Credit where Credit is due:
The Saiyan Language is used with permission from MegaKat.
Words and phrases used in this chapter:
fri'vau - cowards/weaklings
ve'ho - prince
"Hey Vegeta, where are you going?" It only took Raditz three steps to catch with his errant prince. "The transport is the other direction."
"Yes, I know that. I'm not an idiot, Raditz. I'm going to the Pits and I'm making our profit back." Before the older male could protest further, Vegeta cut him off. "Don't bother arguing. I should have gone on my own years ago. Fuck Nappa and fuck the rules."
"He's just being cautious," Raditz offered up, in hopes of putting off another royal tirade. It did not work. "And I am not looking forward to explaining to him why you 'borrowed' his tablet without asking."
"Pah! Stop defending him! I'm tired of him sitting on my tail. I can take on just about anything they've got, and Nappa knows it. I'm not a baby," Vegeta spat. It was totally ridiculous that he could raze planets and extinguish life, but could not go off base on his own, unless for a mission. "What's to lose? I'm already here. So I do a few fights, rake in the credits. What could go wrong?"
Sometimes, Raditz could not believe the things that came out of Vegeta's mouth. With a long suffering sigh, he rolled his eyes and shook his long mane, then mumbled under his breath: "With you, ve'ho, anything."
"What was that?"
Raditz faked a coughing spat, but smiled behind his hand. "Er, n-nothing. Vegeta."
"I thought so. Besides, we have no idea when we can offload the goods, and I need my supplements. I'll go do it myself if I have to. I'm going to make my own fortune. You can come with, or you can crawl home on your own." Before Raditz could change his mind, Vegeta put on a burst of speed and made a straight line for the Fighting Pits and for his imminent victory.
During the day cycle, minor bouts ran in one smaller dome. They were petty matches with unknown and beginning fighters, but it was a place to start. Even then, it was ablaze with spotlights and the site could easily be found from orbit. Vegeta thought it odd, since the Pits and Unincorporated Zone itself were supposed to be a secret. During the prime time hours, all four domes would blaze with life and rock with force, swelled to capacity with screaming patrons and spectators.
The big fights occurred during the night cycle: Ki matches that featured ongoing champions from around the galaxy; where millions of credits could be earned on one waver, and a fortune could be made or lost in an instant. Some of the Frieza Force Elites moonlighted here for extra income. Every year cycle, a speciality tourney was held, with a purse of 20 million credits and bragging rights. It was a massively popular event that drew crowds and their money from all over, and was televised throughout the North Galaxy. Only the best fighters could enter, those who had earned the right.
Someday ...I'll be in that ring, and I'll take that title. That will teach them all to look down upon me! Perhaps, if I'm lucky, I'll achieve the Legend, and make them all pay for mocking me.
The familiar double barrier surrounded the Pit entrance; it was similar to the one they passed when first entering the Zone proper, and Vegeta was not sure why they even bothered. No one ever checked them for weapons, or confiscated any if they were found. And he, like so many others in the Force, did not need to carry weapons at all to protect himself.
Rumor had it that the Unincorporated Zone had existed long before Frieza remade FP-79. Before terraforming, it had been a hub of activity where every illicit desire could be bought and sold. It was also ignored by the corrupt officials of the Galactic Patrol. Because the site served a practical purpose, it had been left untouched when the purge teams razed the world of its native population and erected the sterile military domes in their place.
As they approached the gates, Vegeta found it difficult to suppress his excitement. Finally, after years of waiting, he was here as a combatant and not a spectator! Two hulking beings dressed in a combination of Saiyan polycloth and old style armor flanked the entranceway. They sported sleek new scouters and regarded everyone with cold suspicion. They held large maces in their hands, the ends electrified. One good whack could disable most beings, perhaps even a Saiyan on an off day.
Well, perhaps not, Vegeta reflected. They were intimidating and able to take on the common rabble with ease, but certainly no match for the Prince of Saiyans. Even on his worst day.
But then, Vegeta had to remember that most of those who came to fight - even those who worked for the Frieza Army - were not Ki users. If they were, they had pitiful Power Levels. They were whom the guards were meant for, not him.
As they passed through and entered the main dome, he felt the hair on the nape of his neck and tail stand up as the scan assessed them and found them acceptable. The guards side-eyed them, but did not speak or halt their progress. Vegeta was sure that they would be watched closely until they left; Saiyans were a rare sight now, and they tended to attract notice even if they kept to themselves.
Many large viewscreens lined the walls. They would blaze into life once the evening matches started, displaying names and statistics: current and historic. All active fights would also be shown for those unable to find seats in the rings. At the moment, all but one were inactive.
"Let's get you signed up for a match, Vegeta. They don't know you here and they'll try to give you a hard time, so let me do the talking. It'll go easier."
The Fight Director looked up from behind his booth and fixed the Saiyans with his one good eye as they approached. The other was concealed behind a patch, but Vegeta was sure there was nothing wrong with his vision. He scratched the back of his thick neck, leaned forward, then nodded to Raditz in a familiar manner.
"Hey, Mengo," Raditz returned the casual greeting.
"Well, well. The big rollers aren't here yet. So, what's the occasion? Are you finally going to fight?"
"He's not. I am," Vegeta interrupted.
"Really?" The orange skinned man looked Vegeta up and down, curled one lip, then deliberately addressed the older Saiyan. "Raditz, I'm surprised. Y'know we don't let kiddies fight in the Pits. You should take your son and find ... oh, I dunno, a more wholesome family activity."
He broke into a craggy grin, yellow teeth chipped, leaned forward and reached out to pat Vegeta on the head.
"Uh, ve'ho, don't - " Raditz did not get to finish his warning.
"I am not a child, and he is most certainly not my father!" Tired of being dismissed and patronized, Vegeta reacted violently. Without thinking, he grabbed the man's arm, twisted it and pulled down, then stepped in close so they were nose to nose. He bared his teeth and hissed while his tail lashed. Heat poured off of his small frame.
"Oh gods, Vegeta ... what are you doing," Raditz howled in frustration.
"I am an Elite warrior, I am the death of worlds! You will let me in or I will break every bone in your body!"
"Let him go, Vegeta," Raditz moaned, and facepalmed. "Are you trying to get us kicked out of here too?"
Vegeta seriously considered kicking Raditz' ass along with the smart mouthed clerk.
Instead of being intimidated or offended, the Fight Director calmly removed his arm from Vegeta's grasp and stood to his full height. He smiled wide, and laughed as if Vegeta had told him something amusing, instead of threatening his life. Apparently, he was used to being menaced.
"Are you laughing at me?" The odd reaction caught Vegeta off guard, and he faltered. What was wrong with this man?
"Son, if I had a credit for every time someone threatened me, I could buy this planet ten times over! I could have you tossed out for this, you know, but I like your attitude. 'I am death'..." he chuckled, then cracked his thick neck. "Okay, Mister Death. I normally don't let children in, but I like your attitude. You've got a set on you, that's for sure."
"I told you, I am not a child! Now, put me in the Ki ring." Next to him, Raditz breathed a sigh of relief, and his posture relaxed. Vegeta glanced up at his comrade, and the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.
"About that ... here's the deal. Since this is your first fight, you'll be in the martial combat ring; no fancy shit, no energy blasts, no flying. Just fists and feet. Prove to me that you can play with the big boys."
"You can't be serious," Vegeta griped, and continued to glare up at the Fight Director. The tendrils of anger began to stir in the back of his mind again. His tail puffed out, but remained around his waist. He so wanted to give this arrogant bastard a taste of his power. "I am not some commoner who scuffles in the dirt."
"I don't care if you're Lord Friggin' Frieza himself. My arena, my rules." Mengo spread out his arms wide, as if he were embracing the entirety of the Pits. "If you don't like it, you can get the hell out. I've got a hundred other men who can take your place."
"Ve'ho," Raditz placed a hand on Vegeta's shoulder, then patted once. The gentle touch served its purpose, pulled his attention away. "It's just a qualifier round. You can do this in your sleep, right? Win this, and we can make our payday back. Besides, when did you ever turn down the opportunity to give someone a beat-down?"
Stupid Raditz ... making sense again.
This was clearly Raditz' world, not his, and he was at a severe disadvantage. The thought of Raditz being better at something was a hard pill to swallow, but it was becoming clear that he had left the safety of his circles behind and fallen into Raditz' sphere of influence.
Because he felt unsettled and annoyed, Vegeta shifted from foot to foot. "Tch. Fine, whatever. Now stop wasting my time and let me in."
"Glad we understand each other. Entry fee is fifty. You'll fight a random opponent, and like I said, this is hand to hand only." Mengo held out one beefy hand, palm up, for his payment. "You'll be round six, so watch the board. When I call your number, be back here in five minutes, or you'll forfeit. There's no refunds, so be prompt. Prove yourself, and I'll bump you up the tiers. Good luck."
"Luck has nothing to do with it, Vegeta replied.
Vegeta and Raditz stood in line and waited to place their bets along with the rest of the unwashed masses, much to Vegeta's dismay. He was constantly assailed by various noxious odors that he could not seem to avoid, even when he buried his nose into the crook of his arm. For some reason, Raditz seemed unaffected. The tall Saiyan stood impassive with his arms folded over his chest and his eyes scanning the crowd in a casual manner. He seemed so comfortable, whereas Vegeta was already twitching. He envied Raditz' easy manner and apparent ability to allow things to roll off of his broad back.
He played with the credit stick in his chest pocket, a leftover from their last contraband deal, and thought about the numerous times he had come here with Nappa. That was a better time, a simpler time ... and Vegeta allowed his mind to drift back.
When Vegeta was nine, he and Nappa had watched the championship fights together from the preliminaries to the final bout. That was the year that Jeice took the title. It was a fond memory that held a secret place in Vegeta's heart, but it had only served to fuel his desire to prove himself. Nappa could not seem to discourage him ... and he really did not seem to want to either. There was only so much 'keeping a low profile' that any proud Saiyan could take.
Raditz broke into his pleasant reverie by tapping him once on the shoulder. "Give me your stick, Vegeta, I'll do the betting. Think of it as 'supervising'; you're relegating the boring work to me. It'll go easier. Besides, they know me here, and won't give me any shit."
"Huh. Do you know everyone around here?" Vegeta raised one eyebrow and the left side of his mouth curled up.
"Pretty much. I often meet clients for Master Zarbon - "
"Ugh... I'm sorry I asked!" Vegeta flapped his hands at Raditz in mock distress. They stood in silence for another minute before Vegeta spoke up again. He did not want to seem ... ignorant. "Hey, Raditz ... can I bet on myself?"
Raditz chortled. "Heh heh ... of course, ve'ho. No one would take you seriously if you didn't."
"Good. Here ..." Vegeta gave his stick into Raditz' care. "Bet it all. I want to clean up."
After wagering everything on both of their sticks, the two Saiyans returned to the prep room. They sat on the benches, along with the others waiting for their turn to fight milled about; a sad lot of varied beings who, like Vegeta and Raditz, were likely down on their luck as well. They could see the ongoing fights, and for the most part, Vegeta was not impressed. The Prince cast a look up at his companion, and sighed. His fight was an hour away, and already he was bored to death. To pass the time, he paced in tight circles around Raditz.
I hope this isn't the best they have to offer here ... I could have defeated these fri'vau when I first left my natal Pod!
He scanned the room, assessed any potential challengers, and found them wanting. Weaklings, all of them! He resisted the urge to snicker. Although he knew he could likely take them all, only a fool underestimated his opponents.
"Hey Vegeta ... you want to watch from the crowd while you wait?" The long-haired Saiyan was always quick to respond to his Prince's mercurial moods. "It might be better than sitting here."
"Hell no. Like I give a shit about some weaklings slap fighting." Vegeta crossed his arms and stood. "This is insulting. I thought you said you had connections."
Raditz huffed, and his tail twitched. The scent of annoyance came from him. "I do. But you can't expect to join the Elite Ring on the first go. You have to work your way up ... Ah, heads up, ve'ho. We've got company."
With his tail, Raditz indicated four beings clad in varying styles of armor, from the common Saiyan polycloth to an assortment of furs and chains. The men approached them in a wall of bulging flesh and sneers, clearly intent upon defending their turf ... or what they thought was their turf. It would not be so for long, after the Prince of Saiyans was done with them.
The ring leader, a dark green lizard covered in scales and scars and sporting a massive spiked tail, stepped in front of the crowd. He placed his taloned hands upon his hips and stood firm. The other three fanned out, and all focused their malice upon Raditz, of course.
In response, Raditz took his place next to Vegeta. The older Saiyan drew up to his full height, shook his long mane, and folded his arms across his broad chest. In turn, he bared his teeth and fixed them with his best warrior's scowl. When he wanted to, Raditz could be intimidating, especially to those who only knew Saiyans by reputation as ruthless destroyers.
"Wondered how long before you monkeys would show up in the ring." The creature opened his maw to reveal jagged teeth; the odor that issued from his mouth reminded Vegeta of rotting meat, and he fought not to gag. "We've been hearin' for years about you savages. We're lookin' forward to takin' you down a peg."
The navy skinned brawler dared to poke Raditz in the chest with one claw and chuckle. His cronies all snickered, but Raditz did not move a muscle.
Raditz tilted his head to one side, then unfolded his arms to place one hand upon Vegeta's shoulder. "Is that so? Today's your lucky day. But, you won't be fighting me, you'll be facing my Prince. You should say your prayers now."
The giant warrior did not speak for a minute out of shock. Then he cawed laughter, looked down his long reptilian snout at Vegeta, and crouched on his haunches in a placating manner. "Ooo ... scary little monkey child. What you gonna do?"
"This," Vegeta replied.
Before the boastful reptile even had time to reply, Vegeta leapt up, performed a powerful roundhouse kick to the fighter's skull, shattered the jaw. Teeth and blood flew out in a spatter of gore. His heavy body sagged to the ground, unconscious. from one blow. Suddenly, the other three gained a healthy respect and backed off. Raditz broke into amused laughter.
"Hey!" Mengo came running over, waving his arms in wide arcs. "No fighting in the prep area - save it for the ring. Any more monkey business and you two are out of here - no refunds."
Vegeta stood over the slumped body, a wicked grin plastered across his face. "Don't worry. There's plenty more where that came from."
A/N: Is anyone really surprised that Vegeta made it to the fighting ring?
As always, I hope you have enjoyed this chapter. Many thanks to those who have favorited, followed, and commented. Please let me know what you think - your comments matter!
Surelysaiyangood: Thank you so much for checking out the story and your kind words. I'm glad you're enjoying it. I work hard to keep everyone in character and to expand on his childhood.
Fangurlsrule: Yes, Vegeta is a classic politician... he excels at taking all the credit. XD. Unfortunately, he will also have to take credit for screwing things up - but he'll probably find a way to blame that on someone else. Glad the bar details amused you! It's pretty bad if a Saiyan won't eat the food!
Vegebulluv: It was a bit surprising that Raditz could talk some sense into Vegeta. I'm sure his ego won't let that keep happening, but even he has to realize that sometimes other people have good ideas. Don't worry, you'll find out about where their contact got off to.
Nancy103: Thank you! Part of what I've been trying to do is to demonstrate that Raditz is not inept - even if Vegeta likes to think so. And Raditz is always trying to build up and help Vegeta. Too bad the Prince doesn't tend to return the favor.