"I wonder what our race would say if they saw their own prince preventing the destruction of a worthless planet and a worthless race."

Vegeta threw a punch that was a direct hit. Kakarrot was weakening, and his attempts were not only failing, but pathetic to say the least.

"I wonder if your father would disown you."

Vegeta froze as Kakarrot's blow made contact. A punch hit his face, and he fell from the sky and hit the ground, already seething with rage. How dare Kakarrot—Vegeta took off with such force that a crater was left in his wake, and he met Kakarrot in the air. "My father was a great man," Vegeta growled. "He deserves your respect."

Kakarrot paused, then looked closer at Vegeta. "Was? So your father is gone?" Then he threw back his head and laughed harshly. "If he was anything like you, that's no surprise. A fool who let his compassionate emotions lead him—"

"Shut up!"Vegeta hit Kakarrot with such force that he thought he heard Kakarrot's jaw crack. His father was a leader! King Vegeta had led the Saiyans to victory in the great Tuffle War! He had not passed on due to an overflow of sentimentality!

"But like father like son, I suppose," Kakarrot said, wiping the blood off his jaw and retaliating with a hit that would've given Vegeta a concussion had he not been invincible. "Such a loving nature. So pathetic."

Vegeta's insides seared as though doused in lava. Kakarrot had no right to speak ill of his father, someone who had not only been Kakarrot's superior but also his king and ruler! He was on his feet in an instant and fighting with savage intentions, all logic and calculated planning forgotten. Kakarrot saw this and beat Vegeta back with a glow in his eyes.

But then, there was hope. Kakarrot's exhaustion physically manifested itself, and suddenly his long golden hair shortened. Now the playing field was more even. Vegeta continued his assault, beating Kakarrot back. Vegeta knew that he was going to win. He was not only going to prove that he was the strongest fighter alive but also make Kakarrot pay for falsifying his father's memory.

His father was a king. His father was a memory to be honored, not desecrated. King Vegeta was—

Kakarrot's next blow made contact, and as Vegeta felt the hit on his face, he gasped. Suddenly, instantaneously, pain like nothing he'd felt before coursed through his body like a fire. Unconsciousness threatened to consume him, and his golden hair vanished to be replaced by black. He fell heavily to the ground, and when he hit the earth, a coughing fit wracked him until he wiped his mouth and saw red. Still fighting to stay conscious, Vegeta couldn't understand. What was wrong? What had happened? Why was he experiencing such agonizing pain?

No!

Those fools! Why hadn't they given him the power of invincibility for a week or at least a day? But to only give him an hour to finish the battle wasn't enough time!

Kakarrot landed and kicked Vegeta harshly.

"Looks like the battle is over," Kakarrot said. "But I'll make sure you suffer. A prince who abandons his race deserves as much. You'll be the last one I destroy. Maybe I'll even let you watch as I end the female and young one."

Vegeta blinked hard as he attempted to summon any reserves of strength within him, but the pain he felt completely obliterated his reserves of energy. But he had to stop Kakarrot. With everything left within him, he had to win. Vegeta inhaled a ragged breath, then reached out to try to grab Kakarrot's ankle. "Don't. . . " he groaned. Another kick sent him flying.

"I wonder, though. I wonder if your father looked like this before he, too, succumbed to his injuries. Did he beg like a dog as well?" Then Kakarrot took off, and Vegeta could only watch as he soared away toward the others. Toward his first victims.

None of them could defeat him. Vegeta knew that if he didn't get up and face Kakarrot, the world was done for. Kakarrot was still on the edge of his third form, and that was something that no one could match. If Goten and Trunks worked together, it was possible that they could hold off Kakarrot for a time, but they both lacked vital battle experience which gave Kakarrot the edge. A fusion between the two half-Saiyans might defeat him, but they were too arrogant in such a form. Besides that, performing the fusion technique would take too much time, and Vegeta knew that Kakarrot wouldn't mess around. Not anymore. Piccolo wasn't strong enough. Neither were Krillin or Gohan. Tien and Yamcha didn't come close.

He was the only one. The only one. Why couldn't he get up? Why couldn't he beat Kakarrot? Why was this happening again? What was he lacking? What did he lack that made him forever unable to save those close to him?

He had to get up. He had to save his father.

The memories were now so strong that they nearly suffocated Vegeta as he lay on the ground. King Vegeta, ruler of the entire Saiyan race. King Vegeta, winner of a ten-year-long war. King Vegeta, his father.

His father . . .

Vegeta couldn't help but marvel at the commanding aura his father gave off as he addressed the crowd. The noise was deafening, but Vegeta could clearly make out what every Saiyan alike, young and old, was chanting. They were shouting his father's name. They were cheering for him. To watch King Vegeta finish his speech and bid a farewell to the crowd was mesmerizing to say the least. Vegeta, who had been watching his father from the shadows the entire time, quickly followed his father and kept quiet. He wasn't allowed out past curfew, but his desire to watch such an event as King Vegeta's speech had driven him into the crowd like a moth to flame. Now just to get back to bed before his father checked his room to make sure he was sleeping . . .

"Hello, son," King Vegeta said without turning around.

Darn it! How did his father hear him? Vegeta froze then put his head down, feeling both embarrassed and nervous. Was he going to be punished? "H-hello, Dad."

King Vegeta turned to face him. "Why are you out so late?"

Vegeta was glad to see that his father didn't yet look angry. He dug the toe of his weighted boot in the ground. "I wanted to hear your speech," he muttered.

"And what did you think of it?"

Vegeta glanced up at his father briefly. "Am I in trouble?" he asked smally.

"Hm. Well, it's only a half hour after your curfew. I don't see why that rule can't be broken once in a full moon."

Vegeta nearly bounced up and down as he grinned up at his father, nodding furiously. "Yeah!"

"So? What did you think of my speech?"

"I thought it was great," Vegeta gushed. "All the Saiyans were shouting your name."

"Yes. If I'm not careful, it'll go to my head."

Vegeta didn't really understand the comment, but he fell silent nonetheless. At least he wasn't in trouble. That was good. A question suddenly came to him. "Dad, why are you such a good leader?"

King Vegeta paused. "Well, before I answer, what do you think is the reason?"

"Because you're my dad," Vegeta said. "And you're really strong."

At this, King Vegeta laughed. "No, son, it has nothing to do with strength."

Vegeta's mouth fell open. "Really?"

"No. It's not just strength. And it's not courage," King Vegeta said, and he now had a far-off look in his eyes. "I was the one to lead our race into battle, yes, but others were much fitter for the position than I was."

"Then why?" Vegeta asked.

King Vegeta smiled then. "I made sure that no one perished throughout the entire war. I protected them, Vegeta. I cared about each Saiyan and warrior so much that I made sure that no one was lost. That's why I'm their leader today."

Vegeta saw his father kneel down and place a hand on each of Vegeta's shoulders.

"And I want you to remember that when you take my place."

Vegeta blinked. Protection? To protect? Was that really why his father was king? It wasn't because of his strength and prowess in battle? Not because of his ingenuity and wit? "Really?"

"Yes, son," King Vegeta said, and Vegeta had never heard his father speak so vehemently before. "Never forget that."

Vegeta blinked, then began nodding. He would remember, and he would burn the word into his brain. Protection.

"Now, come on, son," King Vegeta said, getting up and quickening his step. "Let's get back before your mother finds out that you're awake and destroys us both."

Vegeta grinned. "Okay, Dad."

His father sighed. "She keeps saying that you need to sleep. I believe that five years old is certainly mature enough to extend your curfew by at least an hour. But don't tell her I said that."

Vegeta laughed and followed his father, a miniature version of King Vegeta's own cape billowing behind him as he ran.