Author's Note: I don't own anything except for Brunx, Mardo, and Surae.

Helpful background: Vegeta was taken from his planet and family as an exchange for promised military export for the saiyan species. The original plan was to have him trained specifically under Nirrikii's jurisdiction, but he was much too young at the time of the trade. So, instead the cousins (Freeza and Nirrikii) had a caretaker, an aspiring saiyan mechanic named Xixi, assigned to him until he was of age. The problem was that when Xixi's contract expired several cycles later and Nirrikii never came to claim Vegeta because of other political reasons. Thus, Xixi was reassigned and Vegeta was put back into the hands of his military at the age of 9.

One of the conditions of the 'trade' was that Vegeta was to be separated from his kind culturally and professionally (to make it easier to mold him to specific ideals that Nirrikii regarded as important). By the time he made it back into the ranks of the saiyan elite, he did not know his own language, nor did he have any concept of his status as a future monarch. He also had no duties like the rest of his military ('cause Nirrikii didn't want him killed in action before he was even properly trained), and as a result he couldn't relate with any of the veterans. This created some strain between the most elite saiyan soldiers who already had issues with the ruling aristocrats of Vegetasei and a prince they were now forced to take care of.

Now, before you guys go crazy with this 'what's she changin' the story!' keep in mind that this is AU.

Added notes: 'Veget' means king. It's a title. If you think about it, so is 'Vegeta.'

Keep in mind that these excerpts are rearranged to fit in chronological order with the story. Sorry, but it's what happens when writing disjointedly. Your comments are always appreciated. :)

Happy Reading!

Recruit

Lord Freeza was very particular about its officers. It was sort of an obsessive nature to keep only the most 'worthy' around it, as was not uncommon among members of the tsiru species. Consequently, the warlord placed great emphasis on continued instruction within the ranks by providing a unique platform in which the most qualified of their relevant fields could refine the skills necessary in the direction of the territory's cause. That was the purpose of Ngtsu – the home station for all prototype development and testing within the warlord's sector.

As such, in order to be transferred to this base, one would have to qualify by either receiving recommendation from someone who deemed them top ranked in their class, or surviving long enough to warrant closer attention. Saiyans typically fell into the second category. Their job was particularly brutal, which meant that literally only the strongest and most physically capable tended to survive past several consecutive cycles. The elite class had legendary recognition, not only because they were the veterans with an unending contract for their service, but also because they were conspicuously unusual among their race. Although incredibly strong, many of them were also faintly insane from their method of hitting the glass ceiling. There was suggestion that the lack of conscience most carried with their profession was exactly why they were so extraordinary in the first place. However, awareness that they would never retire did not sit well with some, as it was also suspected that the worst of the saiyan reputation sprung from the cruelty and psychosis dwelling within the mind of an elite who truly longed to die.

For this reason, it was understood knowledge that Ngtsu base never received fresh saiyan recruits.

Never.

And yet, striding headlong down the platform was a tall, lanky figure clearly underweight and underage when compared to the ranking officer guiding him. Brunx shifted the bag on his shoulder excitedly, gathering his surroundings of the wide docking bay with the fervor only a child would respond with on their first adventure. After all, no one was ever commissioned to Ngtsu straight out of the academy.

"Subordinate, stand round."

Acquiescing to the order, he reared himself and stood upright with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Chest straight, chin high he looked to Captain Mardo with a glint in his eye such that the superior officer could not help but wonder how easily it could be removed.

"I see you made it safely to the base."

"Yes, Captain."

He motioned his left hand to the opposite shoulder subtly and pulled it back out with two fingers straight, attention never leaving the level height of the young saiyan. The sign Brunx did not recognize, although it was immediately received by the other subordinate as he nodded his departure, "Second Class Rier, handle his belongings."

Brunx let the weight off of his shoulder and into the arm of his travel companion, somehow assured that his things would make it to the appropriate place. Focusing again on the height of the ceilings, he began to follow the captain back into the structure of the main base. The architecture was strikingly different than the rumors filtered down via transient officers and guest substitutes aiding in the final tutoring sessions before they all headed out on their first tour. However, it was no less sophisticated than he imagined.

"We do not often receive such inexperienced soldiers as your limited knowledge is a liability," Mardo remarked casually after a moment. When he received the command protocol to accept the apprentice into the base with further instruction to complete his training, the captain was not the least bit happy. Undeniably though, he had little choice as the order was not only relayed from the Veget, but was also hand delivered by Freeza's own first class officer. If he was smart, he would take it with good nature, "You must be surprised to have been chosen to come here as your first assignment."

"I am, Captain," Brunx chirped happily from the cordial response. He had also heard rumors about how rough the commanding officers were toward the less experienced. He half expected a ritualistic hazing before leaving the confines of his transport vehicle.

"I looked over your record, and you are indeed a superb student with potential. Although, you will come to find that this place is different from most bases," he confirmed, "We do not coddle nor do we look well upon weakness. If you are to survive, you do exactly as you are told, clear?"

The subordinate affirmed mutely and continued to ogle at the sheer immensity of compound. As they left the docking platform, a long narrow shaft opened before them with a clear view of the upper decks off in the distance. Several other barges among various smaller transporting pads with mechanics and such lined both sides of them. The basal level hummed with activity as each ship unloaded its diverse crew composed of numerous clades, many of which the new officer was unfamiliar with, into their respective windowed tubes. The white walls of the main base curved upward in a convex bulge, and a multitude of narrow lighted strips jutted out suggestive of scaffolding for individual docking bays. A rush of cool air hit them as the wide port doors opened, revealing a hectic base deck.

"This is when all of the new transfers come in, pup," the older saiyan declared as they made their way through the crowd, "There are several elite razukin academies on this base in addition to the Lord's research division. These decks are off limits to you, clear?"

"Clear," Brunx muttered, still too preoccupied by the multiplicity in the parties diverting along their own path. On his training base, there was only a handful of corresponding alien species; presumably ones they were expected to interact with commonly in the field. The saiyans towered above many of them. If their height was not enough, their prowess would certainly prove intimidating among the myriad of technicians supporting more automatable versions of ground troops with the infantry of comparably weaker razukins that followed.

Once the two males managed passed the open reception area farther into the interior of the building, they headed straight toward an air lock aimed for their final destination. Another swish of the gate resulted in rushing of air through the slit as it closed, this time toward the expanse of the foyer from which they left. An unnatural silence remained to pad the space.

"I suspect," the captain began with a flat tone heralding his lack of enthusiasm in having to provide excess information, "that you will not be given your first protocol assignment for some solar weeks. Normally, the base is quiet as crews are off site on their respective protocols. You are to take this opportunity to familiarize yourself with the facilities. I am assigning a lieutenant officer to you so that you keep your tail out of trouble," he finally glanced over to the young adult, a jaw muscle flexed with intent, "No one likes a miscreant, am I right?"

Brunx took in the mini speech with a nod every second or so to show his awareness, "Yes, Captain - I mean, no, they don't."

"Good," and the air dock opened with a firm whisk followed by another whistle of air into a smaller, less maintained lobby. It was bizarrely empty compared to the main deck, darkened somewhat by the lack of lighting and damage to the lingering florescence above. To the side stood a tall broad soldier, refined features mirroring the expression held by his superior, "Lieutenant Captain Surae."

"Captain," he said with a solute. His sight shifted directly to Brunx as he broke into a more pleasant smile, "So this is the new recruit. You've got some big armor to fill, subordinate."

The friendly greeting resulted in a sheepish grin from Brunx, palm already at the base of his scalp, "I suppose I do."

"Let's get you settled. I'll give you a break down of the base," Surae signaled in the same manner Mardo did before and guided Brunx by the shoulder into the main corridors.

"What kind of salute is that?" Brunx craned around with a shy nod to the captain before hesitantly repeating the sign.

"That's pretty good for a first try," he smiled. Surae understood what it was like to be dumped on a base as the most inexperienced of the crew, and more importantly, how critical a mentor was to his development. He had been hazed terribly on his first base, but soon settled once he got the gist of the pecking order. Rising through the ranks was a matter of not only being good at what he did, but knowing when to kiss ass if it were necessary. The transfer to Ngtsu was only added proof of his capabilities. Still, he was otherwise cocky, which much of the time landed him in more difficulty than his good qualities helped get him out, "Each base has a personal salute. Think of it like a code. Comradery with your fellow ranked."

A grin engulfed Brunx once again, reflecting his still green expectations. The rumors were just that, perhaps, as the saiyan usually took his first impression of anyone to heart. With that, he settled his nervousness for more productive activities and promised himself to recall everything if necessary.

For as large as Ngtsu seemed, his introduction to the sub deck where he would reside for the length of his contract proved to be rather short. There was a central commons where they ate their meals along with several smaller general rooms neighboring the living district. Nearly half of the deck comprised of five tall arenas designed for the soldiers' continued self guidance. Often, this led to tourneys that, as Surae informed him, typically occurred just after new transfers arrived. It was a noncommittal way for the captains to select the following cycle's seniority among lower subordinates as well as a way to pass the time. Living the violence was one method of never having to deal with the psychological consequences of it. Personal quarters were small simply because many of the groups shared their living space with up to three others, dependant on rank. Overall, roughly three thousand saiyan elite inhabited the base, and of that, only several hundred were present for any given time. Injury or an approved sabbatical were really the only two reasons to stay, leaving many waiting pensively for their next departure.

For the status the saiyan elite held, their living conditions were below par, which silently surprised the new recruit. The academies were much better maintained, partly because of a workforce scraped from the active trainees, and also because the majority of the recent divisions encompassed fleets of razukins. Their salaries would be lower, but their numbers were greater, demanding a sort of compensation for their labor under union ordinances. Still, the younger saiyan generations reaped the fruits of their descendant's negotiations and lived rather cozily when compared to where he was now.

It was not until they reached his quarters that Brunx became noticeably excited again. The electronic command was typed quickly enough, allowing the tall soldier to waltz into his new space. It was narrow, although more spacious than previous alcoves allocated as lodging. Two compartments were aligned facing each other, one housing a small individual hunched over something in his lap. Brunx bristled with recognition.

"Is that really him?"

"The one and only."

His eyes went wide. From the time he received the assignment, Brunx knew exactly who he would be rooming with. Now after everything he heard as so-called 'accounts' from soldiers claiming to have actually met him, there the very real and young Vegeta sat, "Can I talk to him?"

"If you must," he drawled, "Although, I warn you he does not like being bothered."

The advice was promptly ignored as Brunx approached the adolescent lost in his activities. The male was diminutive, almost childlike in his physique; small narrow fingers nimbly tweaking a set of skinned wires around the interior of another instrument. An outdated scouter was attached and running, the program scrolling a set of prompts down the olive tint covering his left eye from cheek to brow. He paid no attention to the newest intruder, merely snatching a tool closest to the edge of his cot without glancing up. For a moment, all the recruit could do was marvel at the site, acknowledging how full of shit his teachers must have been, for they had nothing on him now.

"Hi, I'm your new bunkmate," he beamed, hands casually on his hips. A chuckle immediately replied from Surae, head already knelt down to meet his fingertips.

"Good for you," without missing a beat, "Your shit's over there."

Brunx was naturally warm-hearted, probably a little too much so as he let most offensive comments slide off of him without care. This was one of the qualities that allowed him to so easily pass the first half of training without much harm. Of course, this was no longer the academy, and nothing could prepare him as the next phrase innocently slipped from his mouth, "Hey, the rumors about you are true!"

Vegeta stopped the program and peered agitatedly up at him through screen of the scouter. A scowl already etching his sharp jaw line, he demanded more than questioned, "What rumors."

"You are small," Brunx replied with a playful chortle.

The teen unhinged his jaw slightly and scoffed with utter revulsion. Then, he turned the fury with a vicious glare toward Surae, who was unceremoniously ignoring what he knew would turn out poorly. He hated new transfers. It was always like this. It seemed the captains were now sending their bottom rung in effort to continually show him how even the most intrusive imbeciles were more applicable than he to their line of work. Too short. Too small. Too quiet. As though any of that mattered in their survival, for he still could not relate. In a dark blaze, Vegeta pulled off the equipment and was on his heels toward the cabin door, leaving a baffled rookie and his snickering cohort in the corner.

"I told you," Surae pushed the laugh through his nose. "Now, look what you did. The pup has a kink in his tail."

From their initial meeting, Brunx had little clue as to what to make of him, for they barely ever said anything to each other over the following solar week. When Vegeta did utter something, the one or two word sentences were so quiet that the older had to strain to make them out. The adolescent rarely chose to join the group during meals and tended to avoid the captains entirely. A restrained, sullen disposition always held him such that the new recruit was beginning to wonder what exactly happened to the monarch that resulted in such moroseness.

Come to think of it, when Brunx observed vigilantly enough, he noticed that the other officers welcomed him more fondly than they did the highness. They offered him a place to chat in their games and openly retold stories to prepare him for the realities yet to come. They paid no notice to his comrade though, beyond a curt comment here and there that made Brunx instantly feel uncomfortable. In the moment, he could interject, but it would likely result in his own chastisement.

He learned after a while, from subtle inquiries to Surae, that Vegeta had no duties. He attended none of the missions and therefore the officers felt no obligation to induct the prince into their rituals. He was an outsider in their eyes as much as any razukin would have been, were they given the rites to dwell along side in the sub decks. As a result, any respect owed was merely symbolic and held little value among their very tangible responsibilities.

It made no sense to Brunx, for he assumed that the view of the Vegeta-tsu bloodline was similar everywhere as the most prominent family in the saiyan race. They were the reason the saiyans could negotiate for their survival at all. Yet, the unfortunate reality was that most soldiers housed at Ngtsu did not carry the same regard for the aristocratic line as was expected. Although never directly stated by Captain Mardo or Surae, Brunx got the strong impression that the saiyan elite had little respect for the institution that granted their continued existence because it was the exact reason why they could never go home.

"You'll understand one day, pup," Captain Mardo chided, as gently as he could, one evening while holding his patience with the recruit's constant queries. "Equal military export should mean just that. Instead, we stay here with shit while they reside in wealth and our families are forced into servitude. The cast system never ended, rather it was enhanced by this treaty. And now, they dare insult us by dumping this burden who can't even carry his own weight."

It was considered insubordination to not follow suit, so all Brunx could do was nod quietly in his confusion. The term burden was unsettling, but then he was young and knew no better in his superior's eyes. Curiosity was valued over restraint, however, which allowed Brunx the burning desire to at least pull past Vegeta's justifiable shield to recognize that someone else saw differently of him.

It would be another several solar days before the withdrawn comrade dared say anything beyond a few words to the recruit, and only after repeated failed attempts by Brunx to start a conversation. At first, he was quite annoyed by his persistence, and Vegeta automatically took the barrage of questions as another method of bullying him. So, much of the time he avoided the new bunkmate by concealing himself in his normal routine. After a while though, his own lonely conscience kept nagging to consider the gesture as genuine and with a sigh, he now made way down to a side foyer where he knew he could find all those he generally evaded.

The base was excruciatingly boring to Vegeta. Since he did not participate in missions along side the elite that Brunx was taught to so visibly admire, his role was delegated to the side lines as an everlasting spectator. He was oddly small for his age, likely from growing up on a moon and with nutrition that was strikingly different from conditions of his home world. He was also thin and wiry, attesting to how tall and lanky his bloodline should have afforded. The unmistakable ebony hairline, countered with pale skin and poignant ashen eyes, only brightened the disparity among the towering brawny figures laced with an almond luster and brunette coloring that favored his species equivalent. He was different and they spared nothing in his comprehension of that.

Today, another crew was dispatching and the sub deck was especially quiet. Brunx mulled over a set of squared off oval beads spilled on the floor before him. The narrow purple pegs were oriented in what seemed like a random manner, yet it was designed as a game. Numbers were scrawled up the length of the flattened edges with distinct colors to signal a pattern. The object was to pick each up in an order that summed to a specific number according to their color, with ultimate goal of clearing the board. After so many, the player could choose to turn one of the pieces over and see if the number or color matched any of the ones that had not yet been excluded. As tedious as it was, it passed the time; something Surae was grateful for so that he could attend to something else for a change. He would let the recruit cherish the last restful nights in his naïvety until most returned, and then the lieutenant could commence in testing the combat skills his files promised were so exceptional.

"The game is rigged, you know."

Brunx jerked up to see the long defined features staring down at him with a sort of dulled expression.

"You should play with the Cnam," Vegeta continued, "Seeing as you can't solve this, that handy game would make your brain bleed."

He regained focus enough to inquire, "Do you know how to crack this?"

"It's easy," he huffed with a haughty gesture, "There is an algorithm associated with it that matches the colors with the numbers. You can only run the equation so many times before the puzzle unravels itself. The others got their tails in a knot because I was able to solve it too quickly for them, so the captains tinted one of the colors incorrectly to trip me up. Too bad they were so stupid that they forgot to change it afterward, because none of the officers have been able to complete it since."

"Well, that sucks," he bowed his head in disappointment before brightening up again, "Do you know how to fix it?"

"Why would I want to fix it? I think it's funny they can't figure it out. Keeps attention away from me, at any rate."

"Oh."

After a moment, Vegeta cocked his head to the side, awkwardly pondered how he wanted to proceed, "How much of Ngtsu have you seen?"

Brunx shrugged, "Just sub D deck."

"That's it?" An skeptical fine brow arched upward before turning to depart, "Wow, the captains are really short changing you. If you want to see more, then I suggest you follow me."

Without refusing an unsolicited gift, the subordinate immediately dropped the game to tag after his short companion. The sudden change in Vegeta's disposition was rewarding to Brunx for all of his effort to be social. Perhaps he would come around on his own.

They traversed the long, dim halls toward the main deck lobby single file, Vegeta checking keenly down each side corridor assuring that no one was around. Pushing the airlock button subtly with his forefinger, the doors responded with its characteristic swish.

Punching a code into a small tablet attached to the inner wall, "Sub niu deck."

The trip did not take all that long, and the next minute or so both strode blindly out into the caliginous space before them. Muttering something in an alien language, the small teen felt for another tablet along the wall and issued the command. A tinking sound echoed in the distance followed with a stream of blue tint illuminating a path along the tall juxtaposing walls. No sooner did Vegeta see his entrance, then he beeline for a platform lined with large cylindrical tanks on the other side. The cerulean hue reflected off the rounded surface serving as a dual function.

"There are four sub decks, for your information, not that you would ever need to know," he said matter-of-factly, "This is the boiler deck. No one comes down here."

"This place is huge!" He exclaimed simply, eyes transfixed on the high ceilings. Dust coated the sides of the close-domed reservoirs in a thick mat held firmly together by the ever slight condensation stuck to the sides. Massive support beams, nearly as wide as the tanks themselves, bent upwards into the vast grayness some many meters above.

"It is that," came the unruffled reply. A long pause followed. Leaning back on the edge of an adjacent pylon with his arms crossed defensively, Vegeta was more comfortable to inquire openly with the consistent hum as adequate background noise.

"So, how did you get here?"

"What do you mean?" The tall saiyan sifted his eyes around the large drums, hands at the small of his back so that he dared not touch anything markedly important. Although the space itself seemed never ending, the tanks filled it such that only a narrow matrix remained as a unique mesh of open passages.

His eyes narrowed, "Ngtsu never acquires fresh recruits. You're too young. Too low class. So what did you do to get stuck here?"

Brunx knit thick coffee eyebrows down contemplating the question before shrugging it off innocently. Although the details were not common knowledge except for those privy, it was accepted that soldiers trained differently depending on their family lineage. The aristocrats did not opt to travel to bases nor did they contribute to the military beyond an administrative manner, and wealthier families could test out of certain requirements.

Brunx had neither in his history, and thus, had no opportunity to amend his path, "Well, just like everyone else I suppose. We all know when we are small that we go into the military. It's the coolest thing to us. So we prepare when we are really young. Go to school, learn all about it. And then, when we're old enough, we get sent to academies off Vegetasei where we learn specific stuff, like combat and practical stuff. You know," he shifted nervously, feeling his companion's negativity reverberate as he spoke, "normal stuff. Then, we get assigned a tour where we report for duty. I just happened to be assigned here."

Vegeta sat there eying Brunx, absorbing warily. The glower intensified slowly over time before he finally got up to meandered away with a silent sniff. Kicking a piece of scrap metal he had discarded sometime ago, he peered back at his new 'bunkmate,' "I never got that."

"Well of course not!" He exclaimed as though this concept was the most obvious thing, "You're Vegeta-tsu. You're not like us."

"I'm not like you," he repeated venomously. "You all are disgustingly pretentious."

Brunx stiffened at the harsh response, swallowing slowly, "I- I don't mean to be."

"You think you are better than me."

"No!" He placed his hands up in sudden shock, "No! Not at all. I was so excited when I found out I was transferred here, 'cause I, out of everyone else, get to meet you."

He blinked, "What?"

"You're famous! We all know who you are-"

"Who knows me?" His arms flew down in anger. It was bad enough being mocked by those in front of him, but by others unknown was just unconceivable, "What are you saying about me?"

Brunx backed away, motioning his hands down in a calming manner to the smaller saiyan, "Whoa, only the best things. You are our Vegeta. It would be disrespectful to say anything otherwise."

Vegeta maneuvered his jaw around to chew on his lower lip, an incredulous squint nonverbally conveyed his disbelief, "You're crazy."

In the moment, Brunx allowed himself to imagine the same about his younger comrade, followed by a thorough berating of his psyche. He thought it better to change the subject before Vegeta simply chose to end their friendly chat and never speak to the low class officer again. Looking around, he thought quickly, "So, uhm, what do you know of this place?"

He was not quite sure if it was going work as the prince took a moment to calm down and consider his reply, "Like I said, it's a sub deck. All the pylons support the foundation the base is built on. The tanks are our water storage. On the other end," he pointed mechanically, "there is a drill pipe, one of three on this moon, which pumps the water down into the subsurface and heats it for energy."

"Wow," Brunx examined the space with a more appreciative sense. Their voices echoed even above the mechanical whirring in their ears, "How do you know all of that?"

Vegeta shrugged glumly, "I have nothing else to do, so I researched it."

To him, it looked as though the deck hand not been used since it was built, "I bet you're pretty savvy about technical stuff too, then."

He peered up out of the corner of his eye, evaluating the sincerity of Brunx's comment. Saiyans were not particularly praised for their intelligence beyond the military prowess they fine tuned over many cycles of conditioning. Then, he smirked. An eerily mischievous expression from the new recruit's end as it sort of gave him the impression that he was observing a caged emotional response he had no idea how to interpret. He was slowly getting the idea that perhaps the monarch was a bit temperamental.

"It is a rarity how good I am with technology," the smirk was now directed at him with an equally dissonant stare, "I could tell you, but you would have to swear your secrecy."

The young officer twitched slightly unsure if he really wanted to know. It mattered little now, as he could see no way of backing down without provoking his anger again, "OK."

"You would have to promise on the honor of your family. I know how you soldiers can't break a promise."

"I know," he stated more resolutely.

Satisfied with the response, Vegeta pointed toward a rusty panel covered with a metal cap and a security tablet to protect a set of controls underneath, "Do you see that? That compartment controls all of the pumping lines for the tanks on Ngtsu. Do you know what happens if it is turned off?"

Brunx shook his head numbly.

"Well, first all of the electrical components controlling these tanks shut down. Then, the pipelines pumping water down the drill on the other side of the base stops working. Do you know what that means?" He spoke more slowly to emphasize the condescending tone, "It means the base has no power. And that's not the worst of it. The pipelines also support recycling of water as well as the atmospheric components allowing you and I to breath. Now, can you imagine what would happen if that machine is turned off?"

The recruit shifted with unease, glaring quietly at the panel, "Have you ever turned it off?" His question was answered indirectly as Vegeta's smirk morphed into a grin, "Why would you do that?"

He closed his eyes and waved nonchalantly, "Actually, it was accidental. I found it one revolution while rummaging around down here, as most of the security codes allowing access to this deck are out dated. They were easily bypassed. In fact," he turned sharply in an unsettlingly gleeful manner, "this is restricted site, as most of the base is to us. Mardo would remove your tail if he discovered you were down here. But, that's beside the point. I found it and I broke it trying to get the panel open. It was fixed before anyone could figure out who did it, but not before half of the station was shut down."

Brunx's jaw dropped subtly before he had the chance to pick himself back up appropriately. He had not been on the station for more than a solar week and he already was making himself out to be a delinquent, "Vegeta, we really shouldn't be here then."

"Oh, stop your whining. You wanted to know. And besides, you followed. If you really cared, you should have asked." He traced a finger along the slightly eroded metal lining one of the boiler tanks, "Now you promised you wouldn't tell," He turned to look him square in the eye. The unspoken consequence was etched in his brow, "I'll hold you to it."

AN: And there starts a beautiful relationship (not that kind – so get your head out of the gutter) between Brunx and Vegeta. Ah, no worries, Vegeta will get the stick out of his ass and see reason in having Brunx as a friend. I think I made Brunx a little like how I see a young Goku, but I could be wrong. Vegeta is an angry little snot, though. Hehe. :)