Hello everyone. Just a few notes before we begin, I use British spellings, syntax, and punctuation; however, a lot of the dialogue will have a more American tone to it. So with out further ado, please enjoy my first story!

Vegeta-sei, the only red planet in its system. Its surface, blanketed in desolate crimson sands and covered in dense jungles of a similar hue. A warrior race inhabited the planet, which had conquered their quadrant of the galaxy with great strength and an unparalleled blood-lust. The Saiyans only bowed in servility to the royal house of planet Vegeta; a great dynasty of ferocity and violence. Many heads had worn the crown, and the kings all had one thing in common; an unyielding sense of pride.

Prince Vegeta gazed upon the landscape before him, letting the sweet air from the morning breeze engulf his senses. He looked down upon the capital city as the red sun rose, rendering the sky a plethora of purple tones and cast a dark shadow upon the mountains. A sense of excitement and dread simultaneously filled his heart, emerging from the thought that one day he would reign over all that lay before him, and so much more. The prince's arms were folded upon his bare chest, his signature scowl was slightly more relaxed in this pensive state. The light curtains upon the balcony entrance billowed in the wind – the flimsy material was all that separated his private chambers from the outside world. His tail twitched between his legs in agitation. He was a being of habit, and his second act of the day would be to check his itinerary, making sure there would be no unexpected events which would disrupt his training. Yet his first act of the day would always be to watch the sunrise and reflect upon his glorious destiny. His eyes glanced towards the boarders of the savage forest regions, the sight evoked memories of his childhood. He would spend days camping in them with his low class companion Raditz, everything had seemed so much larger back then and it aroused a sense of adventure in the boys as they charted the unknown. Nappa, the Prince's bodyguard and tutor, now confidant, would always be close by, often falling asleep by a stream. The boys would often hunt down a Chamak beast. The long and arduous act of tracking and outwitting the animal was Vegeta's favourite part, aside from the adrenaline filled frenzy which was subduing it. After a long day or two in the forest, they would return to civilisation covered in scratches, dirt, and blood, offering their prey to Raditz's family upon their return.

The sound of a light groaning coming from his bed broke the spell that nostalgia had wove upon him. He turned to her with a scowl, it was time for him to start his day, that meant there had to be no traces of the night before. She was some third class girl, stationed in the capital – he scoffed as he noticed she had smothered herself in the black covers increasing her comfort as if she was going to stay for any longer.

'Get up,' he growled.

She opened her black eyes and obsequiously leapt up from the bed.

'Leave.'

He did not bother to look in her direction but instead kept his eyes focused upon the scenery.

She bowed with obedience but her eyes rolled once she knew her face was out of sight. It was no secret that the Prince treated everyone equally with such haughtiness, some often speculated that it was a consequence of possessing such a high power level that rendered him untouchable. She hastily picked up her armour and ran towards the nearest door, not hesitating to look over her shoulder. He had no remorse about they way he treated his bedmates, if anything they were using him. Who would not want to have the Prince of all Saiyans as a notch on their bed post? They should be honoured that they were spending time with such an impressive being, a smirk crawled upon his face as he came to this conclusion.

This was his world.

Vegeta marched towards his ornate dresser, and ran his fingers against the carvings of the oval leaves of the Banlor tree. It was a recognisable symbol of power and strength, for the tree towered above all the other flora in the canopy. His quarters were decorated with only the best Vegeta-Sei had to offer. He tossed his armour on the bed, the disturbance of the linen caused the traces of his fleeting encounter embedded in the sheets to abruptly waft into his nose. The Prince grimaced at the stale smell but smirked as he recollected the feeling of his dominance and hedonist pursuits, that were befitting of a Saiyan of his stature. Fully clothed, he reviewed his itinerary flashing upon his pink scouter, sitting upon his ear and before his left eye.

'Father you wished to see me?'

The prince stood with his hands behind his back, his tail now protectively wrapped around his waist. The blazing sun illuminated King Vegeta's private study, bouncing off the freshly polished wooden floors. His back turned against the large tapestries of Saiyan myths that decorated the dark blue walls. The king gazed out of the large arched windows. Vegeta looked as his father's profile, he had inherited his flame like hair, and sharp jaw, yet his father towered above him in height.

The king's voice boomed from across the room, 'If the population of game on this planet were to dwindle, how would you feed your people boy?'

'Simple. Visit a planet under our rule and eat their game, taking everything that we need until the population has become stable.'

The King nodded, ignoring the arrogance that dripped from his son's tone. He decided to fire his second question, and pointed in such a dramatic manner Prince Vegeta had to stifle any hints of his simmering exasperation.

'One of the ambassadors from an ally planet is caught in the act of espionage. What actions do you take?'

Vegeta looked down at his gloved hands and adjusted them nonchalantly – he wanted to make it clear that he was too old for his father's trivial quizzes.

'Kill them, and then purge the planet, taking all its resources.' He was hoping his father was insinuating another mission – he was an easy man to read and through force of habit, his son had discovered that these quick fire questions always related to the subject of the following conversation. His spirits lifted at the hope of carrying out such a destructive errand. The king continued, 'You take a mistress and the queen objects. What do you do ?'

This was a new one. His father latched on to his son's flash of confusion, hoping that he finally might have caught the young Prince in a stalemate when it came to the affairs of the heart. Unfortunately, his son did not have one.

'It is none of the Queen's damn business. I bed whomever I please.'

The king looked upon his hardened expression, walking to the end of the room to sit behind his wrought wooden desk.

'Now, on with the important tasks of today.'

He looked down upon his holographic tablet, his tone soften slightly but maintained an authoritative air.

'I would like you approval on arranging your betrothal to one of the daughters of house Yasai.'

Vegeta snorted, realising that his father had actually alluded to this subject in his morning quiz. The Prince knew taking a queen was part of his royal duties, but he was still apathetic towards it. All he had to do was produce an heir with her. If he despised the wench, he could find console in other women, that is why society had invented concubines.

Seeing his son lost in his thoughts, King Vegeta's voice rang through the air once more, 'Boy this is important! If you have another female in mind then make it clear.'

'Choose an alien for all I care!' Vegeta wore an over embellished look of disdain to emphasize the point.

'That's your problem Vegeta you are a great warrior and stratagesit but a terrible politician!'

His son looked at him in suspicion. The notion of a king acting like a politician (having never met a trustworthy one in his life) seemed like a contradiction to Vegeta.

'The people hold house Yasai in equal regard to house Vegeta- this will be a good match. She shall produce strong offspring.'

Vegeta cringed at the thought of many screaming Saiyan brats running a muck about the palace.

'I trust your judgement father,' he gritted through his teeth.

'Good.' The King sat behind his desk.

'You shall meet her at the moon festival and we will announce the betrothal on the final night.'

He fumbled through his papers on the desk and poised his holographic tablet to the side.

'Now – I'll be sending you on a mission...'

Finally his king was talking in a language he understood, Vegeta's chest swelled at the thought of the sweet taste of raining terror down upon his enemies.

'...to the southern quadrant to deal with a band of pirates who are interrupting our trade routes.'

'A mere group of Pirates. Are you serious?'

Prince Vegeta arched his eyebrow inquisitively his voice laced with his disgust at the thought of he, the self proclaimed Strongest of all the Saiyans would stoop to such a lowly mission deemed basic for a third class.

His father chuckled, a deep noise that echoed off the walls.

'I was confident that was going to be your reaction boy. But appearances can be deceiving.'

His father's lip raised into a smirk as he leaned forward maintaining eye contact with his heir.

'There's something suspicious about these recent attacks and I need someone I can trust'.

Vegeta's curiosity peaked, who on Vegeta-Sei would even fathom betraying their royal family let alone having the gall to undertake such a foolish endeavour. His arms tightened across his chest, under his reign he would see to it that no cracks like this would be conspicuous, he would obliterate them all with one foul swoop of his wrath. His father observed the tension in his son, the lust for dominance and control – he had raised him to be the epitome of a Saiyan warrior; however, was that disposition necessary for a prosperous ruler? The king sighed.

'You will take Raditz and Kakarot with you,' he ordered, his focus returning to his papers.

His son gawked and gestured his right arm forward in pleading, 'Raditz I will allow, but Kakarot no! For the love of the gods, no! They say his idiot mother accidentally dropped a - '

'That is enough boy! You are taking them and that is final. The boy needs more experience in the field to discover his potential.'
Vegeta snarled and returned his arms to his chest, his tail twitched. Bowing before his king, and with one clean sweep of his blood red cape, he marched out the door. He planned to get in a couple of hours training before leaving for the mission, he was not enthusiastic about being cooped up in the confines of space ship with such company.

Kakarot had found himself a nice high gorge to do that which he loved most: training. He had rendered the once smooth walls jagged and full of pock marks. His ki was tingling all over his body and he was ready to once again unleash his energy upon his imaginary opponent, when suddenly a duffel bag slapped him around the back of the head.

'Hey! Shitstacks!'

Kakarot turned rubbing the nape of his neck, his older brother floated above him at the top of canyon. Raditz always used such a colourful vocabulary to describe his younger sibling that it made Kakarot feel a pang of remorse to be treated in such an uncouth manner by a family member. But being a pacifist and someone who lacked malicious linguistic knowledge to parry, he would just take it on the chin and remember to hit his brother really hard, the next time they sparred.
Raditz smiled with his toothy grin, 'We've been summoned. We gotta leave now for a mission with Prince Vegeta.'

'Ah really?' Kakarot did not like the abrupt nature of the military – they never appreciated food like he did. Military rations were on the list of his least favourite things and he wanted to fill his belly with his mother's cooking before he left.

'Can't I say goodbye to mom first?' His voice trailed up to his brother, soaked in his naivety.

'No.' Raditz replied bluntly, as his eyebrows arched in annoyance.

'Hurry up, his highness won't like it if we're late.'

The sarcasm in his brother's voice was wasted upon him. Picking up his worn brown bag and adjusting his military grade regulation armour, Kakarot took to the sky, following his brother to the docking bay.

The bay buzzed with the sound of machines and engines. It was a large hanger, Kakarot thought it looked more like a ration box than a building. On the contrary it was one of the most modernised buildings on the planet. It was constructed out of an imported metal, and was a stark contrast to the more traditional buildings of the capital. The brothers walked towards the docking station they had been given in their mission briefing, a small figure clad in a blue battle suit and white armour leaned against the silver frame of the ship. Prince Vegeta peeled his eyes open and glared more surly than usual at the brothers.

'It's about time!'

Raditz grinned secretly knowing that they had irked the Prince by catching him taking a momentary nap. It was no secret that his highness had trouble sleeping, but everyone would always act ignorant to the obvious – lest they desire to be slung in the medical bay. The Prince was far too proud to be seen as anything but a creature of perfection.

'Blame Kakarot your highness,' Raditz spat at his brother, whilst they bowed.

'Whatever, get on the damned ship!' Vegeta shouted turning his back on the two. Raditz swiftly stood upright and eagerly followed Vegeta on board. Kakarot took a small moment to marvel at the ship. He had never been stationed on one so shiny and smooth, all the rust buckets he had seen could not hold a candle to this sleek ship. Although Kakarot could only appreciate it for its appearance, Raditz was intrigued by its potential speed and schematics. Upon entering the vessel Kakarot saw him smoothly rub his had on the control panel and release a drawn out whistle of appreciation.

Vegeta stood behind the brothers scowling, 'Set course for Northern Quadrant area 43'.

His command sliced the ambiance, interrupting the brothers' awe, making them jump slightly. Raditz hung his head in shame, at the thought his Prince had seen him in such a casual manner. Kakarot however, was insouciant as always and wriggled himself into a passenger's seat.

Raditz flipped panels and switches, or that is what kakarott thought he was doing, of course, his brother would argue that it was far more advanced procedure. Vegeta sighed to himself, between the weak Raditz and his fool of a brother, there was not a brain cell between them. The prince was mentally preparing himself for the worst case scenarios orchestrated by their stupidity. He had peculiar feeling bubbling in his gut. A foreboding that this mission would not be uneventful. He furrowed his brow, and was ashamed at himself for surrendering to such superstitious nonsense! His rational mind instantly blamed that disastrous new chef, that was the cause of this, kismet had no part in this. And upon that conclusion, he made a mental note to fire that pathetic excuse for a cook upon his return.

The ship's engines whirled as they smoothly rose into the atmosphere. Kakarot pressed his face to a nearby window, he would never tire of seeing the planet look like a giant swirly marble. Vegeta scoffed at the sight of this childish behaviour, as far as he was concerned the rumours were true; Kakarot's feeble mother had dropped a dense joint of meat on his head, rendering him a complete and utter oaf. Vegeta looked back at the controls and gave a nod to Raditz. A rumbling sound from the engines reached a crescendo as they subsequently made the jump to hyperspace. It was time to begin their mission.