Title: Stolen Innocence

Rating: PG

A/N: Well, I just couldn't help myself. This is yet another of those 'Vegeta's past' fics, but I hope that this will be a little original cause I haven't read many of them. This begins with chibi Veggie being taken to Frieza's ship and will continue on until the search for Goku begins. (This is gonna end up being LONG…) Enjoy!

This was it. I couldn't believe it. My own father had actually handed his only son and heir over willingly to the monstrous beast known to the universe as Frieza. I am that son and heir, and I don't think that I could feel any more hate toward him than I do now. As I slowly march to the tyrant's ship, I wonder if I'll ever see my father again. Not that I ever wish to.

He has sent Nappa with me to accompany me throughout my life, but that is hardly a comforting thing. There are plants out there that have a higher I.Q. than my chosen bodyguard does. I was always told that I was extremely intelligent for my age, and I doubt that Nappa could provide any sort of decent conversation. If a rock could talk, it could probably present a more intellectual conversation…

In any case, he is first-class and rather strong, and being a bodyguard doesn't require any more than that. However, it would have been nice to have someone to talk to that understood words that contained over six letters.

The docking bay entrance seems to loom up from nowhere. I know that it is simply because I have lost myself in thought. I must remember not to do this on Frieza's ship. Father told me that many had died because of that, and that I should keep my guard up at all times.

I sigh and march forward, knowing that if I make a run for it that I will be severely punished for that kind of behavior. The docking bay doors slide into the chrome walls to reveal a room full of elegant ships, all of them from different races.

The Saiyajin space pods stick out like sore thumbs compared to the exquisite designs of many of these alien vessels. Of course, we have never been big on showing off anything except for our power. Spending precious time that could be used for training to make a ship or anything else for that matter look better is considered as a waste of effort. Unless you were modeling on the royal palace, that is.

I wonder if Frieza's ship will be as intricately designed as some of these. It seems fitting that it would be, considering the fact that he is the most powerful being in the universe right now. It certainly wouldn't make sense if it weren't…

All these thoughts are quickly wiped away as Frieza's ship comes into view. At first I think that I am seeing things, but after rubbing my eyes, I realize that I am seeing perfectly fine. It is laughable compared to many of the elegantly constructed ships that grace the docking bay. It's shaped like a fat disk, clunky-looking and awkward compared to many of the beautiful designs around it.

I snort in disgust as we approach it. It's ugly. Not fit for a Saiyajin Prince at all. This was the kind of ship I would expect the third-class warriors to travel in. Even then, one would not expect even a third-class to spend more than a day in the atrocious-looking thing. I hope that this is some sort of idiotic joke.

It becomes painfully obvious that it is not when I see Frieza strut out of the ship as if he owns the entire planet. I feel a slight rage begin to boil up, but I quickly suppress it. Frieza is the strongest living being in the universe, and I do not think that angering him will lengthen my life span.

He slowly approaches us, and I can sense Nappa tense up. The blundering oaf thinks that the Icejin is a threat. For once in my life, I silently agree with him. I cannot gauge the true extent of Frieza's power as of now because I was only recently taught how to, but what I can feel is enormous compared to my own level of power.

The bloodred orbs that pass for his eyes lock onto mine, "Are you ready to go, Vegeta?"

For a moment I am taken aback at his casual tone. Was taking a young prince from his home something that the tyrant did often?

I force myself to stiffen and take proper stance, "Yes."

It was a lie. I didn't want to leave. This was my home. I never wanted to leave it, but I must do as my father commands and accept this for the time being. However, I refuse to believe that I will always accept this. One day I will come back to my home.

"Well then, let's go. I'd rather not spend anymore time on this filthy planet than I must."

The rage swells even more in me at those words. Filthy?! This place is my home, and it is far from filthy. It's probably a lot better than the miserable rock that he grew up on, I'd wager.

I force myself not to show my anger. I refuse to fear him, but I wish to make him think that I do. Perhaps things will not be as bad if he thinks that I fear him. Or maybe I'm just a fool for thinking that anything would make this easier to take…