Tribute to a Son

A Dragon Ball Vignette

by Torankusu Senshi

My son is dead.

He never stood a chance, not against what we face today, this God of War that has named himself Cell. His power is.....unholy. Tremendous. Freeza, onetime Emperor of the Universe and my personal demon, could not stand against a fraction of this might. My rival, Son Gokuu, was the greatest Saiyajin in the universe, and as much as I hate to admit it, the most perfect warrior in a race of men and women bred for war. He was defeated soundly, only serving to make Cell run out of breath. Ridiculous. And his son.....

Son Gohan. Only a halfbreed. I was taught as a youth on Vegetasei to scorn halfbreeds, for they had tainted blood and coult not never reach the heights of greatness that could be achieved by a pure blooded saiyajin. A halfbreed with lower level, third class blood running through him, no less, with the other half being human, physically the weakest of all species I have ever run across. And yet....

The wind is howling around us in protest, and the very clouds in the sky have parted in reverence for this warrior, the strongest in the universe. He burns with the power of a thousand suns, and bolts of pure energy periodically strike across his form. The ground beneath us shakes in anticipation of his rage. The very fabric of reality trembles at this boy's presence. So much for the tainted blood of halfbreeds.

I am Vegeta no Ouji. I am the greatest Prince the Saiyajin Race has ever seen. Yet....I could not measure up to a third class orphan. I am not the equal of his son, or even close to it. I could not even beat a mere bioweapon, a toy. I am a mere pawn in its game to amuse itself. I have lost all right to call myself a warrior of the Saiyajin Race. I am nothing.

I could not even save my own blood. Forgive me, Torankusu. I have failed you. Bulma woud be right to forsake me, after this.

I called him a boy. I disrespected him in all methods possible. But the truth was....I was not worthy of his respect. He was a man, and a warrior. He grew up in a future that was hell, the likes of which I could only have dreamed of. He grew up in a world where cybernetically enhanced demons had literally committed genocide on an entire planet, a war that had ravaged Chikyuu for the past 20 years. Before he was even born, all the great warriors of his time had died, including myself. Son Gohan, a half trained boy, was the only true role model my son had, the only person he looked to to see how a proper warrior conducted himself. I figured he would be weak. And yet....

He was one of the most perfect warriors I have ever seen, completely lacking in Son Gokuu's much vaunted but little useful compassion, for his enemies, at the least. He murdered Freeza and King Cold in cold blood, for they never stood a chance against him. He could have spared them. Instead, he acted as a true prince of the Saiyajin. But...he was better than I am. I fight for myself, and only for. My son....he had an ideal. He survived a life of intense hardship, reached the level of super saiyajin, the perfect warrior, at the age of 13, and was battling the genocidal monsters on his world at the age of 16, and surviving their wrath.

He defied all the odds. He even defied the very Law of Time, coming back here in order to create this dimension. He survived our training, and surpassed my strength. Now he's dead. Because I failed him.

Torankusu, you were a great man, young though you were. You were the best of me and your mother, a Saiyajin Prince, to be sure, yet with your mother's determination, her innovativeness, her humanity. I am nothing. But you....were something.

I do not deserve to fight. But I have to prove myself worthy of my son's respect, the respect he gave me which I knew I did not deserve. This is for you, Torankusu.

May you rest in peace, my son. You will not go unavenged.