Author's Note:

Short version for people who hate long author's notes - this story contains some upsetting stuff including violence, allusions to rape and sex with dubious consent. If you're a hardened reader it won't be anything shocking to you, but if you're sensitive to these kinds of thing, don't say I didn't warn you. You may now skip to the beginning of the story.

Long version for people who want to hear all about it! - Though this fic is a stand alone story, it is also a kind of a branching out from my first fic Broken Down Universe. I tried to write this as a single sentence in that story, but it wouldn't fit (I'm not surprised now!), or even fit into a paragraph, so in the end I referred to the incident just as 'that other time.' After leaving it out though, the idea just wouldn't go away, and kept bouncing around in my mind. Eventually, during some free minutes at work, I starting writing it out, wondering how it would go if I gave it room to breathe. I was writing Never Ever Land at home at the time (and still am), and didn't want to end up writing two tales at the same time, but I let myself keep adding to it at work for a couple of months, a few minutes at a time, until I had the first chapter and half. It expanded hugely, with all the space I let it have to tell itself, and I couldn't believe that I could have ever though it would fit inside the body of Broken Down Universe. It started to take over my mind at that point and wrestle with Never Ever Land for my focus. I realised that it was going to be about 5 meaty chapters, so I gave in and decided to bring it home during my holiday and knock the bastard off so I could get back to Never Ever Land. And so you have this!

Don't fear, you don't need to have read Broken Down Universe to follow this story (though if you haven't, I think you should - wink wink!). It is my head cannon about Vegeta in his youth. It informs the backstory of Broken Down Universe, and my version of the infamous 3 years (should I ever get round to writing it down), but not really Never Ever Land. If the only stories you've read of mine are Monkey Business or Never Ever Land, prepare for something rather more serious!

Thank you to Adli once more, who has continued to be my beta for this story too! I owe her, and I've got no idea how to repay her kindness.

Lastly, I'd like to tentatively dedicate this fic to flamingpoetic, who I ended up thinking of many times while I wrote this. I hope you like it.

Vegeta had added a new feature to his nightly routine.

He crept into the nursery; towel wrapped around his waist and still damp from his shower after his evening workout, and made his way to the side of the crib to look down on his daughter. He didn't fight the warm feeling the sight of her stirred in him. He no longer told himself he was soft and clinging to need to check on her. Seeing her plump baby features slack and happy in sleep left no room for any negative thoughts, other than a faint worry for her future, and the never-dying regret that he had denied himself this happiness when his son was born. He hadn't understood back then what it meant to be a father. He hadn't wanted to acknowledge the ties between himself and a helpless thing that could be ended or taken away from him in an instant. He hadn't wanted his son. He hadn't wanted to feel.

Not wanting to wake her, but unable to resist, he leant down into the crib to cup his hand over the blue fuzz of her head. She was not quite a year yet and her hair showed no sign of thickening up any time soon – not like a Saiyan child at all. She looked as helpless as he felt her to be.

She waved her baby fists in response and smacked her lips and he stepped back again, in case he woke her and invoked Bulma's wrath. The woman valued sleep above most other things these days. He wondered if she was asleep already. Too bad for her if she is – I have a use for her about now, he told himself with a leer.

Just as he was about to turn away to find out, the babe quieted herself by sticking her thumb in her mouth. He'd never seen her do that before but the gesture was familiar and he searched back through his memory for a matching moment.

Without warning the memory hit him all at once – his guard was down and he had no way to plug the breach as those purposely unremembered handful of days came crashing back on him. He caught his breath and caught himself on the rail of the crib as he was blinded by the horror of it. And he saw for the first time just how horrible it was.

Standing here in front of his daughter he finally realised the true extent of his brokenness, his damnation, his evil. How could anything he do now atone for that? He didn't deserve his daughter, or the woman waiting in the next room, or the boy asleep down the hall. He didn't deserve them, and who in their right mind would entrust them to his safekeeping?

'It wasn't my fault,' he whispered as the shame grew heavier and heavier. He could see Bulma and Kakarott in his mind's eye, nodding their heads and agreeing.

He made you do it, they said. You had no choice. You were innocent.

'But I'm not innocent! She was the innocent one!'

She'd been a child...someone's daughter. There was no Hell deep enough to bury his shame, and no Eternity long enough to make amends for his sins.

You were just a child too!

'I was never a child!'

ooo

ooo

Vegeta awoke with fire in his belly.

He wasn't sure precisely what this feeling was. He didn't want to admit it was nervousness. He didn't think it was happiness, but he had to look a long way back for a happy memory he could compare it too, so he couldn't be sure. He was sure a great part was vindictive glee. Today he was in charge! Today he outranked Nappa! Today he took command of their sad little squadron of surviving Saiyans, and Frieza already had a mission for them.

It meant of course that he would be in charge of reporting directly to Frieza himself, as well as suffering the company of Dodoria and Zarbon more than ever. He'd spent countless hours these last twelve years fantasising about how he would kill all three of them when, gods willing, he became strong enough. He was not yet. Not by a long shot. But he'd been stronger than Nappa since he was ten years old, and now at least Vegeta would not have to suffer the ignominy of taking orders from someone weaker, dumber and lesser born than he. He was a Prince, and he should take orders from no one, especially his own bodyguard. Of course, when they were in private the imposed hierarchy was ignored by the Saiyans in preference for the natural one, but Nappa had grown too comfortable playing the leader of their group in public and on the battlefield, and Vegeta was jealous of the small amount of respect he had garnered as such. Credit for the leadership should go to him alone.

He dressed quickly in his cell-like chamber. It was earlier than he needed to be up, but there was nothing about his room that invited a person to linger. It contained only the bed, bathroom cubicle, chair and a desk that saw very little use. He had very few possessions. He used to collect souvenirs from the planets they visited (or relics as he and Raditz had called them, as the souvenirs were usually from cultures recently made extinct by themselves), but someone had ratted him out, and Zarbon had destroyed them all. Attitude adjustment, Zarbon had called it — character building. Vegeta had felt his character building all right... building to a towering hatred for the smug, green-skinned prick.

He walked as slowly as was seemly to the barracks mess hall, wanting to waste time without inviting a charge of loitering. Like most everywhere on Frieza's planet where the tyrant himself was unlikely to tread, the mess hall was a barren space of neutral colours and relentless functionality. There were only a few soldiers in there, and no one worth his notice except -

Oh no. Cui.

Vegeta tried to slip down the side of the hall to the serving hatch, and succeeded in piling his tray with food and making it to a table in the corner before Cui noticed him and beelined straight for him

'The gluttonous monkey is stuffing his face again I see.'

Vegeta ignored him and continued to hoe into the uninspiring breakfast with single-minded determination.

'Where are your protector and your clown?' Cui pressed. When Vegeta continued to ignore him, Cui hooked a finger over the lip of the tray and yanked it away from the Saiyan. 'Vegeta! I asked you a direct question!'

Vegeta chewed his mouthful and then swallowed. 'So what?'

'So, I am your superior. You'll answer me when I ask a question.'

Vegeta eyed the young, purple creature with open dislike, and asked, more casually than he felt, 'Or what? You'll have me in front of the disciplinary committee again?'

'Not anymore. Don't you remember what Zarbon said last time? I have full discretion when it comes to you now. I'll dish out discipline as I see fit.'

Vegeta smiled and pulled the tray back towards him. 'Well now, maybe it's you who needs to remember? I graduated the officer training yesterday. You don't outrank me any more, Cui, so you don't have carte blanche to punish me, and I don't need to answer your question. And also, fuck you, Cui.'

Cui immediately attempted to yank the tray away again while Vegeta still had his fingers hooked over the lip of it. 'And I graduated last year! I made Lieutenant First class already, Vegeta! I still outrank you!' The brief wrestling over the breakfast tray ended when Vegeta conceded to himself that he was losing, and let go, causing Cui to suddenly stagger back and pull the tray right off the table to splatter its contents down his legs.

Vegeta held on to the urge to laugh and instead just glared his satisfaction at Cui's incensed face. Raditz and Nappa chose this moment to wander in the door. They eyed the situation and drifted to stand behind Vegeta, arms crossed.

'Here they are, Cui, sir,' said Vegeta. 'Was it worth getting so wound up about?'

Cui backed off, snorting with rage and seeming at a loss for what to do, looking between his ruined battle suit, the few spectators and the door. Then he said loudly 'Thanks to you, clumsy ape, I now have to rush to get changed before this morning's assignment detail, or I'd haul you out into the quadrangle right now! Zarbon will hear about this!'

Vegeta folded his arms and sat back as Cui turned to go. 'That's right, run to the teacher to tattle on me!' he taunted at Cui's back. Before he could react Cui wheeled around and struck out at Vegeta across the table, knocking him clear out of his seat and into Nappa. The others around the room erupted into a tittering of exclamations and laughter. While they struggled to their feet, Cui was yelling at Raditz.

'Yeah, are you going to take a swing at an officer, monkey clown? Your life isn't worth that much!'

'Out!' yelled a fat, yellow, aproned cook from the serving hatch. 'No fighting in the mess hall!'

Cui smiled and swept out the door while Vegeta boiled at the humiliation and weighed up the consequences of retaliating. The problem was not just that Cui outranked him...he outmatched him too. Not by much, but enough.

Calm, he told himself. Calm.

Murdering a fellow soldier in the PTO was an offence...but Vegeta had managed to get away with it several times. Frieza had been amused and indulgent with him in this regard so far, at least.

'My savage, darling Prince,' Frieza crooned in his memory. 'What am I to do with you? You are simply incorrigible! Mangostern was a dull fellow, but if you kill one of my favourites I shall be most put out! I'm afraid I'll have to let Zarbon discipline you next time.'

'That Cui is a jumped up little toadstool,' complained Nappa, which was pretty mild criticism for Nappa. 'Come on, let's load up.'

Without further discussion the three of them filed over to the hatch to fill their trays, leaving the mess of Vegeta's first breakfast for the kitchen slaves to clean up. Vegeta found his appetite was diminished anyway, soured by Cui's bullying. On the morning of his first step towards more autonomy in his life, he'd just been reminded how little control he still had.

ooo

Half an hour later he waited in Zarbon's office with a dozen other officers, all there to receive their assignments. Cui was already seated when Vegeta turned up, silently gloating in a way that made Vegeta anxious. Zarbon coolly briefed the officers one by one, not even looking at Vegeta once, and Vegeta felt perspiration prickling his palms as his turn came closer. They were interrupted though, when the door opened and Frieza swept into the room, talking to Dodoria and trailing a couple of clerks. Frieza made his way to the chair behind Zarbon's desk and sat down like it was his own office, putting his feet up on the desk.

'That is why, Dodoria, we can't leave those trade routes through the Baltier wormhole to take care of themselves,' he droned, finishing his point before looking at the stunned and trembling group of junior officers before him. His eyes immediately locked onto Vegeta's with a smile.

'I'm not too late, am I, Zarbon?'

'No, my Lord,' said Zarbon chummily, 'you are never late, and always right on time.'

'Excellent! I'd have hated to miss our little prince's first assignment. Such a momentous occasion!' he smiled at Vegeta. Vegeta didn't know why he should be surprised Frieza had turned up. The other officers were eyeing him with hostility now. He was not liked by pretty much anyone, up to and including his own men Nappa and Raditz, though they had a tie of loyalty to him that went deeper than like. His case was not helped by his perceived celebrity as one of Frieza's favourites. Not that Vegeta would have lowered himself to friendship with any of the Planet Trade Organisation's minions. He despised them all in turn, a few in particular, and Frieza most of all.

'If only your father could see you now!' Frieza said. 'So proud he would be, don't you think? Vegeta?'

'Yes, my Lord,' he replied, shrivelling inside yet again at what sounded like praise but felt like poison.

'Of course he would. He said to me, before that fateful day, "Frieza, I know that my son will grow up to be a fine little monkey, but under you I'm sure he will become the best man a monkey could be!" Isn't that what he said, Dodoria?'

Dodoria's fat pink face split open with a grin at Frieza's cruel joke. 'He did too, my Lord.' According to Frieza, King Vegeta had had enough time to impart a seemingly endless number of thoughts regarding his son and his people before he died.

'Now, Zarbon, don't keep me in suspense any longer. What do you have for our little princeling?'

Zarbon pressed a button on the tablet he was holding, and Vegeta's scouter bleeped as a file was uploaded. He tried to follow the scrolling text as Zarbon spoke.

'It's a purge and retrieval job on Nimbus 3, the third planet of the Nimbrian home system.'

'It says their average power level is only nine!' Vegeta objected. 'It hardly warrants the sending of my team!'

'Temper, Vegeta,' chided Frieza. 'Remember that that is not how one addresses a superior.'

'Apologies, sir, but this task would be more suited to one of the... lesser crews,' he said, earning himself even more displeasure from the officers of the said crews.

Zarbon was glaring at him. 'This is not as simple a task as it looks Vegeta, if you would quell your arrogance for a moment. This is a repossession job. The Nimbrians are physically weak, but they have some highly sophisticated technology – they are not backwater hicks who have no method of space travel and little knowledge of the galaxy. They are former clients who have failed to keep up with their payments. You will face attack not only from those on planet, but likely from other planets in the system, and you will have not only your own selves and your space pods to protect, but two slave transports and their crews. You will not find it easy by any stretch. In fact, the whole thing requires some delicacy that I'm not sure you possess.'

Vegeta swallowed down on his anger. 'I will not fail, General Zarbon.'

'Ah, I recall this task, Zarbon!' said Frieza. 'So irritating that the Nimbrians should react with such defiance to my taking that planet as their default. They signed the contract after all! It is not my fault that their profits haven't grown as they expected. But I like this resolution more. This way I get the planet, and if you do your job properly Vegeta, I get ten thousand new Nimbrian slaves and a smattering of Nimbrian technologists! I can hardly wait. I suspect Nimbrians will make fine slaves with their racial psychological profile.'

'You must disable the planetary defences,' said Zarbon, 'protect the slave ships, collect the individuals on this list and their families to use as hostages, and then oversee the collection of ten thousand healthy, adult slaves before the clean up crew arrive.'

Vegeta's brow knitted with anxiety. It did sound complicated, but he nodded to Zarbon. 'I understand. I will prepare my team immediately, sir.' He turned to leave, but Zarbon's voice halted him again.

'Vegeta, you were not dismissed.'

'Sorry, sir.'

'As your new status of lieutenant is provisional -'

'Provisional!' he interrupted, his eyes darting to Frieza, who was hiding a chuckle behind his steepled hands.

'As your new status of lieutenant is provisional,' Zarbon started again, 'and this assignment is complex, you will be attended by a supervising officer who will monitor your progress, assist and even intervene should it be necessary.'

Vegeta stared at Zarbon, aghast that what he'd imagined would be a moment of triumph was being turned to one of humiliation. 'We can handle it, sir! I can handle it. You should trust me.'

'You'll gain our trust when you've earned it,' said Zarbon.

Vegeta turned to Frieza and did something he would not be proud of when he thought back on it later.

'My Lord Frieza,' he beseeched him, 'this is not fair! I was not told my lieutenant-hood was provisional! Zarbon seeks to treat me as a child still.'

'My dear Vegeta, you forget yourself once more,' replied Frieza, his pink face curling around his shining dark-ruby lips as he smiled. 'You are but a precious child to me – perhaps we don't want you to come to any harm on your first outing? Perhaps we were concerned that your behaviour of late has not been up to the standard we expect of our officers? Now apologise to my excellent general, Zarbon.'

Turning red in the face, Vegeta bowed to Zarbon, knowing that he had just made things much worse for himself. 'Apologies, General-'

The back of Zarbon's boot struck him between the shoulder blades, knocking him face first to the floor, his chin making a hollow sound as it struck and snapped his jaw closed.

'Apology accepted, Lieutenant,' said Zarbon smoothly, and the other junior officers tittered at his joke. Vegeta got to his feet, his chin hurting from the second blow of the morning, and body shaking with impotent fury. He did not dare raise his eyes to anyone as he asked, 'Who will the supervising officer be?'

'Lieutenant Cui has volunteered for the job,' said Zarbon.

'Thank you, sir.'

'You are free to go prepare for the mission. The slave ships leave at midday. Do not fail.'

'He won't fail me, Zarbon,' he heard Frieza's voice from behind him. 'He wouldn't dare. I look forward to your report, Lieutenant…Cui, was it?'

ooo

Vegeta walked his way slowly to the ready room with a rage in his brain so black he could barely see where he was going. The room was half full of soldiers pulling on armour, checking inventories and talking amongst themselves. Raditz and Nappa stood as he came towards them, but their expressions fell when they saw his face.

'Something wrong, Vegeta?' ventured Nappa as he swept past them.

'Outside! Now!'

The two other Saiyans exchanged a look and Raditz rolled his eyes, but they followed their prince out the door and onto the open concourse where they wouldn't be overheard. Above them the black, perpetually star filled sky of Planet Frieza 79 twinkled ever onwards. The thin layer of manufactured atmosphere on this planet barely scattered the harsh light of its sun at all, and Frieza liked it that way.

Vegeta stomped away from the buildings, feeling like tearing something apart, but as there was only Nappa and Raditz to choose from he refrained. Besides, a murderous tempter tantrum was the last thing he needed right now.

'Cui!' he spat, eventually. 'Fucking Cui is coming along with us on this job as my supervisor!'

'Oh shit,' said Nappa.

'Anything that goes slightly not by the book is going to end up in front of Zarbon and Frieza. And Cui will no doubt create problems if he can't find any!'

'We can do it, boss,' said Raditz. 'We won't stuff up. We're the best purge crew there is; everybody knows that. We'll do a perfect run – in, burn it up, and out before he has a chance to wreck things.'

'If only! It's not going to be a straight out fight or purge; it's going to be a mess – keeping specific people alive while defending slave ships! Zarbon is hoping I'll screw it up, but I'm not going to. You two!' He glared at them each in turn. 'I will tolerate absolutely no deviation from my orders. When I've come up with a plan, you stick to it, and if things begin to go sideways report back to me for new orders. No improvising, no side missions, and no looting, do you understand? And we won't be hanging around when we're done either.'

They nodded sullenly. Unless the inhabitants were strong enough to present a challenge to the Saiyans, the best things about their missions were the brain numbing buzz of wanton destruction, and the post-purge fucking around when they would take the time to be themselves for a few hours before the clean up crews arrived. It was an added incentive to purge ahead of schedule. Once, on a job that had been over-estimated, they gained themselves two whole days of tantalising freedom. Usually this meant snooping, looting, (especially of food they could consume right then and there, and Empire credits which they could smuggle back to base to be spent when the opportunity arose at refuelling stations), grizzly barbecues and outright idleness. For Nappa it also meant going on mouse hunts, as he called them – tracking down unlucky survivors who would otherwise be left for the clean up crew, and playing with them before finally killing them. Vegeta found the kind of "play" that Nappa got off on disgusting, but he allowed it as long as he didn't have to witness it. Not this time though.

'The slave ships leave at midday. Have everything ready an hour before then. I want us to leave ahead of the ships, and don't let Cui know! I need to study the intel they gave me.'

ooo

It went well.

Vegeta held off the hypersleep in his space pod for several hours while he continued to study and plan, both the information he'd been given and extra notes on the Nimbrian system and people that he'd downloaded to his pod before they left. Four days of hypersleep later he woke hours ahead of their scheduled arrival, then he woke Raditz and Nappa so that he could slavishly go over his plan with them. Cui was an hour and a half behind them with the slave ships, and thankfully still asleep and unable to keep tabs on them.

To begin with they went straight to the largest metropolitan hub, their pods crashing down into the purple fields of a large park near the edge of the city. Within ten minutes they had kidnapped a terrified citizen, had them direct them to the civil records department, strong-armed their way in and had an office full of gibbering civil servants weeping in fear as they frantically turned up the records on the individuals they were looking for. The Nimbrians recognised the armour of Frieza's men. Some of them even recognised them as Saiyans. Vegeta knew that their presence would soon be widely known, but their tool here was going to be speed, not secrecy. Within half an hour Vegeta, Nappa and Raditz were on separate commandeered shuttles headed to different addresses throughout the city, with hostages as guides. With ten minutes to spare before the slave ships entered orbit they already had half the people on their list and more than half the families.

'Nappa, Raditz – take your shuttles and meet the ships,' Vegeta told them over their scouters.

Another half an hour later, Vegeta had the last scientists that lived in the vicinity of the city bound, gagged and in his possession. The city was in an uproar, with sirens going off and no doubt the planets media and military scrambling to meet this situation. Vegeta took his own shuttle up to the slave ships and had the lowly deckhands disembark his quivering cargo. He held his nose as he took the shuttle back down to the planet's surface – the stink of piss and vomit and abject terror the captives had left behind was overpowering.

'Vegeta!' Cui had shouted across the scouter link when he finally woke from his hypersleep. 'How dare you begin without me!'

'I posted our departure time as soon as I knew it,' said Vegeta truthfully. 'It is not my fault if my supervising officer paid no heed to the schedule.'

'Where are you, Vegeta? And what are you doing?'

'I'm following my plan.'

'Well, what is your plan?'

'Watch and learn, Cui – I'm busy. And if you want to be useful you can help Nappa and Raditz destroy the nearby missile bases and silos before the slave ships land.'

'You insolent little fu-'

Vegeta silenced the channel Cui was talking over and turned to his trembling hostage.

'Which is the largest media institution in the city?'

'Nimbus S-state Broadcasting Company,' said the creature. For the first time Vegeta noticed it was a male, green haired and weak, with a short, lank tail curled between its legs. The green tinge to its skin may have been natural or fright.

'Show me the way.'

As the shuttle crossed over the city again they seemed to attract a good deal of attention. Military attention. Obviously Vegeta's high chi readings were giving away his location. He spied a missile flying in from his left and ducked the shuttle to avoid it, but didn't see the one that came up from the rear. It exploded from the back of the shuttle to the front, and Vegeta threw himself through the windshield, right on the edge of the shockwave. The hostage was blown out behind him, on fire, and perhaps dead, but it didn't matter any more. Vegeta had spotted the tower of the NSBC, and he no longer needed the hostage or the shuttle.

Explosive rounds ripped across his back as he continued, tearing his battlesuit and bouncing off his armour. Annoyed, he raised a chi shield and stopped to face a hovering gunship. Its automatic guns whirled with the speed they launched the rounds at him, but now they just ricocheted off his shield and fell like deadly raindrops into the city streets. Next came a missile from another gunship at his back. Vegeta caught it with ease and sent it hurtling back where it came from, causing a rather satisfying explosion, which raised a smile on his face. He could see the panic on the faces of the other pilots and gunners through the windows of their hovering crafts as they realised they were probably all about to die.

'Yes, you are correct,' he said softly. And he needed these guys dead before he entered the media building. He didn't want them blowing the place up before he'd had the chance to use it.

He shot around the back of the closest gunship and grabbed it by the tail, then spun and threw it at the next in line.

'Boom,' he said as the two vehicles did just that, turning to shrapnel and burning fuel in the blink of an eye. Turning, he charged his hand with chi. 'Who's next?'

In less than three minutes he cleansed the city of all the military gunships, troop carriers and tanks that he could see, but he didn't have time to survey his work. He had to get inside the building before it was evacuated or something equally inconvenient.

'Nappa, what are you up to?' he asked into the open com link of his scouter.

'Just landing the ships now, Vegeta. This one's landing where our pods did at... what's it called? Cretin!' Vegeta heard a distant yelp as someone was quickly interrogated by Nappa. 'Pago Regional Park. Raditz and Cui are landing the other at Athletic Stadium a few clicks away.'

'Good. Much resistance?

'Didn't see any in orbit yet, but we've got some waiting for us on the way down.'

Vegeta grunted in acknowledgement, and turned back to the Nimbus State Broadcasting building.

He swooped down low, in through the lobby to find a scene of chaos. Hovering camera rigs zipped back and forwards following crews who were unsure whether to head out into the city, hide inside the building or just try and make a run for it. Security and facilities staff crowded round, watching the large screens on the wall, crying, and at his sudden appearance a cacophony of screams started up as the whole panicked crowd tried to press itself into the corners, up the stairwell and into the elevator. The bright colouring of these aliens made it look like a rainbow had vomited all over the lobby. Guards fired on him and he carelessly swatted energy blasts at them while he kept his eyes on the crowd, searching for a likely target. It was hard to tell with aliens just what constituted "expensively dressed" but eventually he decided on an older woman with electric orange hair, wearing a distinctively cut suit in eye-grabbing red. Several younger people clustered around her holding equipment and even just hanging onto her as if she were their mother. He picked out several official passes hanging around her neck, the NSBC logo prominent among them.

He reached down and hauled her out of the fray by the back of her collar. To her credit she did not scream, merely struggled wildly as the crowd parted below them, people climbing over their fellows in an effort to get away from the menace.

'Who are you?' he asked and shook her when she did not answer immediately..

'Anbolie Kager!' she gasped. 'Senior journalist for...for NSBC news programming!'

'Well,' he smiled. 'Looks like you just got yourself an exclusive scoop!'

ooo

'I am Prince Vegeta of the Planet Trade Organisation. As you may know, the wise rulers of your civilisation have defaulted on their payments to Lord Frieza, and he does not take lightly to freeloaders. He would like to take partial recompense in the form of technical expertise. Listen carefully to the following list of your favoured scientists and engineers. They and their families are to be delivered, ALIVE, to my crew. This is not open to negotiation. Your military will not protect you. Even now my comrades are destroying your tanks and gunships and troops. No rescue from your home planet will make it through either. We are planet destroyers, and such things cannot harm or stop us. You should feel honoured that Lord Frieza should have sent such elite warriors to collect his debt, for this task is well below us, and we will not be pleased if you waste our time.'

He did not openly threaten to populace, but let the implication hang. One way or the other, nearly everyone on this rock was going to be dead by the end of the day, but it was easier for him and the slave ship crews if the Nimbrians turned over the scientists themselves. They would not want to come willingly, but if he told the general populace that they were about to be slaughtered except for the scientists then every man, woman and child would claim to be a professor of terraforming or astro-engineering to try and get on the slave ships. He could lie, but preferred not to. People would believe what they needed and do what they could to save their own skins; he didn't need to sully his honour further by lying.

With this in mind he smiled slightly as he began to read the list of names from his scouter. So far he was quite enjoying his first broadcast appearance. The fools in the studio shook like leaves but the hovering camera rig held steady on his face.

'You have two hours from midday to deliver the scientists to the waiting transports at Pago Regional Park and Athletic Stadium on the out skirts of your capital, so I suggest you hurry.'

He nodded to the crew to cut the broadcast.

'Now have that looped on every station and media for the next two hours,' he told them. 'I'll be back before then.'

ooo

He rejoined Nappa and Raditz for their high-spirited demolition of the military, which was attempting to destroy the slave ships. It was not long before the Nimbrians pulled back. An hour later when a lone shuttle slowly approached under a white flag it was to deliver the first of the scientists with family in tow. By the end of the two hours all but one the required people had been snared. Vegeta was not worried. They were sure to present themselves after he made his next public announcement.

ooo

'We thank you for your co-operation in delivering those on our wanted list. The remaining scientist Barga Len Dor should present themselves forthwith at one of our transports.

'The rest of the recompense Frieza requires is ten thousand healthy, adult slaves. No warriors, military, elderly or infirm will be accepted. The last debt to be paid is your planet.'

Vegeta's eyes flicked over to the skeleton crew that had volunteered to remain at the station for his return. They gasped and cried out, some of them staggering at the news. Pathetic. Didn't they understand that the universe didn't care for their drama? They were flotsam; inconsequential walking corpses.

'Beginning immediately, my crew will purge the planet of sentient life. If you wish to be one of the ten thousand slaves, make your way to Pago Park or Athletic Stadium, outside your capital. We are standing by to assess your eligibility.'

As he left the studio a realisation hit him and he stopped in the doorway and turned back to the crew who were still staring at him, aghast.

'I guess I don't need you anymore,' he said. The room erupted into action and screams, and Vegeta released quick bursts of chi, trying to make each one count for his own satisfaction. 'As easy as shooting drunks in a holding cell,' he said as the last one fell, charred, to the floor. He exited through the wall.

Panic reigned on the streets and in the air above the city as he left it behind. No doubt every space-faring vessel on the planet's surface would be attempting to launch very soon. There wouldn't be enough to take even a fraction of the populace to safety, and they'd be figuring that out pretty soon. Perhaps there would be bloodshed in the ports? He would let the ships leave. Purging the planet meant only removing the people from it, it didn't matter how, and besides, he would need hundreds of men to stop all the ships.

'Nappa, now is your hour,' he said as he touched down outside the barriers in Pago Park.

'All righty!' chuckled the older Saiyan, taking to the air.

ooo

By nightfall half the planet was razed and the slave quota was almost filled. Nappa, Raditz and Vegeta took turns guarding the ships and decimating the towns, cities and villages of Nimbus 3. He could have left Cui to defend one of the ships, but he just didn't trust him enough to leave him in sole charge of a ship. Vegeta felt his plan was running perfectly, and he could get no more than furious, snappish replies when he pointed this out to his "Supervising officer".

When he wasn't out having his taste of destruction, Vegeta kept one eye on the messy, noisy, bloody matter of accepting and declining slaves. The able slave crews manned the barriers, letting everyone through one by one, but split into two lines. A screen set up hid the fact that one way led to the ship and the crew member who would manacle them, and the other led to a burly wrangler with a high-voltage electric prod and a rapidly growing mound of bodies. Some people were figuring out what was going on when they got to the head of the line, causing all sorts of drama when they tried to back out just before they made it to sorting, and even more so when they made it through sorting and found themselves pointed towards the short walk.

'Disgusting,' Vegeta muttered, seeing a middle aged man beg and then make a sudden dash for the other queue. A crew member shot him with a small chi blast between the shoulder blades in full view of the queuing masses, and another outbreak of hysteria swept the crowd. They surged against the barrier, shaking the post that Vegeta balanced on, looking down and out at it all. He decided that being a slave crew member was truly a shitty job. Being this close to so much angst and self-pity grated against his nerves. He felt about ready to jump down and kick some weeping fools to death.

Nappa reappeared out of the dusky sky.

'It's your turn for some fun, boss,' he said, coming to a stop in the air before him.

'Good,' he replied, but then his attention was caught by the shout of the slave ship's first mate from below.

'Lieutenant Vegeta, we've got five thousand slaves aboard. We're done here.'

'Thank the Gods,' Vegeta answered, but his words were lost in the roaring of the terrified crowd as this news spread through them. The barriers flexed as people crushed their fellows against them, as if by force they could bring the quota number up and keep their lives.

'Back, back! We don't need no more of you squishies!' roared a brown, warthog-like slaver as he bodily held the crowd back and a crewmate dragged the gate shut.

Vegeta charged a large, showy ball of chi in his hand. The crowd hushed slightly and those at the front attempted to back away. He could hear his name whispered, screamed and cried over an over, like the choir that would surely usher his entrance to Hell when he died.

'I'll give you a head start, as I'm so sporting,' he shouted down. 'I suggest you run!'

The screams escalated as the tide turned back on itself, crushing bodies as the confusion manifested in waves of compression travelling though the horde.

Vegeta frowned and let the chi dissipate. This despair was all so dreary up close. He dropped to the ground to inspect the paperwork presented to him by the first mate, ignoring at the din behind him for now. As soon as the slave quotas were filled they could see the ships safely off and concentrate on clearing the populace. He checked in on Raditz via the scouters to see how close they were to filling their ship.

'Another half an hour the captain reckons.'

'Good,' he replied, looking off though the mesh of the expandable barrier towards the smoking city. Half an hour and they'd be practically home free. Not much could go wrong from that point outwards. Zarbon and Cui would have to eat crow. He wondered if Frieza would be pleased. He found it hard to tell at times whether Frieza wished the Saiyans to succeed or not. When they messed up or were slow (and the bar was fairly arbitrary when it came to what Frieza deemed slow or a failure) the punishment ranged from Frieza's peevishness and shitty future assignments, all the way to life threatening beatings. Likewise, when Frieza decided to indulge his 'little princeling' and his men, the rewards were also unpredictable. Most likely it would be just be more double-edged praise, designed to make others jealous, not to make Vegeta feel good. But at times there had been other rewards – feasts in Frieza's own chambers, accompanying the tyrant on some engagement on a civilised planet, or even, once, on a pleasure trip just to witness a scheduled supernova light up a nebula.

The rewards Vegeta really wanted though were more challenging assignments, higher rank and more autonomy. Vegeta found himself in a constant war of desires. He wanted to be free from Frieza, but the only way to get away for sure was to become strong enough to slay him. The only way to become stronger was to be constantly fighting, forcing his body to new lengths and pushing it past its limits again and again, so it healed stronger than ever before. And so, ironically, the fastest way to become stronger than Frieza and free himself, was to keep working for him.

If he could get the most challenging assignments, the faster this process would become. The amassing of strength and the surpassing of Frieza's power was the desire that lay under all his actions. His father told him he would be the Legendary Super Saiyan one day. He couldn't let the memory of his father down. One way or another, he must avenge him, and he must become that shining pinnacle of his race – a Super Saiyan. Revenge, ascension and freedom. For Vegeta, the purposes were mingled in his mind, and he could not possibly have one without the other two. There was little doubt for him that he couldn't defeat Frieza without ascending. This was his purpose – what he'd been born to do – the last, most powerful scion of the Saiyan Empire, destined for glory and blood-soaked retribution – it was certainly the only thing he lived for.

In the meantime, he wanted higher rank because it sickened him to be looked down upon by anyone. He should be no-ones lackey. He could accept that he could do nothing but roll over for the likes of Dodoria, Zarbon and Frieza for now, but doing the same for Cui and any other officer in the PTO burned like acid at his pride.

And more long assignments would be a relief. The less thumbs he was under the better; and there was nothing he valued more in Frieza's service than the stolen moments where he could pretend he was his own master. Not having to face the cretins in the PTO for days or weeks at a time, and having more reasons to stop in at refuelling stations and wayside planets and make good use of the looted credits they'd amassed.

They had quite a bit of cash between them at the moment, waiting for a chance to be spent. Nappa and Raditz would probably want to spend theirs on black market booze, gambling, strip clubs and whores, and most of all, piles and piles of the best food they could get their hands on. Vegeta was all for the food – little could be said of the usual fare on Frieza's bases, other than it kept you alive. He didn't mind the drinking, though he hated to get drunk, and hated the others when they were drunk too. He didn't enjoy gambling – at least, not on a game of chance. He had once lost most of his money during a game of gambit-hand that he hadn't even particularly wanted to play. He'd been angry, especially towards Raditz who had gotten him into the game against his better judgement, saying that it was a lot more fun when the stakes were high. After the game was over he'd stalked the streets until he found the winner of the game, mugged him and broke his neck. Then he'd beaten Raditz so badly that he and Nappa had had to shell out most of their cash anyway to pay for Raditz's stay in a public regen tank before they could leave the refuelling base.

The few times they'd been, he'd appreciated the strip clubs at the same time as he hated the tawdriness of them. He hated seeing the girls twist and contort in attempt to please, not because they wanted to please but because they wanted money. They disgusted him, but at the same time seeing that naked flesh gave him fuel for his imagination when he tugged at himself alone in his cell at night. In his dreams they danced for him, jealously vying for his attention, and he was the one on stage.

And the whores...What would he do if Raditz insisted he come along to some bordello again? He'd been twice...If strippers disgusted him, whores filled him with loathing, but both times he'd still been aroused, completed the deed, and enjoyed it while he was doing it...But the instant it was over shame flooded him. And it was worse than the strippers because he was disgusted at himself. He felt dirty. Paying for sex? Paying? It somehow made him feel less than what he was. Why was he having to pay for something that should be given to him willingly? He was a prince! It should have been his right to pick his own mate, and only the best Saiyan woman, and she would have been his and no one else's! Instead his had been reduced coupling with begrudging alien hookers who wanted payment up front.

Still, he remembered the way it felt to be inside a woman. Wanting it all over again made him feel like he was no better than an instinct-driven animal. Sometimes he promised he'd never stoop so low again. Sometimes he knew he might break that promise.

He shuddered.

He had little to do with the slaves of any gender who worked on Frieza's planets in the shipyards and factories. He'd seen well enough the consequences of fucking with Frieza's livestock right under his nose, so he scrupulously avoided the slave quarters just like any other male soldier who knew what was good for him. All his interaction with females had been during his travels, so nearly all the women he'd met were whores, bar workers, strippers and slaves in the seedy twilight settlements that sprang up around refuelling stations. Out of the ones who were free to take him to bed there was barely a handful that he'd found attractive. However, he'd soon found that just because he was willing, didn't mean the female was. He had no clue how to entice a girl with anything but the crudest propositions, and his awkward attempts been met with scorn at best. At worst, they were terrified. His cold-killer reputation was already starting to precede him, and whenever a woman realised who he was, the fear in their eyes dowsed his desire with contempt. Taking advantage of their terror would hardly be more honourable than Nappa's mouse hunts.

Still...maybe he would come across one who didn't fear him? Or maybe he should just ignore the next girl's fear of him? So what if they were scared? He wouldn't hurt them...he just wanted...

'Vegeta!'

Nappa's voice recalled him to the present.

'Are you going to take your turn blowing shit up, or are we just going to wait for the other ships to be done loading?'

'We'll wait,' he told Nappa. He looked back out the gates and realised that nearly all the crowds had dispersed now. Just a few desperate or deluded people pressed up against the gate. Vegeta walked closer, curious as to what kind of idiot would still be here. How many could he kill just standing at the gate?

'Please!' shouted a man nearly at his shoulder. 'It took us hours to get here from Corrs City! Are we not to have a chance?'

Vegeta glanced up to see who spoke but his eyes met a pair of wide, purple eyes framed by shocking pink hair. A girl about his own age was standing next to the speaker with her arms resting on the top of the gate, staring at Vegeta.

The warthog-faced slaver crew member laughed at the man who stood next to her. 'We're here to take slaves, not be fair!' he said.

The man was weeping as he spoke. 'Just take my daughter, please! She's too young to die!'

'We've already met our quota. Now piss off or let me put you out of your misery right here.' The slaver raised his hand threateningly and the man heaved a sob and grabbed the girl's shoulders. Now the girl looked back and forth between Vegeta and the slaver, wordless terror on her face as she faced her doom.

'Please!' screamed the man. 'Look how pretty she is! Look how young! Tell me there is no one on that ship you'd rather swap out for her! Save my daughter's life! Take her, please!'

Vegeta found that he couldn't look away. He agreed with her father – there were piles of uglier, older females they'd packed on board. The way she was staring at him made him feel a strange pulling sensation in his chest. Or was it his loins?

'I've had enough of your whining,' said the slaver.

'Wait!' said Nappa, stepping forward and leering at the girl. 'I'll take her.'

'Oh, thank the Gods, thank the Gods!' cried the man even as the girl cringed away from Nappa. Nappa snatched her wrist and lifted her over the barrier, as careless as if she were a doll.

'No, thank you!' he said to the man, flicking a tiny wasp of chi at him. The girl couldn't see around the bulk of Nappa's body, but she seemed to have guessed what might have happened to make the dull crackle and smell of singed flesh.

'Dad! No!'

She thrashed around at the end of Nappa's arm, trying to get free, her frightened eyes coming back to Vegeta's again and again. Vegeta suddenly realised he was looking at Nappa's next mouse hunt victim.

'No!' he shouted.

Suddenly everyone was looking at him. Vegeta hadn't thought past the immediate need he'd felt to stop the way things were going. He realised his heart was pounding as Nappa frowned at him.

'I know you said there'd be no time for screwing around, Vegeta,' Nappa protested, 'but we've got half an hour till the other ship is done, and Cui will never know.'

'No,' Vegeta repeated, glad that Nappa had handed him a reason for his outburst. 'This mission will be perfect.'

She was still staring at him, her chest heaving with panicked breaths and he found it hard to think and look at her at the same time. Her skin had a slight coloured sheen to it like all the other Nimbrians – hers was a pale opalescent pink that matched her hair. Her short tail, covered in fine pink fur was stiff with fright. Her white blouse showed off the top of the swell of her breasts and her round shoulders. She was just a bit plump, but her waist was narrow and swelled out to round hips in a way that suggested to Vegeta's hands that they could rest on those curves quite happily. She was the most delicious-looking female he'd ever seen.

'So what do I do with her then?' complained Nappa.

When Vegeta didn't answer immediately Nappa huffed and said 'Okay, okay, I'll just kill her then and chuck her on the slag heap.'

'NO!' shouted Vegeta for the second time, his voice mingled with the girl's cry. A feeling of panic had come over him at the thought of this gem thrown away with the rest of this planet's refuse.

'What then?'

'I'll deal with her,' Vegeta said, stepping forward and grabbing her other wrist. She was trembling from head to toe now and looked like she was about to pass out. Nappa glared at him

'Oh, will you now?'

'Yes.'

'You're just going to kill her, then?' said Nappa, sneering down at Vegeta knowingly.

'Yes.'

'Then you can do that right here.'

Vegeta realised he didn't know what he wanted to do or was going to do, but he knew he didn't want to do that.

'No.'

'No? If you wanted her for yourself you could have just said, Vegeta, but I don't appreciate you dressing up your hypocrisy as righteousness.'

Vegeta glared up at Nappa and pulled on the girl's wrist. Nappa released her.

'Appreciate this, you insubordinate fuck,' Vegeta said, leaping up with a lightning fast kick to the bigger man's guts. Nappa, taken completely by surprise, and was launched up over the barriers to land in the midst of the doomed rabble outside.

Vegeta tossed the fainting girl over his shoulder before he had to deal with any more questions and took to the air, flying up out of sight behind the slave ship.

Author's note: So, what do you think of the opening chapter? Leave me a review to let me know! I'll be posting the second chapter soonish.

Also, I wrote this section while at work and under immense pressure. I wonder if it shows at all in the prose or subject matter?