A/N: Hey there! I think I have writer's ADD. This is the third story I am currently working on, but never fear! "A Lifetime of Learning" is almost complete, and then I will have much more time to dedicate to this story and "Doctor Doctor". Well, anyway, this idea came to me a few months ago, but then it morphed into this awesome idea that just had to be written down. This is the story of King Vegeta, before he was King, and of how he defeated the Tuffles, became King of Planet Vegeta, and found his queen. I do not have too much of this planned out yet, but it will be a decently long story. Much of the story will not contain the usual lemony material (it will eventually, though) because I want the characters to have a slow start but an awesome finish. Please read and give me feedback: any time I create an original character it is always difficult to gauge how the audience will react to that character.

Well, please enjoy. :)

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z belongs to Akira Toriyama.

He wished it had not come to this. The war between them and the Tuffles had waged for years now, and he needed the cooperation of the Diminutives in order to beat them back and have any chance at victory. Problem was his father was the only one they would speak to. Now his father was dead. Carelessness was more often than not the cause of Saiyan fatalities. The Tuffle weaponry was annoying much of the time, but very deadly when one was caught off guard. His father had been too arrogant to comprehend the audacity of the Tuffles to come so close to their camp, and he had paid for it with his life.

It was not as though he was not prepared to take over the duties of the clan chief, but it felt wrong to do so. These men and women had been following one leader, one set of orders for as long as they could remember, and now that was all about to change. He could not allow his clan to charge blindly into battles anymore. "Strategy is for the weak" was an old clan motto, and it needed to be stricken from history. The Tuffles outnumbered them ten to one on a good day and their weaponry and advanced technology gave them ample force to eventually win the war. There was always the trump card, the ultimate Saiyan form, but the moon would not yet rise for another year and that meant they needed to keep the Tuffles at bay for one more year. For that, they would need help.

Three clans existed amongst the Saiyans: The Dominants, the Dormants, and the Diminutives. His clan and the Dormants had long ago formed an alliance to wage war against the Tuffles. Though they lacked the strength of the Dominants, the Dormants had amazing chi abilities and a knack for adapting to even the most desperate of situations; without their help, the war would have been lost very early on. Unfortunately, the Tuffles were quite good at adapting as well. Energy shields protected many from the deadly chi and rendered all but the most powerful attacks useless. Now they needed numbers to overcome their foes.

The Diminutives were the outcast clan, in a sense. Diminutive Saiyans were much smaller than their counterpart Dominants and Dormants, lacking the bulk of the former and the height of the latter. But they were very fast and very strong. Clan relations had decayed and when the war began they stayed firmly out of it. His father was the only member of either clan to be allowed contact with the Diminutive chief. Meetings were held to discuss involvement in the war, and those talks had seemed to be going well. But with his father dead, he was unsure how they would deal with a newcomer.

She knew there was nothing she could say or do to convince him otherwise. For almost half her life the Saiyans and the Tuffles had been at war. Her clan had stayed out of the fighting, not because they did not wish to fight, but rather because the other clans had wished them to stay out of it. Arrogance ran strong within her race, especially among the larger ones. That was why she knew her brother could not deny an alliance with the other two clans: if they were coming to them for help, it meant they were losing the war.

Fighting was in her blood, a racial prerogative she had frequently made use of. War was not something she looked forward to, however, at least not with these people. Fist to fist, chi to chi, was how a battle should be fought. Not fist to phase pistol, chi to armored tank. It was not the way to fight, but she knew soon there would be little argument in the matter. And she would be damned if she was left out of the fight, no matter how dishonorable it might be.

Her thoughts were left undisturbed for a few hours as she sat outside the hovel she and her brother called home. She could have stayed by her brother's side, given him council, but she knew it was best to forgo that option. An immense dislike of the other clans ran to her core: their arrogance is what got her father and mother killed. A few years ago, they had gone to the Dominants' camp at their request to discuss an alliance. They never returned. The Dominants had assured her parents that the way to their camp was safe from the Tuffles. How wrong were they. She knew it was of no fault of the warriors, but the way of life that was seeped into their society was to blame. A warrior she may be, but she knew the merits of caution. Which was why she sat outside the meeting, holding her tongue from any scathing remark that might cause trouble.

When she finally heard movement, she stood straight with shoulders back and chin forward as the Dominants came outside one by one. It was odd no Dormants had come on escort duty, or even sent a representative, but she supposed they followed orders blindly and had no reason to question the Dominant way. She prepared herself to give up some dignity and bow her head slightly to the Dominant chief, but he never stepped out. Instead, it was her brother who did so and motioned for her to come inside.

"Sister, I would like to speak with you." That was never a good sign. He had the sweetest look plastered all over his face, and that meant he was going to ask her to do something she did not want to do. He guided her to the center of their home, where the meeting had taken place. Sitting at one side of the long conference table was the Dominant chief. He looked much like his father, but his shoulders were not nearly as relaxed and she sensed that he was on guard. It was hard to imagine a Dominant being intimidated by any member of her clan, though she suspected it was more his inexperience than his worry that stiffened his muscles.

Her brother motioned for her to sit opposite the Dominant chief and took his own place at the head of the table. She bowed her head respectfully towards the chief. "Chief Vegeta, this is my sister, Aina. She may not look it, but I assure you she is by far the best choice for my envoy." She whipped her head towards her brother.

"Kotak, you can't be serious! What do I have to offer the chief that one of our other clan members cannot?" He gave a pitied smile towards the other chief and was regarded in kind. Damn her brother. The mere thought of living with the arrogant bastards disgusted her.

"I trust you. Granted, I trust many of our clan, but you know what decisions I would and would not approve of. Besides, from what I understand, the other two clans are sorely lacking in anyone who can strategize. You used to be the best Maze Runner we had."

"That was years ago! Devising simple ways to outmaneuver adolescent boys was easy." A deep chuckle cut her remarks short. It originated from across the table.

"At this point, outmaneuvering a rock would be more knowledge than my people have. They seem to think blindly charging into a situation is the best, and only, option. For awhile, it worked just fine. And then the Tuffles got smarter. Simply put, we will lose this war if we do not learn to organize ourselves. I have some ideas, but any help would be very useful." He spoke very well for a brutish Dominant, but then so had his father. Something about being the chief of a clan gave one more charisma than the average man. Dokra, the chief of the Dormants, was rumored to use his talents for bedroom gains. Hopefully Chief Vegeta had no similar intentions.

She humpfed distinctly and crossed her arms, giving her brother a sharp look. "You are sure?" There was more than one implication. Surprisingly, her brother nodded without hesitation. She sighed and turned back to the Dominant chief. "Very well. I shall be my brother's envoy and your advisor. When do we leave?"

"As soon as possible."

"I'll get my things."

Her things amounted to very little, she realized. She had a set of winter furs, a few of her father's out-of-date maps, and a few personal necessity items. Otherwise, she had nothing. Perhaps war with the Tuffles would change that. For as long as she knew, the Tuffles had lived luxuriously in their big cities and had not even deigned to share any of that wealth or technology with her people. Better housing, superior medicinal remedies, these were what she wanted, but she knew there were other reasons for the war. Saiyans were power-hungry, always needed to expand. Staying clumped together in three clans for so many years would drive even the most placid race mad. To be honest, she was looking forward to seeing someplace other than the floodplain.

She had been flying slightly behind the Dominant chief and his escort, noting a particular order to things. No women were in the group, and the smaller members flew more near the outskirts of the formation. Within her clan, each member was treated equally, preference given only to the injured or the young. She prepared herself for a severe shock when she finally arrived at the Dominant camp, and was not disappointed.

A stark contrast to her clan village, the Dominant buildings were built into a giant mountain. The structures just begged to be challenged; they spoke volumes for the people they held within. She was led to the largest structure near the top of the mountain. The escort did not follow her or the chief inside. The chief's home was larger than her own, several more rooms having been carved out and furnished. Everything was bigger as well, she noticed, likely to accommodate the size of the native people.

"You may stay in this room." She stopped beside a modest room and took a look inside. It was sparsely furnished with a simple bed and a crude rack. "Please," he said, motioning her to look around. She did as bidden.

She set her pack of belongings atop the rack and gingerly sat upon the bed. The mattress was soft enough to get some decent sleep on, though she would need to be careful about any loose feathers that might poke her in her sleep. The furs covering the bed were soft and supple, though definitely aged. Simple, but functional.

"Is it to your liking?" She turned to him with a puzzled look.

"It is suitable. I do wonder why you care about my comfort, though." He chuckled lightly; something about the way his throat rumbled put her off guard.

"Your brother made me swear no harm would come to you, or else he would do something very unseemly to me; I would prefer to avoid that. Additionally, you have never been away from your clan, never witnessed our culture. Providing you with some level of comfort is minor penance for the shock you will endure once you begin interacting with the rest of my clan. By the way, there are certain things you should know and be aware of, as I did not see the same situation in your clan."

"And what might those 'certain things' be?" she said, eying him suspiciously.

"Firstly, we do have a hierarchy in place. The stronger one is, the higher in the hierarchy one will be. While our females are not discriminated against, necessarily, they do tend to be weaker than many of the males. As such, it would be a good idea to step lightly with your words around the males until you have formed an acquaintance with them." He said it with such a matter-of-fact tone.

"Does the same go for you? Need I hold my tongue in your presence?" Her words were biting, and she was well aware of her tone.

"Only in public, and then only until your presence has been established. Start spouting off or 'humpfing' around me too early while around my men, and you may find yourself quite injured for a long time. I did not bring you here because I wanted someone to agree with me. You are here to be my council, here to attempt to help me win the war. Withholding your opinion might be dangerous."

"But saying it around anyone else might be just as dangerous? Can your clan not take criticism?"

"Oh, they can, but most criticisms are followed by one of two results. One, the one providing the criticism dodges the resulting attack. Or two, the one providing the criticism does not dodge the resulting attack. Despite being of a different clan, I would think you and your people would have similar methods of conflict resolution." His voice had softened, quieted, and she knew he meant his words well and was trying very hard to convey the seriousness of his advice.

"Yes, we simply announce our intent to fight before we do so."

"So," he began. The next thing she knew she was out of breath and laying flat against the bed, watching the chief's arm retract from his assault. "Had I announced that, you would have been able to dodge it? I believe we can learn from each other. You can teach me about strategy, and I can teach you about keeping your guard up. The main meal will be served in an hour. After, a meeting will be held with my finest warriors, along with yourself and the Dormant envoy. In the meantime, I do not recommend wandering off. You may explore this building, but do not venture elsewhere." He turned and left the room.

She was still out of breath when she sat up from the bed, scathing. That bastard had struck her merely to make a point. The softness in his voice had not been one of caution; it had been a warning sign of his shift into his predatory mood. How damned interesting.

It was perhaps not the brightest idea to strike his Diminutive envoy, but she was being very stupid for someone acclaimed to be so smart. She may not have known she was challenging his pride with her words, but she would learn eventually to keep a cautious tongue when he was offering advice. Biting remarks about a battle plan would be welcome, but those same remarks made against his person could not be tolerated. He believed, though, there would be a fine line between the two, and he may need to sacrifice a bit of his pride so as not to lose the alliance with the Diminutives.

Strong-willed female. If she did not learn soon, he was afraid for what his clan might make of her. If they tolerated her for even that long.

A/N: One thing I would like to explain is my decision for three separate Saiyan clans. I've always noticed how there were really really big Saiyans (Nappa) and small Saiyans (Vegeta and Tarble). I figured it would only make sense for Saiyans of similar size and ability to come together and form a group. The Dormant clan is representative of Saiyans like Goku, Bardock, etc. Also, there needed to be a reason why King Vegeta was the one to rally the Saiyans and beat back the Tuffles. Anyway, I hope the idea isn't too silly, so please know I had a reasoning behind it. Well, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter.