Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z.

A/N: Yeah, the rating is pretty much just for language now. It might increase to M, don't really know. Please read, enjoy, and don't forget to review!

A/N: updates will be sporadic due to nursing school in college.

Setting: Planet Vejita. Vejita is a kid, six years old.

Plot: Vejita's father and his people are just puppets for Lord Frieza's amusement. When Vejita learns this shocking truth, his world crumbles around him as his once believed reality becomes a lie. But Vejita isn't going to take this new truth lying down. A child Vejita decides to take matters into his own hands, as he fights to free his people from Vejita and stand up for what is right. But being a child, he is attempting to free his people the only way he knows how... by following an old myth passed down through his family from generation to generation... the myth of the Crystal Heart.

Chapter 1- The Resistance

Vejita looked into the puddle that floated above the muddy ground. He watched his reflection as the water reflected back the truth: he was his father's son.

He had his father's eyes, his father's rising flame of a hair, his father's skin and firm features. The only difference was the color of his hair- black, which he inherited from his mother.

Vejita hmphed, and jumped into the puddle splashing it onto the bottom of his pants, sending his father's reflection rippling into oblivion. He looked down satisfied at his actions.

"Vejita! Stop that! You'll get your clothes all wet, and then you'll catch a cold!" His mother scolded in a matter of fact tone.

Vejita was six, and the prince over all the Saiyans on Planet Vejita, for which he and his father were named. He was dressed in royal robes: silk black pants, a silk blue kimono with a black sash that wore his family's coat of armor across the back of it, and black leather boots.

Vejita looked up to his mother with a pouty face, then ran to her with his chubby arms outstreched and flung them around his mother's waist.

The cold winter air bit at the back of his neck as he squeezed his mother tightly.

His mother, Queen Ivy, smiled sweetly. "Aww, there there, sweetie." She gently drew circles across his scalp. "What's the matter?"

Vejita looked from his mother to the other children, peering at them from the safety of his mother's arms. He watched them run and play with each other across the grass, randomly sparring with each other, kicking the red orb of a ball along the grass.

"Why don't the other children play with me?" Vejita asked his mother, peering up at her with his large, dark eyes.

Queen Ivy's eyes saddened a bit. She couldn't tell the child, it would break his heart. "It's because you are a prince, son. They respect you too much to treat you like just another child."

Vejita beamed a smile up at his mom, causing his mom to smile back.

And inside his heart ached...

"Let me walk you to your practice."

"Yes, mother."

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Vejita swung a kick at his teacher, who blocked it with ease deflecting it, causing Vejita to stumble backwards.

"You are telegraphing your attacks, Prince. You must hide them." lord Lore Lei said in a patient voice, but one that was being tested.

Vejita looked up at his teacher. She was very pretty, he had to admit. Almost as pretty as Aileen. He thought briefly about his present crush and almost blushed.

Lore Lei was sixteen, but a very pronounced martial artist. She was among the best. She stood, silver hair streaming down ending at the small of her back, a silver tail wrapped around her waist, and bright crimson red eyes. Her shirt and pants were red, and her boots black. Her Saiyan armor was jet black, contrasting the silver tail that wrapped around her waist, and the armor fanned from her small waist like a skirt.

"Attack me again." Lore Lei ordered, feeling still a bit weird about ordering the prince. She stood sure of herself, arms crossed in front of her chest, instead of in an attack position.

Vejita readied himself ot attack, but then paused, looking up at the sky. His face went from confident to fretful. "Oh no! It's getting dark! I gotta get home!"

Lore Lei looked a bit surprised, seeing the young prince lose composure so suddenly, then chuckled. I have to remember he's still just a baby.

"I'll walk you home then." Lore Lei offered.

Vejita's small features scrunched up like he had just drank sour milk. "No! I'm the Prince of Saiyans! I don't need to be walked home by a girl!"

Lore Lei glared at the young child. Why you little brat... "Listen, King Vejita would kill me if the Resistance got a hold of you. I'm walking you home."

Vejita looked at her curiosly. "What's the Resistance?"

"Ah, never mind. Let's go."

His chubby cheeks and tiny eye brows scrunched up once again. "No!" He yelled once defiantly, and then he took off running.

"Hey! Come back here!" She chased him from the small green field inside the high walls of her families land which they were appointed lords over by one of the late kings.

She followed his small form down the mosaic steps towards the high metal gate that separated her land from the village. Vejita's small form slipped through the bars easily. Lore Lei stopped and produced the key, unlocking the large gate, as she slowly pulled the heavy metal open and slid through the opening. She looked quickly all around her. No Vejita.

"Damn it!"

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Vejita ran up a dark alley way and turned the corner, pushing his hot back against the cool stone wall. It had already gotten much darker fast as the red sun set in the dark red sky, sending swirls of yellow to mix with the red. He stared past the high building at the setting sun, then let out a long exhale as he bowed his head, a smirk setting on his face.

That'll show 'em, I'm not just some weak helpless little kid. I'm the Prince of Saiyans!

Then a noise caught his ear. Vejita turned quickly to his right. His eyes scanning the dark alley for the source. Nothing.

Stop being such a scaredy cat. Lore Lei wouldn't be afraid. She'd yell 'show yourself', then kick some butt.

Vejita thought over yelling that, but decided not to. He then turned to walk home only to run into a rather tall, hard person. Vejita looked straight up to see a face staring directly down at him, with crooked teeth to match a crooked smile, and a long scar etched diagonally across his face right over the bridge of his nose. Spiky, brown hair jutted out over his face like the bridge of a base ball cap.

"Hey there kid. That's a nice insignia on your back. The Royal Coat of Arms, right?"

The large, muscular arm reached down and grabbed his chest, his hand engulfing it's circumferance. Vejita began kicking and thrashing his arms. "Let go of me!"

The large man laughed, ignoring the kicks against his for arm. He raised him up high in the air level with his face, looking at the small body that was now fisted in his hand, the man's large fingers almost touching behind Vejita's back.

"Hey, Gora, what are ya gonna do with da kid?" A squeeky voice came from the side.

Vejita looked down from said Gora's hand at the small form near the ground. The Saiyan was scrawny, reaching height only to Gora's waist, and the fact that the Saiyan was stooped down with a hunched back didn't help any. His arms were so small Vejita could swear even he could break them, and his face was gauty in appearance, with sunken cheek bones and sunken eyes deep into their sockets. Their sky blue color gave almost a ghastly appearance from the deep sockets, and black circles lined them. His black hair was ratty and matted to his head hugging his skull like a cap, with frayed ends jutting from the bottom of his skull. His nose was jagged, and stuck out from his face like a cuttlers knife, and his teeth were pointed like sharks sitting above his long, pointy chin.

The small man raised his small, gnawy fingers up and threaded them eagerly playing with his thumbs. Vejita watched them in disgust as the large knuckles mowed over one another.

"Are we gonna break his tiny neck?" The man laughed a high pitched, gritty laugh, and began speaking again, in the squeeky, gritty voice that reminded Vejita of old gears in need of oil. "I want to break the small bones in his legs first, hear em grind en crunch, heh heh."

Vejita heard a deep gruffy laugh from in front of him, and turned to face the rather large head in front of him. He could see it more clearly now. Gora's face was rather box shaped, like a pit bulls, with large muscles replacing where a neck should be. Spiky brown hair jutted out wildly in every direction. And his eyes were almond shaped, the left one red, the right one yellow, and both shaped like a serpent's eyes. And the scar that ran right across his face through the red one.

It was then that he began to feel his heart pick up real speed. The Gora must've felt it to, because his smirk only grew wider.

"Scared huh. Don't worry kid, you won't suffer near as much as us, right Scratch."

Scratch only laughed his high pitched laugh.

Vejita swallowed hard, a clear lump forming in his throat. "Scratch, what kind of name is that?" Vejita spat as he pushed hard against the fist, trying desperately to escape.

"I dunt think you're in any position ta make cracks kid." Scratch spat back, a smirk in his words.

"What are you going to do with me? Why are you doing this?" Vejita said, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

Gora chuckled deeply. "You can thank your father really. King Vejita shouldn't have given in to Frieza. He's made a mockery out of our people. Letting us become a bunch of puppets for Frieza to send out and kill off as he pleases. Hmph. Conquering planets for that creaton, dying in his name."

"We're the Resistance, kid. We're gonna even the score. A life for a life. Our lives, for your life, heheh." Scratch jutted in with his cackling laugh.

And with that, Vejita watched in horror as Gora's large hand came towards his head, blocking out all else from view. Vejita squeezed his eyes shut as he fisted his tiny hands on the side of Gora's hand fisted around his small form.

Vejita suddenly became acutely aware of all around him. Of his tiny heart beating rapidly out his chest, of his quickened breath in his throat, of the sweat dripping down the side of his face.

And as he prepared himself for the crushing force of the hand around his head he thought back to earlier today.

Mother, why don't the other kids play with me.

It's because you're a prince, son. They respect you too much to treat you like just another child.

Lies. Sweet, venemous lies.

A/N: I'm more than a little nervous with this story. I've never really written one with a child this young before as the main character. This next chapter will be in first person, through Vejita's point of view. I only wrote this one in third person to give it a more light appearance. The rest of the chapters will be exponentially darker.

Please don't forget to review. :)