Characters: Zarbon, Raditz main. Also King Vegeta, Dodoria and Nappa

Rating: PG

Warning: AU

Summary: The first meeting. It doesn't go well.

Notes: Starting fic.

Disclaimer: I own nothing in connection with Dragonball Z, nor do I make any money through writing this fanfiction.

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First Impression

The room King Vegeta used for carrying out his meetings in was large with high walls leading up to a domed ceiling. Large portraits of Vegetasei's past rulers lined the wall, all male and all with an expression of both authority and bloodlust. In the middle of the room was a long table with twenty chairs on each side, plus the ones at each end. As always, King Vegeta sat in the chair at the head of the table, which was noticeably larger and grander than all the others. Not wishing to shout their conversation across the room, Zarbon sat on one of the seats next to the king to read through the information given to him. From the corner of his vision he could see the two guards who had accompanied him and knew they were watching his every move. But that was something he had become perfectly used to. He kept them within his sight as well.

The papers he read through contained simple details. In particular, a name and description of the target, the co-ordinates of his last known location and what was wanted. The king wanted the target dead. Zarbon noted that the target was also a Saiyan and felt his curiosity rise slightly. He guessed it must be a runaway criminal, an exile or something else along those lines. There was supposedly a young child as well.

He finished reading through the information and looked back up at Vegeta. From the edge of his vision, he saw the guards come to attention.

"Just a locate and execute job, I take it? Simple enough."

King Vegeta nodded. His eyebrows were dipped down in a way which very much mirrored the various portraits and he too appeared to be watching Zarbon closely.

"The child as well?" Zarbon went on. "They weren't exaggerating when they spoke of how harsh you Saiyans can be."

"It is within the best interests of my kingdom."

"I'm sure," Zarbon replied quickly. He couldn't quite think of how killing one Saiyan and his child would be for the good of the whole kingdom. But he was certain that he had absolutely no interest in Saiyan politics. "But I do wish to raise the question of why you decided that my services were required in the first place?"

"I would have thought the reasons behind requiring your services were very obvious. Otherwise you would not be here."

"Oh no, I appreciate the business. But within moments of arriving on this planet I couldn't help but notice it was swarming with your guards and soldiers. And the one thing you Saiyans are known for more than your ruthlessness is your pride. So I can't help but wonder why you wouldn't send one of them instead."

"Because my soldiers have better things to do than run after and kill an exile."

Zarbon raised an eyebrow. "An exile who is apparently a threat to your kingdom if he continues to live."

Vegeta leaned forward, his eyes narrowed and focused. "I was under the impression that I would be paying you to kill whoever I pointed my finger at. Not run an interrogation."

Zarbon smiled as he met the challenge of Vegeta's gestures. "Back-watching is merely a requirement if you want to get far in my line of work. So, naturally, I happen to be very good at it."

Vegeta leaned back but didn't look convinced.

"It's not that I'm worried about it all ending in the horrible betrayal of our contract and my slaughter. None of you Saiyans are any match for me at all," Zarbon continued. "It's just it would be a shame if I had washed my hair on that day and it got singed."

"When I sign the contract you will have my word," Vegeta said.

Zarbon looked over to where the guards stood by the door. Their eyes met and the glares between them were hard. Zarbon looked them up and down, noting with amusement how their gazes followed his. Then he turned back and pulled another paper out of the small pile.

"Very well then," Zarbon said, picking up the pen which had been sitting beside the papers and scribbling his signature. "The next time you see me, both will be dead."

He pushed the paper and pen towards Vegeta but the king did not sign right away. "I assume you'll provide proof of that."

"Whatever you want."

"Their heads. Both of them."

"The usual then. Consider it done."

"Very well." Vegeta signed the contract and pushed it quickly back to Zarbon, who gathered it up along with the few other sheets of paper he had. All of them would be kept upon his possession at all times from now on. When business was completely finished, they would be burned with his own ki. The chances of Zarbon ever being caught were at the extreme minimum, but he kept the papers where he would be able to destroy them before anybody may realise he even had them.

"The only item of business we have left for now is a portion of the payment in advance," Zarbon said, inspecting Vegeta's signature as he did. When he looked up, the king's glare had become even harder. "I'm a man of my word as well, but a little incentive never hurt."

"How much?"

"Seventy-five percent minimum. And I'll take the rest when I've shown you the heads."

King Vegeta snapped his fingers and one of the guards left where he was standing by the door to come to the side of the large chair. Without a word or a glance at Zarbon, he reached inside his armour and drew out an envelope. After counting and extracting some notes from it, he handed the envelope to Vegeta. The king nodded and the guard returned to his temporary post. The envelope was handed to Zarbon, who opened it and counted the contents inside. He finished quickly, smiled, resealed the envelope and then folded his small pile of papers around it.

"Then I'll be back within a few days to swap the heads for the last twenty-five percent," Zarbon said, standing and sliding the folded papers into the inside pocket of his jacket. "After that you can do whatever you want with them. Mount them on a spike on top of the palace. Get your finest chef to cook it. Whatever you Saiyans do. I won't ask."

"My guards will escort you out," King Vegeta said, standing from his chair with his upper lip curled in displeasure.

"I can remember where the door-"

"They will escort you out," Vegeta repeated firmly and the two guards advanced forward. "While you are in my kingdom you shall obey my law."

"You're not my king and never will be, but very well," Zarbon said, watching with amusement the untrusting looks he received from the two guards. "Until next time then."

Vegeta's response was to grunt as Zarbon opened the door and left the meeting room as quickly as he could, leaving the guards to hurry behind him and make it look as though they were accompanying him out. Allowing himself a smile, Zarbon continued at his swift pace, listening to the hurried footsteps behind him. The smile dropped when he started to consider that Vegeta may suspect him of trying to steal something and that turned Zarbon's mood into something rather cynical. As though he would have to sink so low as to steal considering the money he charged for his services. Although, if a target turned out to have something particularly valuable upon their person and it hadn't been mentioned in his brief, Zarbon saw no problem in relieving them what whatever the object was. A dead target had absolutely no use for belongings, after all.

He strode through the hallways, the walls of which were dotted here and there with paintings, guards and other objects which, while probably valuable, Zarbon had no interest in. The footsteps of the guards were still behind him and Zarbon could feel himself getting closer and closer to turning on his heel and barking at them to go the hell away. But, he reconsidered, they probably feared their king a lot more than they feared him. So he kept going, swerving off into hallways used by the palace servants. They were smaller, just wide enough for two to pass as long as they weren't holding anything particularly large, and the walls were plain. Zarbon hadn't been allowed to enter the palace through the main entrance and had only found out when a guard blocked his way and insisted upon telling him that those were his orders. A quick verbal snap at King Vegeta later had confirmed for Zarbon that, yes, those had been his orders.

The servant hallways had many more corners to them as well, having to weave the long way around the palace to reach various destinations. Different hallways continued to branch off but Zarbon knew where he was going, so he was standing outside within moments. He looked behind him as the door shut and saw that the two guards had come to a stop. Zarbon was outside so their job was done.

Just as he started to step away, eager to get as far away from the Saiyan race as a whole as quickly as possible, he heard a voice coming from above him and stopped. It said:

"Well, well. Did the king start collecting concubines again?"

"What?" Zarbon spat as he whirled around and glared up towards the source of the voice. It was the most infuriating looking Saiyan he had ever seen. He was large and bulked with muscle, just like every other post-adolescent male Zarbon had seen on the planet. He wore Saiyan armour, again like many he had seen, and there was nothing striking about it. What Zarbon did find his eyesight drawn to was the Saiyan's hair. There was probably more of that than the Saiyan's entire body mass. It didn't look very well kept, messed and sticking out all over the place and Zarbon had no idea why anybody with standards of personal appearance like that had any right at all to smirk down at him.

"I've seen some of them pass by," the Saiyan continued. The doorway to the servant's entrance was shadowed by a tiny porch and the Saiyan was sat upon the roof of that, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded. His tail dangled over the roof, swinging back and forth. "You're by far the most interesting looking. But what's with leaving now? Didn't the king know you were a male? Is that why he sent you away? Or are you some freakish half and half? Come on, I'd like to know."

It was so horrifically tempting for Zarbon to just reach up and pull that swinging tail away from the body it was attached to. But he managed to remind himself that he was now under contract with the king of Saiyans, so now was not the best of times to go around mutilating his subjects. So instead he just clenched his fists, tightened his jaw and asked, "who do you think you're talking to?"

"You didn't hear me first time?" The Saiyan leaned forward and said, with his voice deliberately louder and slower; "Are. You. The. King's. Latest. Whore?"

For a second Zarbon couldn't see, blinded by his own intense fury. He had never been so insulted in his whole life. And he knew Jeice, dammit! When his vision came back, he was intensely disappointed to find the Saiyan still alive and well, continuing to sit on the small porch roof with his tail hanging over the edge, looking arrogantly pleased with himself. Images of all the things Zarbon would like to inflict upon the Saiyan quickly flashed through his mind's eye, each one becoming more satisfyingly violent. Instead of acting upon one of them, which he wanted so badly to do, he dug his fingernails into his palms, feeling the quick sting of discomfort as he sliced his own skin and drew blood. His jaw tightened, his teeth gritted and, while he did nothing to hide his angry expression, Zarbon said; "my business with your king isn't your concern at all. But it is nothing even vaguely linked to what you're suggesting. Understand?"

That would be considering this Saiyan had a brain and Zarbon felt he was being extremely generous by vaguely assuming so.

"Calling it secret business isn't exactly convincing, you know," the Saiyan remarked and Zarbon gave up any assumptions of him having even the slightest hint of anything which may somewhat resemble intellect. "What does something like you go for?"

"Even if I did have a price," which, of course, Zarbon did not, "there is absolutely no way, in any sort of life at all, you'd be able to even put a down payment on it!"

"Challenge, is that?"

Of course! It was all about who had the most chips in their armour as far as Saiyans were concerned. Upon deciding that enough was enough, Zarbon granted the Saiyan one last extremely icy glare and stormed away. As he swiftly left, he could still hear comments being aimed at him but didn't quite catch their exact content due to his anger making his ears ring.

Why had he even bothered stopping to look at the Saiyan, let alone open his mouth?

xxx

There was an entire long list of things Dodoria would rather be doing at that moment and the more he thought about it the longer it grew. Picking off his skin bit by bit with some small tweezers. Gouging a pen into his eyeballs. Seeing which poisons would do what exactly if inserted as suppository. Digging his ears out with a rusty fork. And so on. He was in his own home, which made it worse. And he was on the other side of the room from the door and the freedom which lay beyond it, which made it much worse.

What kept him from leaving was Zarbon, who was practically pacing a hole in the floor as he stalked from one end of the room to the other, then back again. As he built up his mental list, Dodoria kept a weary eye on Zarbon, particularly where his hands were. Zarbon was clearly in one of those bad moods where he was extremely liable to inflict severe pain upon anyone and throw anything his hands touched. But, so far, Zarbon's fists remained clenched by his sides with the knuckles pale. From what Dodoria had managed to get out, the business Zarbon had upon Vegetasei had gone well. But Zarbon still remained furious and it wasn't long at all until Dodoria heard all about why.

"It's bad enough their king has a rod shoved so far up his backside he's coughing splinters. But when I leave there's another one, sitting there on the roof looking like the worst hair day in the history of existence! And he has the nerve to keep making comments about me being some sort of whore!"

Dodoria had been there in the past to hear comments of that sort directed at Zarbon. So he found it rather amazing that the Saiyan was still alive.

"As soon as I'm done," Zarbon went on, "he had better still be sitting there. I'll rip off that stupid tail of his and thread it through his ears. Then I'll burn that stupid insulting rug of hair of his to ashes. Then I'll scatter them over the ground. Then I'll blow up the ground."

Zarbon stopped his ranting and slowed his pace to a halt a few seconds later. Now that he was silent the room seemed far too quiet. Dodoria was just mentally debating with himself on whether or not it was safe to try speaking when;

"How," Zarbon sighed, "did that race ever develop and maintain a working monarchy?"

"You're the one who took the job," Dodoria ventured. "You knew what the Saiyans would probably be like."

Zarbon gave him a glare which largely suggested this wasn't what he had wanted to hear.

"Why are you here twisting my ear about it?" Dodoria tried. "The sooner you go and do whatever job you've been given, the sooner the contract is finished, the sooner you never have to go back again."

There was another it-should-be-obvious look from Zarbon. "What's the point in having a sometimes-comrade if I can't come and bitch at you every now and again?"

"Every now and again?" Oh that was rich!

xxx

Guilt was something Zarbon had heard about. His basic understanding of such an emotion was being aware of wrongdoing and feeling shame concerning it. Zarbon himself only ever got as far as being aware of wrongdoing, or at least what many considered it to be. Making murder into a living wasn't exactly reputable or admired. But it was what Zarbon was good at and he would continue to do so until either he died or there was absolutely nobody left willing to hand over vast amounts of money for a dead body. He knew it would be the former.

As for feeling shame about it, that certainly didn't happen. As long as he completed the task he was given and received the agreed amount of money for it, that was fine with him.

The lack of guilt in any form whatsoever was also why Zarbon didn't mind killing a target should they have their back turned, were sick or asleep. The latter was the state the current target was in when Zarbon found him, on the small planet King Vegeta had named and handed over the co-ordinates to. As well as a small planet, it was a barren one. The vegetation was minimal, the air was cold and so far the only other signs of life Zarbon had seen where small creatures living in the cracks in the rocks and under the dust upon the ground. It was just the sort of place one might expect an exile to be sent.

Paragus. That was the exiles name and he was found in one of the caves which time and the elements had worn into the mountains. Zarbon didn't know the exact details of the exile but guessed it was probably something to do with severely displeasing the king. Such was often the reason. His back was to Zarbon when silently approached and when he didn't react it was supposed he was either asleep for waiting for an opportunity to attack. Sometimes they anticipated him coming and would try to catch him off guard, only to always fail miserably. But Zarbon doubted this was one of those cases. Paragus was sleeping and there was the baby curled up by his side.

Sometimes Zarbon enjoyed toying with a target. If they were asleep, sometimes they were woken up. Then Zarbon would amuse himself for a while, breaking fingers, twisting ears off, beating internal organs into dysfunction, and so on. If the client wanted a part of the target brought back, (it was often the head), it was left untouched. Otherwise, everything was fair game.

This would not be one of those times. Zarbon was keen to get things over and done with as soon as possible.

One ki blast carefully aimed from the palm of Zarbon's hand and through the target's chest, incinerating the heart, and it was done. The baby began to stir but never woke. Zarbon pointed his index finger towards it, curling the rest into his palm, and the baby's heart was also destroyed.

xxx

King Vegeta heard a commotion outside, which sounded as though it was getting nearer and nearer.

"King Vegeta will not see you!" a voice shouted.

"He will!" Retorted another.

"If you dare even touch those doors-"

"You'll do what? Why do you Saiyans continue to insist you're any sort of match for me?"

And then the doors burst open. The guards stood by them moved to try and force them shut again, but were knocked back. A furious Zarbon stood in the doorway. More guards were behind him, looking tense and alert but lingering back.

"I'm collecting my debt now, Vegeta," he said, advancing into the room, ignoring the protests of those around the table, focusing only upon the king at the head of it, as usual. "We both know you can pay it."

"I am in the middle of important business," Vegeta said. Since the commotion had started, he hadn't turned his head and still looked directly ahead of him.

"And you may resume as soon as ours is completed."

"You will leave now."

"What is it with you Saiyans and your damn superiority complex? I know you have the means of completing my payment. What has me stumped is why you refuse to hand it over. But I am not leaving this planet until you do."

Vegeta turned to look at Zarbon, absolutely furious, and as he stood he almost knocked over his chair. It was only the weight of the thing which prevented it from clattering to the floor. "You absolutely will not."

"You'll find I shall."

"I absolutely forbid it!" King Vegeta thundered.

"You will never be my superior, Vegeta. I will die before ever bowing to a Saiyan," said Zarbon. "I've completed my end of the deal, so I'll wait for you to complete yours. You can send one of your lackeys to find me when you decide to finish my payment."

Vegeta growled. "And where do you think you're going to squat while you're waiting?"

"Every being has a price and that includes you Saiyans," Zarbon replied. "I'll easily be able to meet most of them. You know how to get me off your planet, Vegeta. Come and find me when you come to your senses."

Zarbon left, tossing his head to throw his braid from where it had fallen over his shoulder to down his back as he did. The guards who had tried to prevent Zarbon entering the room watched him go, unsure whether or now they should go after him. They looked towards their king for orders, only to find him with gritted teeth and eyes practically smouldering with rage. Upon seeing such a thing, the guards stepped back.

xxx

Nappa wasn't quite sure why he spent those rare and quick pieces of free time sat in the shade on the roof of the palace, next to the small porch roof where Raditz would sit and often harass anybody who came out. It was probably something to do with Raditz being an old training partner and comrade in battles when he had been younger, despite some things changing. Things like Nappa's strength rocketing which allowed him to become a royal guard and Raditz being left in the shadows in comparison, no matter how hard he tried to catch up. While King Vegeta was in his meeting and the prince had been ordered to his studies, (as far as Nappa could recall, they were on the fifth frustrated tutor), he wasn't needed. On the bright side, he got to rest like this.

There was a sudden vibration underneath him as the servant's door was opened and then slammed shut again. Nappa only just had time to look down and see that guy King Vegeta had ordered to him, (the hell was his name? Ah, who cared?), take off into the air and fly quickly away.

"Ah, he came back," Raditz said, watching the fading ki trail vanish into the distance.

"What?" Nappa blinked, looking to Raditz, who was sat a few inches below him. "You've met that guy?"

"Saw him come out of that door before," Raditz replied. "Hey, you know a bit more about the palace than me. What's he around for? Some sort of concubine or whore? Guy looking like that could easily be one."

"I don't know what he's on this planet for, but I wouldn't have thought it was for anything like that? The hell did you say to him? I've heard some of the servants are thinking of banding together and complaining about you, you know."

Raditz shrugged. "All I did was ask what a guy like him was doing around here and put in my own offer."

"I'll bet he told you to fuck off."

Raditz grinned and the tip of his tail twitched. "He's just playing hard to get."

END