Chapter 27

Naya looked around her. There was nothing but weirdly coloured forest and dirt as far as the eye could see.

She glanced at the two companions who appeared out of thin air next to her. "Find anything?"

They shook their heads and she sighed.

"To the next planet then"

Pyf and Lyf grabbed her arms and placed two fingers on their foreheads. All three disappeared.

[Medical Base]

This was Frieza Planet X-05 home to a number of cutting edge scientific facilities aimed at enhancing his army for Universal Conquest so the tyrant didn't have to do it himself. As much as Frieza despised Saiyans he held great respect for their ability to grow stronger, going as far as to perceive it as a threat to himself. Hence he exterminated them.

Or so it goes.

Here on Planet X-05, each facility handled different aspects of Frieza's army. There was a main facility however, filled with the brightest and best minds Frieza could find and care about enough to spare. This facility was nicknamed the Big Brain, and housed all the most cutting edge projects from any number of fields. It was easily the biggest and most advanced of all the facilities on the planet.

In this facility there was a project. This project's purpose was to turn the Saiyan's gift for growing stronger into something Frieza could use, a weapon he could control.

Cel got up in the morning from the surgery room and moved down to the patient showers to wash down and dress in a new white uniform. He eventually moved downstairs to join the younger kids for breakfast. When he entered the cafeteria he found Lery already there, sharing out ration bars and some kind of bread. She nodded at him and continued working to keep the kids away from the bars before everyone had come down.

"I told you, it's because we want to have breakfast together," she admonished a particularly loud boy.

Cel sat down at his own tray of edibles and waited. He understood this. Ever since mum… well… they'd had to put the kids down here because they couldn't manage all of them. Once they decided they were going to get outside help and leave the base from time to time, it was necessary to keep them safe. He Lery, Broc, Coli and Dish were the oldest with Coli barely qualifying at the age of 8.

Soon enough, Broc entered the room, a tall and skinny figure dressed in white, and a gaggle of boys cheered and began chatting animatedly with him. Broc smiled though it was weak. He wasn't a morning person. His glasses were askew. Cel felt sorry for him and settled for a small wave instead of a good morning. Broc waved back at him absently and began to dodge questions with practiced ease. Broc was 12.

Lery eventually swooped by and told them all to keep quiet at the table, adding that it was too early for noise. Lery was 11.

"How do you time that?" one boy asked. All of them promptly started up again.

"Because there's a time monster who keeps track of when you're supposed to do things," Lery replied.

"You're trying to trick us. There's nothing like that."

"Yes there is," Coli spoke up, her favorite blanket wrapped around her. "And if you don't shut up it'll come get us."

"Well I don't believe her."

"If we get in trouble because you can't close your mouth I'm going to explode you," Coli threatened.

The younger boy went quiet, cowed by the three feet of fury that is a glaring Coli. Despite her cute looks, Coli had obtained a lot of her mannerisms from Vegeta videos. While she was not quite as threatening as the real Saiyan Prince she certainly had the intimidation factor down. Cel reflected on how mum had a similar effect despite not seeming very impressive.

It's like there's something besides power that scares people, Cel mused.

Whatever it was, Riku had it too…

At the thought of him, Cel felt a sharp cold on the inside.

"I don't care."

Coli went back to playing with her blanky just as the circular door to the cafeteria rolled aside to reveal Dish, already heavily bruised and covered in stale sweat. The second he walked in there was true silence. He had that effect on everyone. Dish was the oldest at 14 and by far the most powerful and talented fighter among them.

Not only did he start out the strongest, he continually trained to stay that way. He loved to watch Vegeta's battles and the Saiyan Prince was his role model, much like Coli. The bruises and dirt likely came from him getting some early morning training in. He would rest after eating and train again. There was only one person more powerful than him and it was Cel when he used his golden form.

It annoyed Dish, Cel knew. Especially when they had stormed the Big Brain, hoping for a way to fix things, to bring mum back. Cel was the strongest but he'd lost horribly and they had had to retreat. Dish was heavily injured… there was so much blood…

Dish sat at his place without acknowledging anyone and after a few minutes they all dug in. There was minor tomfoolery from the younger kids every now and then but Dish's presence served as a pretty powerful deterrent for anyone seeking to misbehave. Breakfast passed without incident and Lery soon had the kids on their way to the play room with Coli as their appointed leader.

Dish stood up after his meal and nodded at Cel, "Come. We need to train."

Broc glanced up. "Just like that?"

Lery shoo'd the last of the young ones out the door and glanced back at Dish. "I thought we were going to discuss how to move forward from here."

"You speak like we didn't consider all our options before going out in space," Dish snorted. "You're letting your desperation cloud your thinking. It's pathetic."

"You don't have to talk to us like that," Broc said with a frown.

Dish rolled his eyes. "What we need is strength, plain and simple. There's no other way. That piece of crap we put together won't last long. Or did you suddenly become a master biologist when I wasn't looking?"

Broc flinched and looked away.

Cel stood up. "I… I agree with Dish."

Dish glanced at Cel. If he was pleased by Cel's statement it wasn't showing. He only turned his gaze on all of them once more.

"Do whatever you want. I'm done watching and waiting."

He left the room and Cel, after some nervous shuffling, followed him out. Broc and Lery didn't have much of a response to any of that. The two could only acknowledge that their role had come to an end. Lery wasn't much of a fighter and Broc was a lot more inclined to use his brain than his muscles. Two skills that would see minimal use until they had what they needed.

It was down to the two powerhouses now…

[Somewhere in space]

This planet was very barren, relying on imports from other holdings that were under its control. Naturally this meant its space station was the hub of all activity and life on the planet. At the top of a giant tower that stood right in the middle of the space station was a large, luxurious and spacious apartment.

It belonged to Duskaar. The alien in question was sitting on a fantastically soft couch in his main hall with his eyes on his holo screen as financial data from across his small empire scrolled down it.

"There's been a boom in income…" he observed. "Why?"

"Well," said a voice from his earpiece. "Some of Frieza's men pulled out of some planets. To prevent them being retaken by local rebels the purchaser hired some of ours."

And we made this much profit.

Yet more evidence that Frieza was filthy rich. One job and their income had increased by this much. Duskaar had always wondered who exactly could afford to blow money on an entire planet. How did you value it? Who could afford it? Really, really big players that's who. People just as big or bigger than the Cold family themselves. Duskaar could think of a number of ways to be that rich without challenging Frieza.

Then again his estimates could be wrong. He had always considered himself not too far off from that level of wealth but here it was on his screen. A single job- no half a job, his men never purged the planet which was likely an additional service- was literally an entire ten percent of his total income. Duskaar had always known the Cold family was far ahead of everyone else. They weren't just a business, they were an empire on par with any combination of inter-planetary kingdoms out there- and those were likely to be their customers. Selling so much to the competition could be considered unwise but the Cold family had stayed relevant all these years. You could get away with a lot if even a single one of you could casually swat armies.

Duskaar rubbed his chin thoughtfully. If we could somehow cash in on this…

Compete with the Cold family. A suicidal idea on any count. Money could not protect you from King Cold and his sons. There was no force that truly rivalled them either… People had stopped trying to fight them long ago.

Duskaar sighed. Yet another opportunity he would have to ignore.

"Boss?"

"That Cold family…" Duskaar answered. "We're fighting over their crumbs…"

He could fight off an army single handedly if he wanted to, though admittedly he couldn't do it with a wave of his hand. He could blow up planets too. More than one. At the same time! But the Cold family was stronger. Far stronger.

Except there was that report he'd received a while back. He'd dismissed it as rumor…

Duskaar flicked his fingers and the screen changed to a small recorded clip. Some of the boys liked to do menial work for Frieza on the down low. He knew of course. He wouldn't begrudge them that. What you did outside of working hours was your business, goodness knows some of them needed the money until they could climb a bit higher up the ladder.

One of them had an audio clip from one his jail run deliveries for that giant prison Frieza owned.

"Order's out for any transport teams to keep any eye out for a golden haired, green eyed fighter, hails from a planet named Earth. Call in the minute you see him."

A pause and some shuffling. "This is a special line."

"That's it?"

"There are two other targets you can go after: First is a planet known as Earth and second is Prince Vegeta. If you are able to find or identify the location of any of these three targets call in. There are promises of bonus pay on top of what you have just received."

Word was going round that someone beat Frieza. That or his father saw fit to do so for some reason or other. This didn't seem likely. Cold was famously lax with Frieza, if not his eldest son Cooler.

Hmm…

There could be an opportunity here after all…

[Frieza Planet X-05, Medical Base]

Their loss had been decisive. They had never had a chance. They had attacked the very next day, Dish, Cel, Lery and Broc. They had been able to find a potential solution, a new and improved healing tank solution that could regenerate anyone even from discarded limbs. Broc's hacking and Lery's understanding of good administration provided that information and a location. They'd hoped to sneak in and get a sample of the liquid used or even steal the tank. Something. Anything. Perhaps even try to sneak in with-

Cel took a kick to his chest that knocked the breath out of him and sent him sprawling for several feet.

"Pay attention," Dish said as he fired several ki blasts.

Cel scrambled to his feet and dodged a few, got clipped by one hard enough to break his posture and threw up his guard as the rest homed in on him.

But they'd been caught. A scientist who happened to be on his way to the room where the tank was held spotted them. No one knew what he did or how he did it. Perhaps they had simply been there all along… but they had melted from the walls, all dressed in armor. Or maybe they were cyborgs; that armor had looked like it was grafted onto them. Humanoids of differing shapes, sizes and number of limbs but all in that form-fitting, grey steel.

Dish had been the first to move. One of them, only one, and with no command whatsoever, leaped in front of him and stopped him from attacking the scientist. The fight had been brutal and one sided, with Dish calling for Broc and Lery to run away. Cel had jumped in and been swatted aside almost absentmindedly. In all that, the rest of them never moved as the scientist laughed and commented.

They were an improvement he said. An idea with the potential to far surpass the failures of the Saiyan program. His brainchild. An improvement over them. Their replacement after they had been stolen, so long ago. Dish had gone for a beam attack. No one knew he had a proper technique besides generic beams and blasts, never mind if it was copied. His opponent had stepped past it and put a tear in his torso for his efforts.

When Dish fell that was when Cel first turned gold. He'd rushed in and knocked back the enemy and moved to Dish. Before he could move three steps he'd been kicked into a wall. Cel knew at that moment, even in his haze of rage and pain, he could not win. They broke his arm and the energy blasts to his back left his skin raw and bleeding. But he had taken Dish and ran.

The enemy gave chase and only some quick hacking by Broc had saved their lives. They had gone for help…

And now here they were.

Cel charged the second the blasts let up only to get caught by Dish and thrown to the ground. All the breath left his lungs and he lay there stunned. Dish moved away from him and folded his arms, waiting for him to recover. It was getting easier of course, Cel was sure that if he just kept it up, kept fighting, he would get even better.

"All you're learning to do is take a beating," Dish said. "You fight like trash."

Cel gasped a few times as his breath returned to him. Dish observed him, unimpressed, as he sat up and got back on his feet after a few minutes.

"I don't know what to say to you," Dish admitted. "You're getting stronger but your fighting sucks. I bet I could fight your golden form right now."

Sure. For a few seconds. He'd done it once.

"I thought I was making progress," Cel managed, after a few more seconds of panting.

He had his hands on his knees.

"You are," Dish said. "It's just power. Because you fight bad, you're easy to beat."

Cel wasn't much up close. He knew he wasn't. What exactly he hoped to do about it he wasn't too sure. He knew that if you were strong enough you didn't need to be better than your opponent. He knew that. But Dish was stronger than him so that wouldn't work here. Those guys had been stronger than him too. And how did he account for people whose strength he was unware of? He couldn't be stronger than everybody…

Five days. Five days of waking up early to join Dish in training and then sparring. The morning wasn't even over yet. They would be here 'till lunch, take a rest and the rest of the day was theirs. Dish spent it training some more.

Cel straightened up. "Well-"

"Guys, we need to deal with this."

Dish and Cel looked toward one of the cameras in the corner of the Solar Room. The voice had emanated from the speakers they had embedded in the walls when they first chose to use this room as a prison. It was Broc.

Cel and Dish glanced at each other and made their way to the communication room where Broc was sitting at the control panel. Lery was right behind him.

"What is it?" Dish demanded.

Broc moved aside to expose a live feed from one of the cameras monitoring the base exterior. Cel froze.

There, casually sitting on a rock and tapping away at a digital pad, was Riku.

[Meanwhile outside]

I scrolled down the information page. There wasn't much to read but it had given me a very basic idea of who those kids were and where they came from. Considering what they were, their priority level was awfully low…

I heard the faint noise of a metal trap door opening, the same one I had escaped from a currently unimportant number of days ago.

Here they come…

[Communication Room]

Who would talk to Riku first was proving to be a debate. It could be a trap for example. Everyone had argued over what to do before Dish finally expressed his disgust and walked out of the room.

Cel glanced at his retreating back and said, "I should probably join him…"

Lery sighed and nodded. "Go, we'll watch from here."

Better the two most capable of defending themselves than them. There was no denying that all four of them would have been better able to examine what Riku was saying, but Dish was not one to wait for what he felt was pointless.

As Cel made to leave, Broc handed him some ear buds. "Take these. We can listen in that way. And communicate."

Cel nodded his thanks, took his and ran after Dish. Upon catching up with the older Saiyan, Cel offered Dish the other pair.

"Here, Broc says this will let them listen in."

"You have one don't you? They can listen through you."

Before Cel could object, Dish had reached the entrance and climbed up the ladder. Cel stared after him helplessly, then gave up and followed Dish.

Outside, the sunlight was not particularly bright what with not being midday. It made it all too easy to spot Riku, still casually tapping away at his digital pad. With his Saiyan hearing, Cel was easily able to pick up faint sounds from the device. In that moment all his trepidations were halted, his concerns and worries about what Riku could or might do and all that had happened between them on their first meeting vanished.

He's playing video games.

Cel could recognize the sound of Tetri-S anywhere.

"So what do you want?" Dish asked. He folded his arms as he came to a stop.

"Good Morning," Riku replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Dish did not acknowledge the greeting. "Well?"

"Good. Morning." The words were spoken pointedly and a little more sharply.

Broc was astounded. "He's challenging Dish?"

"This is not going to end well…" came Lery's voice, already sounding tired.

Cel couldn't help staring, his mind knocked flat. He'd expected intimidation, straight business, not…. Whatever this was… A soldier insisting on manners. It was so surreal…

"You do not decide how this goes down," Dish said. "You made your case clear earlier. Say what you want or get out!"

There was a loud series of blip noises. "Hmmm… broke my record."

"Listen when people speak!" Dish snapped, unfolding his arms and glaring at his senior.

Riku did not respond for a few more rapid blips.

Then he spoke. "Your age is showing, kid. You're this upset that I turned you down when you took me against my will? Or are simple greetings naturally that hard for people as constipated as you?"

Dish looked stunned. It was not an expression one saw often on Dish's face and it was almost comical how his jaw dropped. If not for the gravity of the situation, Cel might have laughed. Here and now it was all he could do to acknowledge the sheer impossibility of what was happening. There was a telling silence on the other end of the ear buds he was wearing.

Riku looked up and raised an eyebrow, fingers still rapidly redirecting the descending blocks on his screen.

Dish was still frozen and Cel decided to take over.

"Good Morning."

Riku glanced at him and nodded once before turning his attention back to his game.

Dish finally seemed to overcome the mental hurdle of being expected (forced) to pay greetings and scowled once more.

"You have your greetings, now answer the question," he demanded.

"You and I have not initiated conversation," Riku answered without looking up.

"Yes we have, we're talking right now."

"Only because I have to explain the purpose of a greeting to an ape."

Dish was growing livid. "It doesn't matter!"

"So it costs you nothing, and comes with the added benefit of building rapport, a skill you are clearly in need of schooling in."

Dish looked ready to tear Riku's teeth out. "This is my last warning."

Riku paused the game and looked up. "Or what?"

And there it was. That cold, detached, merciless look in his dark eyes that had been there the night he'd first escaped.

I don't care.

Cel twitched slightly.

Dish blinked, seeming to realize for the moment, just who he was arguing with over something as trivial as greetings.

Dish grimaced and said the words as if heaving up something foul, "Good… morning…"

Just like that the look was gone, redirected to an unpaused game of Tetri-S. Blips once again, punctuated the atmosphere.

"A fantastic morning to you too sir," Riku said.

Broc sounded like he'd been hit with a brick. "Did… did he just…?"

Lery was silent, but Cel was sure she was equally amazed. Dish was practically a force of nature when he got on your case but here he'd been cowed with a few insults and a look.

"Why have you come back?" Dish asked eventually, toughening up again.

"I wanted to," came the reply. The older Saiyan was not looking up from his screen.

"Why did you want to?" Dish asked, frustration leaking into his voice.

"I felt like it."

Dish looked like he was going to pop a vein with the way he was grinding his teeth.

Cel decided to step in, to save his brother's sanity. "Are you here to help us?"

"I'm here to bully you, yes."

"I won't let you," Cel said quietly.

"Suit yourself."

Cel paused, suddenly feeling like he had missed something important. Was Riku actually offering to help? Were they supposed to pretend the first part of the sentence didn't exist? Or did Riku mean exactly what he was saying? Now here, Cel was slightly more familiar. Riku had played similar mind games with his enemies in some of his videos.

"Can you be more specific?"

"No."

"Can you be more specific please?"

"Yes."

"Can you please tell us if you are here to help us or not?"

"Yes."

"Please tell us if you are here to help us or not."

"I am here to bully you, yes."

Throughout the exchange Dish was growing more and more infuriated. Before he could explode, Cel spoke up.

"He's here to help. I think. I'm not one hundred per cent sure…"

Whether they should accept it was another discussion entirely. Cel began to shake involuntarily, as he remembered the night he fought Riku. Remembered how much it hurt. He tightened his fists in an effort to contain it.

Dish sneered at Riku. "Yeah well, you can't be trusted now. It's that simple."

Cel nodded, glaring at the older Saiyan. "I agree."

"That's true," Lery said.

Riku did not respond, eyes roving over his screen as the number of blipping sounds went through the roof.

"Now that I think about it, where did he get that tablet?" Broc wondered.

Cel blinked as the thought occurred to him as well. Where had Riku gotten that tablet?

He glanced at Dish to signal that something was off and thankfully the elder Saiyan child picked it up quickly enough.

"Where did you get that tablet?" Dish asked. "You've been up to things haven't you?"

"I murdered someone. I'm never idle."

It was so casual that it took Cel a second to realize what Riku had just admitted doing.

"Who did you attack?" Dish asked, curious now.

Riku looked up once more, his expression disturbingly blank, as he snapped the tablet in half.

"I killed a person looking for Saiyan Program subjects two, three, four-"

Dish hissed involuntarily. Cel felt his knees weaken.

"-and honestly I'm not inclined to list all 17 of you, I don't have that kind of time or the energy."

Riku stood up. "I came to train you. I can and will change my mind depending on how hopeless you appear to be. Decide quickly. I broke my tablet and I don't like being idle."

This sparked a debate between Broc and Lery that Cel could not help but wince at the volume of. He had his own thoughts and feelings on the issue. The debate ran for about a minute or two before Dish said, "Sure."

"WHAT?!"

This time Cel flat out cringed and held a hand up to his right ear.

"But first you have to prove that you're actually here to help us," Dish continued. "Otherwise we're done here."

Riku seemed to think for a second. "I refuse to do your thinking for you."

Dish opened his mouth, "That's not-"

Riku kept talking as if nothing was amiss. "You should know your enemies best. In what way could they use me or in what way could you be useful to me? I still have your ship mind you. I can still leave. By erasing the guy sent to track my signals, there is nothing in my way, for now anyway. You tell me, what proves that I am here to 'help' as you call it?"

Cel could hear Broc thinking intensely about the question.

"To be very honest, the only things the Big Brain could want would be to kidnap us or to kill all of us," he said.

"Riku's been here for a while now," Lery noted.

"Yeah, so if he was leading them here they should be here already," Broc said. "And if they sent him to kill us he's had a good chance sitting right in front of him for a while. Well, not that he can beat you Cel…"

Cel listened to this analysis and stared at Riku once again. He wanted to point this out to Dish. Another part of him remembered how Riku had looked at him and rejected him and rebelled against the idea. He wanted to reject Riku in return, to push him away. So Cel said nothing.

"I think he's clean Cel," Broc said.

Cel did not acknowledge the statement.

"Cel?" Lery this time. Concerned.

"Fine," Dish said eventually. "You can stay."

Cel couldn't help but clench his fist.

Riku clapped, suddenly all smiles. "Great."

Dish gave him a suspicious look but grudgingly let it go. "Alright come on."

[In a Canteena]

It was hot on this desert planet and the pilots were pleased to finally have somewhere cool to rest while they waited for the rest of the crew to finish their part of the job. The room was made of brown stone, but had square holes in the walls that functioned as windows. Here and there at various tables, various people were seated, nursing drinks and having quiet conversations and some not so quiet ones.

Both pilots walked up to the bar and sat at its stools. In a moment the barman was with them with a raised… neither were sure if that was an eyebrow or not. All they saw was that in the mass of green skin that was the bar tender, a particular part where there would be an eye on a humanoid had risen into the air.

"Black Vera," ordered the first pilot.

"Same," said the other.

The bar man nodded and seemed to glide over to the drinks stored in the massive cabinet behind him. The reason why became obvious from this close. He lower half was entirely swallowed up by one of those fancy floating pods, like what Frieza was often seen in.

The two were served a very cold, black liquid in massive glass mugs. Mist curled off the sides of the glass. Both pilots took a swig, before one let out a satisfied sigh while the other looked around the room. He found some of the patrons interesting, but made sure to avoid prolonged staring. That was asking for trouble. He could see some potential troublesome individuals around the room: a bipedal porcupine, glaring around the room every now and then, some red-skinned guy with a lot of weapons having a meal and, in the corner booth, some girl with two midgets looking dejected about something or other. All those would be a time sink in some way shape or form if he managed to get their attention, some more damaging than others.

"How long do you think they'll take?"

The pilot turned round to face his partner. "Who knows? We've never tried to work with the other Warlords before."

Neither acknowledged the fact that their men might not return. They were supposed to wait three days at the most.

His partner sighed. "This job is getting dangerous."

He couldn't help grinning. "Wanna quit?"

"Nah, money's too good."

"Then what are you whining for?" he chided, bumping his partners shoulder.

His partner leaned in close. "Tangling with Frieza is never a good idea you know that. Especially when those Saiyans got him all riled up."

"Yeah well," the pilot replied. "From here is Shiva, you want to bet on a match between her and Frieza?"

His partner shivered. "That woman is pure evil. I heard she raided one of Frieza's prisons. Mad. Utterly mad I tell you."

"Yeah that she is. You think he's caught any of the guys he's after? Didn't Vegeta have a squad?"

"He might've. He's definitely going to want to torture them some."

The two stayed in the bar until they received the call. Mission success, and no one died. They sat up and walked out after paying. It was late by then and where they had complained of heat, now there was only cold. A lot of cold. The small town they were in was painted in hues of pale blue and white, courtesy of the nearby moon.

As, the two walked through the various, small square shaped buildings they were suddenly blindsided by something, moving so fast they couldn't see it. They whipped out their guns, only to find that they were on a rooftop in a part of town they did not recognize in any way whatsoever.

In front of them was the girl from the bar, the one who'd been sitting in the corner. She was seated on the raised edge of the roof, facing them. Her two midgets appeared next to her, as if out of thin air.

"What the-"

The pilot finally recognized her. Brown skin, curly grey and black hair, black eyes and of course the monkey tail just barely moving beneath the brown sack-cloth covering she was wearing.

"You're-!"

"I'm looking for someone," she interrupted. "You guys sound like you know a lot."

The pilots glanced at each other, very familiar with the sort of reputation the Saiyan Army had gathered for themselves.

Naya stood up, and leveled a serious gaze upon them both. "What was that about prisons?"

[Frieza Planet X-05, Medical Base]

It was lunch time and everyone was seated in the cafeteria, including the little devils that comprised the younger members of the Saiyan program. Little children, ranging from five to three years old were all whispering among one another, every now and then looking to their Queen, Coli, for guidance. Unfortunately it was guidance that was not forthcoming, given she was just as clueless as they were. She could only stare at the individual that had seated himself on a stool at what would be the head of the table, flanked on either side by Cel, Lery and Coli on his right and Dish and Broc on his left.

If Riku noticed all the attention he was getting, and the sudden squeeze that seemed to have appeared between the children further down the benches on either side of him he gave no indication. Indeed he seemed rather distracted, looking every which way and smiling faintly to himself now and again.

Finally, Lery couldn't take it anymore.

She stood up, seething. "Your food has been in front of you for twenty minutes. Eat it already and get out!"

"You call this food woman?"

"Hmmmph! This ain't half bad."

Lery resisted the urge to tear her hair out. "If anyone else, does a character impression of Vegeta or Nappa, or anyone else I will toss you in the laser room!"

A tiny hand was raised.

"WHAT?"

"That guy looks like Riku."

"I can assure you that I am not Riku," said Riku.

The five eldest children turned to look at him. The younger ones took the opportunity to push their luck.

"Well who are you?" asked one child.

"You look awfully like him," said another.

And they were all off talking over each other and sharing theories without really waiting to hear what he had to say.

"SHUT UP!" Coli screamed.

There was instant silence.

"Now, Mister," she said, after composing herself. "You look very familiar. Who are you?"

"I am Duck," Riku replied.

Coli scrunched up her face in confusion. Riku seemed delighted by this.

"Are you saying you're a duck then?" asked one brave child.

Coli's glare, however, could cow the mightiest of them all and so it did.

"I am," said Riku.

Coli's jaw dropped. Cel looked slightly tense as he had since Riku arrived, Dish rolled his eyes, Broc snorted and Lery simply stood where she was, stunned.

"You can't actually expect us to believe that do you?"

"Yeah," one more child chimed in. "Ducks have wings."

Riku smiled and placed his palms together to mimic having wings.

"That's not it! They can fly too."

Riku's smile grew wider as he levitated slightly above the table.

"They have feathers!"

"I have feathers." Riku pointed to his clothes.

"Those are clothes, not feathers!"

"They're my feathers," Riku insisted. "Feathers just cover the duck's body. Clothes cover my body. I have wings and I can fly."

They all devolved into an argument about whether what he was saying was true or not and that he could be a duck with clothes for feathers.

"I know what we can ask him," said one intellectual. "Ducks have beaks. So where is his beak?"

Riku used his hands once again to mimic having a beak.

"Your hands can't be your wings and your beak!"

Riku cocked his head innocently. "What hands? I'm a duck."

[With the Pilots]

"What's it to you?" his partner asked.

The pilot stared at Naya in favor of chastising his partner's smart mouth. She looked horrible, with bags under her eyes and frazzled hair. She was a lot smaller than he'd expected her to be. Seeing her in such horrible condition made him wonder how much of the stories about Frieza's Army was just hype. Well they would find out soon enough.

She had clearly taken an interest in the prison heist discussion because she worked for Frieza. Unfortunately for her they were loyal to the boss. Even she would not get anything from them, so long as they had a say in how things went.

He reached behind him and clicked the emergency comm attached to his belt.

"Like I said, I'm looking for someone," Naya repeated, sounding slightly irritated.

"You work for Frieza, don't you?" the pilot asked. "Why don't you go visit the prisons and find out?"

Naya frowned. "It only just occurred to me that he could be in prison when I heard you discussing it."

He and his partner flinched. That it was their fault would not go down well with the Boss.

"Which prisons did Shiva raid and what did she take?"

Damn. She's shaking us down! What's taking them so long?

"Look, we don't know much ok," the pilot said. "Shiva only targets males for what it's worth. So in every raid you can be sure that besides money and other resources, she'll take any strong males with her."

Naya gained a distracted, thoughtful look as she absorbed this information. She glanced at her two midget friends.

"What do you guys think? We've been bouncing between planets for so long and we never checked any prisons."

"There could be merit to that idea," one responded.

"Uh-huh," the other agreed.

The pilot's partner sent him a look indicating that the others were here and in position. Finally!

"That's that then," Naya decided.

Before she could do anything several plasma blasts converged on her position. There was an explosion that rattled the entire building they were on. Shouts penetrated the air as people noticed the commotion. The pilot and his partner immediately drew their own plasma guns, placing their comms against their ears. They trained their weapons in the middle of the smoke that enveloped the point where Naya was.

"She down?"

"We're checking," his partner responded.

"Juzo is on his way to back you up"

"Noted," said the pilot. The smoke was blown away by a gust of wind revealing a giant hole in the roof.

"Must've fallen through," the pilot observed as he walked as close to the edge as he could.

There was someone crying there.

"Mama!Mama!"

He did his best to ignore it, did his best to ignore that using plasma cannons was overkill on his team's part.

"Confirmed the body yet?"

"Negative," he replied. "Roof caved in."

Down below was mayhem. People rushing around trying to make sense of what had happened or was happening.

"Well-Argh!"

The pilot froze. "What? What's happening?"

"She's-Ugh!"

Multiple voices began to scream and promptly cut off.

One, two, three four…

"Yargh!"

Five.

That was the entire team but one. She had help? How were they taking them out so fast?

The air seemed to blur and Naya was back in front of them.

"Shit!" his partner yelled.

They both staggered back in surprise. The pilot barely managed to keep his grip on his gun.

He noted with some trepidation that there was blood on her cheek and it wasn't hers. Realization dawned.

It was not hype. It was not hype at all.

Her expression was dark, so dark. The pilot could feel himself going weak in the knees.

This isn't even one of their big guns! Shitshitshitshitshitshit-

"Coordinates," she said. "Give me coordinates of all the prisons."

"They won't give you anything."

She turned only to be slammed with a giant golden, jet boosted fist. Behind that fist was Juzo, grey robes aflutter from the reprisal of his own attack. He stared in shock when he realized he could still feel resistance beneath his fist.

He grit his teeth and clicked an internal button from within his mechanized fist. The jet boosters doubled the output.

Even in the midst of all the bright yellow flames, the pilot could see Naya braced against the attack with a single arm.

That arm is built off of space engine design…

They had stolen it in one particularly interesting raid and Juzo had claimed it. Everyone thought he was suicidal, but Juzo against all odds was still alive. He fought smart with that thing and he was a beast in his own right. It helped that his race had some respectable durability. That meant nothing here.

The pilot fell to his knees.

"Dammit!" Juzo went for max output. Flames exploded from the rear end of the Golden Golve.

Naya's other fist collided solidly with Juzo's face. There was a thunderclap and Juzo was smashed straight through three buildings.

Naya wiped the soot off her forearm. The blood covering her hand just made it look like dark, wet, red sand. Juzo's blood.

She looked at them once more. "Well?"

[Frieza Planet X-05, Medical Base]

Broc liked to work with computers. Computer screens could not express emotion. Whenever they encountered a problem, they could only display a message, describing the depth of their confusion.

ERROR! ERROR! DOES NOT COMPUTE! DOES NOT COMPUTE!

And when confusion became too great, when you managed to turn the system on itself, the computer would give up and crash, sometimes, never to start up again. That was the sort of logical devastation Broc witnessed at lunch today. 12 little faces, each a living embodiment of a critical error. Broc would swear he could see steam coming off some heads.

Broc looked up at the cause of the disaster walking beside him as he escorted it to what would be its room.

Is it really a disaster if he got them to shut up?

The younger Saiyans could be a handful, by virtue of the fact that they had been made towards the end of the Program and had not gone through much in the way of testing. Controlling them was always an exercise in force and patience, something Lery could only barely manage despite being in charge of them all.

Broc stopped at one of the captain's rooms. "This will be your room."

Riku didn't respond. Broc turned just in time to see Riku's hand descending toward his shoulder.

"What's your name?"

Broc tried to calm his rapidly beating heart. I thought he was about to attack me.

"I'm Broc," he said eventually, letting out a breath that hopefully didn't sound too relieved.

Riku nodded. "Thanks. Let me know when golden boy and the tough guy are training would you?"

"You're not going to decide when to meet?"

Riku shook his head. "I only just showed up today. I'm sure they have plans. I'll just observe for the most part. Training starts tomorrow."

"I-I'll inform them then," Broc stammered.

Riku nodded. "Thanks."

He took the keycard hanging next to the door, swiped it on the reader below it and walked into the room.

Broc took a moment to catch his breath before leaving. If Dish saw how ruffled he was or how he let his guard down he'd be all over him.

[Riku's Room]

I examined the room. It was nothing fancy. Dark red walls, a lighter red carpet and a little padded alcove at the back that was obviously for sleeping. There was a desk to my immediate right with legs that were half=spheres of some metal or other and a chair of similar design. Both had red tops.

Lots of red. I like it.

I pulled the chair away from the desk and sat on it, resting my head in my hands. I was so tired. I sighed and sat back in the chair, thinking about how I would move forward from here. I'd dealt with the guy who had been sent to track the ship's signals but now whoever sent them would know something was up. I probably had a limited time frame in which to train these kids. I decided not to dwell too much on that, considering I had no idea what they could do.

Instead, my thoughts turned toward one of my main concerns. My relationships, so to speak. Naya was off in space, doing who knows what. I knew that and it was a cause for worry. But there was more… I'd had time to think while gathering information. Where was Seph? I had no clue. Was he even okay? What about Nappa and Raditz? Now that I had learned of the Dragon Balls was it a good idea to revive them too? Would that just make things worse? Or on the other hand, what did that matter? Why couldn't I just revive them and let them be? Except with that sort of logic, why revive them at all? Who was I to decide?

I took a deep breath and stood back up. No point stressing about it now. I'd have enough hurdles here as it is. At least, if the poorly concealed distrust was any indicator.

I rather liked the tough guy's honesty.

[Solar Room]

About an hour after lunch Coli marched over to the Solar Room where she knew Dish and Cel would be training. She usually would not join in due to spending most of her time keeping the other kids under control, however Riku's duck clone would be there too and she had questions. Dish and Cel stopped fighting to look at her. She kept walking though, heading toward the guy seated on the floor a fair distance from the battle.

When he saw her coming he raised an eyebrow.

She stopped in front of him. "You are Riku aren't you?"

He smiled in faint confusion. "I thought we all agreed I was a duck."

She sniffed. "I'm eight you know. Tricks like that don't work on me."

"I see," he said seeming amused. "Hypothetically, if I agreed I was Riku what would you want from me?"

Coli huffed. He was still playing that stupid game.

"I want to know what Prince Vegeta is like," she said imperiously. "You were on his team."

Riku's smirk disappeared to be replaced with an almost pensive expression. His eyes flicked over her shoulder where she suspected her brothers were doing a poor job of eavesdropping.

"I have known many Vegeta's," Riku said eventually. "Of all of them, I've yet to meet one I would call royalty."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Riku patted her on the head. "Don't worry about it."

"You can't just do that!"

"You look like an angry muffin."

"I DO NOT!"

[Earth]

Vegeta lay quietly on his bed. The woman was absent thankfully. It was late, from what he could tell through the windows in the room.

After his attempted escape backfired he'd done nothing but lie on this bed trying to find a way to make a comeback. To reason out some way that he, Vegeta, could still be the best and strongest. The one Saiyan worthy to lead. The Prince of a strong royal line. His failure to escape did nothing but rub salt in the wound, every moment he lay in this bed, a reminder that he was not the strongest. It reminded him of the child who put him here and his body's inability to access his power without crumbling under the strain was a reminder of the extent of his injury.

And all he did was read books.

Vegeta had watched. Oh he had watched. So carefully. So painstakingly. Every day. From a distance and sometimes closer. The boy saw him sometimes. He had even waved once.

What stupidity!

He was weaker than that?!

Vegeta flinched as he instinctively reigned his power in before he knocked himself out again. He was confronted now with a painful truth.

Super Saiyan was hereditary. There was no other explanation for how the boy achieved the form when he had done no training. He was not a warrior anywhere near Vegeta's skill, power or experience. It stood to reason then, that those things didn't matter. The boy was no royalty, but clearly that didn't matter either. He had spent the entirety of his time since Namek running chores for his mother or studying. He never trained. Training therefore, mattered little if at all.

The picture assembled before Vegeta was a painful one to look upon. There was no secret here. Indeed, Kakarot's lifestyle only served to show exactly why he had been so much weaker than even Raditz when they had first taken note of the Planet Earth. Compared to the battlefields Vegeta had been roaming since he could walk, Earth was a playground.

Yet he is the Super Saiyan.

It meant that the legendary warrior was indeed determined by genetics, if not fate. Kakarot, for all that he was low class trash, may have been descended from the warrior of old and that power had lain dormant within his line just looking for the right push to reveal itself. In a sense, therefore, it seemed that Kakarot was sup…. superi….

Vegeta gritted his teeth and turned into his pillow. Even in his head he couldn't admit it.

A legendary warrior. In a society of proud warriors what was mere royalty compared with that? Royalty and power went hand in hand. All Saiyans knew this. What this said about Vegeta and his own family…

Damn you Kakarot!

[Frieza Planet X-05, Solar Room]

The next morning, I had the kids all lined up in front of me. I had seen enough yesterday and hooo boy… I had a lot of work to do. I was also particularly irritable since it was early and I liked my mornings quiet.

"Why are you still wrapped in a blanket?" one of them asked. "Do you really want to be here man?"

"Glasses-"

"My name is Broc-"

"-do not question my preparedness."

The girl next to him raised her hand. "Why am I here? I'm not a fighter. Cel and Dish are the ones with the strength to have a realistic chance of doing what we need. I can run support."

"You are hanging around a battle," I said. "If you associate with them, you will continue to hang around battles. Think about it and do not ask me again."

"That doesn't apply to me," Broc cut in. "I manage tech and gear. I'll be a long way away."

I gave him a pointed look.

"What?"

"I will deal with your particular brand of stupidity later," I told him.

He glared at me.

"You should let them go," Tough Guy said. "They'll just get in the way."

"Believe what you wish," I told him. "I am the teacher here and I say they're here. End of discussion."

He scowled but I noticed a certain curiousity from the girl and grudging obeisance from Broc.

"Can't believe Coli actually listened to him and forced us here," he muttered.

"Your names," I said, ignoring that comment. "I keep forgetting them."

"Lery."

"Broc."

"Dish."

"….Cel."

I glanced at the boy who had spoken last. He would be problematic.

"Good, one thing you will need to understand about me," I told them. "I may be lax and fool around a lot… but business is business. If I say jump you do it and do not waste my time with stupid questions. If you cannot do basic risk assessment on your own when confronted with a suggestion you deserve to die. Any questions?"

No one said anything.

"Good. So I got a list of tasks for you all to perform not just for my sake but for yours also."

I got a few curious looks but ignored them.

"First," I said.

I pulled one hand free of my blanket cocoon and held out a ball of chi.

"Can any of you sense this?"

"Sense?"

"Just answer the question," I barked, knowing already it was a lost cause.

They all shook their heads.

I let the ball flicker into nothingness and held out my hand, summoning several pencils from the pockets of the red robes I'd slept in.

"Snatch a pencil from me. Do not break them."

The first of them made some gentle first attempts but on finding my hand was suddenly in a new position whenever they made an attempt they stepped up their game. Every single one of them broke a pencil except the girl, Lery. Tough guy was looking very displeased by his failure. The one known as Cel looked mostly confused but wary of me.

"What are these games-" Tough Guy began.

I held out my hand once again, creating a yellow ball of chi once more. "Destroy this with a blast of your own. It must be the same size."

The girl tried and her blast simply melted around my own like ash.

"That's not fair. You're using a trick of some kind," Broc said. "The amount of energy you're asking us to use is too small to do anything."

"Take your shot, Lord of the Lenses. This is not a debate club."

He grimaced and took his turn. He failed. So did the other two.

How have these people survived until now?

"Who can fly?" I asked.

Finally proud of being able to do something, Tough Guy snorted with a smug look.

"I do not speak pig."

He growled and was held back only by Glasses and Cel, surprisingly.

"Use your words," I warned him. "Now… demonstrate for me."

He proceeded to take to the air. Any hope at all I had was dashed at that point. He flew like he was suspended on a ruler. Straight lines. Few curves, minimal rotation. His flying was… passable in the sense that he was off the ground and he was moving around.

Not unlike how I flew when I was first introduced truth be told…

"Enough. My eyes are threatening tears if I watch this any longer."

He snarled and dove at me only to be intercepted by the other two boys once more.

"Actually I have a question," said Glasses when they finally let Tough guy go.

"Ask."

"Isn't flying in combat a bad idea? The physics-"

"Once I teach you to fly, you will understand."

He went quiet, grumbling that I wouldn't even let him finish.

"Final exercise," I announced. "You will step forward from left to right and demonstrate what fighting skills you possess."

A hand was raised.

"No I am not going to fight you."

The hand dropped.

"Why scared?" asked Tough Guy, with a smirk.

I couldn't help grinning. This little shit thinks he can take me? Because Cel beat me?

"Such confidence," I said, smiling even wider.

I could see fear and a slight discomfort on his face. He hid it well though. The rest were visibly worried by my expression.

"You know what? You and I will go a round after everyone else is done," I informed him, the smile never leaving my face. "Feel free to warm up."

"Ok so you. Letty-"

"Lery."

"Show me what you got."

She came up and stood awkwardly in front of me for a few minutes. I said nothing. Gave her nothing. She just stood there some more. Eventually, when the awkwardness was getting painful she threw out a few blows. Weak, poor form, more likely to annoy than to do damage.

"Enemy behind you," I said.

She stumbled in response.

I nodded. "Next."

She turned away blushing furiously and walked back to her spot in the line.

Glasses came up next. He had a much better idea of what to do than she did. That much was obvious from the start. His execution however, was exceedingly poor.

"Enemy behind you."

He lashed out behind him with a bad kick.

I waited a second before saying, "Blocked. Follow up. Your Left."

His response was nowhere near as quick and significantly weaker. He hadn't planned that far.

"Next."

Cel came next. He began to move through some attacks and defensive motions that were so obviously copied it was sad to look at. They were all so poorly done. A crook in the elbow here that would hamper delivery. A twist of the foot there that made the force go the wrong way.

I didn't bother asking him to defend.

"Those videos you guys supposedly have access to," I said, after gesturing for him to stop. "Stop watching them."

"Why?" Glasses asked.

I looked over at Tough Guy who was done stretching. Had been done stretching for a while in fact.

"You'll see it for yourself," I answered.

He glared at me and spread his feet in a very familiar stance. One hand to his side, the other in front of his face.

I wrapped my blanket around myself more tightly.

"You're going to fight like that?" he said.

"Why? Scared?"

He scowled and leaped at me. I sidestepped it. He wheeled around in mid-air and threw a kick my way. I stepped back. He shot toward me, coming in low with one hand at his waist. I stepped to his left. Before he could reposition I placed a fist against the side of his head.

"That's your balance compromised," I told him. "And a few more important things if I felt so inclined."

He whirled in anger and lashed out wildly. I moved away from him, letting him throw all his blows. While he was in the middle of a punch, I placed my fist upon his nose, interrupting him.

"That's your breathing disrupted," I told him. "I hope you realize the only reason I'm on the defensive is because I'm too lazy to actually attack you."

He let out a cry of rage and knocked me back with a burst of pure force. I skidded backwards, keeping my footing.

"Forceful not damaging," I informed him.

He began firing a storm of ki blasts. I lifted a palm up and deflected them with kiai in regular pulses. Because that move was copied too. Right down to a distinctive rhythm.

And here's the follow up.

Dish was surrounded by yellow energy, hands held behind him as he charged his finisher. He fired the beam at me.

I kicked back at the ground, bursting forward and twisting just enough to sail effortlessly past the beam I'd seen coming from a mile away. I reached out, caught his face and slammed him into the ground head first.

He was stunned. I ignored the horrified looks on the other kids faces and let him go, placing my hand back within the folds of my blanket. They all immediately rushed to his side, glaring at me even as they gave him looks of concern and asked him if he was okay.

"This first lesson should have shown you where you truly stand on a battlefield," I said, looking at each of them in turn. "Your basics are non-existent, your tactics are laughable and your movements are malfunctioning copies of circumstantial execution that only really worked in one situation and no other."

I glanced at Broc. "This is why I say stop watching those videos. Everything you know is worthless."

I looked at Tough Guy who was doing better, but still unable to get to his feet. "We are starting from the basics. No exceptions."

"We don't have time for that." It was Cel speaking this time.

"It speaks. And why pray tell do you not have time?"

"You haven't earned our trust like that," Tough Guy said eventually.

"The fact that you suck does not care whether you trust me or not."

I saw anger on the Tough Guys face. Not mere frustration with my insults and dismissive attitude, but true anger.

He stood up and moved toward me-

"You think we don't know that?!"

I stared at Cel, the source of the outburst. The other three looked at him in shock. Tough Guy's was less pronounced, naturally but the shock was there.

He must not lose his temper often…

"We're working with what we have! Or is that not enough for the Great Riku huh?" Cel snapped. "Or do you not care about that too?"

He looked remarkably… nice… even though he was mad. It was like he had one of those default friendly faces. Always nice, whether he was smiling or not. Black eyes, messy black hair and pale skin. Not quite as pale as Glasses but definitely pale.

"Then what do you propose?" I asked him.

He seemed caught off balance by the fact that I was asking for a suggestion and started fumbling.

"Raise our power levels," said Glasses, Broc if I was remembering correctly. "If we're strong enough it won't matter how bad we are at fighting. Power levels are usually the deciding factor in fights."

"Your assumption is wrong. Your suggestion is stupid. Do you require another demonstration?"

Glasses frowned. "Another?"

"Do you honestly think I used the same amount of power as Disc-"

"His name is Dish," said the girl.

"-over there?"

"I don't have a scouter so I wouldn't-"

"There you go. How do you, the clueless student, unaware of how clueless you even are, presume to make suggestions to me?" I said, ignoring the look on his face. "Surely it would be wiser for you to gather some idea of what truly goes into a battle before you try to bless me with wisdom you don't have?"

They all fell silent.

I nodded. "Take today to rest. From tomorrow we will meet three times daily."

Tough Guy looked like he wanted to object but remained silent.

"Mornings will be training, Afternoons will be spars and evenings will be a nice calm chat. Maybe. I'm still thinking about it."

I could reassure them of course. I'm aware of this. I could try to sell them on the importance of basics and the usefulness of skill in the utilization of power, arguing back and forth and handling all their misgivings and trying to, overall, be a helpful, trustworthy guy.

I turned away from them and walked toward the door. "You're dismissed."

Perhaps that was the nice thing to do. Providing them with the information laid out in manner they could accept.

I have never claimed to be a nice person.


AN: AHAHA AHAHHA

I am now fairly certain that if you didn't hate Riku already. You hate him now. Maybe. I dunno. Ok so maybe I'm not so certain. I'm already working on the next chapter.

Also does Vegeta strike you as a wuss here? Writing that believably was kinda hard so lemme know. Might adjust it, if I decide it bothers me. Maybe. Don't hold me to standards here ok, I do this for practice and the lulz.

Incidentally, I might post other stories at some point that aren't necessarily DBZ. What was that? But I already have a ridiculously erratic upload schedule?

Well, allow me to put you at ease. I am writing a number of original stories that I have no idea what I will do with when I am done with the cancerous journey of writing out something that flows, makes sense, is entertaining and interesting. I have been writing other fiction since forever and I'm just not posting them so tbh this complaint is *does math* about 10 years too late. I probably wouldn't have listened to you either.

Yeah I know I suck. Take care of yourselves XD.