lived by. When the urge of survival kicks in, where is the brotherhood? Where is the unity? Where is the bond that connects us all into one race, one for all and all for one? It is absent. What man does in order to survive.

But that stops here.

This is where it all ends.

There is no sadness, no grief, no fear, no desire to return and live as passive spirits until death faces us again. There are no silent prayers, or last words, or biddings of farewell, or tears. Never tears. What there is surprises us and yet it's completely natural. There is the will to fight.

Not for a country we never knew before it was captured.

Not for a royal that is imprisoned in the claws of the monster.

Not for anything that was physical in the world, not even our own bodies.

We fight for our long lost ideals. For passion. For honor. For our pride.

Eternal glory for us all, glory that goes even beyond death.

For glory is what used to govern us. Not the fear for death, or the will to live, or the urge to survive. Our ancestors belonged to a race that was strong and proud and who bent for nothing and no one. And though we haven't lived as that mighty race, we shall die being them at last, in the final moments of our lives.

We know we shall die. There's nothing else to expect. And yet as we know this, we accept it. Embrace it even. The revolution has set incontrovertible events in motion. There's no going back and we know this by heart. No one says it, but we all know.

There is no going back.

This is the moment we face our destiny.

Our commander comes to us. He does not utter empty words of encouragement, for they would be useless and redundant. None of us need encouragement, and he sees this. He sees the fire in our hearts and our pugnacity and the spirit of fighting that burns in our eyes. We are ready.

The commander can only smirk when he sees us. And we smirk back. We know what's in our hearts, and we want to kick the bastard's ass, every single one of us. And no matter if we die, when we shall we shall do it with the honor that belongs to us.

Shoulder to shoulder with our companions, we wait for our doom. And he comes, with drum rolls and fires and jeers and men of far greater numbers than us all. He surrounds us. His men are at all our sides. In front of us, behind us, on our left and on our right.

And we wait for them and smirk as we see that we are chanceless.

The Lord of Evil himself watches the battle from afar. He knows he will win and sees no reason in participating in the bloodbath that is soon to come. We practically feel his gaze on us. But he doesn't scare us anymore. Not anymore.

For we know something that he will never understand for the life of his.

For we know that tonight we can't lose. We know that by standing here, we are victorious. We have regained our honor, we have found our inner pride and we fight for something bigger than life or death.

Ideals.

Ideals that shall live forever.

In this moment, we shall die.

But no longer passive.

We are alive at last.

The hordes approach
Thousands and thousands, they come
The courage increases
With every bang of the drum

We face our enemy
Eyes meet eyes
One in which there's mocking
In the other passion lies

The battle begins at last
Everywhere, with blinding lights
We know we are losing
But in our heart, the fire ignites

And now…
We are together…
Here in this moment…

…We Stand Forever