Chapter 1 revised

Chapter 1

The air was thick like chilled butter. The pressure roared around him, humming in his ears and squeezing every inch of his taut body. It hugged him fiercely like a child, its strength almost doubling him over at times as he sliced through the air. Sweat glistened across his snarling face, the drops shuddering and nearly rising into the air as the pressure increased. He growled and slammed his fist into metal, his visage alight with the sparks that echoed his blow. The machine fell to the ground, another soaring forward to replace it.

As the small machinery took each hit it fell back, as if beaten, before whirring back to life with the measurement of his own ki, delivering bolts of electricity that matched his level. He flipped sideways to dodge the ki blast, then crouched low, like a panther, to the floor as a second bot whizzed by his head. He steadied himself, rocking back and forth in hid crouch, then he rose with a snarl and, with a spinning kick, knocked both of them to the floor loudly, grabbing the third as it rounded on him and hurling it against the wall.

The machines were a new invention, and adaptation on what the Brief's family had developed for him. But Vegeta was already bored.

He ground his teeth against the screeching of metal as the defeated bots slid against the floor, struggling to rejoin the fight. His fist mashed the red button to his left and a new batch sang out of the entrance, eager to join the ranks. He growled as he crouched, her arms tensed, his eyes eyebrows drawn, and then he leapt into the fray.

He could feel his power beneath the surface surging. It spun his insides, rose to a glass ceiling in his chest but refused to break through. When he closed his eyes he could almost see it; the spark of gold that whooshed around his rib cage. He cursed as a bot took advantage of his reverie, scorching his shoulder with a small ki blast.

Vegeta shook his head and dove into the battle, his lips pulled back from his teeth. The gravity room had been more like his home for the past few months, but it seemed he had been spending far more time inside his head than anywhere else as of late. The more his power swelled, the more his thoughts raged inside him; plaguing him with memories, the fears, and the disgust.

On Vegetesai his life had been set in motion years before he was born. He was his destiny. He was the strongest of his kind and he reveled in it. His power was both feared and adored, and every whim he had was catered to. Any forms of opposition or displeasure were quickly eradicated by the millions of followers that worshipped him.

They had called him chosen.

His knuckles crunched into the metallic stomach of the bot and he growled at the memory. The crowds of millions, cheering his reign, their tails wrapped proudly around their waists as they bowed to him. And he, at the head of every event, every gathering, and his robes long and marked with the seal of his father, his arms crossed as he smirked into the faces his people…he had been something truly magnificent.

But now he was stuck on a planet that, had it been 10 years earlier, he would've eliminated without difficulty, and with pleasure. But instead of destroying it, he was fighting to protect it. To protect its weak people, the same race that had previously knelt at his feet on Vegetesai. They were considered the lowest of all the slaves; barbarians, frail, aging. On his planet the women from Earth were held in brothels in the poorest areas of the city, given rags to wear if they were lucky, slash marks if they weren't, while the men were humiliated further, forced to fight each other, or do the chores the saiyan slaves were too proud to complete themselves.

But his planet was gone; destroyed before he could be crowned King. He was a lost prince tied to a race of weaklings, and forced to fight for them by the one survivor of his dead race.

Kakarott.

Vegeta sneered and reached back to deliver a crushing blow to the bot flying toward him.

Kakarott was simple minded. He was strong, powerful, a deadly warrior when it was brought out of him. But he was no more Saiyan than Vegeta was human. He had lost his wits, completely forgetting his infant training. He didn't recognize Vegeta as his prince and refused to show him the respect that was expected from every Saiyan. Kakarott would not yield to his race's ways.

The fool had committed crimes that Vegetesai would've seen him dismembered for. He had adapted to human ways and even taken a human mate, which resulted in the half breed brat.

Vegeta snarled in disgust, taking his rage out on a bot that sang past his head. On Vegetesai half breeds were put down. The race was exclusive, and those who wished to taint it were put to death. Alien slaves, however, were quite common. The only protection weaker beings had on his planet was from their owners, if they chose to give it. Any slave could be taken by someone stronger at any time, but to take an alien as a mate was criminal; punishable by death.

When Kakarott had arrived with the harpy, Vegeta had assumed the girl was his slave. But when he learned of their marriage, it took every cell in his body not to snap her neck before the larger man's eyes.

Vegeta's last living subject not only created a family of aliens and half-breeds, he was also a slave to human ways.

It was treason.

Vegeta grunted as a ki beam from a nearby bot nearly took his head off. The time spent in his mind was causing his training to become erratic. He had no planet to go back to, no loyal subjects, and a royal ego that could not be smothered by a thousand beatings; his time under Frieza being a prime example of that.

No, he was tied to the earth peaceably, unable to force the weaklings into submission with the fool halfwit guarding it. He had yet to defeat Kakarott, and he didn't know what would become of him after the androids were defeated. All he knew was that as he grew stronger, his mind grew wearier.

The loud hum of the gravity room slowly dwindled and each bot fell from the air, crashing to the floor of the gravity room. Vegeta let out a roar of frustration as the door opened.

"God, relax Vegeta, I'll just be a minute. You were about to fry the circuits in here and I'd rather not take another round of calls from neighbors complaining about their power going off."

It was the woman.

She cut into his training session as if crossing the street. Her blue hair piled messily on top of her head, and the red tank top she wore dipping dangerously low. She had proved to be the bane of his existence for the last few months.

Impertinent and loud, she would cross the dark prince as if he were common, even having the audacity to talk back to him in front of others as if he were her peer. She was smaller than Kakarott's wife, and just as daring. As she walked past he pictured her beaten, bleeding, kneeling before him with big blue eyes…

He shook his head angrily. The rage he held at her freedom, at the fact that this weak, frail woman could do as she pleased on this planet was barely unchecked as he watched her dig into the massive tool belt that was slung around her waist. That she would walk past him without her gaze cast to the ground, that she would hold such fearlessness in her eyes, that she would speak to him…

And all the while she flaunted her sexuality at him; wearing the smallest amount of material that could still be deemed clothing, and even going as far as to attempt to bait him on several occasions. She would have too much to drink and come looking for him, wobbling on her heels and leaning on his doorframe with her face painted, like a harlot at the door of the bordello.

Vegeta clenched and unclenched his fists, glaring at the floor.

"Woman…" he spat through clenched teeth, "I will not reach super Saiyan with these constant INTERRUPTIONS!" He roared, raising his eyes to hers.

Bulma rolled her eyes, unaffected.

"Chill out, 'Gita, I'll be gone in a second." She moved towards the circuitry but was blocked by Vegeta's heaving form. He was at the end of his tolerance.

He glared down at her, crossing his arms slowly.

"Out." He said, barely above a suppressed whisper.

Bulma snorted, moving to go around him, but he blocked her path again, his dark eyes fiery.

Her own eyes narrowed and she threw down her wrench, her hands flying to her hips as it clattered against the ground.

"Goddamit, Vegeta, I am NOT going to let you blow out the power again, now MOVE!" she raised her arms to push against his chest, grunting in frustration when he didn't budge.

Vegeta watched her for a moment, looking down at her arms and smirking as she tried to shove him. He wrapped his large hands around each wrist coolly, raising a thick brow and leaning into her surprised expression.

"Make me move."

Bulma glared up at him, her light blue eyes darkening in fury.

"Vegeta…" she said slowly, struggling against his grip and baring her small teeth, "this is MY house, MY property, and MY gravity room! Now let me go!"

Vegeta released her wrists and took hold of her slender arms, pulling her into his chest roughly, shocking her into silence. He lowered his head, his body beginning to tremble with fury, coming eye level with the woman, his smirk turning cold.

"You think because you have some power in this world that you have any sort of meaning," he spoke slowly, his expression twisting in anger.

"Vegeta, what-"Bulma tried to interject, twisting in his grip angrily.

"You are nothing."

She stopped, her eyebrow quirking in a mixture of rage and confusion. He glared into her eyes, willing her to understand; to submit.

"There are worlds, little one, which even you, in your infinite wisdom, cannot imagine; worlds where pathetic weaklings like you would be sold to the highest bidder, whether for their pleasure or for your pain," He bared his teeth, his breath warming her lips," where your endless supply of money would be used for kindling in a fire surrounded by giants, beasts that could consume your body as easily as they draw breath."

Vegeta stepped forward against her, causing Bulma to stumble and back into the wall.

"The universe worships strength, human. It sniffs at your wealth. It sees you as a toy, nothing more. There is no good, no evil; only power…only strength. And on my planet, you would be on your knees before me."

He tightened his grip on her arms, his teeth bared as she parted her lips to voice her retort. She released a soft cry of pain, struggling not to tremble as his voice dipped to a growl.

"I was worshipped in this galaxy; feared and exalted simply for being. And one day, woman, I will show you fear. And then you will bow to me."

She blinked and the gravity room was empty; the only sounds on the hollow walls were Bulma's shaky breaths.

Her shoulders fell with relief and she rubbed her arms, taking a few tentative steps away from the wall, glancing around with a shaky breath. She ran a tentative hand over her hair, smoothing it against the bun. When she was sure she was alone, she snorted loudly and she reached back into her tool belt, shaking her head as she approached the console.

"Prick…" She muttered, willing the trembling hands that reached into her belt to still.