Silver Linings of a Distant Sky:
The Wish That Changed it All

~ Chapter Seven ~
~ Part Two ~

After reliving the memory of his bonding ceremony with Bulma, Vegeta found himself watching another memory dating back even further than before...

Vegeta stood outside the Temple of Mount Lechuga, looking down upon the capital of Verdur. The city was a flurry of activity. As it should be with the prince's sudden and unannounced return from his enlistment in Frieza's army. News of his return had spread quickly and the citizens were using the occasion to eat, drink, and be rowdy. Vegeta absorbed the view from his vantage point. The planet itself had changed little during the past ten cycles. But the smaller things, like the people and the city, had changed considerably during his absence.

The city had grown greatly in size since he had last seen it. Not only had it expanded outwards but it had also expanded upwards. With the increasing population, many more spiraling towers had been erected to house the growing numbers. Training facilities and food markets had tripled in size and number. Additional medical facilities had sprung up. A new interstellar launch site had been built. Crowded out by the expanding city, the royal residence had been relocated and rebuilt on a bluff outside the city limits. His new home was alien to him.

His father and brother had also changed during his absence. His father, though still very fit, was showing signs that he was passing his prime. His hair and goatee were specked with flecks of gray. A few faint wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes. The king had grown more relaxed over the cycles. Old age and the stress from running a planet had taken its toll. But his brother! The seven-cycles-old boy Vegeta had left behind was now nearly a man grown! Tarble was still small in stature, but he'd likely not reached his third growth spurt yet. The younger prince was still just as naïve and cheerful as Vegeta had remembered him, but now there was a lot more strength behind his never-ending enthusiasm.

King Vegeta and Tarble had greeted Vegeta as he exited one of Frieza's ships with Nappa and Raditz in tow. The older prince had expected the presence of Nappa's sons, assuming that they would welcome their father home. But they were absent. They were not the only ones who were not in attendance, noted the arriving prince.

The king and Tarble had been alerted to Vegeta's eminent arrival mere hours before he made planet fall. Fortunately, the arcosian prince and his underlings had not accompanied the saiyans on their voyage home. The ship itself had departed as soon as it had refueled.

"Brother! I have missed you!" Tarble beamed happily and, out of a habit from his childhood, ran to give his brother a hug. Vegeta blocked the gesture of affection with a stiff arm. Tarble was immediately confused by his brother's rejection. "Vegeta, what is wrong? Are you not happy to be home?"

The elder prince sneered at the behavior of his unusual brother. "We are no longer children, Tarble. It does not suit you to still behave as one."

The seventeen-cycles-old was visibly hurt. The brothers had been very close when they were children. The last thing he had expected from his brother was to be met with this cold, emotionless man. Vegeta passed by his silent and shocked brother to greet his father. He could hear Raditz and Nappa speak quiet words in greeting to the younger prince.

"Father," the saiyan heir replied with a quick nod. After ten long cycles under Frieza's 'care,' the prince couldn't prevent the feelings of anger and resentment he had for his father from rising up. It had been the king who had agreed to allow Frieza to foster the elder prince. However, Vegeta also recognized that his father had had little choice. And so, he squashed the negative emotions as best as he could.

"Son," the king returned. "I trust you have grown stronger during your service in the arcosian army. I am eager to see what new skills and techniques you have learned during your enlistment."

The elder prince grinned with a small amount of wicked glee. "I shall not disappoint you, father."

The king did a quick one-eighty, his cape swirling as he did so. "Come. There is much to discuss. A feast awaits us at our new royal living quarters. I shall catch you up with the matters of state as we dine."

When they arrived at the new estate, his father had given him the tour of the residence. But Prince Vegeta did not feel at home there. Gone were all the reminders of his childhood. His aunt Aleguu, uncle Zukiin, and cousin Lele had joined the king and the princes for their meal, but Prince Vegeta barely ate. The king had prattled on about the affairs of the state, but the first heir barely registered what was said. Tarble, still bothered by Vegeta's cold countenance, had eventually returned to his more cheerful self with Lele's persistence. After their meal had finished, Aleguu had shown Vegeta to his new suite. It was not long afterwards that the prince had fled the residence and gone to the one place that hadn't changed since his departure; the Temple of Mount Lechuga.

Vegeta clenched his fists as he stared down upon the city. Of all the things that had changed during his absence, he himself had changed the most. He was a stranger to his own world. Certainly, his people still worshiped him and held nothing but admiration for his strength and power. But this world was no longer the same to him. Everything that he remembered about his home-world was either gone or changed beyond recognition. And soon, they would learn that he had changed to them.

The last ten cycles of his life had been worse than hell. He often wondered how he had survived the physical and psychological trauma that Frieza had put him through. He couldn't count the number of times that he had been pushed beyond his limits only to be reeled back in to repeat it all over again. Frieza had somehow discovered what things would affect Vegeta the most. He had created a crack in Vegeta's defenses, chipped away at his courage, and tormented the saiyan with all of his weaknesses and fears.

Vegeta had learned quickly how to strip himself of such things in order to survive Frieza's brand of conditioning. The first weakness to go was his reliance upon Nappa and Raditz. The former had once been King Vegeta's right-hand man and a mighty general in the saiyan army. He had been one of the prince's personal trainers. And under Frieza's command, he had become Vegeta's bodyguard. Raditz, on the other hand, had been a ward of the House Vegetus during his youth. Although a few cycles older than Vegeta, Raditz had become like an adopted brother to the prince. Raditz, not having much of a relationship with his true family, had grown fiercely loyal to the royal family and had volunteered to accompany the prince during his service under Frieza.

In both cases, Vegeta had become very attached to his squad-mates. And Frieza quickly learned of this vulnerability. The arcosian lord would often force Vegeta to beat his fellow saiyans until they passed out. If Vegeta refused, Frieza would take the pleasure of performing the beatings, and he was far less gentle than the saiyan prince. Vegeta had to emotionally close himself off from the other two saiyans, extinguish his attachment to them. When threats and harm to them no longer had the desired effect, Frieza had moved onto other tortures.

The safety of Vegeta's family was often threatened. The ice lord found extreme delight in taunting the saiyan prince with morbid details of what he could do to the naïve Tarble and innocent Lele. Again, Vegeta had to harden himself against that weakness. His home-world, too, had come into the cross hairs many times. Frieza flat out told Vegeta that the fate of his planet was in his hands. He had asked the prince on many occasions if he'd like to know what it would be like to the prince of an extinct people.

The prince found that he couldn't make friends with fellow soldiers. Not only could their friendship become a liability, but they'd just as likely betray him to save their own hides. As he grew into adulthood, he learned that women were off limits as well. They'd either use him for their own purposes or they'd be used against him. Frieza had even used Vegeta's own body as a weapon against him. At times, the arcosian would put him through the worst pain, bringing him to near death in his beatings, or starving him until he was severely malnourished. At other times, Frieza would elicit the strongest desires from Vegeta against his will, only to rob him of his satisfaction, leaving him shamefully yearning for more.

The only way to survive Frieza's tortures was to harden his heart, his mind, and his body against everything in the universe. He learned that being rebellious was futile, only served to amuse the arcosian and give him an excuse to deliver punishments. Vegeta grew cold to all sources of stimuli. He could feel himself growing psychologically unstable. Apathetic to the lives of others. Detached. Isolated. Eventually, Vegeta had come to a point where he could ruthlessly and systematically purge planet after planet without feeling a shred of guilt, regret, or remorse. The only thing that kept him going was the desire to grow stronger so that one day he could kill the arcosian bastard with his own two hands.

Vegeta was suddenly brought back to the present when he was thrust slightly forward by an unexpected force upon his back. He had gotten so lost in thought that he hadn't sensed the ki ball that had struck him, nor the individual who had launched it at him. It hadn't been a very powerful attack, wasn't meant to hurt him. It had felt like nothing more than a gentle push on his back, just enough to grab his attention. Still, he was angry that he had let his guard down. He spun around to confront the saiyan who had dared insult him by successfully striking him with such a weak attack.

But there was no one there! Before he could figure out what was going on, the prince heard a feminine giggle from behind him. He spun again, gritting his teeth in anger. He would not be mocked! He flexed his ki sense. He couldn't feel the offender even though he could still hear her giggling in amusement at his predicament. The perpetrator had either reduced her ki to near nothing or she had no ki at all. He spun again when she giggled again.

And he was met with a gloved fist to his face.

Vegeta's head snapped back only slightly. The attack hadn't been strong enough to hurt him, only enough to infuriate him. Reflexively, he struck out with a right hook of his own, catching his assailant across the jaw. The impact had had a much greater effect on her than her attack had had on him. Her head whipped to the right as his fist connected with the left side of her face. She stumbled back, but only a step, which said a lot of her since he had put a lot of strength into the punch.

She clenched at her face and slowly turned her hood-covered head back towards him. His eyes met those of azure. She wiped the streak of blood from her lip with the back of her glove, smearing crimson across her chin. An impressed smirk dashed across her lips, her eyes danced with amusement. She pulled the navy colored hood down from over her head to reveal locks of blue. His eyes widened fractionally when he realized her identity.

"Good form," she finally spoke, complimenting his attack. Her voice was a deep and alluring melody.

"Bulma," he spoke her nickname in greeting. And then his mouth went dry as he found he couldn't think of a single thing to say to her. What does one say to a long lost comrade after ten long cycles of separation? Asking how she had been or what she had been doing seemed like an insincere and cliché greeting.

Vegeta couldn't help but find himself studying her. She, too, had changed a lot since the last time he had seen her. Bulma was no longer the prepubescent woman-child he had left behind. She had been taller than him in their youth, but now she was the shorter of the two, he noticed to his delight. When last he saw her, she had started her second growth spurt and was nearly two inches taller than him. But now the opposite was true. The prince noticed how her muscles were sleek, well-defined, yet feminine. She had curved out in all the right places. Beneath her cloak, her battle armor fit her snugly, accentuating her lithe form and exposing just the right amount of her healthy and tan skin. But her blue hair had remained the same after all these years; soft blue spikes cascading down her back.

Bulma's smirk grew as she watched him take her in. Shamelessly, she drank in his features as well. He took pride in himself, happy that she would find an interest in him. He wondered what she was thinking at that moment. Did she find him attractive? Did she find his new stature appealing? Did she approve of what she saw?

"Has your hairline receded?" was the observation she voiced first.

His curiosity soured into contempt. Of course the first thing she would do was mock him! She might have physically matured into a woman but she still behaved like a child! Why had he suddenly cared what she thought of him!? This was Bulma! The same temperamental little loudmouth from his youth! Her approval was inconsequential.

Of course, his reaction to her was no better.

"Better to have acquired a receding hairline than to have grown fat!" he slung at her as he gesticulated towards her full chest and curvy waistline. "It is no wonder you are without ki. You have grown lazy over the cycles."

"Ha!" she barked at his rebuttal, placing her fists on her hips. "If only you knew the half of it!"

"Enlighten me," the prince replied coolly with a cocky grin on his face.

"With pleasure," she purred. She removed a white glove from her left hand. Around her wrist was a metallic band. At first glance, it seemed to be an insignificant silver trinket, but it was more than that. It was a miniature computerized device, he realized. She keyed in a few buttons, entering a short command sequence into the device. When she finished, she looked back up at him with smug smirk on her face. And all of a sudden, as if a switch had been flipped, the presence of her ki slammed into him. He hadn't expected to go from feeling absolutely nothing to experiencing the surge of such a strong power! His grin immediately fell from his face.

"Explain yourself," Vegeta demanded. "What is that instrument you wear?"

"Oh, this little thing?" Bulma asked with feigned naivety. "It is simply a little toy of mine. It masks the ki of the wearer from both scouters and innate ki-sensing abilities. It is the only one of its kind. I designed it a few cycles ago," she boasted in a calm and quiet tone.

The prince was intrigued. Impressed. Interested in what else the little vixen had been up to over the past ten cycles. But he hid these emotions from revealing themselves, as he had conditioned himself to do under Frieza's care. Too soon, he found the conversation turn back towards him once again.

As Bulma worked her glove back onto her left hand, she nonchalantly asked, "So what has lured you up here to the Temple? You appeared to be brooding when I first came upon you."

Her question, though innocent, had unintentionally reminded him of what he had been thinking about prior to her arrival. The thoughts of Frieza curdled his mood. He sneered as he walked away from her and the temple behind them.

"It is none of your concern," the prince snapped coldly, hopefully ending their conversation. He could tell that his curt response angered her as evidenced by her brown tail snapping in irritation. He knew that closing himself off to her would greatly displease her. As children, they had been very open and honest with one another. In their youths, they had studied together and had been sparring partners. They had spent much of their time together during their preteen years. She hadn't expected him to shut her out so unconditionally upon their reunion.

"What is the matter with you?" Bulma snapped. "Why are you behaving this way?"

He turned on her with a snarl. "Behaving what way?"

"You are behaving so... so... callously!"

"Callously?" he sneered as he closed the distance between them with malice. "You think I am behaving callously?"

The blue-haired saiyan stood her ground as he came nose to nose with her. She matched his glare with one of her own. "Yes. You are being callous. This is not how I knew you."

Vegeta gritted his teeth. "No. I am not how you knew me. This is how am I now. This is how Frieza made me. This is how I've learned to survive."

She huffed at him, shaking her head in disbelief. "So this is the new way of it then? Despite our friendship, you have chosen to no longer trust me?"

"I have chosen to no longer trust anyone," he corrected.

Bulma turned away from him with a sad and hollow chuckle. "I see. I should not have come here. Bardock advised me against seeking you out. He Saw that it would not end well."

This new bit of information roused his curiosity. Subduing his anger, he asked in a tone that disguised his interest, "Bardock... the Seer? Formerly of House Astirakis? You are still under his guardianship?"

"If you could call it that," she softly mused. "In many ways, it feels as if he were under my guardianship."

"How is his condition?"

A wry smirk echoed on her lips. "It has continued to improve, but it is not yet cured. The medications have helped. He no longer allows what he Sees to control his actions. Although... There is one vision he remains adamantly obsessed with..."

"The Destruction Prophecy?"

Bulma gave a single nod. The Destruction Prophecy was well known amongst the royal family and many of the elites. Bardock was absoultely convinced that one day planet Vegeta would come to an end. But everyone who knew of this claim had written it off as the insane and incoherent ramblings of a soldier who was suffering with bouts of post traumatic stress after the loss of his entire squad, including his bonded one.

"Despite having been proven false, he still believes it to be true?" he inquired.

"Yes." There was a long and silent pause after her confirmation. Finally, she spoke, effectively changing the subject and ending their conversation. "I must be going. I fear leaving him alone to his own devices for too long." She elevated into the air, then paused. Calling over her shoulder, she said, "If ever you feel the need to escape your duties, even for a small while, you are always welcome to come visit my estate. I trust you remember where to find it. I am certain you may find something there to your liking."

And then she was gone.

Earlier memories flitted through Vegeta's mind. Years and years worth of anguish and nightmares filled his thoughts as he relived his service under Frieza. He tried to push past them, not wishing to dwell on any one of them. He was not free of the memories, of course. A few managed to assert themselves to the forefront of his thoughts...

The saiyan prince found himself on a nearly destroyed world. The planet's fighters had been obliterated. The remaining population was unwilling to fight. They had fled from the destruction, gone into hiding. Their attempts were in vain. For theirs was a primitive world, their citizens lacked the ability suppress their ki. When they ran, they fled en masse, making it all the easier to find them. There was no where on their planet that they could hide from the prince of all saiyans.

He followed a large group at his leisure, allowed them to join up with dozens more in one of the few villages still standing. They always felt that they would find safety in numbers. They were always wrong. They only succeeded in making the purge easier for him.

Vegeta entered the village. It was nothing more than an intersection of two cobble stoned lanes for pedestrian traffic. Housing and shops constructed of wood and stone lined each side of the two perpendicular roads. He could sense the natives hiding within these buildings, hoping that the alien man wasn't aware of their presence. As he calmly walked down the center of the street, he performed a ki scan of the area. There were a few hundred here – one of the largest remaining pockets of civilians. And not a one of them having the ki of a worthy opponent. These were all women and children, the elderly and the crippled. He stopped when he reached the center of the villiage.

In that moment, Vegeta remembered an old saiyan proverb taught to him by his father many cycles ago. 'Victory over an opponent too weak to defend oneself is no true victory. Such a victory merits great shame whereas a defeat against a worthy adversary does not.' He was at war with himself. The prince knew in his heart that there would be no honor eliminating these people. But what could he do about it? Frieza had ordered the purging of this planet. Vegeta squashed the seeds of guilt and shame before they could take root. He had no choice in this matter. It was either his life or the lives of these people.

The saiyan closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and gathered his ki. At the very least, he could give them a quick death. His blue-white aura gathered around him, stirring up dust and bits of debris. It only took a few moments to collect enough energy. And he released it in one large and blinding blast. In a microsecond, the village, the buildings, and the people were vaporized. When the blast faded, Vegeta opened his eyes to find everything around him gone. With dead emotions, he took to the air in search of the next group of survivors.

The images of the purge faded to another memory, one that struggled with his sanity...

Vegeta wasn't sure how long he had been in the darkness. It could have been days or weeks or even an entire Vegetian season for all he knew. He had received a beating for a failed mission – meaning he had, in a fit of teenage rebellious anger against his master, blown up a very valuable planet rather than cleansed it of its inhabitants. Frieza had not been pleased. After the beating, Vegeta had blacked out and then woken up in this endless dark space.

Shivering violently, he huddled in a ball in a corner of the pitch black cell, trying to keep warm. They had kept the temperature of his prison unbearably low. He used what little ki he had to try to stay warm, but he hadn't much left to spare. They had seen fit to starve him, stalling his body's ability to heal and inhibiting his ability to keep warm. And his throat was so dry and scratchy. They hadn't even the courtesy to bring him water. Twice he had resorted to drinking his own urine in order to stay hydrated. But he no longer had that luxury.

Sleep was no relief. When he could feel himself start to succumb to the bliss of unconsciousness, either Zarbon or Dodoria would enter the cell and give him enough of a beating to wake him up but not hard enough to cause him to black out. When he was left alone, there was almost absolute silence to greet his ears. Only the sound of his own breath echoing off the frost-covered walls could be heard.

With his lingering starvation, thirst, and sleep deprivation, the prince was losing a battle against his sanity. He drifted back and forth from fits of uncontrolled laughter to bouts of wrenching sobs and back again. He welcomed the episodes of hallucinations that came from time to time as they were his only escape from his suffering. Only when the pain and darkness returned did he know that he had once again come back to reality.

The sharp screech of metal on metal ripped through the silence. A bright white light pierced through the blackness, stabbing his eyes painfully. He shielded himself from the light with a weak arm. Two sets of booted feet approached him; the sound of each step was deafening. Too blind to see, he couldn't identify who the intruders were. He felt hands wrap around his withered biceps and he was hauled up to his feet. But he was too weak to stand, so he was roughly dragged from the cell and into the angry, white light beyond. He couldn't recall much after that, but he did remember the blissful feeling of relaxing inside of a warm and soothing regeneration tank.

A memory of Frieza surfaced, one of the most traumatic events he had experienced brought back to life...

Vegeta was paralyzed. Lying face-down on the cold, hard floor, waves of inexplicable pleasure ran up his spine, pooled in his gut, and throbbed in his groin. He panted heavily as the tension coiled deep within in his body. His muscles tensed up as another strong surge of pleasure ran through him. A soft rumbling reverberated from his chest, reflecting the pleasant sensations.

He was so ashamed! How could his body betray his mind like this? He knew he was being tormented, violated, and victimized. He didn't want this to be happening to him. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to feel these things. And yet, his body reacted against his will. He felt so guilty that his body was enjoying it. He felt so embarrassed that it was the monster who was eliciting these reactions from him. He felt so filthly being used in such a way. He was only grateful that his vulnerability wasn't exacerbated with nudity.

"My little monkey prince," Frieza purred with false affection as he almost lovingly stroked the saiyan's tail with the tips of his sharp claws. "Do you enjoy this?"

"No," the sixteen-cycles-old saiyan choked.

"Are you sure? Your reaction tells me otherwise." The arcosian lord softly stroked the furry appendage to emphasize his point. Vegeta gasped with the sensation. "Would you like me to stop?" the lizard teased.

"Yes," sobbed the young prince with desperation.

"Are you going to fail me again?"

"No," the saiyan whispered even though he knew this current failure hadn't been his fault. Frieza had tasked him with acquiring some visually appealing slaves from his latest purge to replenish the arcosian's personal harem. Vegeta realized now that he had been set up to fail. It didn't matter how attractive or how experienced the slaves he found had been. Frieza would still find flaws in them, invent the flaws if he had to.

Frieza smirked devilishly. "I should hope not, my dear Vegeta. I would hate to have to resort to using you to fulfill my pleasures. This much right here fills me with more disgust than I imagine you're feeling at this very moment. You monkeys are such filthy creatures, after all."

"Please," Vegeta begged shamefully. "Forgive me, my lord."

The arcosian prince sighed, echoing his reluctance to release the saiyan. "Very well. Consider this a warning for the next time you plan on disappointing me."

Vegeta immediately felt the waves of uncontrollable pleasure cease as the ice lord halted his ministrations. But before the saiyan could breathe a sigh of relief, Frieza viciously ripped his claws through the sensitive flesh of the teenager's tail. His tail burned with searing pain that surged up his spine. The saiyan screamed until his throat was raw.

Vegeta was grateful when this horrific memory ended. But the one that replaced it was no consolation as an earlier recollection of the arcosian prince came to light...

Vegeta, at fourteen cycles old, was about to see another world for the first time. With jealousy, he knew that many of his people had seen at least a dozen worlds by the time they were his age. But none of them had ever stepped foot on the home-world of the arcosians before. Not even his father could boast of that honor.

The prince nearly pressed his face up against the glass panel of the single small porthole in his private quarters, waiting for the planet to come into sight. His guardian Nappa sat in the corner of the small and cramped room they shared, watching the prince's enthusiasm with a fond smile on his face. Raditz, the cabin's third occupant, tried to peer around the prince's flame shaped hair, attempting to catch a glimpse.

Soon enough, planet Arcose came into view. As the saiyan prince drank in the sight of the arcosian's world, his expectations sank with disappointment. Although it was much larger than planet Vegeta, it was one vast orb of featureless white landscape. Far from the Arctik System's star, planet Arcose was nothing but ice and snow beneath a thin atmosphere. It baffled the prince how an entire species could thrive on a planet with such a hostile environment.

The white sphere slowly reached up to swallow the ship. They passed over endless fields of glaciers as they cruised through the skies of planet Arcose. Bored and disillusioned with his crushed expectations, Vegeta almost missed the silhouette of a city in the distance. When he spotted it, his interest was renewed and he watched as they approached the only sign of civilization for miles.

The arcosian capital city was made of metals imported from other planets, shaped into tall spires intermixed with short, round domes. The snow and ice had built up around the structures – either by design or by accident, Vegeta didn't know – causing the buildings to appear as white as their surroundings. The ice was so thick in some places that the lights within barely shone through. The buildings were arranged in a series of circles, one inside the other, with the largest tower in the dead center. The buildings were connected to one another via tubes and enclosed bridges.

Frieza's ship slowly hovered across the city until it slowed over a very large domed structure among the outermost circle of buildings. Unlike other buildings, this one lacked the icy crust. The dome opened up, splitting in half, and retracting into the ground below. The space craft lowered inside and landed softly while the ceiling moved back into place.

The door to their quarters suddenly swooshed open to reveal an intimidated, short, green-skinned soldier with four eyes. "Master Frieza has requested your presence below in the rear vestibule before you exit the ship," he spoke in galactic standard. Without waiting for a response, the imp retreated from the doorway.

"What do you suppose Lord Frieza wants?" the younger teen asked in the saiyan tongue while gathering up his bag. The other two saiyans claimed their possessions as well.

"I imagine there are some items he would like to review with us before entering the city," Nappa replied. They easily found their way to the ship's rear exit. Most everyone was headed in the same direction. When they arrived, they found most of the ship's occupants already disembarking. Vegeta could feel the arctic air chilling the inside of the ship through the open ramp. Frieza and his two lieutenants – Vegeta had yet to learn their names – had remained on board as they supervised the unloading of the ship's cargo.

"Lord Frieza," Vegeta bowed respectfully as soon as he had approached the arcosian lord and waited for his acknowledgment.

The frost lord turned to face his new charge. "Ah, Prince Vegeta. I hope you were comfortable during the trip here." There was a strange edge to his voice that the saiyan couldn't decipher, but put him on alert nonetheless.

Having been trained by his mentors to be respectful and polite, especially when one was the guest of a powerful ruler, Vegeta answered, "Our room was more than sufficient. Thank you for your concern."

Truth be told, their room had been cramped and sparsely furnished. Vegeta suspected that they had been assigned to a room typical of a low ranking soldier or perhaps even a servant. But because he hadn't seen any living spaces other than their own, he had no basis for comparison.

"Hnnn..." Frieza hummed. He seemed to be considering how to interpret Vegeta's answer. The arcosian observed the three saiyans for a moment before redirecting his attention. "Cui! Front and center!"

A tall, purple skinned humanoid with fish-like facial features snapped to attention. He immediately dropped the crate he had been hauling and rushed over to the overlord. Saluting the ice lizard in the arcosian fashion, flattened left hand at his right shoulder, he bowed. "Yes, Lord Frieza."

"I want you to take the monkeys' luggage from them. Make sure you take good care of it," the ice prince commanded. Vegeta visibly bristled at the racial slur, but said nothing. He hadn't expected Frieza would speak of him in such a way. Vegeta was a prince, a saiyan prince, no less! He should be on equal standing with the arcosian prince! He should be treated as an honored guest! Vegeta had to remind himself that, yes indeed, he was Frieza's guest and that as such it was his duty not to offend his host. Even if he believed his host ought to treat him with the respect he deserved.

"Yes, my lord." Cui obeyed and then turned towards the saiyans. He collected Raditz's bag first. Then Nappa's. Finally, he turned towards the saiyan prince and held his hand out. The amphibious creature sneered impatiently as Vegeta scrutinized him. The saiyan realized that the soldier was barely much older than himself, if he could judge a foreign species' rate of aging correctly.

"Your bag," Cui drawled expectantly after a moment had passed. Vegeta reluctantly handed over his bag. The purple-skinned creature smirked. "Don't worry," he reassured. "You won't be needing anything in here." Vegeta realized too late that he had just handed over all that he had brought with him and that he'd likely see none of it again. Before Vegeta could protest his objections, Cui left the space craft.

"Vegeta," Frieza called, snapping the prince's attention away from his lost belongings. The saiyan had been so distracted with losing his bag that he failed to notice that Frieza had neglected to address him by his title. The ice lizard continued speaking as he headed towards the exit. His lackeys and the saiyans followed.

"Before I assign any missions to you, I will have you go through a very strict training regimen. I expect your... squad," he spoke the word with disdain and skepticism as he eyed the other two saiyans, "will undergo the same training as you." The group walked off of the end of the ramp and onto solid ground for the first time in several weeks. Frieza turned to face his three new recruits. "Do you have any questions?"

Vegeta nodded, eager to begin his training, to learn new skills and techniques. "When do we begin, my lord?"

A cruel smirk slowly spread across the ice lizards purple lips. "Right now."

Before the saiyans could react, Zarbon and Dodoria launched themselves at them. The saiyans immediately found themselves outranked, outclassed, and outmatched. They were beaten unmercifully. Vegeta groaned in pain as Zarbon gleefully laid into him with ruthless strikes to his face, his stomach, and his back. He could hear Dodoria doing the same to the other two saiyans. The severity of the abuse far exceeded anything Vegeta had ever experienced before. Certainly he had suffered injuries while sparring before, but this was inhumane!

When the beating was over and Vegeta lie helplessly on the ground, choking on his blood from a punctured lung, he couldn't help feeling shocked and confused. This was not how he had imagined his enlistment in Frieza's army. He was led to believe that he would be taken under Frieza's wing, cultivated to become a stronger fighter and a wiser leader. The reality couldn't be any further from his expectations. As darkness enveloped him, a sense of foreboding dread festered deep inside his gut. He knew, in that moment, that the next ten Vegetian cycles would be very, very long.

And then Vegeta escaped the series of nightmares wrought by Frieza as he dwelt into the years prior to his servitude...

"When will you be leaving?" a twelve-cycles-old saiyan girl with blue hair asked her companion.

"Next season, shortly after my name-day, when Lord Frieza arrives," the thirteen-cycles-old saiyan prince answered. He glanced up at the holo-board at the front of the room and copied the tutor's notes onto his hand-held digi-screen.

"Will you be gone long?"

"I am not sure how long, but I think I will be gone for a while at least. Father says I will receive new training when I arrive on Lord Frieza's home-world. Then I will get to go on missions," he answered. His voice was somewhat neutral, inflecting only a little of the uncertainty and excitement of his thoughts. In the corner of his right eye, he watched Bulma type the contents of the lecture on her own digi-screen.

"Must you go?" she asked.

"Yes. Father says that I will become much stronger. He says it is my duty to the saiyan people."

"Please pay attention," their tutor reprimanded the prince and young lady as harshly as he could. "If you are going to talk during class, then the least you could do is apply your lessons of the galactic standard tongue and speak it while you do so."

Bulma sighed and switched to the foreign language. "Bardock says Frieza can't be trusted."

"Lord Frieza," the prince corrected her in galactic standard. "And Bardock is the one who can't be trusted. He never likes it when you're around me."

"Yea, I know. But I don't think he's trying to be mean or anything. He's just kind of... I don't know... protective, I guess?"

"Paranoid, I'd say."

"Brother..." the younger, seven-cycles-old prince intruded upon their conversation. Like the older children, Tarble spoke in galactic standard. "I don't want you to go. Bardock says if you do, then bad things will happen."

Vegeta answered the boy behind him. "Bardock is crazy. Don't listen to him."

"If Bardock is crazy," their snarky cousin Lele taunted, "then why did my lord uncle tell him he had to take Bulma as his ward?"

The older prince turned in his seat to face the mouthy eight-cycles-old. "He did it because he knew no one else would agree to take her," he teased. "Only someone crazy would want Bulma!"

The blue-haired saiyan punched the prince in the arm with objection. She was perhaps the only saiyan on the planet who was not a member of the royal family that could strike the prince and get away with it. "That was very rude, Vegeta!"

"Yea, Vegeta! That was very rude!" Tarble repeated. "And it's not true, either! I would take Bulma as my ward – if I was old enough."

"Then you're crazy too," the thirteen-cycles-old rebutted.

"No I'm not! I like Bulma! One day she'll be my moonbond!"

Vegeta snickered. "You mean moonbride. And you can have her."

Lele giggled. In a sing-song voice, she taunted, "Tarble liiikes Bulma! Tarble liiikes Bulma!"

Two of the room's other occupants joined in the teasing. Nappa's almost identical nine-cycles-old twin sons, Kohul and Rabii,added their own two credits. In the saiyan tongue, they chanted, "Tarble and Bulma, nesting in a tree! B-O-N-D-I-N-G!"

Their saiyan tutor sighed with discouragement and gave up on the lecture for the moment while the children had their rambunctious fun. When the pack of brats got going, there wasn't much the elderly tutor could do to stop them. Especially since their ringleader – Vegeta – was far, far stronger than him. All he could do was wait until they settled down once again.

As the twins continued chanting – with Lele joining their chorus – a deep, crimson blush crept up Bulma's face. She turned to face the youngsters, scolding them in their native language. "Lele! Kohul! Rabii! Stop that!" To the younger prince, she replied with annoyance, "Tarble, you do not know what you are talking about. You are too young to understand."

The children quieted down with most of them failing horribly to suppress their grins and giggles. Only Tarble adorned a chagrined expression. Seeing his little brother's saddened expression, the merriment Vegeta felt at Bulma's expense had dimmed. His smile faded.

"What is wrong, little brother? Do you fear that Bulma will not want to bond with you?" although the tone of his voice matched the sincere concern he felt, he still felt the lingering compulsion to torment the blue-haired girl.

"No, it is not that," the young prince admitted. "I am still worried... about what Bardock said... What if something bad does happen while you are gone?"

Vegeta grinned reassuringly at his brother. "Do not worry, Tarble. Everyone knows that Bardock is crazy. Do not believe in anything he says."

Bulma interrupted. "I do not think Bardock is as crazy as everyone says he is. I know that none of his visions have come true, but maybe they just have not happened yet. I think maybe he is... confused."

"Prince Vegeta is correct," the eldest student of the group finally spoke up from the back of the study after having watched the exchanges between his classmates. All of the children's eyes fell upon Raditz. "My father is not 'confused.' He is delusional. These 'visions' he thinks he sees are the product of his overactive imagination. But his healers say that he is also very intelligent. Which is why he is relocating with Bulma to the Casuela Technical Facility in Frihol City."

This news was shocking to the children, including Vegeta.

"What?" was Bulma's quiet response. Frijol City was on the opposite coast beyond the Ensala Desert. She would be more than a day's flight away from the capital. "When did he plan on telling me this?"

"I do not believe he intended to tell you until your departure," the fifteen-cycles-old answered.

Vegeta could see Bulma's hands gripping tighter on her digi-screen. The prince asked the question that was on everyone's minds. "When does the Seer plan on leaving?"

"If my understanding is correct," Raditz replied, "I believe they will be departing this evening."

The glass on Bulma's digi-screen cracked with an audible snap. Vegeta could understand the anger she was obviously feeling. Had he been in her place, he'd be irate, too. As it was, he was unhappy with knowing that the few weeks he had left to spend time with her before his own departure had been cut down to mere hours.

For the past three cycles, they had been sparring partners, pack mates, loyal friends. Even though Vegeta enjoyed teasing Bulma from time to time, he still considered her with high regard. He had been preparing himself for the inevitability that they would be parting ways, but he hadn't expected it to happen so soon. She obviously had been having a much more difficult time coming to terms with his upcoming departure. She was not prepared for the immediate separation from him and the rest of their pack.

Their tutor attempted to placate the blue-haired girl despite the fact that she had just destroyed a five-thousand credit piece of technology. He knelt down beside her and spoke reassuringly. "Lady Bulmauka, do not despair. Think of this as a wonderful opportunity. Not as a curse or a punishment. You are by far the brightest student I have ever had the privilege to mentor. Casuela Technical Facility is the most advanced compound on the planet. You should feel honored to have such resources available to you."

Bulma finally snapped. "I do not WANT to feel honored, Rugula! I want to remain here!" She threw her digi-screen across the room where it smashed into a wall. Before the pieces could fall to the floor, she had already vacated the study. Vegeta quickly followed her.

"Bulma!" he called out as he chased her down one of many hallways in the royal estate. She ignored him. "BULMA!"

"What!" she bit out as she stopped dead in her tracks and faced her stalker.

"Where are you going?"

"To find that ass," she answered and then her eyes lit up with an idea. She latched her hand on his wrist. "And you are coming with me." She took off again with the prince in tow.

He didn't fight her, but questioned her intentions. "What do you need me for?"

"You are the prince," she replied confidently. "You can order him to stay in Verdur."

He understood her reasoning in that. "You can release me, girl. I will go with you."

Bulma complied with a blush. They exited the royal residence and flew to her own family estate. Being the only survivor of her house, her family's holdings belonged to her and her alone. Because she was Bardock's ward, the Seer had been required to take up residence in her home to run her estate and would continue to live there until she came of age.

It was a matter of moments before they landed in front of her home. She slammed open the mansion's front doors. Already, preparations for hers and Bardock's departure were underway. Furniture had been sealed away beneath protective covers. A few metallic containers sat in the front foyer waiting to be loaded onto an air vessel.

"BARDOCK!" the taller saiyan child screamed, her voice echoing through the residence.

A moment later, the spiky-haired man emerged from the library. "You are home early," he replied expressionlessly. His eyes landed on the prince and narrowed with displeasure. "And I see you have brought his highness."

Vegeta glared back at the older saiyan's blatant disrespect. "Seer," he sneered his greeting, using the title mockingly.

"What the hell are you thinking?" the girl snapped at her guardian.

Bardock's attention fell back upon his ward. "I am thinking that you have become a spoiled and petulant child who needs to learn how to reign in her anger. I see you have heard the news; from my son, I assume."

Bulma growled. "I am NOT going."

"You are."

"No, I am not! Vegeta, tell him that I will not be leaving Verdur."

The prince smirked cockily at the older saiyan knowing that he'd have to obey orders. "I command that Bulma stays here in the capital. As her guardian, you are to stay here as well." Bulma crossed her arms with a haughty huff and mirrored Vegeta's arrogant smile.

The corner of Bardock's lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. "You have no authority in this matter, child."

Vegeta bristled. How dare he openly defy his prince! "I am the prince! You will obey my orders!"

"I may have to obey you," the Seer drawled, "but I must also obey the orders of the king. He sanctioned the plans to take Bulma to Frihol City. It was his idea, actually."

Vegeta's stomach fell. The only person on the entire planet who outranked him had given the command to relocate his friend and pack-mate to a city nearly half-way around the planet. He could see that Bulma was stunned as well based on the expression upon her face.

"That is not fair," the girl muttered, the steam of her ire released in the span of a few seconds. "Why did I not get to have a say in this matter?"

"You are still a girl-child," Bardock replied. "You have no say. Until you come of age, I am your guardian and I will decide what is best for you."

"And what do you know about what is best for me?" she yelled. "You are a terrible father! You sent your infant son away because you are too stupid to know that your visions are not real! And that is why you had Raditz taken from you! How does that qualify you to know what is best for me?"

For the first time in the confrontation, Bardock's face betrayed his anger. He refused to answer her allegations. "You will go to Frihol City. You will be tutored at Casuela Technical Facility under my guidance. And you will do these things because it is required of you!"

Vegeta gritted his teeth with renewed anger at the Seer's words. "You are just trying to keep us apart!" he accused.

Bardock locked eyes with the prince. "If that is what you wish to believe, then so be it." To Bulma, he calmly but firmly instructed, "Pack what things you think you will be needing. We will be leaving in a few hours." And then he quietly left the way he came.

Vegeta was a swirl of emotions; anger, frustration, displeasure, helplessness. He didn't want to lose his closest friend so soon. He wasn't ready yet. He was supposed to have at least another season before he had to say 'goodbye' to her. She was equally upset. Her lashing tail revealed her inner turmoil.

After several silent moments stewing in her own anger, Bulma spoke with quiet surrender. "I suppose I should start packing. You should return to the royal estate. I am sure your father will not be pleased to hear that you are slacking off in your studies."

"You do not want me to stay and help you?" he offered.

"No. I do not want the image of you sending me away to be the last memory I have of you for the next several cycles." She sighed with defeat and grasped his hand in hers. "Promise me one thing..." she begged of him with pleading eyes.

He couldn't deny her. Not while she looked at him with such open desperation. "Name it."

"Promise me that we will always be pack-mates."

He grinned with amusement. It was a silly thing to ask of him. "Of course we will be," he reassured her. Despite the gloom that the day's events had taken, she managed a small, yet sad smile.

That had been the last image he saw of her for ten cycles.

Story Notes:

Asterakis – from the latin word asteraceae, a wide-range family of plants with star-shaped flowers of composite petals, many of which are edible or have edible parts.

Casuala Technical Facility – from the spanish word cazuela, meaning casserole.

Frihol City – from the spanish word frijole, meaning bean.

Ensala Desert – from the spanish word ensalada, meaning salad.

Rugula – derived from arugula.