Dragon Ball: Governed
Chapter 3
"World Vegeta"
To many, having the chance to look at various different pleasing planets while traversing through the vacuum of space would be a novelty—something marvelous to behold the eyes upon. The natural beauty of many worlds are unrivaled but they are of no exception to being taken for granted. Once seeing so many become familiar to the person, then it's just looked at as another casual object apart of life and not something special.
Saiyans were normally very used to this—starting specifically from childhood. Just looking out into space through the windows in their ships as they hopped from planet to planet was perhaps the most lifeless and uneventful part of their job as combatants. Quite like a field trip; one would be excited for the unexplored destination but when the time comes to head back home, the excitement that was once there immediately drops.
This was how the young Saiyan Raditz felt on the way back home after completing his first mission as a soldier. Sure, the kid appreciated seeing his mother and father whenever he could, but being at home grew bland, despite being so young. Continuously winning over weaker kids his around age on Planet Vegeta became laborious. Prior to becoming an official combatant, fighting off world was all that he dreamed about. Now that he was actually on the frontlines, the kid wanted nothing more but to stay off world and fight. He was loving battle just as much as the next Saiyan and he had no shame in seeing through with the evil deeds that came with it. In fact, he took pleasure in taking lives.
His only other comrade the same age as him, Prince Vegeta sat next to him in their white colored duo ship and let out a sigh of aggravation. Vegeta made his disappointment be known non-verbally before letting his frustrations out by remarking on their most recent assignment.
"That mission was an absolute waste. The only fun I got from them were their screams. Other than that, I didn't even come to get a decent warm up from those pests—just a couple scratches."
Unlike most sentient children, the Prince didn't lack common sense. He realized that as he continued to grow in power, his missions would naturally become easier to address. And even while knowing this for a fact, he at the very least desired to have some decent exercitation before ultimately crushing and degrading his victims. The easy work made it no fun at all.
After hearing Vegeta's comment on how ridiculously mundane their mission was for him, Raditz chuckled. As for Raditz's personal experience dealing with those people, it wasn't as easy considering the fact that his left arm was sprained as a result—something that had gone unnoticed by his comrades. Though in an effort to live up to Vegeta's spirit, Raditz agreed. "Right. You should ask the King to have us assigned the best missions he's got. They weren't even worth the entertainment." Even though this was his first ever venture as a Saiyan combatant, he was speaking as if he had been doing this for years.
"He already is," Vegeta replied, rolling his eyes. Mushing his right cheek with his hand as he leaned on his arm chair, he closed his eyes. "I just hope my father has something better for me the next go round, otherwise I'm just going to look forward to watching you and the others deal with weaklings."
"Right."
While Vegeta quietly drifted off to sleep just as the other two did behind them, Raditz remained with his eyes peeled. It had been a few months since he last interacted with his own father. He already realized the chances of him and his father being home at the same time were all less likely now given the fact that both were to now spend a great amount of their time off world. It now seemed that all he got to look forward to was a nice welcoming from his mother.
Hours pass and morning time had made its presence known on Planet Vegeta. At times the sun itself would force an individual to wake up from their slumber, just because of the heat finding its way inside the homes of those that remained on the planet.
"WAHHH! WAHHH!"
Gine's eyes shot open as if she had just witnessed the worse nightmare in her life. Althoguh her son's cries was the very thing that happened to wake her up, a nightmare of Bardock and Kakarot screaming in unison had nearly gave the woman a panic attack. Glancing over to the other side of where she slept, she laid her eyes on a near-perfectly sheeted bed—an indication of Bardock's absence.
Still not here.
Any mission could take just a few weeks to a few months. So far it had been 4 weeks since Bardock left and the more that time passed, the more she grew concerned. Kakarot's crying didn't come to a stop so Gine had to snap out of her thoughts and attend to him. For the life of her she wondered why her son wasn't in the bed, resting his head on her as he usually pleased. Looking across in her bedroom, she came to see her wooden door wide open. It didn't take long for Gine to realize just what the young child could be doing.
"Crap!"
Quicker than the eye could see, Gine dashed from the bedroom and into the kitchen of her house, which was where all her work tools were placed. She wasn't as worried for the equipment utilized for work as she was regarding the chopped slabs of meat that dangled from metal hooks affixed to her rocky, sturdy walls.
Imagine her disappointment upon finding her surprise when she came to see Kakarot was crying and throwing a fuss because he didn't have any more food to eat. Knives, spoons, forks and bones were scattered all over the floor and Kakarot just jumped up and down with hot, red cheeks that expressed great frustration. The little boy had already ate a shit ton yet here he was, wanting more.
Kakarot was a headache. Whenever the kid went unsupervised, he began to act rambunctious and boneheaded, as if he had no proper training.
Gine stood there with her hands on her hips and an obvious look of impatience. Jumping up and down after causing a ruckus, Kakarot didn't become cognizant of his mother's presence because of the fact that he focused on crying out loud far too much.
As soon as he opened his eyes and saw her, the tears dried up and Kakarot's foot remained planted onto the floor—as still as a statue he was.
"Clean this mess up or you don't get to eat at all for the rest of the day," Gine said calmly with a stern tone.
Remaining still with a blank face for a couple of seconds, Kakarot just continued to stare at his mother as if he didn't even understand a single word she said. Though the kid's level of speaking wasn't all too advanced yet, his comprehension was perfectly fine as showcased to Gine dozens of times whenever she taught him how to work like her. With her son still being unresponsive, all Gine needed to do following this was wag her tail quick and hard from side to side to get her 3 year old to get down and start picking up the mess he made.
That was an obvious sign that if he didn't listen, he'd be punished by having his tail squeezed or perhaps even tugged. No Saiyan loved this feeling and Kakarot would rather be responsible instead of having to go through that.
Smiling, all proud of her maternal skills, Gine no longer concerned herself with her boy being out of control and headed for outside where she expected her meat delivery to work on for the day.
The people to get up earliest around these times were the younger Saiyans, who were either being awakened to be trained or to work under someone else's guidance. She easily recognized the Saiyan children that walked around as she saw their faces every day.
"Ay, yo!"
Though she didn't need to see Raditz's face to recognize him. That same cut-throat voice he got from his father was all too discernible. Far too many weeks had passed since she last seen her son. While aware that he was very capable as a warrior, she couldn't help but worry over time. She truly wasn't the typical Saiyan woman.
Gine didn't hesitate and ran up to her boy, picking him up off his feet. "Raditz!" she exclaimed excitedly. "How ya been, huh?"
Raditz quickly got red and squinted his face as he tensed up, showing no shame in expressing his discomfort.
"Mom, stop that! I'm a warrior, not some damn baby!"
Gine scoffed and obliged her son by putting him back down onto his feet. "Oh so just because you're working with Prince Vegeta, you're some hot shot now, huh?"
Raditz crossed his arms and grinned at her. "That's right." Embarrassed one second and smug the next, Raditz was quick to change his attitude in a heart-beat. She had no idea where he got it from but his pride was definitely rooted from his father and it'd most undoubtedly come to be perpetuated by Prince Vegeta. Ready to get back home, Raditz began walking toward his house.
"So? How was it?" Gine asked, referring to her boy's first mission.
"Easy," Raditz answered. "Way too easy. Those weaklings didn't stand a chance against me and the others."
While walking back home side by side, Gine subtly scrutinized Raditz's appearance. Looking over some of the damage done to his armor as well as the scratches that were all over his body, she eventually came to notice his left arm. Upon seeing the sizes of Raditz's right and left arm being slightly different, she realized that the latter was swollen.
Grabbing him by the wrist, she brought Raditz to an unexpected halt. Seeing that Gine was looking over his sprained arm, the boy scoffed and pulled it back. "It's nothing."
"Doesn't seem like it to me," Gine responded. She knew that a sprained arm was nothing for a Saiyan but this showed that the mission wasn't as easy for Raditz as he made it seem. Why did some people have to hide such simple and minute things? Just to keep their pride intact? Raditz still completed the mission so he shouldn't have needed to feel any shame about a sprained arm that'd heal in no time.
Quickly changing the topic, he brought up his brother. "Is Kakarot off world or is he still in that capsule?" It was pitiful enough to him that Kakarot was at home in an incubator for so long. Raditz believed he should have been off world by now completing a frontier mission so if his brother was still home in a nursing capsuple, then that'd merely reinforce his initial belief of his younger brother being pathetic.
"Go look for yourself." Out of the corner of her eye, Gine saw a Saiyan rolling a basket full of freshly cooked meat in buckets. Seeing that was her cue to retrieve the delivery, she turned around to make sure she got her needed daily supply, leaving Raditz to enter his house.
Go look for myself? Does that mean Kakarot's still here?
If that meant that his brother was still here inside that capsule, then Raditz would just feel better off not even interacting with his brother. To be a son of Bardock and be no fighter was just ridiculous in his eyes. Once he took one little turn, Raditz had entered his home. The first thing he saw upon entering the kitchen was Kakarot standing on top of a chair, hanging up all the knives that he had thrashed onto the floor just moments earlier.
So he is here.
Much to his surprise, Kakarot was home, yet not inside the incubation capsule. For his brother to be outside that nursing tank and not sent off must have surely meant that his brother was a late bloomer—that he'd be raised as a combatant due to his high potential as a Saiyan warrior.
Oh how wrong he was.
"Looks like I won't have a pathetic excuse for a brother after all," Raditz said loudly, making his presence known.
Once he hung up the last knife, Kakarot turned his head. After laying eyes on his older brother for the first time in a while, he giggled, which was a definite sign that he remembered his older brother. "Waditz." Despite most of his time being spent sleeping inside the nursing capsule, there were times in which Gine would momentarily bring her son out so that he could become familiar with her and those around him. All the while never seeing his brother and father together at the same time, Kakarot knew precisely who was who. The younger of the two hopped onto the counter and just sat there, staring at Raditz.
"It's Raditz," he corrected as he sat down on a chair in the corner of the house. To him it was a good sign for his brother to be outside the tank and not off world, as that gave him the impression that his younger brother was to become a combatant, though it didn't make sense as to why Kakarot wasn't currently being trained to fight.
"Alright, back." Gine entered the house with an armful of bagged meat. "Get off the counter, Kakarot." Once he did as told, Gine put the bags on the counter. "Now take them out and get to cutting."
"Kay." The little boy went over to grab the chair he used to set the knives back up so he could be at the proper height to take the food out and cut them.
"And don't eat the food, either," she added, having not forgotten about this morning's incident.
"How come Kakarot isn't training?" Raditz asked. Not able to get that question out of his mind, he felt like he needed to know, for this was far too much out of the usual.
"Kakarot will be staying here with me, working for the meat distribution center, too," Gine told him.
That was definitely not what he expected.
"...You're joking, right?"
"No. Kakarot is far too weak to go out there as an infiltration child and chances are, he wouldn't survive. I didn't want to take that risk so I requested that he stay here with me as a worker, where he is sure to do an efficient job."
Raditz abruptly removed himself from the chair he sat in, obviously displeased at his mother's words. "You're telling me Kakarot is just going to be a lower-class working Saiyan, who'll never taste the world of combat?"
"Do you have a problem with that?" Gine asked, her tone deliberately lowered.
Raditz knew that Gine was getting serious but he didn't care. The young Saiyan child still had his own beliefs and he stuck by it. "Of course I do! He's my brother; Bardock's son! He should be a first-rate warrior in preparation for the frontlines like I was, not some Saiyan who'll cower in the line of combat. Mother, don't you understand that there are standards? A Saiyan should at least battle before the decision is made for them to be put to work or not. EVEN YOU FOUGHT at one point."
"It's different now," Gine told Raditz. "He takes after me more than anything and you already know the stories of how much of a liability I was on the battlefield. If Kakarot gets put in the same position, I'm afraid he won't have any companions as compassionate as your father was with me and his comrades."
Raditz ignored her words and turned on his scouter. If Kakarot was this pathetic, then just how weak was he really? He couldn't have had a power-level any higher than 10.
PIPIPIPIPIPIPIPI
Just after a couple seconds of beeping and Raditz got a result reading of five. Turning it off, Raditz just decided to leave. His stomach felt sick at the fact that he was in the presence of such a weakling. Not even 2 minutes of being back home and Raditz was tired of being in the house. "Where's father?" There weren't any current available missions, so he had to do something to occupy himself. If Bardock wasn't anywhere around, then Raditz figured hunting animals on the outskirts of Planet Vegeta and turning them in for small rewards would be the perfect pass time until he was called in for his next conquest.
"He left again before you came back," Gine told him. Of course, she made sure to keep any other details regarding Bardock to herself. Raditz could act proud and mighty all he wanted, but she knew that he definitely looked up to Bardock. She didn't want to worry him so saying less than necessary was perfectly sufficient.
"Surprise surprise…" Raditz sarcastically commented. Not sharing another word with his mother or brother, Raditz left the house and took off.
Once Raditz was gone, Kakarot stopped chopping and looked over to Gine. "Ma," he called for her.
"Hm?"
The little boy had great understanding and could even feel that his big brother had some animosity toward him. "Why don't Waditz like me?" While young, Kakarot wasn't aware of the great importance that his fellow Saiyan peers saw in strength. He didn't realize that it was looked at as something special—something that warranted respect.
All she could do was give a soft smile, which would be taken more as a frown than anything. She couldn't even answer him.
"Just keep working," she told him. "I'll check up on you in a bit, okay?"
Kakarot just watched as Gine walked toward her bedroom, obviously upset. This just made him feel even more uncomfortable. "Okay..."
Whenever Prince Vegeta bypassed any other Saiyan as he walked, he was typically treated with a bow of the head out of respect, which of course, was obligatory. Though only 8, he was used to this and didn't even think of his inferiors as anything else than pawns that his father used—the same pawns he'd have total access to when he becomes King.
Walking through dark hallways that like the throne room, had stained glass windows, Prince Vegeta had his mind on one thing and one thing only: his rule as a King. Though it'd be a long time until that were to happen, this was all the Prince ever looked forward to. To be King would to have the ultimate position in Saiyan society and as a result, he'd be the most respected. He already had enough special treatment as of his current position but the young prince had an insatiable desire for more.
"What's on your mind, Prince?" Nappa asked as he walked alongside Vegeta. While not the sharpest knife in the kitchen drawer, Nappa has spent enough time with the royal Saiyan that he could tell whether something was on his mind of not. Granted, something was always on Vegeta's mind but Nappa was quick to pick up when Vegeta was more silent than usual.
Their three other comrades had split as soon as they arrived back, but Nappa for some reason, typically stayed by Vegeta's side. Didn't he have anything better to do? Vegeta was usually annoyed by Nappa at times, especially when he preferred to be alone. However, he never outright disrespected Nappa given the fact that King Vegeta greatly admired him for his insane tenacity as a warrior on the battle-field. Prince Vegeta, out of respect for his father, felt obligated to respecting Nappa to some degree. Hell, Nappa was even promised that if he kept up the hard work, he'd be promoted to mid-class status. As soon as Nappa gets promoted, then the balding beast would be out of his hair. All he had to do for the moment was tolerate him until that time came.
"A lot," Vegeta answered Nappa. The many great questions and fantasies Vegeta had going through his head were things he never bothered opening up to anybody because to open up was a sign of weakness in his eyes. The young boy was far too proud to let known anything he felt to be vulnerable in his mind, so he figured that he'd be able to handle everything himself without seeming like a whiny brat. "Did father request that you walk me back to our dining room?"
"No."
Vegeta rolled his eyes. "I don't need a babysitter, Nappa." Stopping just yards before the entrance of the royal dining room, Prince Vegeta looked up at the humongous man. "Go out and get some rest while you can. I can assure you that on our next trip we'll be gone for a while and you'll need all the strength you can muster."
Vegeta's words instantly inspired Nappa to get back home and rest up as told. The only thing on this Saiyan's mind was food and battle, but mostly battle. The idea of a destruction and calamity is what Nappa lived for and if their next ventures were to be challenging, then he was all for it. "You can bet on that, Prince." Before making his leave, Nappa bowed to Vegeta.
Finally being left from the aggravation, he let out a sigh of relief. "What a nuisance," Vegeta mumbled under his breath as he pressed his hand against the dining room door. From the moment he entered, Prince Vegeta was hit by a mixture of various different yet enticing aromata that emanated from the countless freshly cooked meals and baked treats that were meticulously arranged on the dining table.
The dining room's atmosphere was synonymous to that of the throne room, which was quite dark apart from certain pretty light brought in through stained glass windows. For some reason, the King really loved those types of glass. To him, they signifed divinity and nobility. Asides from that, to add to his decorative style, they had a nice and bright silver chandelier placed directly above the dining table made of mahogany.
King Vegeta sat on one side of the dining room as ten other chairs were filled with his mid-class Saiyan warriors. Their food consisted of all various sweets, meat and exotic drinks. Some were colorful looking and shaped oddly, though all appeared delectable nonetheless. As always the royal Saiyan's butler, Ail, always came through with the finest fragrances that'd compell anybody (Saiyan or not) to eat, however all of the great food had remained untouched since King Vegeta wished to wait for his son's arrival before anybody got to digging in.
King Vegeta admired food and combat just as much as the next Saiyan, though he admired his son just as much. Pride as a father couldn't be hidden, nor could his smile as he was now in the presence of his first born.
"Welcome back, my boy." All of the other Saiyans removed themselves from their seats and bowed to their prince, patiently waiting until he seated himself. Before taking his first few steps while in the room, King Vegeta had snapped his fingers. As soon as the noise had been made, a tailess Saiyan with a ripped shirt exposing a multitude of welts and scars came running like his life depended on it. Just seconds before Prince Vegeta made it to his seat, the Saiyan pulled out the seat and got on all fours just under the table for the prince to place his feet upon his back. Subsequent to making it to his designated table, the other Saiyans sat back down.
"I take it your assignment went well," King Vegeta spoke. "Ail will be giving you your earned profit whenever you next leave the castle."
Given that this area is extremely sensitive to echoes, those who entered the dining room were naturally conditioned to speak at a lower tone compared to their casual outside public voices. And even still, the King's voice was so deep that anything he said or mumbled could still be very well heard.
"Too well," Prince Vegeta replied as he took a bite of the very first thing he saw. Once he took his very first bite, most of the other Saiyans started to dig in as well.
Catching how his son worded 'Too well', the King realized there was something more to it. He knew how his son operated for the most part, as they were far too similar. "What is it exactly the matter with this mission being absolutely successful?"
"Too easy for me," Prince Vegeta replied.
"Why, yes, of course. That is a given; as your power continues to grow, the missions you take on will result in being more effortless in your part. I specifically give you the hardest missions available to test your power and you continue to come back as if they weren't much to offier. Trust me I know, for I was in your exact place once upon a time."
"I don't ask for a challenge but I at least desire to have fun when I fight. I've been battling weakling after weakling and it gets old, father. All I wish to have is a mission that's actually worthwhile."
Silence would have followed after this moment if not for the sounds of their fellow Saiyan peers eating. All weren't bothered by the abrut quietness and continued to get their grub on, save for one, who was focused on being more observant of current events rather than accomodating himself to a fine meal. King Vegeta spent his personal moment of silence thinking on how to respond to his son. If there was any one fault when it came to Prince Vegeta, it was his impatience. He himself was like that when he was younger, but he's grown as a Saiyan King. However on the other hand, King Vegeta did understand his son's current predicament. The Prince merely desired to enjoy himself as he fought while The King wished to challenge his son so that he could grow stronger. For a while, he questioned whether or not on if he should assign his son to Planet Kanassa but upon thought, that was out of the question, so he had the assignment be brought to a group of lower-class soldiers. Once they were to expectedly fail and die, he'd just officialize the mission as a success so that it could finally be out of the picture.
Regardless, the fact of the matter was that he needed his son to grow stronger at exponential rates so that he could become powerful enough to take down and dethrone Freeza. In King Vegeta's eyes, his son was their only hope so something needed to be done about it.
Once the King had his thoughts all set, he broke the verbal silence.
"I understand your dilemma, son. Despite your great potential, you too, are bound to hitting some barrier that'll need to be overcome. All Saiyans hit this limit when they're fully grown and I doubt you'll be an exception, regardless of your great strength. I, too, have been thinking about this. After countless conversations with my advisors, we've finally come to the conclusion of what it is that we want to do. This will undoubtedly help you, who'll be our first guinea pig. Explain it to him, Zorn."
Now the Prince's interest was piqued. Many more questions came over his mind but whenever his curiosity was up, Vegeta's patience was as well.
One of the King's best mid-class warriors, Zorn, went on to explain to the Prince what exactly it is that his father had been referring to. "The scientists of our world are looking for the next breakthrough when it comes to increasing one's power. Long ago, Saibaimen were genuinely useful to the entirety of the Saiyan race regarding training and combat, but nowadays you realize that their main focal role has been to assist other warriors in the midst of battle. As of right now, they're going through a process of genetic engineering when it comes to these creatures. After growing them in soil, the Saibaimen are incapacitated and used for research and experiments so that we can find a way to make them stronger so that results of training with them can be as beneficial as it once was."
"Back up," Prince Vegeta told him.
Zorn, having thought he explained everything perfectly, looked over to the King, who nodded to his son as a signal for Zorn to listen. Respecting both his Prince and King, he did as told and made sure to go over every word that was to come out of Prince Vegeta's mouth.
"You say that these things are being planted first and then researched?"
"Yes," Zorn answered. "That is correct."
Prince Vegeta scoffed. That was the problem: they had everything ass backwards. "Please remind those science fools that it's the soil that determines the strength of a Saibaimen. Instead of growing them first, tell them that they ought to try and work on making abnormal and potent soil so that the Saibaimen can come out much stronger than what we're used to. And once that's figured out, then work on how those things can be made more docile so that they're easier to control. A strong Saibaimen can be dangerous if they decide to jump at the ones who permitted them to live in the first place."
"Ah…" Zorn, a man well in his forties, was stunned at how quick and easy that the young Saiyan Prince managed to come up to this conclusion. "I...I'm speechless." Hastily getting up from his seat, Zorn figured that he ought to tell these scientists word by word what Vegeta told him for as long as he remembered. "I'm glad you've decided to speak up, Prince Vegeta. Your advice just may be the absolute solution to our current obstacle. Now if you'll excuse me." Before taking his leave, he bowed and thanked Vegeta.
King Vegeta had to recover quickly before almost choking on his water once he heard his son's response. His line of thinking regarding how they should go about their research was perfectly on par with that of that young clone's thinking.
Kuni
Though strength was something the King respected most out of his son, the boy's smarts was a definite bonus as well. The fact that Prince Vegeta, an eight year old child, would have come to the conclusion of a young scentific prodigy so quickly was nothing short of marvelous. And this had just reminded him of something else entirely. Abruptly removing himself from his seat, King Vegeta beckoned his son to follow.
The sounds of the boots of father and son echoed through the dark and dimly lit corridors of the King's remarkable abode. His castle, which had a multitude of add ons for different rooms of service, was even more sensitive to echoes compared to the dining room. One single word being muttered could result in someone from 20 yards behind hearing them perfectly. Casual talk wasn't the best option when it came to walking around this area so the two royal Saiyans didn't utter a single word.
Before reaching their destination, King Vegeta finally spoke up. "Had I not been thinking so much about other matters, I believe I would have been able to come up with the same conclusion that you did just moments earlier."
"I'm surprised you didn't, father. It's just common sense and I know that you have that."
"Hm. That's because I've been far too focused on this." Opening the door in front of them, father and son came to see the dozens of nursing capsules inside this one very room. "I've been questioning something lately my son and before I decided to take action, I believe some of your own input would be of great importance."
In this room, there were many scientists on the duty of observing new Saiyan children. These were the ones to decide if they were to be classified as lower-class children, low-class combatants and so forth. All kept quiet and remained doing their jobs in the presence of the King and the Prince. Here, the two needed not to worry about important matters being overheard due to the sounds of bubbling coming from the countless nursing capsules as well as the constant beeping noises from virtual screened tablets and computers that identically cloned blue haired women clicked on as a way to record data from the other scientists who scribbled notes on their paper.
Curious as to what his father was subtly speaking about, Vegeta asked: "What is it?" To him, it was just a bunch of Saiyan children that were either to be assigned infiltration missions or being raised as combatants. What could possibly be the King's thoughts regarding them?
"A lot of Saiyan children seem to not have the genuine makings of a possibly great warrior after birth. Their power is low, meaning innate potential is not all too promising. I've been believing recently that the incorrect course of sending young lower-class Saiyans to random planets with the chance of being killed off needs to be altered for now. Their chances of being found by the Galactic Patrol and or doing something idiotic to get themselves killed is more of a detriment to us than anything beneficial."
"But that's the perfect way of distinguishing the weak from the strong," Prince Vegeta reminded.
"Yes, I, and your royal ancestors have been under the same mindset as well. But for us to instead allow these weaker Saiyans here to either work or train to become combatants would be of a better choice. For one, we need not worry about members of the next generation getting killed off, thus making our army and work centers even stronger! What do you think, my son?"
Prince Vegeta rubbed his chin as he started to think over his father's words. Sure enough, having a young Saiyan be put in such situations would be telling of just how much Saiyan spirit they have but on the contrary, giving them the chance to stay on Planet Vegeta and still benefit instead of going off to die made sense as well. Prince Vegeta could understand both perspectives, albeit from an objective standpoint, he knew that King Vegeta's words made the most sense. "I can agree it's a good idea but I prefer this current system we have going on right now."
Palpating his goatee, King Vegeta further thought on this topic. He understood his son's viewpoint one hundred percent yet at the same time, even he wasn't too old for some change—even if it was temporary. "Hm...agreed. You and I both are far too used to our current method—especially myself. However my curious side has compelled me to at least change up the way of things momentarily, to see if this method could actually come to benefit us. If not, then we'll merely go back to old customs."
The Prince just shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't like he really cared anyway. At the end of the day his father was King and his word was final so the Prince really didn't have any concerns regarding his own opinion. This was precisely why he couldn't wait to be King; every word or order would be taken and without question. Walking around the nursing room, once Vegeta caught eye of a green incubator from afar, memories of a certain person had started coming back to him. The incubator was reserved solely for the future promising Saiyans. While the question was now hot in his head, he simply asked his father.
"How is Tarble's progress?"
Prince Vegeta recalled that prior to his previous leave off-world, Tarble was being trained to become a warrior. Vegeta expected his brother to be placed by his side on missions of the future but he knew that Tarble tended to hold himself back. Either his brother was still here...or off world. Last time he checked, Tarble continued to perform pitifully due to his unwillingness to battle. He hoped that things would have bettered in recent times.
"Hm? Oh." King Vegeta folded his arms. "Your brother has great latent potential, corresponent to your own, but the boy is pathetic—a pacifist to be accurate. He lacks the Saiyan pride and spirit to fight, which makes him a waste of strength. Just soon after you left with your comrades a while ago, I made the choice of sending your brother away to some remote planet where he needs not worry about battle. If he comes back right and up to royal expectations, then he should be accepted. However, if his pathetic persona carries on in the future, he has no place on this Planet."
The young prince shook his head. What an absolute shame. How could a Saiyan of Royal Blood not have any real fighting spirit? Vegeta couldn't get it. The entire notion in itself was a damn paradox to him but life was confusing like that sometimes. Brother or not, there are certain places for the weak and the strong. And as far as he was concerned, these two were in very different places. Regardless, Prince Vegeta wondered if his father purposely sent Tarble away to a remote planet for Tarble's safety or just to merely get him out the picture. Tarble is still his son, so Vegeta could imagine his father did so to protect not only Tarble, but their reputation as royal Saiyans. To be seen with a pacifistic Saiyan in the royal family is damaging to rep so it was a necessary action on the King's behalf. Though disappointed, the Prince understood.
"My son." Vegeta placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. Once the king got the prince's attention, he continued to speak. "I can feel the eagerness within you when it comes to facing these enhanced Saibaimen. But while we work on that, I've managed to find a mission in which you'll be bound to truly test your power. The inhabitants there are extremely potent and will require all of your focus. Walk with me and I'll inform you on all the prerquisite details."
Barely able to hold his excitement, Prince Vegeta wished for his father to speak on. "Please...do tell."
To have the capabilities of foreseeing the future is more of a curse than it is a blessing. Those with these abilities were the Kanassans, a race of people who have always been honorable optimists at heart. Despite the pain and spoiling moments that came with these visions, they always did their best to see the good in it, so that their people could thrive. Using their cursed visions to their advantage was just how the established sires of the past were able to build such a successful civilization—as mundane as it was.
The leader of Planet Kanassa, like his citizens, had the features of a dark blue scaly skin with their face and front body being the exception for said features. It was light and smooth and their eyes were narrow and menacing, though despite their intimidating appearance, they were all pure-hearted individuals, as they placed great importance on honor and integrity for the commonwealth. Crime was VERY rare and all tended to get along quite well.
Inside a bright purple room surrounded by gigantic tanks filled with water, the leader of Planet Kanassa was alone in a room, face to face with the commander-in-chief of the Kanassan army.
Many weren't natural fighters, so their armies were very small in number—there being only a couple dozen soldiers short of one hundred total. Like their citizens, the soldiers could also foresee the future, but they were merely blessed with seeing future events in split moments. On the other hand, the commander-in-chief of the army was capable of seeing how their intruders were to make their arrival known and they saw how things would thoroughly turn out—it wasn't good.
"Our citizens grow concerned over these weird visions they continue to have and they are demanding answers. Intuition of ominous days ahead are being sensed and I want to make sure that my people are safe."
"And what about their sense of security?"
Sense of security? Seriously?
"With all due respect, Thon, I don't care if my people need to feel safe or not. What I care for is them actually being safe—period. Tomorrow morning, you'll let them know the truth and send in the order for everyone to be sent to vaults so that they are not caught in the midst of the hell that will come. Upon that, make sure our men are well prepared and that a plan is set in place. in cases like these, make sure our soldiers show NO mercy. Do you understand?"
Thon nodded his head, getting the point perfectly. "I'll be sure to set up everything as you wish, sir. On my dignity, I promise that we won't lose."
"Of course, Thon. You never disappoint."
With their conversation finished, Thon began his exit from the room. He was to head home to his family and rest one last time before setting their defensive scheme into motion. Just after opening and closing the door behind him, Thon closed his eyes as he walked the bright hallways of the President's building. All he could see was death and destruction.
Still, if he were to revisit these visions over and over, then he would most definitely be able to devise a preventive strategy—one that'd gurantee triumph.
