I don't own DBZ and am making nadda from this. Lyrics aren't mine either. Just to clarify, (even though this is semi-inconsistent) brackets thoughts, and --- (text) --- indicates flashback.

"And with a broken wing, She still sings, She keeps an eye on the sky, With a broken wing, She carries her dreams, Man, you oughta see her fly..." -Martina McBride, "Broken Wing"

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In the dim light that the spaceship provided, Raditz sat back, studying Vegeta carefully. This boy who he had become a semi-mentor to baffled him beyond all reason. Everything was tipsy, from the way he struggled to hold onto his childhood when it was a thing he should have left behind long ago to the unnerving knack for survival under the harshest conditions. And to be honest, he had a healthy amount of fear for Vegeta. The Saiya-jin prince's power level was strong as he was bullheaded, and Raditz was sure it would increase in years to come.

Vegeta stood alone, squinting in the light of a harsh, alien sun. It's rays penetrated the window he gazed out of, and its sheer size alone managed to put him in a state of awe.

It looks so...large, he mused. Too large, in fact, for a planet of that size.

He stared down at the planet itself, at the surface comprised mostly of dark red, just a hint of violet exposing itself. His first mission. A young Saiya-jin heading off to his first battle. A juvenile bird of prey descending on its first kill.

The warrior in him rejoiced, the frightened little boy cringed, hoping it would all be over soon.

Vegeta brushed away any hints of fear left over. He refused to show any signs of it, not now, not after years of training, years of carefully disciplining his mind and body, years of mastering the art of keeping his face devoid of anything but hostility.

Years spent in agony.

He felt his stomach lurch as the ship began a gentle downwards path towards the planet beneath.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dodoria turned at the sound of Zarbon's voice from somewhere further down the hallway. He squinted, annoyed. "What is it this time?"

Zarbon smirked, indulging himself and not bothering to reply until he had very slowly, very agonizingly reached his comrade. Dodoria ground his teeth; Zarbon had the ability to find small ways to annoy people out of their minds. Dodoria was no exception to the rule.

"Well? Come on, Zarbon. Out with it, because if you're not talking, I'm leaving."

The smirk left Zarbon's face, and he gave an expasperated sigh. "Lord Frieza would like to see you. It's about the spaceship."

Dodoria blanched at the words, recalling his mistake, how he'd replaced the wrong piece of machinery then neglected to correct his error out of sheer laziness. He had a rather "pleasant" image of Frieza ordering his punishment, and even more "pleasant" image of his punishment being carried out playing through his thoughts.

Zarbon's smirk had returned, and Dodoria's suspicions were aroused. His fairweather "friend" had something in mind.

Let me guess. The next word that follows is "however."

"However..."

See?

Shut up.

I really have to stop talking to myself. It's probably not healthy.

"However..."

Does he have to repeat himself?

"...I've got a little piece of information that just might get you on his Lordship's good side." Pause. "For a price."

Dodoria resiested the urge to fling himself onto the floor and grovel shamelessly. Instead, he settled for a calm, "All right."

"You remember the various bits of medical equipment that went "missing" a few years back?"

Dodoria rolled his eyes. How could he inot/i remember? Frieza had been in an uproar about the incident, and it hadn't been because of missing equipment alone. An older female and important asset to Frieza's forces had been seriously injured under high-stress circumstances, preventing her from relaying much-needed orders to the ground troops below, locked in a battle with a race that the tyrant had underestimated.

A young novice in Freiza's forces had noted the missing medical equipment, and had not bothered to report it. Frieza's commander had died, taking with her the vital information that drew the line between victory and defeat. The results were catastrophic on Frieza's part, and he'd withdrawn his troops in utter humiliation. The novice had been executed for it, and now, years after, it was common knowledge that he'd gladly kill whoever was responsible for the lack of the much-needed medical supplies, should he get the chance to.

"Of course I remember," Dodoria snapped ill-temperdly. "Now spit it out."

"I have information. There's a thief behind that fiasco, and I know who it is."

"What's the price?"

Zarbon stopped, bit his lip. "The...ah...the concubine you were given...could I..." he trailed off, and Dodoria saw the faintest hint of a blush color his cheeks, which struck him as rather odd; wether it was women or money, Zarbon was usually quite brazen in the asking. Dodoria kept his face carefully expresionless, and nodded. "Yes, yes, she's all yours," he said hastily. "Now tell me."

"Reita. Servant's quarters."

Dodoria watched Zarbon retreat, then gave a slight laugh.

Fool. I would have given you the concubine for nothing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Vegeta glanced at the rubble below, heart pounding in his chest, realizing just what kind of power he had over these weaklings. He didn't see them, didn't see their frightened eyes, didn't hear their pleas for mercy. All he saw were many feet, racing frantically for cover, all he heard were cries and the general music that was destruction.

Nappa shot a sideways glance at Vegeta, then grinned, wicked delight pasted over his features. The Saiya-jin prince had become an animal during the course of slaughter, a wild animal, a killing machine. He was everything the warriors of old stood for, from the glint of untamed, unabridged savegry in his eyes, to ruthless way in which he conducted himself.

Nappa had to admit, there was a line between plain cruel and ruthless. Vegeta was the gray area inbetween, the zone in which the two elements crossed and became one.

The smoke, the rubble, the wild-eyed survivors of chaos; it was just the beginning. The trio of Saiya-jins had just scratched the surface; a planet wasn't exactly something you could conquer in just under an hour, Nappa thought, the thought steeped in the arcane.

Vegeta hovered several feet of the ground, gazing down at the madness he'd caused. At the power he held. And in that moment of time, he knew.

He had on of two choices: live in fear of his own power, or become one with it.

The latter sounded much more appealing.

Something moved to his left, and he sent a beam of raidance flaring in that general direction, satisfied when he heard a shriek of terror, then nothing at all.

Absently, he watched as the large structure he had hit in the process crumpled into nothing but the debris of yesteryear.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Reita spit out a number of curse-words, mixing three languages and turning the heads of several of her fellow servants. Was it really her fault if she had no cooking skills whatsoever?

It's days like this I wish I'd been put into hard labor in the mines,/i she though, rattling off another string of mental complaints. (AN spinoff of Krillin's "shoe salesman" wish. lol)

The half breed glanced down at the smoking, overflowing pot of burnt food before her and sighed. Sitting there giving the thing her infamous Death Looks wasn't going to get it cleaned up, she realized with a groan. Grasping the handles with both hands, she yelped and jumped back, realizing far too late how hot the object was. The pot and its contents went flying, landing in a messy heap on the ground.

Kind of resembled Vegeta after his first introduction to Frieza,/i she thought wryly, knowing the jibe was insenitive and finding amusement in it all the same.

"My. Aren't we clumsy today, Reita?"

Reita jerked, startled, then glanced up. Her eyes were met by an oily smile, a slick, sarcastic grin. She grimaced.

Aelen, one of Frieza's underlings. They didn't speak much, but she'd taken a serious disliking towards him and his arrogant ways, and even now fought back the urge to thumb her nose at him, knowing the gesture was both childish and futile.

And would most likely get me into trouble, she mused.

"You're already in trouble, little one," he said, and she narrowed her eyes, knowing he was taking advantage of his mind-reading ability, and of her. Aelen reached down, offering his hand. Reita stared coldly, and he wasted no time in grasping her arm and yanking her into a standing position, delivering a quick slap to one of her cheeks, then thrusting her out the doorway.

She fought him violently as they went, out of sheer rage, and he struggled to restrain her. Aynk leaned against the frame of the door, watching impassively.

"She's had it coming for a long time," the older servant remarked to nobody in particular. "Not sure what it was, but you can stake your life on it: we won't be seeing much of her anymore."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She ran, a young mother, infant clutched to her chest. Leaving behind the ruins of the structure she'd once called home, hoping to leave behind Frieza's mercenaries. Doubt bore a hole into her mind; was there any escaping the tyrant's cruelty at all?

She doubted it.

Panting hard, the female scrambled wildly, tripping over a piece of debris, going down hard and staying down. The babe in her arms refused to shut up, the cries seeming to grow louder and louder as time passed.

Peering over the fallen pillar that shielded them, the mother gave a huge, rattling sigh. It would be a flat-out run from here to next shelter.

Where do you think you're going? she wondered. She could choose any place in the world to hide, and was ten hundred percent certain that she'd still be killed, her child destroyed with her.

If that's the case, I guess this is the part where I fight to the death,/i she decided, mouth set in a thin, stubborn line. After several seconds longer, she rose, launched herself forwards, shrieked as the Saiya-jin prince appeared out of nowhere and sent her reeling into darkness.

Vegeta watched both mother and child vanish into a soft swirl of black smoke, staining the air.

Just like time. It stains everything, no matter how innocently it does so.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Reita's struggles increased as power shifted, and she was handed over to one of the guards standing in the hallway. The man leered at her and slipped Aelen several coins; his pay.

Bastard,Reita fumed.

The guard hustled her further down the hallway, and her eyes widened in horror when he took a left, and the illumination began to fade. Horror, because there was only one place he could be going:

Below.

The prisons.

The prisons were dark, dank places. Bad things happened to you.to iwomen/i when they were down there. Torture instruments were commonplace. Only the strong survived.

No, her mind shrieked. iOnly the ultra, ultra, super strong survive! What did I do? What the hell did I do?

Down a flight of insanely primitive looking steps. Her imagination was already painting wild pictures of the terrible death she would most likely suffer. Reita was surprised when the guard whisked her into a separate cell...no, more of a room. The whirl of darkness and noise faded behind her, and he flicked a light switch on.

"Is this her?"

Reita jumped at the voice and turned to view the speaker. She was surprised at what she saw.

"This is her, Roku. All yours," the guard smiled.

Roku...

...was an effeminate looking man. Tanned skin was offset by dark locks of hair, and he posessed a pair of even darker, deep-set eyes. Such sorrowful eyes. Reita would never have thought a man such as this would be capable of inflicting any harm whatsoever.

She was wrong.

No information needed to be extracted from Reita. Frieza was convinced she was behind the petty incident that had lead to his utmost humiliation. The sentence was death, but he would make her suffer before that.

And Roku was the best he had./p

Some said the man was half-insane. A born sadist complete with a mind distorted beyond belief. Very, very inventive when it came to devising various ways of causing people to suffer.

Very, very inventive.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Vegeta's fist hit the table, and Zarbon tensed visibly.

"Where is she?"

"Maybe you should take that up with Lord Frieza, ne?"

The Saiya-jin prince growled. He knew how far he could push one of the Ice- jin's underlings, and he'd just stretched the limit quite a bit.

"Maybe I will," he snapped. Zarbon gave a cold laugh.

"Not a chance. You're too scared."

Furious, Vegeta exited Zarbon's chambers. The emotional high he'd been on during the massacre had followed him all the way home, and the unfolding events hadn't done anything to quell it. Nappa met him midway.

"Prince Vegeta. Did he tell you anything?"

Vegeta shook his head. "Damn baka wouldn't say a word."

"Wonderful," Raditz mused. "We turn our back for a few days, and everything changes. Reita's gone. Saiya-jin quarters have been moved. New regulations and rules. Zarbon's become stuffier than ever. And," he hesitated. "The cook's been replaced. Cold's lost his mind; the food tastes like..."

Vegeta wasn't listening. His mind was elsewhere, the same sixth sense he'd had as a boy screaming at him.

---Reita wasn't offering him pity. And he was glad for it; pity twisted his insides like nothing he'd ever felt before. Instead, she sat and looked with pride upon the Saiya-jin prince after every beating he'd managed to survive, after every mind-game Frieza played from which he'd come out not the victor, but still sane.---

Vegeta blinked. Something was wrong.

---A young Vegeta woke up. It was dark-/p

And Reita had fallen asleep beside him. His first instinct was to push her straight off the bed, but he lingered for a few moments. The warmth of her was comforting. She didn't need to speak at all. Not a word.---

Vegeta grimaced. Was she taking the place of his mother?

His mother.

Kita. He hadn't heard anything of her. Frieza enjoyed keeping him in the dark guessing.

---"...Damn Ice-jin."

Reita's smile was benign. "Hmmm. Why don't we sit here and hate him together?"

Vegeta didn't show it, but the little bit of humor was appreciated.---

Nappa and Raditz were now arguing heatedly. Vegeta heard none of it.

---Reclining on the couch and listening to the splatter of hail on the roof, high above all four of them. Raditz and Reita were very heatedly discussing something, and it amused Vegeta to see that their tempers were flaring. He enjoyed their company, enjoyed being here in unity----

"Vegeta." Raditz' voice was hoarse. The prince looked up, glaring.

"What?"

"Vegeta," Raditz repeated.

"Raditz," Vegeta said impatiently. "I just survived my first mission. I think I'm fully capable of remembering my own name."

"No," Raditz choked, "look."

"We found her," Nappa said grimly.

Vegeta was speechless.

He wasn't sure what to say or do. Habit told him to make fun of the situation. Instinct told him this was dead serious.

Reita looked like hell. There were no other words to describe her appearance. Her face was battered and a sickly pallor; blood stained areas of clothing that looked like they'd been thrown on. The man standing behind her was the only thing keeping Reita upright.

"Vegeta," she managed, and her eyes were terror personified. They glinted under a brazen light, pleading with him to do something.

She helped you, the situation screamed.

pThe Saiya-jin prince grimaced at the scent of blood. And helplessness.

She took you in,the prince's mind gibbered. When even Nappa and Raditz denied you access to all that is Saiya-jin, she didn't, he quailed. You'd be completely destroyed if not for her.

Raditz watched her vanish.

It clicked.

"The medical supplies," he stated harshly. "They found out."

"Do you mean to tell me," Vegeta inquired, furious, "that she's going to be sentanced to death because she stold medical supplies?"

---For me?---

Nappa shrugged helplessly. "Maybe it's bigger than we thought," he suggested.

"Don't be absurd," Vegeta snapped instinctively.

"I'm not," Nappa mumbled after his retreating prince.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tequila tossed the apple core to the side, watching it hit the carpet. Too lazy to go pick it up, she leaned back, stretched, then turned an intense gaze upon Trunks. "Know you can't hear me, kid," Tequila stated ironically, "but just for your information: this is a major turning point."

No response.

"Reita had always been a fiesty little girl. Born in a low station on life's ladder, she wanted to badly to see the world. She still held out a bit of hope, even as a servant. And she's the reason your father closes up so much, folds in on himself."

No response.

Oh, yeah, I know you're seeing it. Reita was slaughtered. All over a bunch of medical supplies." Her mouth twisted to one side, seeing the morbid humor in that. "A huge blow for Vegeta. He still held out hope of seeing his parents, his native land once more, but that would soon be crushed. Maybe on instinct, he began shunning the company of people in general. Nappa and Raditz lost their significance. They became tools, assets that would help him achieve the goal he sought: ultimate power."

Tequila's words echoed in the silent room.