Parable of the Eagle Chapter 4: Crush, Burn, Cut, Polish, a dragon ball z fanfic

Disclaimer:

"So, Sage, what are we going to do tonight?"

"The same thing we do every night, Ann. Try to take advantage of Akira Toriyama's characters and torture them while taking over the world!!"

They're Ann, they're Ann and the Sage, Sage, Sage….

Angst and Cliffhangers present…

An Evil Authoresses Production....

Parable of the Eagle

Chapter 3: Crush, Burn, Cut, Polish

The blue eyed petite girl should have known that with a man like Vegeta, training started immediately. No more than five minutes after the Earth had went off screen did her would-be mentor set the ship on auto-pilot. At least she surmised as much—she couldn't read a single letter from the controls. What language was it? And shouldn't she be freaked out that she was in space with a man that could fly and shoot beams out from his hands? She had briefly scanned her inner-self for a hint of apprehension.

Nope. That's a negative, Ma'am.

Maybe the shock just hadn't settled in yet. Or maybe she now had a goal to strive for and nothing else could even remotely dent her determination. Whatever it was, it would help her to survive the years to come.

Vegeta had given her a look and for some reason she immediately knew that it meant for her to follow him. So she did, going back to the main lobby and through another different corridor into a large empty room. The doors swished shut ominously behind her and she stood ready to give it her all.

Vegeta eyed the lithe figure before him like a slab of useless clay waiting to be molded. For that's what she really was, wasn't she? Useless. Un-polished. Even so, ready to bend to his every will. This human—just how much could she really endure? If even with his teachings would she to remain useless… he would get rid of her. Simple.

If she couldn't survive this first day of instruction she would die by his hands.

"You are weak and pathetic—probably always will be," Vegeta sneered, watching as the girl's eyes narrowed and her teeth clench tightly, "however, you could have power only few of your race could ever achieve."

"My—race?" She whispered mostly to herself, catching the way Vegeta had emphasized it was hers and not his.

"Don't question me unless I command you to. You will only know what I deem is required. Do what I tell you to do. You understand?" She frowned but nodded none-the-less. Vegeta's face light up in dark glee, satisfied that for once in a long time someone actually listened to him as a subordinate should. Back on Earth he had trouble even intimidating a blue-haired wo—stop thinking about her. "Your first lesson will be learning to do this."

With that, Vegeta raised a palm and a white ball of energy formed, hovering like a giant fire-fly. Videl stared at the sphere, entranced by its intense glow and the fact that it came out from nowhere. It pulsed with gentle yet dangerous light; she could almost feel the humming of power. Her stare was roughly cut off as Vegeta snapped his palm shut, extinguishing the ball in a burst. "It is called ki. An energy found in every living being. It can be used to boost strength and speed, to attack and defend. Its flexibility lies solely on the imagination and control of its manipulator."

The girl raised her hands and stared at them, in awe that such a thing even existed. She lowered her arms and looked up back at him, eager to learn more. Vegeta continued, a smirk ever so slowly forming on his regal features, "There are many ways to find and bring out this ki from within. Though, I have no patience to wait more than a day for you to waste time getting hold of such basics. If within a few hours you don't succeed in bringing it out—quite frankly I'm getting rid of you."

Her jaw dropped but she quickly closed it again, a sudden rush of nervousness coming over her. Could she do it? Manage to pull off something she never even heard of before? Get rid of—he's going to kill her? Great. Just great, what kind of mess had she gotten herself into? More importantly, why didn't she care?

"Then show me how," she replied confidently, "If it really is as simple and basic as you said it is, then maybe I really don't deserve to live if I can't figure it out by the end of the day."

"You will, child, or die trying."

Then without warning, Vegeta raised an arm and blasted her.

It was like being slammed with a tree trunk while at the same time being burned and electrocuted. The ki ball impacted her squarely on her chest and sent her small body flying back to crash violently against the GR's walls with a loud smack. Too surprised by the pain, and having the wind knocked out of her, she couldn't even manage a decent shout and ended up wheezing and gasping. Every pore burned with pain, as if molten lava was coursing through her veins and cooking her insides. It was on will alone that she was able to push herself up onto her knees, aware of Vegeta's insouciant eyes.

"Ki attacks not only affect the physical body with external damage, but also affect the opponent's ki as well. Like conflicting radio waves that cause interference with one another," Vegeta paused his lecture to eye the trembling girl. There was no sign of tears or internal bleeding, yet he could tell his blast was just a tad too powerful for her—nah. "Did you feel it, girl? Where your ki lies?"

By birth Saiyan children are already insanely strong in potential ki. Even so, when it came to ki training, additional instruction was still needed. The Saiyan 'trainers' knew little of verbal coaching and even less patience. Vegeta himself was still hardly old enough to stand properly before being ki blasted continuously till he "found" the well of energy deep within. It'll be amusing to see if the girl could stand up to the lowest Saiyan standards. Unknown to him, he would get a very big surprise.

"Fe-e-eel…?" She gasped, just barely catching the man's words over the pounding in her ears. All she could feel was pain. And she was supposed to feel where her ki was? Where it was damaged? How? Her whole body was on fire—she could hardly even feel her limbs individually. Blinking the red dots out from her vision, she waited till the boiling sensations in her chest lessened enough for her brain to work once more.

Other than the pain—no—the pain itself. She was supposed to feel specific pain, wasn't she? Something he had said about "interference", that her ki should be reacting to his attack. Like pain in her legs meant that her legs were there, pain in her arms tested to the fact her arms were present—she would need to find the pain in her ki to know where it was. She hadn't been prepared though, she couldn't tell the difference. That meant…

But it had hurt. It had hurt more than anything else. Suddenly she wanted no more than to beg the man to return her to Earth. She didn't want to get blasted again; having the combined agony of being burned and electrocuted inside out. She didn't want to feel the way her muscles had spasm under the foreign energy, so much that it felt like they would tear themselves from her bones. Anything—anything but that…

I don't want to feel it again, please, I don't want to.

However, she found herself rising to her feet and turning determined—and, she believed, scared—deep blue orbs up at the silent man. Her mouth opened and the words bubbled up with less difficultly than she had expected, her cheek still twitching slightly from the blast. Once she said the words, she regretted them—they sounded like the command for her execution, echoing with finality in the bland white room. But the words were already said, and it hung heavily—leaving a sour taste in her mouth.

"Do it again." Three words she wished she could retract.

Vegeta seemed almost amused before raising his arm once again. Fear and self-preservation prevailed at the sight and she nearly screamed for mercy. The blast—less intense and smaller—once again slammed into her already battered frame. This time though, she focused on the pain that wasn't physical.

It still hurt like hell, that was a given, but underneath the sensation of her flesh recoiling from the shock…. Amazingly, she could feel it. Something different—a pain not really tangible and not really even "pain". More like a buzz, a frizzled feeling like after getting electrocuted—familiar since it wasn't seldom she felt the claws of electricity tearing through her body whenever some punk decide to attack her with a stun gun. This however, being ki blasted, went deeper. She could almost pin point it, the feeling, somewhere there in her center, she could almost tou—it's gone. The feeling went as quickly as it came, almost erasing itself from her memory in a blink.

She was so close! It was like opening the doors to a world where all her dreams of power could be fulfilled! No, she couldn't stop there! Vegeta promised power and strength, and she would get it no matter what! She'll be damned if she would ever be weak again.

"A-again!" she hoarsely cried, pushing the word through clenched teeth as quickly as she could—less she chicken out from the expected torture once more. It came no second later, throwing her body back against the walls, but she paid no attention.

She found it.

A warmth; a place deep inside that felt like a endless well of inner strength. The discovery seemed to open closed gates and the locks broke away. It was now available like any of her other limbs, ready to be polished, to be used.

Vegeta almost scoffed when the girl raised a trembling arm. Did the child think she would get it so quickly? Certainly it was not even comparable to third class standards, but to find such little ki in three blasts was downright admirable considering her age, gender, and race… That explained pretty much why Vegeta's eyebrow rose when a small white ball flickered to life in her palm.

The brat did it. The female brat actually did it. And in less than fifteen minutes.

The warm glowing sphere hovered for two seconds before it flickered away and the girl pitched forward flat on her face in a dead faint. A dull crack and a thin trail of blood flowing under her face testified that she broke her nose on impact. Even with the ungraceful closing, Vegeta was thankful. If she was still conscious, he feared he might find himself giving the girl an encomium about her relatively satisfactory performance.

Picking her up by the back of her collar, he effortlessly lifted her to the medical ward. He all but threw her limp body onto the bed in the corner and left to train. Hours later, a hesitant Videl would approach him back in the GR. Vegeta gruffly ordered her to clean up and train her ki alone since she found it already. Three weeks later they would be arriving at the fueling port—and until then, Vegeta would have nothing to do with her unless she's hovering four feet off the ground.

After five days, the human girl floated to look Vegeta in the eye. Smirking, the adult Saiyan proceeded to train her in the basics of ki attacks. She had proven her initial worth, now it was a matter of keeping her standard up to his liking.

For the first time in her life, Videl wished to have eight independently moving eyes like the alien that had just passed her. There was simply too much to see, too much to take in. The "rest stop" of F-209 wasn't crowded in any sense of the word, but it could have been the way it dazzled Videl at the sheer variety of life forms.

During the three weeks of getting there, Vegeta had informed her about his race and the existence of other races. He first wasted no time in making it clear that she was to learn how to navigate the ship and also familiarize herself with the universal script they would be using from then on. He simple wrote down the alphabets of the script and read them out loud as Videl wrote down how they sounded. Most of the single "letter" of the script was pronounced with two letters as she noted. Vegeta wrote down his name with the letters that sounded like "beh-gee-ta" before telling her to write down her name.

She did suspect it was a tactic to find out her name without actually asking for it but she made no indication that she thought so. It was useless anyway, as she would later on find out, since the man hardly called her anything else but "girl", "brat", "kid", and the occasional "idiot" or "weakling"—let alone her name. She scanned through the letters and picked the three ones closest to her name. "Bee-deh-ru". The letters were ones with soft curves, a few circles and prominent lines—she liked it. It was exhilarating in a way to see her name in alien script.

Another thing that astonished her was her current keeper. By all means, he seemed perfectly human, unless you take into consideration his gravity defying hair. However, it was much more—much, much more. A member of the Saiyans, a warrior race. A prince of a warrior race.

She had listened, utterly entranced, as Vegeta told her of the pride and power of the Saiyans. He hadn't informed her much, telling her that she would learn everything eventually, and left her hanging by a thread. It took all her willpower not to whine and beg for him to tell her everything. The Saiyans were the strongest race in the universe. That knowledge alone made Videl almost faint in exhilaration.

Landing at the port also made her knees go weak from the knowledge that she was stepping on alien ground. Vegeta informed her of a short list of tasks they needed to accomplish while there. The most pressing of matters would be to get her new clothes. The Saiyan had refrained from doing too much physical training with the girl since no other clothing was available if they were to be badly damaged. Even so, with the vigorous ki training he had put her through was enough to have the worn leather falling apart on itself.

Then the matter of trading some capsules for a healthy sum of intergalactic currency was also on top of the list. Though, as Vegeta had mused, killing off some rogue soldiers of the Cold Empire wouldn't be so bad either. There was a brief confrontation before landing at the port. It seemed that ex-soldiers of the Empire had taken to operate the port as a private business. Announcing his arrival was quite the shocker.

"Identify yourself," came the crackling voice over the radio as the spiked ball shaped port came into view. Videl sat calmly in the co-pilot's chair, eyeing Vegeta's every move to learn as much as she could. The bright gleam in her blue eyes did betray the inner fire of anticipation and curiosity, though, she made sure not to outwardly show it too much.

"Vegeta," was all the flame-haired man said. That single word cast an unnatural silence over the air before loud rambunctious laughter filtered through.

"Vegeta? That traitor is rumored to be hiding on some small mud-ball far away from here. Now state your true identity before we blast you out of the sky."

Videl actually felt a bit nervous at the threat. Well, nervous on what Vegeta would do. In the three weeks with the man 24/7, it was clear to her Vegeta wasn't the type someone could taunt without losing a majority of their limbs or life. She was, however, quite surprised that Vegeta took a more diplomatic approach. It seemed he did opt to settle things without much fuss—even if he wouldn't be hesitant if violence was the most non-fussy way.

Flicking on the video transmission, Vegeta bored his dark orbs into the surprised alien's golden brown face. "Vegeta," he repeated slowly, "prince of Saiyans."

Clearly recognizing the infamous features of the Elite Saiyan, the alien visibly trembled before hastily granting them passage into their best port and sending out the best of their crew to tend to the ship while Vegeta and Videl were there. Turning off the radio, Vegeta sat back into his seat but not before sharing a quick humored smirk with Videl. They both were the type to be amused with cowardly weaklings.

"Girl," Vegeta called, snapping Videl out of her thoughts. "I'm leaving you for a while to trade off these capsules for credits. You see that crowd over there?"

Videl nodded as she kept her attention on the loud gathering a few sections away from them. The relatively narrow hall expanded into an open metal dome illuminated with large overhead white neon lights in a honey-comb like pattern. In the middle of the section was an elevated ring where two small alienish—children she had immediately noted—were fighting each other to the cheer and roar of the crowd.

"Go make yourself useful and earn some credits."

Before she could reply, the man spun on his heels and walked away, following the signs to the trading sector. Figuring that she might as well do what he said, she carefully made her way through the crowd to speculate just how well she could fare. It was just like how Vegeta said that few— if any at all— races of the universe have the knowledge of ki manipulation like the humans and Namekians. She closed her eyes briefly and scanned the un-hidden ki of the children fighters. The majority of their ki were higher than hers, though, not by much. She did have the high probability of winning.

Was it why he told me to earn the credits? That he was sure I could get them rather than saying something like 'try to earn'? He must have already sensed their ki… If anything, it taught Videl to be completely aware of her surroundings at all times, always on the look out for hostile ki no matter where.

The blue-eyed girl glanced upward at the signs before finding one with big bold letters that she barely made out to be "Registrations". Using her small frame to her advantage, she swiftly weaved through the big and smelly bodies of the cheering aliens to a long elevated registration booth where two figures in cloaks were lounging on elaborate leather chairs and monitoring the fights. There were four chairs but the right-most two were empty; she gave no thought to it, however, and boldly approached the two humanoid figures.

"Excuse me?"

Both figures kicked their feet off from the table and looked around before looking over the table and down to find the short girl with a serious expression on her face. Glancing at each other—a movement Videl didn't miss—the one on the left decided to be the one to address her.

"How may I abet you with my copious knowledge?" Came a male voice that perfectly articulated every word. Ignoring the fact that she had no clue to what "abet" and "copious" meant, Videl carried on.

"I'm here to sign up for the matches."

Both figures stared at her (at least she surmised so) before chuckling loudly. "That's f—ing hilarious, kid. You got credits on you?" the also male figure on the right asked.

"Um… No."

"Read the f—ing sign, kid," he said while jerking a thumb back behind him. Too short to see anything, Videl floated up—to the mild surprise of the two cloaked figures—and read the back-lit square board. Registration fees: 55 Cs. Winner of 3 consecutive matches: 200 Cs. Winner of 5 consecutive matches: 400 Cs.

She floated back down, "I don't have any money on me at the moment. I'll gladly pay you back when I win, though."

She was once again replied with chuckling, "A little girl like you? I can hardly even guess your f—ing race! What could a short little girl like you possibly f—ing do? Maybe when you're older and talle—HEY!"

Without Videl noticing, two other cloaked figures came out from the sliding doors on the right of the board sign and hade swiftly smacked the cursing man upside the head. It was then Videl noticed something that had been nagging her. She couldn't feel their ki; zero, nihil, it was like they weren't there. Ki users?? Even from this distance I can't feel a shred of ki!

"We heard the whole thing from inside. Picking on five-footers and below again, eh, dear friend?"

"Not to mention using such foul language on the children. We knew we shouldn't have left you guys to guard the booth while we made drinks."

"I didn't actively participate in the animadversion, so I must be excluded from the castigation," the first male pointed out before sinking wordlessly back into his seat as, Videl assumed, the two female figures glared him down.

"Anyway," the first female started before turning to Videl along with her friend, "I'm curious to see her fight. Ever since we opened up the 'Brat Bout', no females have entered. Give her a chance; she appears strong enough despite her size."

"Now that you have mentioned it, from physiognomy, I can see what you mean. And you're right about the paucity of female combatants." Everyone pretended they knew what "physiognomy" and "paucity" meant.

The second male snorted, "Whatever. Have your f—ing way."

Videl was about to thank the two kind women when they leaned down over the counter and a stray of light briefly lit their features. Videl was absolutely floored. They appeared human, however, they were—no other words could describe them—stunningly beautiful. Too much so, that no way could they be human. She glanced at the other figures just as they tilted her way to have the light shine briefly upon them too. Again, she nearly choked at the devastatingly handsome features that would send any female imploding on sight.

"What's your name, girl?" The second female asked. If Videl wasn't still distracted by their blinding beauty, she would have felt her skin crawl from the oddly disturbing tone in the woman's voice.

"V-Vi-Videl, ma'am."

"Here," the first female handed her a clipboard like screen and a cordless steel pen-shaped rod, "write your name in the first row and press your right thumb on the box to the right of your name."

Videl did as told, finishing her name in the universal script with a flourish and pressing her thumb to the highlighted box. The screen flashed a moment before the words "Registration Complete. Thank you" greeted her.

"Alrighty then, go kick some male butt! Your name will be called when your turn is up. You win when you knock an opponent out of the ring, make them give up, or knock them unconscious. Death is an automatic disqualifying action, though, be warned that even some children wouldn't hesitate to do so."

Musing at the similarities of the competition with Budokai rules, Videl bowed her thanks and went off to the corner where others awaited their turn. As soon as she was out of sight, the two females sank into their leather chairs as the second female started laughing a laugh reserved for demented mad scientists.

"This should be amusing."

"I'm going to beat you all little kiddies from Ceramica to Gaseon!!"

"No, I'M going to win! MY father is the greatest warrior on our planet! And the Pepputians are a strong race!!"

"Well, MY father is the general of the Languine army! We're the strongest in the UNIVERSE!"

"Hah! Not as powerful as the Lunarians!!! You'll all fall under my fist!"

"Well, me and my father can beat ALL of you and your fathers! Many of our race, the Sicmuian, are hand picked to be the Elites of the Cold Empire!"

Videl softly snorted, not taking in the probability of the other children's inhuman hearing. Immediately, various eyes and other visual receptors turned to glare at her. She glared back; not at all intimidated by the looks she was receiving. Her current guardian's glare was a hundred times more potent.

"Well, well, what weakling planet are you from, girlie?" the tall, gray, lanky boy from Sicmu sneered. Ar en Bee wasn't known for his kindness or modesty.

"Yeah, probably some primitive civilization that got here from a stray meteor," a large, round boy with crevice riddled skin piped in. Deimos of Lunari made sure to wave his large concrete like fists at Videl for good measure. Pot of Ceramica took the opportunity to smirk arrogantly as did Barh-Nee of Pepput. Chiah Neeze of Langu folded his arms and gave his share of smirking and glaring.

"Those who boast their power are merely distracting themselves from their weaknesses," Videl said coldly, eliciting indignant growls from all around.

"That still doesn't answer the question, weakling. What stupid planet are you from, huh? And I bet your father is a small weakling like you too! In fact, he must be so DUMB that he entered you into this competition in the first place!"

She was a child who knew the act of holding her temper—but pride was another thing. She eyed Ar en Bee with a look of pure ice before answering before she could stop herself. "You'd better not cross me. Those who oppose the Saiyans will die a painful death."

"Saiyans?!"

The reaction was instantaneous. The boys recoiled as if she was a poisonous snake before gathering their wits. "You lie!" Deimos accused, "The Saiyans were wiped out!"

"Not the Prince of Saiyans, the Elite who had a hand in defeating Freeza. Not my father." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she started kicking herself mentally. What in Kami's name did she say?? Vegeta's her father??? That she's Saiyan??

"W-where's your tail then?"

"Cut it off during training."

"Your father?"

"Off trading."

"B-but… No females… You're half-breed then?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I still say she's bluffing," Chiah cut in.

Videl smirked, "I guess we'll just have to prove it in the ring then."

She might have trouble since the boys had ki levels slightly over hers. However, as she waited on the sidelines for her turn, she found out she could actually detect who could use the ki expertly and who just used it as reinforcing physical attacks. The fighters who only used martial arts powered by ki had the feel of an erratic heartbeat. Those that flew and expelled ki blasts had smooth flowing ki that felt like her own and Vegeta's. It was clear, however, that she was the only one there that could hide and detect ki on her own.

The boys all eyed her and cracked their knuckles as Videl went up to challenge the current two-time winner. The humanoid furry boy swung his arms around as Videl planned her strategy. From the crowd, a man looking remarkably like her opponent shouted out something about her "only number 5 reading" as he tapped a weird device on the left side of his face.

The loud buzz signaled the start of the match and Videl dodged back three steps till she was in the corner of the ring. The boy smirked and lunged at her, figuring she had no where to go but back, only to find her gone and himself face down on the metal floor after a kick on the back of his head. Videl completed her half flight-half jump and waited for the next round with a smirk on her face.

The boys fell one after another, some more easily than others. They mostly used brute force and almost every time underestimated her. If they had gone after her full-force, she might have lost after a short clash. But boys will be boys, and Videl took advantage of it all. Until Deimos's hulking figure came into view.

He was virtually a big piece of solid rock. She also made the mistake of misjudging his speed. His fist came at her with such a velocity that she nearly got hit square on her chest if it wasn't for the ki boosted dodging at the last nanosecond. The wind from the missed hit actually ripped a piece off from her leather as she quickly rolled between his parted legs to distance herself from him.

"I'll crush you!" He shouted at her, aiming fatal blows and generally demolishing the ring as she nimbly dodged his attacks trying to find an opening. "You little weakling!!"

"Shut UP!!" She growled, aiming a powered kick at the back of his neck. To her horror, it had no effect whatsoever. Deimos grinned and grabbed her leg in her moment of surprise to slam her to the ground. She heard the audible crack in her ribs but knew it wasn't over as he pulled her back up to hang upside down in front of him. Blood dribbled down her lips but she still glared for all she's worth.

"Saiyan, eh? More like the Sissyians," the ugly boy taunted, getting cheering from the crowd and the boys in the "loser section". He tightened his grip on her leg and she gasped but didn't scream. She wouldn't give in. "Come on, scream, beg for mercy! Saiyan…ppft, don't make me laugh!"

The crowd jeered and laughed at her. Every remark cut deeper into the thin cord of her patience. Finally, she just snapped. She'll be damned if they were to call her weak again. If she'll lose again. She'll be strong. She'll be stronger than them all.

She'll be a Saiyan.

'The Lunarians have big, pretty eyes,' was her last thought before pulling the upper half of herself up and bursting Deimos's right eye with a narrow beam of ki from her finger. His scream was inhumanly deep and she was slightly taken back before being dropped to the ground. Black liquid gushed forth between his thick fingers as he twisted around from the pain, all the while screaming and cursing in sync with the crowd's furious cries.

"Mock me, would you?" She scoffed while darting forward once he was near enough to the edge of the ring, still disoriented from the blinding pain. "No one," she crouched down and gathered the ki in her hands, "I repeat, no one…" Once the average amount of ki was gathered, she straightened up and moved the white sphere to hover an inch from her raised left arm.

"Mocks a Saiyan."

The white blast impacted Deimos square on the chest with just the enough force to send him toppling over the ring to continue writhing on the cold, metal floor. She crossed her arms and smirked in a pose she'd frequently seen Vegeta do, ignoring the cursing coming from the crowd.

The crowd was getting louder by the minute, and from the random voice that was coherent enough for her to catch, she realized that there had been some betting going on. It seemed she had angered many aliens who'd bet on Deimos not to mention the familes of those she'd defeated. In fact, she was actually starting to get nervous when some of them started to rise into the air.

"She said she's the daughter of the Prince of Saiyans!" Ar en Bee's voice called out. Videl had the time to feel a bolt of anger go through her, wishing to bash Ar en Bee's loud mouth in back through his head.

"Daughter of Vegeta? I'll enjoy crushing her…." Many of the aliens advanced and Videl knew she was in serious trouble. From the corner of her eye, she could see the four cloaked figures still laid back in their chairs and watching intently—weren't they going to help her?

The first one to reach her was the father of the furry boy she was first up against. Raising her arms to block his blow, she found it unnecessary as the device on his face started to beep loudly—bringing an abrupt halt in his flight. In fact, there was multiple beeping from every device in the section before they all simultaneously exploded. And it all happened in conjunction of Vegeta's sudden ki spike from above her.

The aliens visibly trembled as they slowly backed away. Videl let a taunting grin crawl up her face and crossed her arms as Vegeta floated down to stand slightly in front of her with his arm crossed. They made quite the intimidating picture. No doubt they were father and daughter.

"What's this…" Vegeta drawled slowly, causing some aliens to jump at his voice, "that I hear about crushing my daughter?" The barely noticeable glance in her direction indicated he was aiming the question at her.

Videl mentally winced. How long had Vegeta been there? How much of her lies had he heard? And she claimed to be his daughter! Most definitely he would not be happy. Oh well, she'd rather suffer in the GR rather than be humiliated in public—and she knew Vegeta felt the same.

"My opponents had been mocking you, father," the word felt weird on her lips but she couldn't deny the tang of pride when she said it, "that you were dumb to enter me in the competition, that you were a small weakling. I informed them of our race and they still dared to mock us. Apparently the crowd wasn't happy when I punished the Lunarian for his mistake." She glanced at the sobbing boy in his father's arms, blood still flowing freely from the pitch black socket his right orb used to be. Strange, she felt no remorse at all.

"I see." Videl was infinitely relieved that Vegeta decided to play into the role. "Well then, what should we do with the rest of the rubbish?"

Realizing that she was the holder of their destiny, the previous livid audience turned pleading eyes at her. She felt disgusted at the display. So quickly were they to become slobbering cowards; imagining the effort of punishing such pitiful creatures was an unsavory idea. She scoffed at the mass of life-forms, causing most of them to flinch in thinking she was going to give the command that will end their life, before speaking loud and clear. "They aren't worth the effort."

Vegeta smirked and walked off the ring with her following close behind. The crowd parted to give them space, almost falling over on each other. The sensation of being respected—feared—was intoxicating for Videl. Aliens that could easily kill her and her species, falling over each other to give her space like she was a goddess—simply addictive. If this was a small taste of what power could bring, she wanted all of it. Every single drop of power she could achieve—by any means necessary.

"Videl!!"

Reflexively catching the pouch of money, Videl turned to the registration booth where the first female had called her. "The bout is on us!"

Videl smiled and waved good-bye. As she turned to walk away, her eyes landed on the boys who had boasted so loud earlier. Giving them a taste of their own arrogant smirk, she tried not to rub it in too much. They withered under her blue orbs.

"Brat, come on."

"Yes, father."

She called him that from then on.

She twisted around awkwardly so that her back was facing the mirror in her quarters, eager to take in the whole of her new outfit. Her eyes ran swiftly up and down her form, marveling at her exquisite new wardrobe. She looked…just like Vegeta! Well, perhaps not exactly like him, but close enough that even she had to do a double take in the mirror.

He'd told her it was armor, and she believed him at first, eyes superficially taking in the suit he'd picked up at one of the many shops on F-209, though now she was starting to doubt him. This was armor? When she though of armor, immediately visions of knights from medieval times sprang to mind, big clunking heaps of metal strapped onto the tiny body of a human, nearly impossible to maneuver in. And yet this armor seemed to protect her adequately while at the same time not restricting her movements in the least. On the contrary, it seemed to give uniformity to her motions, smoothed her form.

After the fight at the arena, she'd taken her winnings and done a bit of shopping while Vegeta saw to the care of the ship, refueling it and such. First on her mind was, of course, more clothing. Her leather "clothes"—if they could even be called such—were literally falling apart even with the shoddy stitching she'd done to hold them together, so she needed something that could hold up better under Vegeta's rigorous training sessions. There were few shops with any ready-made clothing, so she stopped at one of the strange sewing shops dotting the marketplace. With so many different species visiting the small port, it was useless to stock merely one body shape clothes if you wanted to sell anything. So most vendors, skilled sewers as well, simply took measurements of the customer and fashioned the outfits in under an hour. By this method, Videl found herself with an adequate wardrobe fit for training in, and sent them back to the ship while she browsed a bit more. It was, after all, her first time on an alien station—the first time any human had been beyond the moon! Her chest swelled with pride in her race, then just as quickly deflated.

Human… Her eyes dropped to the ground. Only human… nothing more, nothing less, than a weak human. That's what he'd said… her father—her Saiyan father. Vegeta. He was powerful… so powerful… even in the short time she'd spent 'training' with him (or more accurately getting the crap beat out of her while she tried to grasp basic ki maneuvers) she could tell he was strong. Yet it wasn't the type of strength one would usually think of. He had muscles, but they weren't overly showy or bulging, and his height certainly wasn't intimidating anyone. But it almost seemed to flow from him… an aura of silent power that anyone paying the slightest attention could notice.

She noticed. She wanted that power. But she was only human.

She stared into the mirror again, fingering her long black tresses, now hanging over halfway down her back. It really was too long, she realized, though Vegeta hadn't said anything. It'd been particularly annoying in the ring earlier, flying into her face the few times she was knocked to the ground by her opponents. It clung adhesively to her sweaty face, and she'd wasted precious seconds sweeping it from in front of her eyes.

Narrowing her gaze at the reflection, she gripped the long tresses as if she was pulling it up into a ponytail, grasping the hair tightly in both hands. Her eyes slid shut in concentration as she tightened her grip and flooded her palms with energy, and the nauseating scent of burning hair quickly filled her small room. Her eyes shot back open, and her hands fell back to her sides as she watched the severed black strands sink soundlessly to the floor in a heap. She gave her head a single great shake, tousling it into an unkempt mess reminiscent of her father's.

"Nice…" was all she said.

"Don't think of them as sentient beings—you are all that there is. Either you… or them. If you wish to progress, girl, then this is something you will come not only to tolerate, but to enjoy. They are food, and that is all. Not human, not Saiyan, do not even look upon them as living—in your mind, they should already be dead; it will make the kill much easier…" Vegeta's rough voice was low and ragged, and Videl had to strain to catch his every word.

Where they were now, she knew not; they'd been traveling for months now, and wherever this planet was, she felt safe in assuming it was nowhere near that swirling blue planet she'd spent a former life on… for that's what it was now: A former life. She had died and been reincarnated, from Videl the puny, weak human girl, to Videl the puny, weak, but potentially strong Saiyan. Her human father was her past, her Saiyan father her present. What lay in the future? Her first kill, apparently…

At first, she'd been squeamish at the idea of ingesting raw meat as she'd seen Vegeta do, blood slowly oozing through the fingers of his perfect white glove and never seeming to stain—for that was all he ate when stopping by planets Freeza's troops hadn't got the chance of purging yet. Though their ship was adequately stocked with freeze dried foods from various ports, he "loved the thrill of the hunt," as he put it, and assured her that she would soon come to cherish it in the same primal and sensual way as he. That time was now.

She peered through the tall grass into a clearing, to which Vegeta was pointing now and gazed benignly, almost curiously, on her victim. "A young one, not hardly older than you, proportionally—you will be more than a match for it, human though you may be." Her gaze froze as she took in the being before her, which was blissfully unaware of its stalkers.

Humanoid in body shape, no doubt from convergent evolution, as the planet's environment bore striking similarity to the Earth's. She would compare them to the Saiyans, most nearly, from what she could see. A decidedly feline bone structure, delicate, yet reinforced at the legs, which bent backwards at the knee. Wide face, small pointed ears, and a thin veiling of fur which stretched from the nape of the neck down the back, spiraling down into a tail at the base of the spine—yes, very much like Saiyans.

Yet she mustn't look upon this… this, thing before her as any living thing, he'd said. Though it may look like a child half her age… it wasn't, she had to remind herself.

Vegeta looked over at his protégé, eyes calculating her thoughts as she studied her prey, gaze darting to and fro as she surveyed her hunting environment—yes, he'd taught her, this much at least, well. Unconsciously, his mind wandered back to his first hunt under the guidance of one of the Saiyan army's captains—his own father couldn't be bothered with such an outdated ritual as the Hunt. Perhaps, though, it was more of a blessing that the elder militaristic Saiyan had carted the boy off to an appropriate planet—he would never tell the girl, but it had been this planet, in fact—rather than his simpering father.

Yes, he was an adept ruler over their warrior race, with a cold fist, but King Vegeta was more favorable towards bringing their species forward in time, embracing technology and abandoning the old rituals left over from generations past, the Hunt numbering as one of said rituals. The young prince had nearly resorted to begging his father to allow him to participate in a hunt, disguising his request as a "scouting mission" to the small planet he and the human girl were situated on now. The king had agreed, sending the captain along as well, as a precautionary measure.

Was this why he'd returned here with this girl, now? To relive old memories, to instill them in her? Was he trying to live vicariously through this… this human? He was the father she'd never had, the one she'd always wanted—she actually revered him on a level he'd never revered his own father.

"Go on, girl." He suppressed a slight upward twitch of his lips, fearing it might turn into a smile—she hesitated not a bit at his order, slinking away through the grass, maneuvering around her prey.

The legs… she would have to watch out for the legs—they were obviously well equipped for lashing out at anything that happened to sneak up on it. That ruled out an attack from behind or from the sides—head on was one of her two choices left. The other was an aerial attack. How easy it would be, she contemplated, to simply take to the sky, well away from the beast below, and fire a moderate blast at it—even a moderate blast would be, she assumed, enough to reduce it to a pile of glowing cinders.

But, she gave a low growl; her father had strictly prohibited her from using blasts of any sort. If he caught her using ki that way on the Hunt, he threatened, she'd be prohibited from training with him in the ship's gravity chamber for two weeks. The point, he tried to stress, was not to merely kill, but to ingest the flesh raw. They could kill the beasts any time they wanted—the object was to catch them for food. No blasts allowed.

She'd be far too tempted, she knew, to toss a beam or ball of energy at it if she took to the sky at the beginning of her attack, so she resigned herself to a frontal attack and moved into position. 'Father's watching…I have to do well…' She struggled to remember how she'd seen him do it so many times, how he'd get within a few feet of his prey and simply pounce on it, catching it completely off guard.

She erected a veil-like ki barrier around her form which muffled the sound of her approach, though it could not mask the slight ruffling of the tall grass around her and she had to make sure she moved only when the wind blew so as not to tip off the… whatever she was stalking. 'Knock it to the ground, knock it to the ground, snap the neck…watch out for the legs…' She reviewed every hunting tip Vegeta had given her in the all too short time she'd been with him—for he refused to train her more than teaching basic ki manipulation until she had passed the "initiation" among the traditional Saiyans: the Hunt.

"It awakens and enhances the fighting instinct, feeding the primal urge of feasting on raw flesh," he had told her early on, explaining the reasoning behind the Hunt. Apparently in ages past, in the dawn of the Saiyans' era, the Hunt had been carried out on local herds of wildlife before any sort of battle, and was—so he said—even practiced in recent times as well by Cold Empire Saiyan troops before purging a planet. If it had worked for so long, he saw no reason she shouldn't immerse herself in this aspect of his culture as well. In fact, the practice had attributed to the strength of the Saiyans; the nutrients found in alien races were rare and in most cases able to actively boost power. Many tales were told of whole planets inhabited by herds of beings that were able to grant instant unimaginable power to whoever consumed their flesh. Her father hadn't encountered such planets as of yet, but it would definitely be a goal in their travels to look forward to.

She tested the air, giving a silent sniff; already her senses were heightening under her father's tutelage, and she found the creature's scent quite easily among the other foreign odors floating in the planet's air. Sweaty, dirty, so animal that she actually found her mind wandering from considering it as a sentient being, taste buds watering slightly at the thought of the imminent feast. She licked her dry lips and crouched low, muscles taut, mentally counting down, 'Three…two…now!'

If all went as planned, she would catch it completely off guard, knock it to the ground with lightning celerity, and snap its frail neck even faster.

At least, that was if all went as planned, and as she should have known better than anyone, things seldom go exactly as planned.

She did catch it off guard, as hoped, but she hadn't counted on it having cat-like reflexes to go along with its cat-like features. She was still in the air, in mid-pounce, when it saw her, noted that she was a threat, and crouched into a defensive position. Had she been in control of her wits, she might have realized what had happened in time to halt her descent upon the prey and regroup to the air, possibly firing her body back at it like a missile from a decent height.

Except she wasn't thinking—this was, after all, only her first hunt. She didn't have the battle experience her father had, nor the ability to make snap decisions in times of intense stress, such as this. And it was this lack of ability which sent her hurtling to the ground after launching herself at a prey which was more than prepared for her arrival by now.

Where she had expected to knock it to the ground, it knocked her to the ground, wrapping its long and deceptively muscular arms around her, though it was nearly half her size. The two rolled along the ground for a few moments before coming to a rest with it situated in top of her chest, pounding fist after fist into her stomach relentlessly. In the back of her mind, though, she didn't blame the creature. Had their roles in the Hunt been reversed, she wouldn't hesitate to defend herself to the utmost of her ability.

That didn't mean that she was going to take it, though. Stomach muscles cramping, she tossed the creature from its post atop her with an angry burst of ki, sending it sprawling to the ground a few yards away—it was back on its feet before it even touched the grass, and powering back towards her. She had only the time to shakily get back to her feet and look up to see a brown blur coming towards her. After that she didn't really note much of anything as her jaw snapped wildly backwards from a fist fired at her face. The creature followed her back, grinding more punches into her abdomen and chest before finally slamming her to the ground again and rolling her onto her stomach.

As before, it sat on her back and grasped her arms from her sides, yanking the limbs upwards and pulling them together, struggling to make the wrists meet—not a natural thing for human arms to do. Videl registered the cracking of her bones along with the tearing of ligaments in a feral scream, one which would have looked quite unsettling coming from the mouth of a ten year old human girl.

Why… why wasn't it running? Why was it still here, why hadn't it fled?! Father…Father, you lied! You told me it wasn't sentient…you said it was just food…but food would have run, food wouldn't stay and fight! You didn't tell me…you lied…you didn't say it was a warrior race…

She knew he was out there, knew even now, as the beast on her back was literally tearing her arms from their sockets, as it crushed its elbow into her back, effectively damaging it in numerous places, she knew he was watching this with mild indifference…why won't you save me, Father? Why?!

Do I disgrace you? Are you ashamed of me now? Will you send me back there, Father, back to Earth? Will you take back anything and everything I've learned? Will you abandon me? Don't abandon me… like he abandoned me… keep me with you, Father… I promise I'll do better, I promise…

Just don't leave me… please…

"Disgraceful." Fist to her face. "Absolutely appalling." Knee to her jaw. "What a disgusting display." Kick to her spine. "Never have I seen such a sad excuse for a Hunt…"

Videl lay hunched over on her knees, trembling, hands steadying her body on the cold tiled floor. Sweat flowed mingled with blood from her newly received wounds down her limbs, pooling around her feet and palms as she heaved, coughing up more blood. Vegeta stood over the child, arms crossed on his chest, frowning disdainfully, and he lifted a foot to her chin to pull her gaze upward to his, as if he found it distasteful to even touch the quivering creature before him.

As soon as she had slightly healed from the disastrous Hunt, Vegeta had slung the child from her bed into the gravity chamber and put her through the ringer, effectively canceling out any restoration she'd gone through since then. Her wounds reopened, her muscles—not fully recuperated from before—tore even further, and he was disgusted that she lacked the will to even defend against his punishing blows. Well, if the brat wouldn't block, the Saiyan prince saw no reason to stop—obviously she wanted more, and he was only too eager to deliver.

"You understand why I'm doing this, don't you?"

A tentative nod, and she averted her eyes, clutching a hand to her shaking abdomen, silently cursing her weakness under his gaze. He removed his foot, and turned on his heel headed back into his private area of the ship, the door closing with a hiss behind him. She was all alone, again.

Her first hunt had been a complete disaster—not for her having failed to kill her prey, but from her completely humiliating herself before her father. Her father… whom she would never disappoint were she able to avoid it. And yet she had—abominably. She was glad he'd punished her so harshly; perhaps next time she wouldn't be so cocky in assessing her prey, so arrogant, so—so… like him.

Yes, she realized with wide eyes—it was just what her father would have done, and she dared conjecture that, were he at her power level, he might have come out the worse in the battle with that creature back there as she had. She'd barely been traveling with him for a few months, but already her mind had matured as if she were years beyond her actual age, and she watched Vegeta all the time, copying his every move, gaining his faults as well as his fortes, his weaknesses along with his strengths.

The upside was that she was weak enough to realize that they were shortcomings early on, and was thus able to now correct them—something Vegeta seldom saw as there were few in the universe who posed anything of a threat to him.

Well that was one mistake she would certainly never make again: No matter what it looks like on the outside, that means nothing of its power, positive or negative. Her prey appeared as a child, yet held power and reflexes which surpassed her own. On the other hand, there might be a being who appears great and powerful who actually has nearly no ki to speak of.

If it looks like a child, walks like a child, talks like a child, but has the power level of Father, why not put forth the effort to squash it?

Why not indeed…

It was three weeks later, three full weeks after the disaster on Oberon-8, and Videl silently marveled at how quickly she'd healed. To her utter surprise the day following her punishment by Vegeta, he'd ordered her into one of the regen tanks they'd picked up back on F-209, and left her to heal for an hour. An hour—that was all it took. Granted her wounds weren't nearly so serious as to be life threatening since he had given her some time to heal before the bout, but still… an hour.

He hadn't spoken to her since then, his final words to her being, "Don't come out for an hour—and don't drip on the floor when you get out." She'd gotten use to the silent aura he projected—the one that said, "Speak to me at your own risk," so the three weeks of silence weren't anything she hadn't seen before nor would never see again. After all, they hardly ran into each other anyway, with the ship being so large. Vegeta mainly stayed in his room or the Gravity Room (usually the latter) while Videl confined herself to her own quarters, meditating daily while working on simple ki exercises he'd instilled in her.

Simple ones, though, were all she could manage. As said before, he hadn't spoken to her since sending her to the regen tank, and that included barring her from training with him. He wasn't working her to death like before—he simply wasn't working her at all. She tried to convince herself it was simply because he was busy, perhaps he was nearing the "second level" he would mumble about sometimes when he thought she wasn't listening.

But the more she tried to convince herself of this, the firmer her beliefs became that this all stemmed from the disgraceful act she'd put on during the Hunt. He'd sworn he wouldn't teach her anymore until she'd successfully killed, and it seemed he'd not been joking—who was she kidding, he never joked. She only marked it as a matter of time before he noted what little good she was serving on this ship now, and then he'd simply drop her off at the nearest space port to fend for herself.

No, she corrected herself, he wouldn't wait for the nearest port, he'd just toss her out one of the airlocks.

And she admitted she wouldn't be all that angry with him should he do that—she'd expected it by now. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to do something to right it all. One way or another, she'd redeem herself in his eyes, make it all okay. Somehow…

Vegeta shot awake in his bed, breathing in short quick gasps as if he'd just come from an intense training session in the Gravity Room, eyes wide and white, his pupils tiny dots. He clutched the sheets wrapped like constricting snakes about him fiercely, soaking them in sweat as he struggled to calm his heart rate. Why… why had he woken so suddenly? Of what haunting scene had he been dreaming, that he woke so suddenly and fearfully from? Even now he couldn't remember, only that it had been something he'd dreamt before, something that plagued him nightly for a while now… but he couldn't give it a name or face, so it continued to harass him.

Shaking his head to clear the sleep and remains of the dream away, his eye fell over to the control panel at his bedside. It was glowing with a gentle green backlight, a cooling fan whirring softly from somewhere inside the tower module; at the top of the panel words blinked rapidly across a screen in the universal script, marking relative speed, distance from known planets nearby, last port departed from, current port headed to…

Wait—headed towards? His eyes narrowed, sweeping up and down the panel—someone was piloting the ship towards a port, to the Adolski Vale port to be more exact, according to the blinking green script. A faint clicking reached his ears though most of his senses were focused tightly on the control panel, and he whipped his head around for the source—a quick scan told him someone was in the main control room, while another pass alerted him to their identity.

"Girl…" he called out suddenly but softly from the entryway to the bridge, and she gasped lightly as she whirled around to meet his gaze, eyes half-lidded with sleep. Apparently she'd forced herself awake in the middle of their sleep cycle so she might carry out this task without his knowledge. How fortunate he'd awoken when he had, otherwise he wouldn't have known of the girl's diversion for another few hours, when they would have nearly reached their destination. He pushed himself up from his post leaning against the door and stepped towards her, arms hanging limply at his sides rather than crossed over his chest as they usually were. "Just what did you think you were doing with my ship?"

Her eyes fell to the floor, but he could tell she wasn't scared or ashamed—no, her breathing was even and paced, her heartbeat steady. She wasn't struggling for a lie to cover up the deed, but rather choosing how best to explain the action. She looked back up to him, not frowning, not smiling, but exuding determination from every pore, struggling to appear confident under his dark gaze. "I was setting it on a course for Adolski, sir," was a simple reply, though she knew perfectly well that wasn't what he'd been asking about.

"And why were you doing that, girl?" A frown edged its way onto his face at her impudent reply to his first question, and Videl knew she'd do well to properly answer this one.

"I wish to hunt there," was her second simple reply, though this one fully explained her intentions, and the frown faded from his face, replaced by a blank slate—he had no response prepared for this answer. She continued. "I too am disgraced by what was unworthy to be called a 'first Hunt' and wish to make one more attempt on Adolski. I… I have researched its people these three weeks and believe they would make adequate prey." Vegeta didn't need her rundown on the inhabitants of the planet—he knew them well enough as the natural immunities which ran in the Adolskians' blood made them a favorite of many Hunting parties. Silently he commended her for the research, but his face remained blank. "I… I wish… if I fail at this hunt as well—if I do not succeed… I wish for you to kill me…"

He raised a single eyebrow at the final statement, spoken in a very tiny voice, and he knew she'd only added it as a kind of throw-out to him, trying to make him see how serious she was in the endeavor, what lengths she would go to in order to gain his favor. She didn't want him to kill her, it was a bluff he'd seen and called many times before in subordinates trying to impress him. He stepped nearer and took her chin gently in one hand, forcing her to look him full in the face. "Oh don't worry, child…" His voice was smooth and cold, a tone he usually only took when speaking to those he was about to destroy. "I will kill you should you fail again… but it won't be because you asked me to…" He released her and marched back to his room. He could still get a few more hours of sleep before they landed at Adolski.

The port on Adolski's southernmost continent was bustling with nearly as much life and action as F-209, though not nearly as densely packed as the way station, which was saying something as F-209 hadn't been very crowded at all. It was obvious from first sight that the Adolskians were fond of open air and plenty of room to maneuver, as evident by the wide streets and distances between towns. There were few large cities, mostly restricted to pocket communities a few miles apart, consisting of family groups. They weren't primitive, by any means, but their civilization still had a few leaps and bounds to cover before anything beyond local space-flight was attempted.

This was, perhaps, why many of the booths were situated right around the main gate to the port, ready to receive any weary travelers and take them for a few credits. Aliens of all sorts were welcome to the world, though few natives ever left, and the economy seemed to get by quite well through exports.

Videl's attentions were diverted every few seconds as she traipsed along behind Vegeta through the wide streets, eyes shooting in every direction, goggling at the different species represented here. It was like F-209… only better! Her mentor, however, didn't seem to find anything all that interesting in the sights, and walked forward silently, never looking behind to be assured she was still there. She could tell, though, that he was all the while monitoring her ki and ensuring she was still a step behind him. Her eyes turned downward as she sank into "battle mode"—where she focused her thoughts on an upcoming spar or trial with Vegeta, except this time, it wouldn't merely be a spar: this was her life on the line. He'd said he'd kill her, and she unhesitatingly believed he would. She'd seen it before, anyway—so why should she doubt him?

The crowds quickly dispersed as they reached the edge of the port. This was only a gathering place for vendors to greet travelers, not a city by any means, so after a few hundred yards or so, the kiosks disappeared, and nothing was left before them but miles of swaying yellow-brown grass under a pink-hued sky. When he stopped, she positioned herself at his side and looked forward as well.

"Girl." He spoke the monosyllabic word in his usual rough tone, as if he were merely going to ask her to figure the coordinates for the next rest stop. She knew, though, that laced in that word was her own fate, and listened attentively to him now. He pointed a finger to a distant smoke plume on the horizon. "There. That is the settlement you will go to—it is where you will hunt. You will find two adult Adolskians and three whelps, you may hunt whichever you choose, but hunt." He lowered his arm and turned to look down upon her, eyes hard. "You will bring me back the heart of your prey as evidence of your success—though I won't need that to tell whether or not you've done as you've been ordered…" An unspoken warning to her… he would know if she lied to him, and the consequences of such a rash move were horrific to contemplate.

"Go. I will wait back on the ship for your return—you have one hour."

She gave a curt nod, then blasted off into the sky.

Landing soundlessly in the branches of a great tree, she peeked through the leaves, well hidden, at her prey below. Two of the Adolskian children Vegeta had mentioned were grazing peacefully twenty feet away, while the third drank obliviously from the stream at the base of her tree. She slipped lithely to a lower branch, unnoticed, and took in her prey.

Vastly different from her first attempt on Oberon-8, it was apparent the Adolski planet had no major predators to curb the evolution of so weak a creature. Short stubby legs facilitated grazing, and the noodle-like arms couldn't have fended off any serious attack. Yes, no predators—most likely killed off by the planet's wild diseases. So… that would have led to the evolution of such an efficient immune system. Well, their loss would be her gain now.

The other two had moved even further away now, lounging lazily in a patch of tall grass while their sibling waded eagerly in the shallows. Videl leaned forward slightly, bracing herself against another branch, every muscle taught as a bowstring…

An abrupt knock on the GR door interrupted Vegeta mid-punch, and he held the arm in mid-air, eyes still facing forward, but granted his interrupter entry. "What?" he barked when the door hissed closed again, and slowly turned, drawing his arms across his chest. Apparently the girl was back—standing this time, he noted, pleased. The two stared at each other for a moment, before Videl relented and extended an arm full in front of her, fist clenched tightly, what he assumed was blood slowly oozing through her fingers. She turned her hand palm up and uncovered what she held.

"For you, Father." He allowed an eyebrow to rise in mild surprise as he beheld not one, but three Adolskian child hearts, freshly ripped from the chest cavities of their young owners, one still rhythmically jerking, spewing small spurts of blood onto the tiled floor. He turned his disinterested eyes from the organs back to the girl.

"I only wanted one."

"…I got carried away," she drawled in retort after a moment, eyes still cold and hard, then cracked a tiny smile. Well, he mused, apparently she'd gotten over whatever qualms she'd had about killing before.

"And what will you do with your little trinkets now?" he queried, cocking his head to the side, unable to hide his mild curiosity. She merely looked back at the small hearts, smiled, and one, two three—popped them into her mouth like candies, swallowing the lot of them in a single gulp.

"Glad to see you'll be sticking around for a while, brat. Knew you'd come to your senses sooner or later." He turned on his heel and marched out the door to the main control room, prepping the ship for launch.

"And miss training with my father?" she smiled, following suit. "Never."

Her blue eyes blazed like smoldering pits, unblinking even when a drop of crimson life slid in and out, giving her the impression of weeping blood. She was defenseless; on knees upon nearly shattered legs. Blood and sweat that dripped all over her and tainting the floor would have been impressive if it weren't her own. Even so, broken and bleeding, the girl managed to defiantly hold her head up and glare.

Vegeta kept his passive gaze; though, inside he was more than satisfied. His temper would always flare when they sparred—that her fragile human body would buckle too soon under his fist. He would curse the time he wasted on the puny girl, a weak female of her race. However, it was then, when after all the pain she could still hold her head up high without tears, when any other man would have passed out from the pain, that he truly was convinced she was all he expected her to be.

"What?" he finally drawled. The girl opened her mouth to answer but was cut off as she coughed, blood specking the tile and lining her lips. The Saiyan indifferently watched as she swallowed down the pain and tried again, succeeding.

"I can't. I can't be a Saiyan."

A thick eyebrow rose and the girl saw it as a sign to explain herself. She finally broke her glare, almost timidly looking away to admire the crimson mosaic near her hands. "I... No matter how much I train I can't ever be a Saiyan. I'm human. I don't have the potential strength. I... I'm not Saiyan."

He stared at the crown of her black head before stepping forward until his boots came into her view. She slowly tilted her head up, her orbs hard yet almost afraid, though willing to endure. This girl, this foolish, weak girl.

"Fool," he hissed, making it come out more harsh than he intended it to and the girl flinched ever so slightly. "If you can't even convince yourself you're not human—how can you convince me? You willingly took my offer, followed me, swore to accept my every word. Yet you dare defy me by claiming for yourself what you can or cannot do? I alone determine what you can or cannot do. I alone will determine if you cannot be a Saiyan. Once you stop thinking you're human maybe you can see that."

Her eyes watered at the brim from the lecture and Vegeta snorted. "Never defy me again, girl. I have no time to waste on a human. A third class weakling like yourself I'm willing to endure." With that, he swiftly left, the doors closing behind him and leaving the newly determined girl alone in her thoughts.

Thus passed the next year and a half of the life of the girl Videl, no longer human, yet not quite Saiyan. An endless cycle of sleep, eat, train, played over and over before her eyes, though never settling into monotony. It was impossible for her to become bored with it all while she still lagged so far behind her father with respect to power. With so vast a chasm separating the two, she found no time to become bored with her regiment, especially since she was constantly learning new aspects to her attacks and defenses. He would observe her form, correct her if need be, then have her practice it on him in mock battles.

Still, she had no idea where she stood; even though the scouters they'd picked up could accurately calculate her ki level, she had nothing to compare it to. What did the numbers mean to her except to gauge her improvement? Though Vegeta wouldn't admit it, she was drawing dangerously close to his own level from those years ago when he'd first arrived on earth—and he never would admit for fear her head would swell with pride and he wouldn't be able to easily shove her out an airlock.

Their supplies from their first stop at F-209 lasted some six months or so, and they found it necessary to stop again to re-supply. As it had been more than that amount of time since their last stop, Vegeta had deemed it necessary to land again and reload once more. He ordered Videl to stay behind with the ship and see to it that everything was in order after it had been refueled, then to follow into the shabby diner with him. A curt nod was given, and he abandoned her for the sad excuse for a rest-stop diner.

From one of the booths nearest the pump station Vegeta watched her order the skittish aliens around, grinning inwardly as her mouth opened wide—no doubt about to belt out a castigation—at a worker who'd tripped over the hose attached to the ship, spraying fuel everywhere and nearly soaking her.

Twelve years old… a twelve-year-old human girl chastising in thunderous tones a rest-stop worker light-years from her Earth. It was almost laughable that this was how he'd spent the last two years of his life—but it wasn't like it was all for nothing, after all. And yet everything he'd worked to attain was beginning to fall apart.

The girl was nearly at her limit.

No matter how hard he pounded into her head that she was not human, that she was a Saiyan, merely a lowly third-class warrior, it didn't change the fact that she was still the same on the inside—as human as… as anyone on Earth. She didn't have the ability to adapt as he did, to get stronger after a hard battle. She couldn't transform into any higher level like a Super Saiyan, no amount of training would change that. But she still wasn't strong enough to… to accomplish his purposes.

Wasted. Two whole years wasted in space with a weak human girl. A weak human girl he'd thought might serve some use for him… but apparently he was wrong. She was probably the most powerful of her species' gender, but it still wasn't enough. Her ki couldn't go much higher than it already was. Her bones getting brittle from too many breaks—despite the healing powers of the regen tank. Her battered flesh also slowly, but noticeably, degrading after reaching the limit it could endure repeated damage and healing.

He hadn't told her yet. Why? Perhaps he was waiting for her to make the deduction herself… to come up to him after a training session one day and ask, "Why? Why can't I get stronger, Father?" Father…

Why he still let her call him that was beyond him at the moment. After all, it only served to tie him more closely to her, and that would only make it harder for him to…

To move on.

He'd give her a bit more time. Just a bit—but not much. If he truly had wasted all this time so far, he would need to get back on track soon, perhaps find a new partner. The Gravity Room worked wonders, but nothing beats a nice old-fashioned living challenger, one who could truly put Vegeta through his paces.

Just a bit longer. Then he'd be rid of her if it became necessary.

The bell over the front door jingled as Videl entered, eyes scanning the room as she searched out Vegeta, then spotted him over in a corner, staring blankly out the window at their ship. She walked over and informed him that the craft was refueled and awaiting his return, though all he returned was a, "Hmph," still staring outside. She shifted uneasily and was about to take a seat across from him when he stood abruptly and slid from the booth, headed out the door, with Videl following, slightly unsettled.

He slung the door open and stepped through, bound for the ship, when he noticed the girl's ki suddenly stop, standing in place a few feet behind him. He turned abruptly—she'd never stopped behind him before—and eyed her. She was staring, curious, at a bulletin board posted near the door, fliers and business cards of all sorts attached, in hundreds of different languages.

"Girl?" he spoke, "Are you coming, or should I rent your room out to someone else?"

She merely pointed a finger at a scrap of paper attached to the upper right-hand corner of the board, nearly completely covered up by other notices and yellowing with age. He scoffed at her at first, before eyeing it more closely. His eyes narrowed as he read—it stood out from the others by being the only one written in the universal script. This wasn't some random note posted by the stellar cargo-haulers who frequented the café, it was something more important, something whoever had posted it had hoped the more… cultured, the more wealthy might observe.

"'Selek Bone Reconstructive Surgery: Now Serving the North and East Quadrants'," she read aloud, then shifted her gaze from the bold headline to the line below printed in smaller print. "'Port 649, Selek; further information available on channel 44X.'"

"Stay here; do not follow me. I'll negotiate the terms for the procedure with them alone—I don't need you in there fouling things up." He shoved her into what she assumed was a chair (for she still wasn't sure about the Selek's anatomy and just what position they might find comfortable) and retreated through a door before her, tossing back, "You'll do well to start meditating, girl," shutting the hatch, accompanied by a clicking sound which could only have been a lock fastening.

Her eyes were still wide from receiving the news—she had yet to adopt his skill of manipulating his facial features so as not to betray the emotions he was experiencing.

"The reports you have heard are verifiable, that much is certain, and if you have the finances, then the procedure will be performed the instant your credit comes through—but, I don't believe you've been fully informed on all the delicate details of the matter…"

After a very long-winded speech by the chief scientist of reconstructive surgery among the Seleks, there was much to consider with regards to the circumstances surrounding her state of health—she simply wasn't injured enough. Their precious technology wouldn't work on her, at least not unless her body was damaged seemingly beyond repair…

She knew, though, better than most that such a trifling detail as this wouldn't stall her father in the least—it was simply another hurdle for the two of them to cross. He fully intended to go through with the procedure—or rather, to put her through the procedure. But she couldn't get angry at him for subjecting her to this, no—she could never be angry at him for this! She wanted this, she needed this. Her body… she cursed her human blood! Why, why did she have to have reached her limit? Why couldn't she just keep going? Higher, higher, until she could hold her own against her father; that was her dream… but it could never become reality in this body, in this form. If only she could ascend to some other state, like Father when he shifted into the legend of his race, the Super Saiyan transformation—her body trembled when she contemplated his power… if only!

But no, she was a mere human, and more than that, she was a human who'd reached the peak of her power—she had nowhere else to go… no more purpose in her life… At least, that was the conclusion she'd started to draw before they picked up the tidbit of information at the last refueling station; information about Selek. Well, they were here now, Vegeta was bargaining for the opportunity to have her bones reinforced, bargaining on her behalf—why should she be anything but grateful at this opportunity? Exactly, she shouldn't be anything but grateful. After this, after the relative pain of the operation, she would be free to seek higher power levels, higher than any her race could even dream of… and it was only pain, after all.

She slid from the chair onto the hard floor, boosting herself into the air in a lotus position with a well-placed ki barrier, and closed her eyes, clearing her head. She had to focus on directing all feeling from her senses to her mind—she needed an anchor for her thoughts. That anchor came in the form of her father—her Saiyan father, she had to be precise.

She focused on how much she aspired to be like him, to be cold, detached, unmoved, unhurt. He was the epitome of all that she dreamed she might be someday—nothing could ever hurt him, physically or emotionally. He would never be hurt like she had been hurt, and perhaps if she focused on becoming just like him enough, she might actually achieve it—that level of indifference she been fantasizing about for years… she wanted it so badly.

"Make me like you, Father…" she begged of no one.

"So, you mean to go through with it, then, do you Saiyan? You feel confident your… companion will agree to the terms?" Kiran, the head of the Selekian reconstructive surgery branch, questioned Vegeta once more, still trying to deter him.

It didn't work in the least, and he merely returned a curt, "Yes, for the last time—if I have to repeat myself once more I may consider foregoing payment and simply resort to threatening you simpering cowards into performing the procedure."

Kiran nodded solemnly, his grave face reflecting his reluctance to comply. He and his associates had made it quite clear that they would have no part in the pre-procedure ritual about to take place in the very lab they were standing in; their high morals would not allow them to condone them standing by while the Saiyan prince crushed the child's bones into dust—they would merely wait until he'd finished and "tidy up" by performing the restoration and enhancing technique.

In a final effort to convince the alien in their midst to abort the procedure, they'd explained in no uncertain terms that no pain-killing drugs would be supplied on their part—though they could provide them, the Seleks hoped that the prospect of putting his "daughter" through so much unnecessary pain would be too much for Vegeta and he would immediately abandon the idea and leave their planet.

However, they neglected to take into account the fact that Videl's pain played no part in his decision to have her undergo the process—if she wanted to get stronger, then she would simply bear it. If she didn't, well… the girl didn't need to know how close he'd come to actually disposing of her once she'd reached her limit. That was all in the past thanks to the Seleks' technology.

Their technological might, though, was only surpassed by their pride, which prohibited them from offering sedatives to Vegeta anyway once they realized he still meant to go through with the process; better the girl be submitted to the torture of having her bones broken one by one while still conscious than for the Seleks to go back on their word.

"Now," Vegeta began again sharply, "let's talk method of payment—I've got a nice model of a top-of-the-line Gravity Chamber I'd like to give you a tour of."

"Close your eyes," was all he said, voice completely devoid of emotion. She was tempted to question why—why should she? Was there something she should fear? It was, after all, only pain—she'd felt pain before, she could cope with pain.

But she did not ask, merely complied, and he thanked whatever gods were watching this display that she didn't. For he would have been forced to give his child—no, his student, he had to remind himself—the truth. That he didn't want her to see whatever twisted expression might cross his face as he carried out the task.

He would try—try being the key word—to keep his face neutral, to make it as swift as possible, but he feared the thrill he might get from grinding fist after fist into her soft flesh, reducing her bones to mere calcium powder. He didn't want her to see his eyes flashing in mirth as her face contorted into a muddled mass of bone and flesh… And when he crushed her skull…

He knew the task would not be easy, and strong as he was, her body would put up quite the fight. Her ribs, femurs, and skull would not crush as easily as others', for she had trained under him, traveled around the universe with him… trusted him… she would not die as easily as those pitiful earthlings—at least, he hoped she wouldn't.

And so, he said, "Close your eyes," and close them she did.

For she was the obedient, strong, willful daughter he'd never had, while he was the proud, strong, confident father she'd never had. Her old father had been a joke in life, she though coldly, a feeble human posing as a great martial artist—when he was merely the least weak of the planet's population. Were he faced with her new father, her mentor, her idol, he would crumble under Vegeta's cold black stare. She felt she did well not to crumple under it herself.

Where would he start? She wondered, forcedly relaxing her body. She knew if she tensed, it would only hurt more and take longer for the Saiyan to complete the job—and she knew also the reward that awaited them at the end. She would be stronger, stronger—strong enough to stand at his side, finally worthy.

All she saw was black, darker than his eyes, and she futilely tried to divert her senses to her ears, her nose, her tongue, anything but her skin—though she would never admit it, she was frightened, scared, and she silently prayed that Vegeta would not notice the tremor that ran through her body as he placed one gloved hand on her thigh, tracing a finger down her leg until her reached her right bootless foot. The katas… she tried to focus on her katas, the ones he had taught her to practice in times of intense stress… focus, focus…

But she couldn't, for lurking in the back of her mind was still the fear… 'Don't hurt me… I don't want it to hurt again…'

It was one thing to be hurt in battle; for there, you could see your enemy, see him clearly as he fired blast after blast, blow after blow, you could look into his eyes as he hurt you and hate. It was so easy… in battle.

But this was no battle, he'd made her close her eyes; she couldn't hate him, and she couldn't get revenge for the pain he was about to put her through as she could get revenge on any other enemy. He was her mentor, her father—he would never hurt her without reason… would he?

She reflexively tensed at the faint pressure his hands exerted on her dainty foot—at least, faint at first. He squeezed a bit harder, then she felt him place his other hand upon her foot as well… harder.

"Don't scream," he'd told her earlier, "Focus on the katas, and do not scream—it is demeaning for any warrior to yield to so base an instinct as voicing pain. The only yell I ever want to hear from you is one of triumph, am I understood?" Oh yes, she understood. She understood perfectly.

Her eyes scrunched, and she felt a moan working its way up her throat… more pressure, and she heard rather than felt the muscles in her foot ripping as they were torn from the bones. In an effort to block the pain, she made herself focus on another, and clamped her teeth over the sensitive skin of the inside of her cheek. The harder he squeezed, the harder she pressed her jaw.

Then, she heard the first snap—one bone broken. One… and already a fire was searing through her body; instincts told her to jerk away her leg, to relieve herself of this torture, but she just ignored it and pressed down even harder. Her attentions were jerked from tactile to gustatory sensation as a familiar taste flooded her mouth, nearly choking her as it made its way down her throat… blood.

But the coppery-iron taste served only to distract her for a moment, when another crack pervaded her senses. But he couldn't just break the bones, oh no—he had to crush them, or what good was the Selekian rebuilding technology?

The technology was 'pasting' together the crushed fragments with a substance found nowhere else in the universe. It'll triple, even quadruple, the strength and durability of the bone it was subjected to. Videl's human bone composition was surprisingly compatible with the chemicals, so much that her bones will be quintuple their original potential. To a Saiyan skeletal strength and durability—with the potential to increase in strength with every healed damage.

The rubbery white chemical the Selekians called Noesb (after the inventor of the matter), actually grows stronger and more durable, to a hard rubber like quality than brittle, every time their molecules are broken. She will have bones able to sustain higher ki, higher assaults—just stronger than any human could.

Forcing herself to relent her assault on the inside of her cheek, she was now made to focus all thought again on Vegeta's work. Oh, it hurt… it hurt…

But, mustn't cry. He said never cry, and she would sooner strike herself down than disappoint him, he who had taken her in, who had taught her to strengthen herself, who had instilled in her soul a confidence never felt by a human before—the confidence which ran wild in the blood of a Saiyan. For this, she thanked him, and would bow to his slightest whim. Submit herself to the torture of having her bones crushed—by him—why not? She trusted his judgment that the ends would far compensate for the means.

So then, where had this sudden spike of fear come from?

Her mind was too clouded with pain, her thoughts too befuddled, and she couldn't even remember the first step of the kata now… he would be very angry with her when he found out about this… very angry. That she should lose herself in the face of pain, it was unspeakable! She must rise above this, must cope as he'd coped.

But, she needed… she needed him… he made her strong. It was her trust in him, her comfort on the security his strength provided, which gave her strength. She needed to see, needed to see…

She opened her eyes.

To Be Continued…

Ann's notes: SMOC!! How's that for a smoc-y ending? Well, there's a whole lot of interaction between Vegeta and Videl we skipped out from—only to save for later gqoa flashbacks, mwhehehehe. Anyhoo, the Comic-Con 2003 Sage and I went to was a blast! Sage actually made a site from the photos she took and the doodles I made of our adventure there. I do actually prefer Sage NOT to show you guys because of the horrible mug-shot of me. (Noooo! I'm supposed to be STUNNINGLY BEAUTIFUL dammit!) Ooh, and kudos for Penchy-chan (fellow sister in the Evil Authoress clan) in guessing (nearly correct) who wrote which part! If you're familiar with mine and Sage's writing styles, it should be pretty clear who wrote what ^^ Special thanks for two devastatingly handsome guys, that let us taunt and mock them, in appearing *coughwithouttheirconsentcough* in this chapter. Get us 50 reviews, and the special is coming up!!

Sage's notes: See? I did good this time, didn't I? I actually let you write your notes first, I waited! Yes, it was difficult… So apparently this thing is nearly Veritas length, how you people like THEM apples? And you might be interested to know that much of the first part (particularly the "father" scene) was discussed at Comic-con—we sacrificed precious minutes of browsing time for our loyal reviewers! The rest of the time was spent trying to figure out just HOW to pronounce "gqoa". And our first SMOC-worthy chapter! Is it worthy of a fic where Ann's a co-author? And since we all just love Ann SO much… www.geocities .com/angst_and_cliffhangers. I know everyone would LOVE to see our mugs… (And Ann, you better not delete that link when I send it to you!)

(Ann: NOOOO!! NOOOOOO! HOW COULD YOU!?!? Blasted gqoa evil-ness!!! Remember everyone, that mug-shot is not a accurate representation of me—man, it's even worse then my driver's license….)

Glossary of Evil Terms:

- Gutter (gut-ter): Referring to the sanctuary of evil authoresses whenever they 'melt' into fan-girl puddles upon exposure to 'drool factors' or even certain suggestive innuendos. It has the initial appearance of a normal gutter found in big urban cities, however, the interior has been thoroughly refurbished with luxurious furniture—including entertainment systems and a mini bar. The term is also frequently used as an adjective, gutter-ish, for objects or situations that cause 'melting'.

Evil Counter: 20

(despite popular belief, Evil Counter-chan actually counts the number of times 'evil' appears in the reviews—no matter the context. *evil grin*)