AN:  This is a prequel to "Cleaving of Emotion."  While it's not necessary to have read "Cleaving" beforehand, it may help you to understand why I'm choosing to focus on small things that may not seem important to this story. I've powered up a few people, but it won't throw off the balance.  I won't have anyone stronger than Vegeta.  Well, in proper form, no one will be. That said, let's go!

Arms up over his head, Michio crouched down to protect him from the onslaught of plaster and paint chips that sprayed inward, towards his covered head and body.  When the unnatural implosion calmed down, Michio stood up, ignoring the mocking laughter of the floating figure outside.  Sprinting, Michio outran another blast, loose clothes whipping behind him, barely evading the gray haze of stucco and drywall that swirled behind him. 

Michio dove, his dark hair swinging wildly, and tucked himself into a roll, coming up in front of a simple looking machine that was obviously connected to an outer mechanism.  Without hesitation, Michio grabbed the two metal bars on the front of the human-sized box, and powered up.  Screaming, he pumped his energy into the machine, feeling the machine whir to life, and hearing the outside generators kick on.  A blink of a pink light, once, twice, and then a domed shield formed over the partially destroyed building, protecting it from further assault. 

The figure outside snorted, and floated to the edge of the shield.  "You'll never stop the Saiyans, imposters!  We will overcome!"  A blue aura formed around him, and he flew off, leaving the building alone. 

Michio slumped, energy sapped.  Leaving his hands on the metal bars to continue powering the defense system, he sagged to his knees, devastated.  These power shields could only be held up for so long, and only while a person has enough ki to continue feeding the insatiable appetites for energy they had.  Unfortunately, he mused, their energies would not be enough to defeat the Saiyans by themselves.  They needed something more.  A leader, a person with enough resources and intelligence to lead the False Saiyans into combat.  The future of their lives was at stake, and Michio knew that the Saiyans and their King didn't play anything halfheartedly.  It was only time before they would turn their full attentions to the "False Saiyan" problem.  And then, then, they would be doomed.

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Toshiro stretched out a tattered map across the long, polished table.  "That is the third direct assault in the past week.  The Saiyans are becoming more aggressive."  His hand tapped three islands on the charted map.  "Here, here, and here.  I'm not seeing a pattern." 

An older man stood, and peered at the map, his clear green eyes narrowing.  "I am.  It's following where the False Saiyans started arriving.  If that holds, we're four away."  He ran a hand through his salt and pepper reddish hair, letting it fall down to frame his face.  "Four strikes before we're under siege.  They want to systematically wipe us out."

Years ago, a group of Saiyan "extinguishers" had returned from the planet Jorage after a successful mission.  In their celebration, many had returned home to their wives.  The combination of celebratory wine, and being able to see their mates after a year had led to the conception of many children in a short time.  However, when these children had been born, there had been a problem.  These children had a very low power level, hair that lay flat, and were more dependent on their mother's care than normal Saiyan children.  A counsel was called, and it was determined after years of study that something in the planet Jorage's makeup was harmful to Saiyan reproduction, as every one of the males that had been on Jorage had come back to produce a "problem child."

A second counsel was held, and it was proclaimed that these "False Saiyans" would be sent to live on a remote corner of Vejitasei, away from proper Saiyans.  The high ranking members of the counsel assumed that with their weak ki levels, the False Saiyans would die out in weeks, and that the problem would then be resolved. 

However, as those who had been caring for the False Saiyans had inferred, their weak ki levels had been masking a prominent feature inherent to most of the False Saiyans: a brilliant mind.  Working together, the false Saiyans flourished on their island, and maintained a sizable population for years.  Over time, the false Saiyans began abandoning their Saiyan heritage, and embracing their new paths, creating rather than destroying.  They took names that differed from traditional Saiyan names, and remained isolated for years, with the common Saiyan populace not even knowing of their existence.

Until now.  A Saiyan scout had been flying over the planet, and happened to spot a skyscraper off in the distance.  When he had reported it back to the King, King Vegeta and his son, Prince Vegeta, determined on the spot that it was time to eliminate the false Saiyans before their presence and advancements threatened their way of life. 

"Rinji?"  Toshiro asked his leader.  "What should we do?"

"I have an idea."  A woman stood, pointing to a mountainous area of the false Saiyan territory.  "If we build outposts there, we can see them coming, and have people ready on the defenses before they can attack our home base here."

Rinji pursed his lips and looked at the blue-haired young woman, and then at the map.  "Bulma, you know that they can move so fast that it's near impossible for most of us to see them."

Bulma smiled, and pulled a small machine out of her bag.  "I've been working on something to counter that," she boasted.  Slipping the machine over one eye, she looked at an old man.  "Power up, Master Roshi," she requested.  The grizzled warrior frowned, and began to power up.  Bulma pressed a button, and a stream of numbers began flowing over the semi-opaque green eyepiece.  "Now, fly outside where we can't see you." 

Puzzled, but curious, Master Roshi flew outside, and hid behind a blue beam.  "Alright, I'm ready."

"OK, you're behind the blue beam, and at about three-fourths power, if I recall your maximum correctly," Bulma assessed. 

Touching down, Roshi walked back into the conference room, mouth agape.  "How'd you do that?"

"My latest invention," she said with more than a hint of pride.  "I call it a scouter.  It tracks and measures ki levels."

"Fascinating," the blond Toshiro muttered. 

"So," Bulma continued, "if we build towers, we can equip watchmen with these to scan for any passing Saiyans to alert us of any trouble."  She removed the scouter from her eye.  "Rinji, if you could start construction on the towers on the three highest peaks."  Rinji nodded.  "And Master Roshi, I want you to select a small team for elite missions.  We're going to need to do something drastic if we want morale to shift in our favor."

Roshi's eyebrows furrowed.  "Alright.  I choose Krillin for strength, Toshiro for speed, Yamucha for stealth and undercover work as he most physically resembles a Saiyan, and Kentaro as an overall warrior."  Bulma murmured in agreement.  As much as she hated to see Yamucha's life risked in combat, she had to agree to let her boyfriend fight for the sake of her people.

"What do you plan to turn the tide, Bulma?"  Rinji crossed his arms over his chest.  Bulma may be a technical genius, but her tactics sometimes left much to be desired. 

"I don't know yet, Rinji."  Bulma leaned back in her chair.  "But, I do know that if we can thwart their plans a few times in a row through those lookouts, they'll get desperate.  And, that's when we strike.  Their desperation will leave them open.  I trust you to take care of the details."

"Right.  And our spy will report back, I'm sure." 

"Alright, then.  We start now."