Chapter 2: Dentoyoru
"Vegeta!" came the infuriated voice of the King. The young prince smirked, a satisfied look on his face as he entered the main hall of the palace. The king strode angrily past the Saiyan nobles who were congregated there and grasped his son around the throat with one hand, slamming him into the wall. "You brat!" the king roared, the very walls cowering in fear as his anger consumed the room. The prince smirked and shoved his father away. "How dare you!" yelled the king. "How dare you!" His voice had dropped to a deadly whisper that would have struck fear into the fiercest Saiyan. Vegeta didn't move.
"How dare I, father?" The prince's eyes narrowed into an accusatory glare. "How dare you. I am the Prince of Saiyans. I suffered more than most at the hands of the Buradeans eight years ago. And you in your conceited wisdom decide to remove me from the purging squad?" Vegeta snorted. "And you ask how dare I? I had more right that any Saiyan to shed their purple blood, and I have done so. You are blind, old man. Your obsession with politics and appearance will be your downfall, at my hand." Vegeta spoke the last sentence in a tone of warning. The king did not flinch. The both of them knew Vegeta was not yet strong enough to take on the king and win, though both also knew that the days until he could were numbered.
"Vegeta, you know your presence is demanded at the Dentoyoru-" He stopped, seemingly unnerved by his son's cold high laugh.
"By who?" the prince laughed. "Who can demand anything of me? I returned for Dentoyoru of my own accord. The planet is done with so quit stressing old man. The normal lot have been rounded up, Razum's crew remained behind to transport them to Volrun for the sales. The planet will be ready for the sales too, though I put claim to half the profits."
King Vegeta's hand shot out smashed his son in the face. Vegeta recoiled at the punch which had caught him somewhat off guard and roundhouse kicked his father in the side. The king responded, flying back at his son and landing his foot in Vegeta's chest, knocking the air out of his son.
"You are not king yet, Vegeta. And until you are I suggest you keep your tongue and your ego in check." The king glowered at his son. Vegeta regained his breath and drew up to eye level with his father.
"My time is fast approaching," he hissed at the older man. "Faster than you realize." With that, the Saiyan prince turned and strode from the hall, slamming the giant wooden door behind him, rendering it into splinters.
King Vegeta didn't move as he watched his son go until he felt someone come up next to him. He turned to see Bardock.
"He is young," Bardock commented. "And though he is fool hardy and pig headed, he is strong in his person and his body." The king's advisor turned to face the other man. "I would mend the relationship with your son before it is too late," Bardock warned as he looked the king in the eye. "He is arrogant, yes, but he is right. The time is fast approaching when he shall hold the reins to the kingdom." Bardock turned to look out the door. "And I for one am not entirely sure that the empire is ready for him."
Vegeta breathed deeply as the anger coursed through his veins, a combination of the run-in with his father and the approaching Dentoyoru, the moon and its power messing with his temper among other things. The prince strode into the Raisem, the giant building which housed the arena where that evening's Battle Royale would be held, the opening celebration of the Dentoyoru. He strode quickly and quietly through the over-large, over-grand structure, down into the bottom levels which housed that evening's competitors.
The Raisem had been constructed many years ago by Vegeta XII, nearly a hundred kings prior to his father. Vegeta the Seventh was notoriously the cruellest king to have emerged, and as such was revered by even the Saiyans alive today. Vegeta the Seventh believed that his race was becoming weak, and in attempt to strengthen them up, he was responsible for the running of the inaugural Battle Royale. Every year, on the eve of Dentoyoru, all the five-year old Saiyans on the planet were gathered together and pitted against each other, the youngsters unable to control their insatiable blood lust that thrived under the full moon of Dentoyoru. The Saiyan cubs fought until only thirty of the several hundred remained. Those who survived to the end were allowed to survive. The aim of the Battle Royale was to weed out weak blood, and the Saiyan race had continuously flourished under the selection pressures of the Royale.
The survivors of the Royale were then put into an induced sleep for the rest of Dentoyoru, while the rest of the planet thrived in their primitive, Oozaru state.
Vegeta looked up as he entered the competitor's room, and was immediately swamped by hundreds of five year old Saiyan children. The prince smirked as he looked down at them. In less than six hours, nearly all of the children would be dead. He wondered if they realized.
At the front of the room stood Torat, the Royale Co-Ordinator, who monitored the children in the day leading up to Dentoyoru.
"Cantor!" the children yelled. Vegeta turned to look at Torat.
"At least you've been teaching the brats to use my proper title," he growled. Torat nodded.
"Leit, Cantor. Of course." Vegeta observed the children in the room. This year's crop was strong. Many of the children were larger than normal, and their tiny ki's buzzed with a surprising strength. It was going to be an interesting night.
"Torat-kar?" came one of the children's voices.
"Leit, brat? What is it."
"What is leit?" the child asked. Torat frowned.
"It means yes in Saiyavor you ignorant brat. Clearly of third class descent," he growled. Vegeta smirked. Torat was a man Vegeta could understand. "Is that all brat?" the child in question, a small young girl, shook her head. "What is Dentoyoru?" Torat growled again. The prince frowned in disapproval.
"I will find the parents of this child and slaughter them for their ignorance," he snarled, feeling his anger at the child's pitiful knowledge bubble inside him.
"Dirty third classes," Torat agreed. "As if their brat's lousy breeding isn't enough, they don't take the time to teach them the most basic of Saiyan history." He sighed frustratedly. "How many others don't know the meaning of Dentoyoru?" Across the room close to eighty hands went up. The prince snarled.
"I will not have brats fighting on the eve of Dentoyoru if they don't know the significance of it. Explain it Torat," Vegeta demanded.
"Very well. Vegeta-sei is a very young planet in the history of things, though we have done much in our short life. The Dentoyoru goes back to the days of Vegeta-sei's darkness, around 25,000 years ago. Back then, the Saiyans were Oozaru all year round, excepting two days when the moon disappeared behind the Kiyama Ranges and we dropped out of the Ancient Form. You all know what Oozaru is.." he paused. The children nodded and Torat sighed, relived. "Well there is something to be pleased about. Anyway. The Saiyan people lived as Oozaru for around 10,000 years, confined to our planet by our inability to maintain this form and the associated intelligence. Although they could control themselves to some degree, they were nowhere near their potential. As I said, about 10,000 years into our existence a Saiyan named Vegeta was born." The children looked away from Torat's story to the prince, standing in the doorway, arms folded. Vegeta glared at the children and they turned back to Torat. Vegeta, too, turned back. He had heard this story many a time, been forced to memorize it as a child, by Srinak of all people.
"Anyway. Vegeta had the initiative to destroy the moon. The Saiyan people were able to maintain their humanoid form, and as such flourished, their numbers rising steadily. As they spread across the planet, they discovered what is now the capital city, Kairon. A natural fortress, thousands of kilometres from where they hailed from, Kairon as you know is set in a huge clearing at the top of the Eastern Kiyama Ranges. When they discovered it, the Saiyans had not learned to fly so rock bridge provided an excellent means to channel invaders to a point where the numbers meant nothing."
Vegeta thought of Kairon as Torat told his story. The city was carved into the side of a cliff-face, surrounded by an abyss, thousands of kilometres deep and hundreds of metres in diameter. In the old days, before flight, the only entrance to the city had been the thin winding rock trail through the middle of the abyss. It had been a strategic move for a flightless population.
"So Kairon was established as a capital of sorts within a year of the Saiyans discovering it. The Saiyans quickly discovered their secret weapon; every time they were injured and survived the injuries, they grew stronger. The closer they came to death, the stronger they were when they healed. It was in these early years at Kairon, that someone discovered that Vegeta-sei, known then still as Saru-sei, had another moon. The Saiyans had not noticed it before as the mountains had shielded it from view when they lived on the other side of the planet. The mountains hid the moon almost permanently from Kairon, excepting two days every three years. For those two days, the Saiyans could return to the Ancient Form. Vegeta, who had become an unofficial ruler after his role in destroying the moon, was very old by this time, pushing 250, which is old even by Saiyan standards. Vegeta was advised to destroy the moon, but he declined the request, claiming it would be good for the Saiyans of future generations to remember where they came from, and expressed a desire not to deprive them of the great release supplied by the Oozaru transformation. Many of the other Saiyans, fanciful of their newfound intelligence, believed Vegeta was wrong, but kept themselves quiet, passing on their reservations and arguments to further generations. These arguments were the source of the Great War in later years, but that's another history lesson altogether. But there you have it. For two days every three years we celebrate Dentoyoru and remember, on the night of tradition, who we are, where we came from, and what it means to be a Saiyan, an Oozaru, a Svnklnr."
Vegeta raised his head at the use of the word Svnklnr.
"You use our true name," Vegeta questioned. Torat nodded.
"Leit, Cantor. Yes, prince, I believe that the word is far more powerful than those names we have accrued in Ergo. Svnklnr isn't our name, my prince. Svnklnr is who we are, it is what we are. Svnklnr is us."
Vegeta nodded. Torat was right. The ancient name of the Saiyan was known by few these days, and those who knew it were seemingly those in touch with their true Saiyan nature. Clearly, Torat was one of them.
The children sat, watching Torat intently, waiting to see if he was going to say more. Torat glared at them.
"Story time's over mongrels! Clear off! Go fight!" The children disbanded quickly and settled into their little sparring matches. Torat turned to Vegeta. "I trust we will see you at Dentoyoru this evening, Prince Vegeta?" Vegeta nodded curtly. "Excellent. Well I beg your pardon, my prince but I must leave. The brats need their evening meal, the fresh kills should get their blood lust running." The man bowed and left Vegeta, and the prince turned in the opposite direction, leaving the Raisem for his chambers to shower and change.
Dentoyoru came and went in a frenzy of blood, rage, lust and fighting. When Vegeta awoke the morning following his descent back into humanoid form, it was to a relative headache and sense of complete exhaustion. It was barely dawn when the Saiyan prince rose, forced to dry himself after a shower without his ki. The two days of Dentoyoru left even the strongest Saiyan drained of energy for at least a week. The Saiyan Council had long ago realized the danger of Dentoyoru, it provided the perfect opportunity for attack. The whole race was as helpless as prey animals in the time following the Dentoyoru.
Vegeta walked silently from the palace, down the levels of the city and into the Raisem. When he entered Vegeta found the vortlrns; Saiyan criminals who had had their tails removed as punishment; removing the over-heated, stinking corpses that remained from the Battle Royale on the opening eve of Dentoyoru. The Raisem stunk to the heavens, decomposing corpses and blood mingled with the stench of living scavengers. Vegeta snorted as he kicked at the corpse of a child, one he recognized as the same third class girl who had asked Torat about the origins of Dentoyoru before its initiation.
"Maybe if you were more of a proper Saiyan you would have stood a chance," he snarled, as he booted the corpse to one of the tailless. The soldier caught the corpse without a word and continued about his work.
"My Prince! Cantor!" came a voice. Vegeta turned around to see Torat making his way across the gory carpet. Vegeta nodded at the other man. Torat had been a very strong warrior in his day, hence his ability to be up and about only hours after the descent. "Unfortunate, is it not? The Battle Royale certainly took an interesting turn this year." Vegeta snorted again.
"If they'd been strong enough they would have survived. Clearly, the year this brood were born was a year of weakness." Torat nodded solemnly. Near the end of the Battle Royale, one of the children had put on a mind-blowing display of power. The child's friend had been killed during the fight, sending the child into a maddened Oozaru like rage. The child had powered up to a phenomenal level and released a planet shattering burst of energy which had destroyed all but eleven of the children, and nearly a hundred of the weaker adult Saiyans who had been watching the show. Unfortunately, the child had also destroyed itself in its rage.
"Any word on the child's identity?" Vegeta asked. Torat nodded.
"He was a first class of third class descent. Gohan was his name." Vegeta frowned.
"Hardly a Saiyan name for such a powerful brat."
"Leit. Son of a Saiyan named Kakkarot I believe." Vegeta frowned again, the name ringing a bell.
"Kakkarot who?"
"Kakkarot Bardocksson." Vegeta's eyes widened a little.
"That brat? Was the grandson of Bardock?" Torat nodded.
"Yes, Prince. Firstborn child of Bardock's oldest son." Vegeta surveyed the scene in the Raisem slowly. Bardock was a warrior of third class descent, one of the ancient Mountain folk. He was the first generation of his family to venture forth from the mountains since they had retreated up there hundreds of years ago. There is no way that such power should reside in such a low class bloodline.
"What of this Kakkarot? How is his strength? Does he display the same level as his son?" Torat shrugged.
"I know not, Prince. My knowledge of Bardock's family is limited to that which I have learned since the brat's death." Torat went silent and Vegeta mused for a second.
"It is of no importance really. I have things far more important than a child of strength with no decent blood, who is dead either way." Torat nodded again.
The two Saiyans turned from their conversation as another person entered the Raisem.
"Prince Vegeta," came the voice. Vegeta glared at the Saiyan.
"Speak quickly," Vegeta snapped. His temper was short and despite his depressed ki he could easily kill the Saiyan with his bare hands.
"Sorry to interrupt my prince, but your father has sent urgent word regarding the Volrun sales-"
"I am well aware of the Volrun sales. Get to the point or I'll lose my patience," Vegeta growled. The servant nodded shakily.
"They have rescheduled the sales my prince. They begin in two days." Vegeta swore angrily. It was lucky for the servant that the prince's ki was beyond his reach, or the servant's life may have ended sooner than the lowly Saiyan had anticipated.
"Off with you," snapped Torat. The servant turned and scuttled from the Raisem. "Why would they have moved sales?" Torat questioned Vegeta. Vegeta frowned.
"I don't know, and I don't care. Vegeta-sei has very little to sell this year. Buradea and its slaves are the top lots, a few minor planets. It's hardly worth my time." Vegeta turned, without another word and strode angrily from the Raisem.
Vegeta stepped out of the ship, onto Volrun's surface, feeling the familiar sensation of floating that always accompanied the trip to the Planet of Auctions, instilled by the minimal gravity; a tenth of that on Vegeta-sei. The prince collected himself and surveyed the planet before.
Once, Volrun had not been that different from Vegeta-sei, harbouring similar nature and life forms. However since its takeover by Artsans, a race of slave traders and merchants, the planet had fallen into disrepair and been overtaken by pollution. A thick grey smog hung low, against a backdrop of brown-orange sky, ruined by the excrement of the planet's many factories. The acrid smells burned Vegeta's nose and he could even taste the putrid elements on his tongue. Many of the Saiyans surrounding him appeared to be crying, the intense levels of pollution assaulting their eyes. Vegeta said nothing and headed forward across the boarding dock into the main Volrun complex, accompanied by his father and followed by the many servants and guards. There they met with the Chief of the slave traders an Artsan, Normac was his name. Like most people he encountered, Vegeta despised the man. The prince's upper lip curled as the man and his father exchanged formalities. The talking lasted for only a few moments, before Normac turned and gestured for the Saiyans to follow them.
"It is a mark of your inexperience, Vegeta, that you have the audacity to act with such hostility around-" came the voice of his father in a frustrated whisper.
"And why should I not? The man is filth not fit to shine the shoes of any Saiyan, let alone one such as myself." Vegeta glared at the man in front of him. "If he fears me, it is rightly so."
"You think too much of yourself Vegeta."
"And you think not enough of yourself old man. You are the weakest Saiyan King to have emerged since the early days."
King Vegeta uttered no response as Normac lead them outside back into the foul atmosphere. They emerged into the middle of dusty yards. Thin, dirt paths wove between rows and rows of cages that lined the sides. Stacked three cages tall, but only one deep so that all the contents could be seen, each cage contained one slave, or occasionally a mother and babe. A lot number was pinned to the door of the cage. Normac began to talk as he led the Saiyans through the jungle of cages. Vegeta barely listened as he observed the contents of the cages.
"..Best lot we've had in years," came Normac's voice. "Lots of high quality cattle, and in large quantities as well. Many strong planets have fallen, so many of the stronger planets are planning to purchase the higher quality cattle..."
Vegeta looked into one cage and saw a small child, no more than three years old, screaming its tiny little lungs out. A cruel smirk pulled at Vegeta's lips as he watched the child scream, no doubt for its mother. It had creamy chocolate skin, offset by forest green hair, one of the Buradean children. Vegeta was pleased to see that the fruits of their purge had made it to Volrun in time.
Vegeta kept walking as his father, Normac and the other Saiyans continued through their lots.
"..Very impressed with your horde, King Vegeta. The late addition of Buradea and its livestock to the catalogues should yield a handsome reward for you. Many of our top buyers have had their eye on Buradea for a number of years. You should be pleased with how it sells."
"What of the stock? Any word on how the buyers feel about them?"
"Aye, the buyers are pleased my lord. The Buradean woman are very strong, and reputedly hard to break. Few harems in the quadrant or beyond boast Buradean concubines. The chance to own such rarities has brought buyers from far and wide." The King smirked at Normac's words.
"Take me to these women. I want to see my stock for myself." Normac nodded and quickened the pace as he walked hurriedly past the seemingly endless rows of cages. Since he was a young boy Vegeta had travelled to Volrun sales with his father. It was a spectacular sight. Beings from every planet, race and walk of life were caged there. Though top vendor's such as Vegeta-sei culled their lots before sending them to Volrun to ensure on the highest quality stock reached the sales, many others were not so picky. As they moved through the cages Vegeta saw old men well into their last years, cripples, those who were so sick they could barely stand. He snarled in disgust at them. All these slaves were scum on the bottom of his foot. But the others were useless past pure torture subjects. They would hold for nothing else. They were the V3's, the Volrun third levels. Vegeta rarely sold stock below V1, only slipping into V2 very occasionally. Most of the V3's were a waste of time, they were better off to be killed, rather than attempt to sell such outclassed stock.
"Here you go, King Vegeta. These are the female Buradeans you own. All V1, might I add." King Vegeta paced slowly up and down in front of the cages. Most of the women had their backs turned, showing no sign of movement at the King's presence.
"You are filth, Saiyan!" came a strong voice amongst the cages.
"Who dares?" roared the king. His eyes flashed menacingly as he searched for the slave who had addressed him so. Vegeta smirked as he watched his father. King Vegeta's eyes locked on to a woman two levels up, sitting crouched in her cage, eyeing him maliciously. Her dark chocolate skin and ink blue eyes stared down at the king. King Vegeta smirked as he recognised the woman.
"Oh. Isn't this excellent." Vegeta looked up at the woman, and he too recognised her. She had been the queen of Buradea, a strong woman even by Buradean standards. The King smirked again and turned to Normac. "I do believe that this lot here is not for sale. She shall be an excellent addition to my private harem. I do not wish this one sold." The woman from the cage spat at the king from her lofty position. It missed.
"But my King, she will fetch a handsome price my lord. She is Buradean royalty."
"Leit," King Vegeta agreed. "But it is not for sale by any negotiation. Have this lot removed from the catalogue and have its cage transported to my ship immediately." Normac seemed hesitant. As Chief, he received 10% of all the lots sold in Volrun sales which he co-ordinated. The loss of such an exceptional lot left a hole burning in the man's pocket.
"As you wish, King. And what of the young prince? Anything that captures your interest Prince Vegeta? Perhaps something from another lot... the Kurnvites have some quite excellent female specimens from right across the galaxy." Vegeta raised an eyebrow. Finally, something worth his time.
"Very well, Artsan. Show me the Kurnvite's lots." Normac seemed pleased with Vegeta's change of mind and hurriedly lead him off in another direction. Vegeta's expert eye quickly examined the Buradean women as they walked past. All sat with their backs hunched over, facing into the back of their cages. For the moment they were covered in large, unbecoming clothes. They would however all be paraded in nothing but that with which they were born. This ensured that the buyers knew exactly what they were getting. Vegeta could see nothing of the Buradean natives except their hair, in its varying shades of blue and green. His eyes scanned past royal blues, forest greens, aqua, bright blue, lime green. It was a strange trait of their race, but only made them that more desirable to high class nobles.
Normac lead them through still more cages. By now the day was well under way and various breeds of people walked down the paths, inspecting stock. The buyers, mainly men, looked over their potential purchases with a critical eye.
Normac stopped them outside a lot of cages which looked, to Vegeta, just like every other cage they had passed. Next to them, one of Normac's workers had pulled a woman out of her cage. The shackle on the end of a long, hard, steel rod closed around her neck, and she was yanked forward. She glared at the buyer as another of Normac's men stripped her down. He then proceeded to flex her arms and legs, pointing out some of the woman's excellent features. Vegeta noticed tears sitting on the woman's eyelids. The yellow of her tears ran silently down her red cheeks as the men prodded and inspected her. Vegeta took little notice and turned back to his own lot.
"This, my prince, is the cream of the Kurnavite's lot this year." With another of the rod shackles, the man closed his tool around the woman's neck, then opened the door and pulled her forward.
Straight away Vegeta could see that the woman was not his type. She had an exquisite body, but there was something unsettling about the bright yellow skin and the extra eye in her forehead. Not only that, the woman had two mouths. She was a species which Vegeta had rarely seen. He turned and glared at Normac.
"See, Prince? Think of the wonders a woman with two mouths could perform..." Vegeta glared, closing his hand around Normac's throat in an instant.
"I have been buying at these sales for many years Normac, and still you show me stock like this?" the prince growled, dangerously low.
"But Prince-"
"No," growled Vegeta. "One more example of your insolence and I will not be so lenient." Normac nodded, swallowing, realizing he was in dangerous territory. Vegeta released the man's neck, not before it had been substantially bruised, then stood back and ordered the woman put back in her cage.
Vegeta was well known throughout slave traders as being very picky when it came to his concubines. The more they resembled a Saiyan, the better, though he refused to take a Saiyan bed mate until he was mated. The women of Vegeta's harem were all anatomically, as well as physically similar to Saiyans, save potentially hair colour. They all, were passable as Saiyans.
Normac lead them back through the paths and out the front to the Auction House. The building was magnificent. In the middle of the room was a large ring for parading the stock. At the top of the ring was a panel of auctioneers, and the rest of the ring was surrounding in ascending seating where the bidders sat. Vegeta, his father and their consort, took seats in the front row.
The next half hour before sales passed with agonizing slowness before the auctioneers finally appeared and the first lot was paraded.
Vegeta became increasingly frustrated as time passed. Sitting still was not one of his better qualities. His father attempted to engage his son in conversation but Vegeta just ignored him.
"Any of the Buradeans you wanted, son? I know they look similar enough to us, save their skin colour." Vegeta raised an eyebrow, barely interested.
"If you insist. You pick one, the likelihood of me using it at any rate is minimal." Vegeta turned his attention back to the sales where the first Buradean was being paraded, a small child, no older than four or five.
"Excellent opportunity to purchase a reputedly strong race at an age young enough to be reprogrammed," came the voice of the auctioneer.
The lots passed in at well over their reserve, much to King Vegeta's delight. The demand for Buradean labour it seemed, exceeded the supply. Able bodied men, children, women of all ages, women with babies, all sorts of lots passed through.
"Buradean woman and child here, an excellent two for one package. Not only this, the babe will make for excellent leverage and ensure obedience on behalf of the mother..."
The single women came last, clearly the most desired of the lots. The bids went crazy, driven up to double the reserve in mere minutes.
"That one looks alright, Vegeta," came the king's voice. His son didn't look up. "Looks less Buradean than the others."
"Whatever," Vegeta growled. All he could think of was returning to fight.
"Lot withdrawn!" yelled the King from the front seat. The auctioneer raised a puzzled eyebrow.
"Lot 1456, withdrawn," came the voice of the auctioneer. The slave was lead back out the entrance it had come. Vegeta looked up in time to see the Buradean head disappear behind a corner.
It was several more hours before sales finished, and Vegeta's temper was incredibly on edge.
"I don't care if the purchases are loaded!" Vegeta roared at his servants as they stood on the ramp of the Saiyan's ship. "I want this ship departing now!" He raised his hand and shot a beam of ki through the heart of the closest servant. The other Saiyans raised their eyes in fear and hurried about the ship. The engines started to whir as Vegeta stepped inside, frustrated. Woe betide whoever pissed him off next.
Perhaps he would need the services of his Buradean slave when he returned to Vegeta-sei after all.