Well, I avoiding posting for YEARS while incessantly saying that I would update soon... and then when I finally update my profile to proclaim my retirement, guess what? I upload a chapter. Irony of the best sort :)
Anyhow, you might recognize bits and pieces of this from an old story that I wrote with my good friend FinalFlashX called "Role Reversal." I'll explain the details after the chapter. For now, enjoy.
"My, what a lovely little planet."
The tiny tyrant observed his mighty subordinates' home. While usually one for the lavish amenities of life, his latest childish outburst had left his private quarters in a state of... "disrepair" (flames, debris, corpses, and the like). So, while his standard observation lounge was undergoing restoration, the fiendish creature was relegated to what originally was a storage chamber. At least the view was pleasant.
One unfamiliar with the galaxy's overlord would not think of Frieza as the most dangerous, vile, and unpredictable monster in existence. He was small, frail, glistening white... even his horns were well-kept and crisp. However, to minds familiar, all it took was mention of his devilish grin to bring chills to the spine. He truly was infamous, even to warriors like the Saiyans.
The Arcosian slowly swished his finger in a glass of pure red wine. Just like his father used to, before Frieza brutally slaughtered him and took control of the family empire. Regardless, the malicious leader had something more devious than murder on his mind. Yet, it was something perhaps more satisfying, in his view. So, a few days prior, the tyrant requested King Vegeta's presence to discuss "business matters."
The opportunity to mentally destroy someone so arrogant like King Vegeta was something that didn't come up very often. The king had been overstepping Frieza's perceived boundaries a bit lately, that was for sure. The standard business arrangement between Frieza and the Saiyans was a classic Arcosian standard: servitude/slavery in exchange for, well, not committing genocide against their species. King Vegeta, being the bold and brash man that he was, did not take too kindly to the situation, and was tiptoeing the line ever so slightly. It was a nuisance to the galactic menace, and he did not enjoy nuisances.
Luckily for him, as soon as he sipped his first droplet of wine, the doors to his chamber swung open.
"Frieza! I have arrived!" barked the extraordinarily deep voice of King Vegeta. His cape fluttered as he stalked into the room, chin held high. It wasn't a secret to anyone that he thought highly of himself; that was an attribute that Frieza intended to change.
Allowing a slight smirk to seep through his purple lips, Frieza turned around in his hovering chair. "Good to see you, Vegeta!"
Seconds passed by after the Saiyan's grunt-in-response.
"Perhaps you're forgetting something?" He gestured towards the floor below.
The haughty Saiyan king scowled, his darkened eyes narrowing. "I will never bow to you. This was supposed to be a business meeting—nothing more and nothing less."
Frieza's smirk quickly stifled as he placed his glass of wine on the chair's armrest, and then clasped his hands together. He began drumming his fingertips periodically. "Even business partners can still treat each other with respect. Wouldn't you say, Vegeta? Don't make me ask again."
Vegeta guffawed. "Surely you jest. I am the King of all Saiyans, Frieza! I do not heed to petty orders from the likes of yo-"
Before he could continue his pugnacious shouting, the king was flung to the ground with a flick of Frieza's wrist. "Oh, my! How peculiar! I see you changed your feelings, Vegeta. How thoughtful of you, really!" the Arcosian stated with his usual smirk.
"Argh... urgh... Fri-Frieza!" the king shouted from his unmovable kneeling position. "Let me up now, or I swear you will regret this!"
Frieza glared at his opposition. "No need to get testy now. All I wanted was some courtesy, Vegeta. The king of all Saiyans should certainly know how to act respectfully to his superior."
As the tyrant removed his telepathic hold on the Saiyan king, Vegeta was finally allowed to stand. He did so with a huff. Frieza was already getting on his nerves. The fiend was disdainfully patronizing, and the one thing that struck him the worst was the fact that Frieza believed him to be spineless and weak. Nothing—not even Frieza's condescension—perturbed the great king more than being thought of as weak.
"Let us begin our meeting, Frieza. This is already a tremendous waste of my time, so you better make this assembly worth my trouble," the king commanded with a glare. "And next time you think about trying anything foolish, I would strongly reconsider. Angering someone of my caliber is not wise."
"Oh, I can assure you that this meeting will not be a waste of the mighty king's time, Vegeta." Frieza smiled. "You can trust me."
"Well... carry on, then," Vegeta boomed. His voice, even for a Saiyan, was unusually low in pitch.
Frieza nodded, and his red, beady eyes narrowed. It was time. "Certainly. Just one teensy tiny little thing, though… May I ask you how your son is doing today?"
The upper lip of King Vegeta curled ever so slightly, and his already harsh glare intensified. "What do you care of my son, Frieza?"
"Well… How to put this… I suppose I care quite a bit about your son, actually," the Arcosian said, feigning as much kindness that he could muster. "In fact, I think the little brat is, quite simply, astounding."
"Of course he is," Vegeta said. "He's my son. What of it?"
Frieza shrugged. "What of it, you ask? Well, the other day, I had a simple thought." The tyrant's eyes gleamed with pleasure. "By the way, please let me know if you're lost during this, Vegeta. I know your planet isn't exactly full of scholars."
"What are you getting at, imp?" Vegeta clenched his fist with dark eyes. "Be weary of how you respond. I did not intend on killing today."
Frieza ignored his threat.
"You see, I was looking into the vastness of space-what a marvelous view, by the way-and as I said, I had a thought. And it was excellent." The Arcosian grinned, fancifully indulging in all the hammy splendor of the mental torture.
"I had a thought about the mighty Saiyan prince—your precious little son, what a boy—working under the most powerful force the universe has ever known. Me!" His eyes narrowed. "He would be an errand boy, or an attendant, if you can imagine. Now, obviously he would be living here, as fulfilling my every desire takes a lot of hard work and time."
The tyrant's soulless eyes narrowed into darkened slits as his plan unfurled into action. "Let me tell you, Vegeta… I loved that thought. I really did. It tickled my funny bone, per se. Anyhow, Vegeta, do you know what this means?"
Frieza was really enjoying himself now. His eyes now glistened with pride and his grin had widened into barely-contained laughter. On the opposite side of the spectrum was Vegeta, who was speechless. The king immediately felt his legs buckle as he dropped onto one knee in pure shock, his eyes widened with incalculable amounts of anguish. Would the cruel tyrant really separate him from his son, his only pride and joy? It was maddening.
"Y-you wouldn't dare, Frieza... I... I will get the Saiyan army! I will KILL YOU! I will kill EVERYONE!" He clamored, jolting his head upward to stare into the beady eyes of his ruthless adversary.
The ice-jin chuckled. "Au contraire, Vegeta. You brought this upon yourself. If you weren't such a cheeky little monkey, maybe I would have allowed you to keep your boy." The Arcosian stared in Vegeta's lost eyes. "Actually, come to think of it… I am feeling a bit kind today. My medical team recommends a daily good deed, you know? So, how about this: I will give you three days until I come and take your son. Fair? Seventy-two hours of pure bliss."
The words hardly registered in the king's mind. His second knee fell to the ground until he was basically begging at the feet of Frieza. His son would be taken from him. But... why? Why him? This was a question he had to know the answer to immediately.
He pursed his lips together and glared at the nearly laughing tyrant in front of him. "Why?! How dare you do this, Frieza! This is a breach of every agreement we have ever made! I have done nothing but assist you!"
"Because I know that you can't do a single thing about it. You can't stop me, Vegeta," Frieza quickly retorted with his trademark grin. "You can sure try, but I am much too powerful. Such a pity, really, that it had to come to this, but there comes a point in time where unbridled arrogance can only get you so far."
The king instantly spat at the ground of his proclaimed superior. Vegeta couldn't let that happen. Far too much was riding on his son's survival... It was something that the entire Saiyan race depended on.
With a grunt, the Saiyan hopped up from his seated position. His fists were furiously clenched. "Frieza, you have made a vital mistake—one that I will not let you make. You may think you are untouchable, but I... I am the mighty King Vegeta." He popped his neck. "I have slain millions of creatures, beaten countless foes, and despite that you still question my strength. I will show you the true meaning of power!"
Immediately, the king burst out of his standing position and into the air, creating a stream of crackling energy behind him as he charged at Frieza. The Arcosian hopped out of his chair with brilliant speed, and before Vegeta could react, the Saiyan was sent crashing to the ground with a flick of Frieza's wrist. The powerful king grunted in pain several times as he ricocheted through the room, creating tiny potholes, before he finally stopped moving and crashed into the wall.
As Frieza mockingly chuckled, the king attempted to get up, but he fell back down once more, and slid down the wall until he was completely lying on the floor, bloodied and bruised from one simple attack. It was over before it began.
Frieza cackled at his adversary. "HA! Was it just me, or was that the most pathetic thing ever to happen in the entire galaxy?! I barely even had to lift a finger, and down goes the angry chimp!"
The icy-white tyrant strolled until he stopped right next to the injured and bloodied Vegeta. Despite the massive difference in size, Frieza had demonstrated one indisputable fact: He was much, much stronger than any Saiyan alive.
"Three more days, Vegeta. Three more days until you give your son to me." Frieza snapped his fingers and two of his soldiers quickly entered the area, both dressed in the usual white armor and helmets. "Send the 'king' back to his home planet. Have a nice flight, Vegeta. Oh, and say hi to your son for me."
As the Saiyan king was dragged out of Frieza's chamber, the Arcosian slowly sat back in his floating chair, gave a content sigh, and called for a refill on his wine. It had spilled a bit in the commotion, it seemed. The oppressive leader softly closed his eyes, and contemplated if he could manage to wait three whole days to thoroughly eradicate Vegeta's hopes and dreams once and for all.
Several hours later...
Vegeta was desperate. Everything had been turned on its side by Frieza's out-of-the-blue plan, and he had to think of a way to get his son safe from the tyrant's harm. The king sat in his throne, pleading with his mind to think of an idea. And then... it hit him.
In a flare of newfound strength and willpower, the king burst out of his chair. He had an idea, and it would be one for the ages.
"Hey, Prince Vegeta, they asked for you at Terrace F. Somethin' about being escorted to the launch station… or somethin'."
An irritated grumble echoed throughout the giant room as a young boy with black, flame-like hair turned his head towards the door. The prince, in the middle of a typical training session, creased his brow as a scowl quickly formed.
"Haven't I told you to never ever come in here, Nappa?!" shouted the enraged warrior as he spun around to look at his disruptor.
His eyes—dark as night, like his old man's—bored holes into the older Saiyan's. Nappa was a true behemoth in every sense of the word. He was as bulky and muscular as he was tall, and the gargantuan beast towered nearly eight feet into the air. Unlike most other Saiyans, however, the hulking figure lacked a thick mane of hair; all he was able to grow was a thin goatee that outlined his mouth. The young prince couldn't stand to even give a passing glance to his ugly face. If he weren't general of the Saiyan army, Nappa would be a social outcast; after all, hair was a very important aspect of Saiyan culture.
"Leave now before I decide to punish you for this insolence!" The boy, while young, had a surprisingly deep voice for his age—probably from his father's genetics.
"But…this is coming straight from your old man! He wants to see you at the station!" clarified the brute as he began to take a step inside of the prince's training grounds. A fierce stare from the young Saiyan was enough to deter him from doing so, and Nappa quickly retracted his hulking appendage.
Vegeta sighed as he walked over to his discarded royal armor and cape, which was folded neatly on the ground. Despite being prone to outbursts and fits of adolescent vexation, the prince still managed to maintain a posh eloquence expected of Saiyan royalty. As he observed his outfit, young Vegeta couldn't help but be a bit surprised that his father wanted to speak with him. It was only a few times a year that the esteemed king managed to grace the boy with his presence.
"Fine, then. I will go to the launch station to meet with my father," stated the young prince. He turned his head towards Nappa once again. The gargantuan figure was still. "Well, what are you waiting for, you idiot? Can't you see that if I am to meet my father, I will have to look presentable?"
"Oh, uh, yeah, of course!" exclaimed Nappa as he rushed to assist with armoring the boy. Vegeta remained motionless as his custom-made breastplate with the royal insignia slid over his head and firmly onto his body. With a flourish of his scarlet cape, the heir to the Saiyan throne promptly exited the training grounds with his colossal companion left lurching behind him.
The pair walked through the palace corridors in silence, but the bodyguard was notably behind the young boy. The prince always despised walking next to Nappa; not only was his stench at worst unbearable and at best a nuisance, but for the prince, reaching only to his waist was an embarrassment and something that Vegeta refused to allow.
After several minutes of striding through the grandiose halls, Vegeta finally reached his destination and emerged onto a terrace that overlooked the sprawling metropolis below. Countless skyscrapers consumed the land beneath him, and millions of twinkling lights illuminated the streets. The bustling cityscape was truly a sight to behold. The small warrior smirked—not at the beautiful scenery below him, but at the thought that the Saiyans would inevitably advance even further under his guise. His father was impressive to be sure, but the younger Vegeta's bravado was unmatched by even the king, and he yearned to grow old enough to replace his elder counterpart.
Nappa waited outside of the terrace with his arms crossed, waiting for the escort's arrival. Silently, the child he was in charge of glanced up at the glistening night sky. The atmosphere was a distinct red shade, and beyond its scarlet veil were billions of other worlds and stars. The Saiyan race was all too familiar with that fact. It was a Saiyan warrior's duty to go to other planets across the universe and to eradicate them of all life by order of Frieza's empire. At the moment, the Saiyans were "employed" (enslaved) by the vainglorious tyrant, and it was their job to acquire suitable planets for the Arcosian. Once cleared of all signs of life, the tyrant would have his slaves comb the planet to gather resources for selling, or—most profitable—to sell to another species for colonization (and eventually, unbeknownst to them, eradication once again).
Mercenaries. Reduced to nothing but genocidal mercenaries. The Saiyans! The young warrior grimaced. His father was pathetic.
He glanced back at the brutish Nappa. "If my escort was not going to be here yet, then why the hell did you make me arrive this early, you buffoon?!" He shook his head in disgust. "Ugh, you're pitiful, Nappa. If they're not here shortly then I'm going back to my training."
He whipped his head back around to observe the city and ignored whatever response Nappa gave. His thoughts took a tailspin back towards his strength and power, as they often did, but yet… there was something bothering him. He growled inwardly as his scowl deepened. Vegeta was never allowed to conquer a planet; not yet, anyway. He had no real experience to reminisce over. In fact, he had only been off of Planet Vegeta (aptly named) once, and that was to observe some Saiyan Elites wipe out a random, lamentable species. Even then, though, he had been constantly berated and told not to participate in the purge. Simply an observation of what his future would be like, they said.
His thoughts dwelled with his father. It was he who had constantly blocked every attempt the prince had made to be given an assignment. It was he who had prevented Vegeta from proving how strong he really was to the rest of his people.
That's why this unexpected summoning gave the boy a slight but ever-present jolt of hope. Although unlikely, it was possible his father finally believed him to be ready for combat. The tiny warrior hungered for the glory and thrill of bloodshed.
Vegeta swiveled back around to face Nappa. "I cannot wait any longer! I am going to the launch station myself."
Before Nappa could interject, Vegeta blasted off into the crimson sky. He flew at full speed, unable to contain his eagerness at the possibility of an assignment. Ignoring the fact that his behemoth of a bodyguard had decided to follow him, the young boy quickly made way to the launch station, leaving a trail of sonic booms in his wake.
The prince touched down at the entrance of the station, and Nappa followed suit. Planet Vegeta only had one terminal space port. Because of this, the building that facilitated all of that traffic was truly gigantic, easily dwarfing every other building on the entire planet several times over. The two warriors entered swiftly through the main entrance.
The prince slowed his hustle as he took in the sights around him. An eerie silence seeped through the air, and there was none of the tumultuous commotion so typical of the launch station. The terminal was completely deserted. Despite the strangeness, he couldn't help but gain a pit of excitement in his gut. He had heard stories of the launch station being cleared out before important missions in the past, and maybe, just maybe, this would be no different. Finally, his turn for glory!
Directly ahead were two stoic Saiyans that appeared to be members of his father's personal guard. Members of Vegeta's guard were trained to do their job swiftly, quietly, and efficiently; they were truly some of the strongest Saiyans around. Stories of their many great battles permeated through the Saiyan world: tales of vanquishing vicious beasts, murdering wretched monsters, eradicating entire species for sport. Vast armies were nothing but child's play for King Vegeta's guard.
Vegeta, however, paid their historical esteem no mind as he marched towards them without a second thought. It seemed the motionless duo had been expecting the prince, because as soon as he entered into the fray, they each swiftly dropped to one knee.
"Your Highness," they both said, bowing their heads. The prince eyed the pair before releasing a grunt to acknowledge them. After being released from their bow, the two stood. "We apologize for being late to escort you, Prince Vegeta. Our king was giving us some last minute orders. It will not happen again. We have been directed to take you to your father, so please, follow us."
"Whatever," snorted Vegeta before gesturing with his hand for the pair of guards to lead the way. The group quickly marched through the terminal. Soon, however, instead of turning down the corridor that would lead to the launch pads used exclusively by the Saiyan Elites, his guides took him down one of the passageways that was only used for the third-class peons.
"What is this?!" questioned Vegeta with disgust after noticing the supposed major oversight. "You absolute imbeciles! Why are we going the wrong way?"
"I assure you, My Lord," replied one of his guides immediately. "This is the right way. The king will be waiting for us at the end of this corridor."
With a disgruntled huff, Vegeta clamped his mouth shut and scowled as he walked behind the two guards as they continued to lead him through the seemingly endless pathways of the station. It was nearly ten minutes later when they finally stopped in front of the entrance to one of the numerous launch pads for the low-class Saiyan warriors.
"The king is waiting inside for you, Prince Vegeta," informed one of the guides as he gestured for the boy to enter through the dilapidated doorway.
It was much smaller than the entrance to the station, and its gray hue was covered with cobwebs and dust. With a sneer of distaste, Vegeta strolled through the entrance, and as his scarlet cape billowed behind him, he felt the door suddenly slide shut. He thought it was strange that not even Nappa was allowed to come inside with him, but he didn't really pay too much mind to it. Clearly his father wished to speak with him in private. Did it bode well for the prospect of a mission? Perhaps, but before he had time to think it over, the young boy heard the familiar sound of the king.
"Ah, I see that you have finally arrived."
Vegeta tilted his head to look at where the deep, booming voice originated from. Standing several dozen feet away was his father, arms crossed, standing next to an older version of a space pod. Next to him was a much smaller creature, wearing what looked like a white lab coat. He was as short as the young Prince Vegeta, and was covered in smooth black feathers with a long, toucan-like orange beak. His big, floppy ears hung down by the sides of his head. It was Kiva, a member of a race enslaved by the Saiyans. He was often tasked with assisting Vegeta with whatever he needed. Aside from the duo and the pod, there was nothing but an area with control panels and other various technologies, but it all looked old and outdated.
"You summoned me, Father?" said the boy as he came to a stop before the older version of himself. He glanced at the bird-like creature, who gave what looked like a sad smile back. Vegeta ignored it.
"Yes, that is correct," confirmed the king. He turned away from his son, and glanced upward towards the sky in the opening above. "I have decided to finally grant your request for a mission. You will be leaving shortly."
The young Vegeta curled his lips into a prideful smirk. "Finally! It's about time!" he exclaimed. "But why are we in such a disgusting place as the third-class launch deck? The smell here is sickening."
Silence hung over the father-son duo for a few seconds before the older Saiyan finally responded. "The mission that you are being sent on is one of the utmost importance and secrecy. No one can know that you have left on your assignment, so using the Elite decks would be far too dangerous. Therefore, you will be leaving from here. That bastard Frieza wouldn't bother to have his soldiers look into these pods. In fact, they haven't been used in some time now, as you can probably tell."
The boy cocked an eyebrow at his father's words, but his excitement remained. "Why all this secrecy? What kind of mission am I being sent on?" His smirk widened. "Although it only makes sense that you would choose me to be sent on such an important conquest."
The king turned to look at his boy. His face was grim and callous, and he had seemingly aged ten years since they had last seen each other. The stoicism was typical, but this was different. The young prince's dastardly smile faded as his curiosity had instead become confusion.
"Your mission is... well, it is a long-term assignment," informed the elder Saiyan, his voice betraying no emotion at all. "I am sending you to a planet far away from here to train. You are not to return here. Not until our endgame is feasible, at least."
The Prince was stunned into silence by his father's sudden revelation. It made no sense. Not return? Endgame?
"Ex-explain yourself!" demanded Vegeta with wide eyes, unable to say anything other than the two simple words.
"Frieza has ordered me to hand you over to him," said King Vegeta, his expression never changing as he spoke. "I refuse to allow that. Because of this, I am sending you away, so that one day you will grow strong enough to defeat him. If you were allowed to be taken in by that… that fiend, you would never be able to achieve your full potential and return the Saiyans to their former glory. That is it, and nothing more. I will not explain myself further to a mere child."
The young Prince's body began to tremble. A vein suddenly appeared on the boy's forehead and began to throb as Vegeta's eyes bulged, barely able to contain the rage he held for his father.
"Do you believe that I am a COWARD?!" screamed the flame-haired prince with a thrust of his fist which cracked the wall beside him. "We are SAIYANS! The greatest warrior race the universe has ever seen! We NEVER flee from our enemies! Or, at least, that's what you told me before… why do you always wish to disgrace me, Father!? Why are you seeking to steal my pride and honor from me!? You'd instead force me to hide away on some putrid world than give me a chance to show my power?! I can kill that lizard now and be done with things!"
"This is not about your honor, your pride, or your power!" bellowed the king, causing even his fearless son to cower slightly. "This is about your survival; that is all that matters now. It is because you are the Prince of All Saiyans that you must go. If you are taken by him, then you will be stripped of any pride and honor you possess as a Saiyan. Frieza will use every opportunity to break you and your pride. He will kill you before you can achieve your destiny. I will NOT allow that Arcosian bastard to steal that away from me... from us."
Vegeta stood in stunned silence for a few moments, his chin seemingly glued to the breastplate he wore, before finally regaining his voice. His eyes glanced downward before raising again to stare into his father's soul.
"From us… You really are a coward," he said in a whisper. "Wasn't it you who said that as warriors, the only honorable way to do things is to stand up to our challengers?... And yet… you wish for me to run. To abandon my home. To 'fight another day.' You may be a coward afraid to die, but I'm not. I will fight Frieza now if that is my destiny. What I will not do is stay here and listen to your... your idiocy any longer!"
With a haughty swagger, young Vegeta turned on his heel and began to storm out of the launch deck. Unfortunately for the boy, he was suddenly stopped when his father phased right into his path. Before the prince could even open his mouth, the king had already delivered a swift, powerful, jab to his son's stomach. Vegeta's mouth was agape in pain and his eyes widened as he formed an inaudible scream. He instantly lost all control of his muscles and collapsed onto the floor.
"Hmph. I should have known that the brat wouldn't have been able to handle this. Pathetic." The king grabbed his son and draped him over his shoulder. "Let's get on with it, then. Do whatever you need to wipe his memories regarding Frieza until the time is right."
The small creature grimaced with apprehension. "If you're sure about this, King…"
"Well, that's what you're here for, isn't it? Come on, now. There's not much time to waste."
Kiva sighed as he lifted his thin, frail arm, and a faint ball of rainbow light formed in his claw. He slowly transferred the ball of energy onto the unconscious Vegeta's skull, and with a bright flash it disappeared, seemingly absorbing into the boy's mind. He looked up at his king with feigned calmness for his assurance. The king promptly nodded at him.
"Very well, then. You know the arrangements, Kiva. When the time is right, return my son's memories about the Arcosian." The bird-like creature nodded and Vegeta continued. "It is vital he does not know about Frieza until he has trained enough to defeat him. He must believe he is on a training exercise and nothing more. Do you understand me, creature? If he fails, the light of Saiyans will be dimmed from this universe forever. That is something we cannot allow."
The king forcibly carried his son over to the pod. "You are invaluable to our success, Kiva. You must make sure Prince Vegeta trains throughout the years. If any Saiyan went with him, the high energy level would be sensed and the pod destroyed. Luckily my son will be unconscious so his power will not be detectable. You, with a weak energy level, will not be detected either, and are thus absolutely vital. Do not fail me."
Unable to protest, the bird-like creature nodded quickly. "I—we—will not fail you. I have tended to your son for several years now. He's a good kid. He won't let you down, Sir."
The king accepted Kiva's sentiments and turned to the pod. Kiva was not finished, and his feathered head slightly dropped towards the dust-covered ground. "Does… does it not bother you that your last words with your son were words of anger, Sir?"
Vegeta ignored the alien bird. He quickly inputted the coordinates of the planet Vegeta would call home before flinging his son's unconscious body into the pod; his lifeless figure tumbled through the machine before landing awkwardly on the floor. Kiva quickly waddled in after him and sat the prince up properly in his weathered, torn seat before sitting down next to him.
"Now go, my son," the King muttered with stone eyes. "I may not have been able to free the Saiyans, but I know that one day you will be able to return and avenge our people."
Of course, Prince Vegeta could not hear him. The door to the pod slid shut with a thud as the vehicle silently awaited the inputted countdown to take-off.
So, yeah, this is a rewrite of the Neo Z Fighter story known as "Role Reversal." The reason this is on my account? Well, it's because I no longer have the account info memorized for the old Neo Z Fighters account, and also because Flash is not working on this project anymore. (Don't fret, though: I have his permission to rewrite the story.) So, if by some chance you remember that story and see some things are similar here, or even unchanged, it's because of that, and I promise I'm not plagiarizing some random person's work.
I'm going to be completely frank with you all on several points, now.
I. This is SOLELY for practice. If you've read my profile, you'll know I'm planning some actual novels. The problem is, I haven't actually written prose in, like... five years or so. So yeah, this is just to get rid of some of the rust, while hopefully entertaining you guys in the process. I love Dragon Ball, so I would be remiss if I don't do it justice.
II. With that being said, there are bound to be errors, and maybe even a lot of them. I don't really care, to be honest. This is not my submission for an actual novel. It's not meant to be perfect. I will try my best to make it clean and whatnot, but I'm simply far too busy to spend a lot of time editing. (In fact, I probably won't edit at all... I'm supposed to be doing other things at the moment, but here I am.)
III. I haven't watched Dragon Ball Z in six years or something. I don't remember exactly how the characters talk, and I don't necessarily remember exactly how they act. I, as the author, reserve create license to alter as I see fit, so please don't leave reviews destroying me because "Frieza would NEVER say that!" Thank you in advance.
IV. Yeah, turns out I don't remember timelines or ages or anything like that either. So, there will likely be some glaring mistakes in that regard. I'll try my best not to, but if I do... oops. Sorry. Also, no OCs except minor ones (Kiva), and I'm taking out significant parts of the old story, like the stuff with Bardock. I just don't have the time or energy to incorporate all of that. This will be Vegeta-focused.
V. Not sure if this will actually update often, as I haven't planned out much of anything for the story so far. I just wanted some practice and to entertain you guys a little bit. I still obviously need more practice (as you can probably tell), so I will likely update periodically, but please know my priorities place this as pretty far down the ladder. Adulting is not fun.
Anyhow, thank you all for reading, and I appreciate your support. I could be practicing on another medium, but I wanted to on here just to hopefully foster some enjoyment (and bring back some nostalgia from when I used to write on here).
'Til next time.