A/N : Welcome welcome!! Having your online link cut off gives you lots of time to write. While I tried like hell to work on my existing stories they didn't want to speak to me. But this came thru loud and clear. Be warned now. This is a major AU. I know I know, before you even write it in your review. There is no way Vegeta and Bardock could have been the same age. That is why it is an AU people. There is one kinda vage lemon in here, just as a heads up. Bardock is a little OOC from what I see him in the beginning but this tale is more about Tarma's hard headedness than anything.

Disclaimer: pouts hard No I don't own it. If I did do you think I would share? snorts get real.

Prolog:

The room was a mass of confusion. People rushed back and forth. Flashes of white gowns stained red with blood. Raised voices filled with concern. Concern for the woman that lay on the bed. Labor had taken too long already. Kitta had been straining for over 30 hours to birth the child she held in her womb, to no effect. Dark eyes where dull with the all-consuming pain. Brown furred tail hung limply off the edge of the labor bed. She had hemorrhaged and still the child would not come. The saiyan woman's body was broken and the doctor feared that she would not live though the birthing trial. It was not all that uncommon for saiyan females to die during labor but he always tried his best to prevent it. Females where born less than 40 of the time. Suddenly the mother to be surged up on the bed and roared in pain. Her swollen belly contracted as she griped the sides on the bed. Nurses rushed to help the woman and the doctor look up from his post between her legs. A shock of raven hair emerged at last. Encouragements of "Bare down" and "Don't give up yet" filled the air. Shifting himself the doctor placed himself to help the child along, hands cupping the tiny head. Eyelashes fluttered and onyx eyes opened and fixed on his face. Kitta's next contraction saw the child spilled forth into the world and the doctor found himself pierced by the drowning gaze of the newborn saiyan female, it was almost like she could read his soul with her bottomless eyes. He shook off the odd feeling and worked to free the child of the last thread holding it to its mother. Kitta fell back on the bed with a great release of breath and she was quickly hustled off to a regen tank to heal the damage the birth had cost her. The doctor found himself alone with the infant. She had perfectly defined features, made up sharp angles and a hawk like nose and softly rounded eyes that set of her severe face. But these things did not set her apart from the many saiyan children he had delivered. It was the long almost red tail that whipped angrily around the little female and the penetrating gaze in her eyes. Beyond that she had not uttered a single sound as of yet. Not a growl or snarl. She just stared at him with her little eyebrow drawn into a frown and her strange colored tail cutting the air.

"Make a noise brat" The Doctor thumped the bottom of her feet hard with his fore finger. Still the newborn didn't utter a sound but her eyes narrowed and when he started his inspection of her he felt her razor sharp teeth clamp down on the meaty part of his hand. "Shit! You bit me you little bitch!" He jumped back, leaving the infant lying on the table. The amber tail snapped in the air, onyx eyes filled with what could only be described as humor.

The harsh landscape of Vegatsei shaped its people as surly as a potter shapes clay. Most of the planet was dessert like, harsh and unforgiving, few forests dotted the landscape and even fewer bodies of water. What little there was to be had was fought for and a struggle to keep, therefore the race that thrived there where just as hard and ruthless as the planet. After having spent many years as warring tribes in the wastelands the saiyans had finally been brought together by one strong leader. Uniting them into an almost unstoppable force. Under his leadership they wipe out the only competition for space on their planet. After which he turned his eyes to the sky and the planets beyond. Year after year the saiyan race spread thru out the galaxy any and all resistance to their domination was meet with ruthless response. Whole planets where purged of their inhabitants and put on the market or cultivated to feed the saiyan rulers. In the end all fell before the might of the saiyan army or pledged themselves to be subjects of the rapidly spreading empire. Even as it spread its fingers thru out the galaxy one thing was odd. Never once did they colonize a planet, they might set up garrisons in a concord sector to keep an eye on planets within but that was the closest they ever came. Many speculated in privet about this but they always came short of the plain and simple truth. Saiyan had no wish to make a home of any other planet but Vegetasei. Longing for the red sky and harsh landscape always drove them home time and time again.

Capital City, year 150 of the Saiyan Empire:

The streets of the market bustled with people. Biting laughter and sharp shouts the norm just as where the bands of children that weaved in and out of the legs of the older saiyans. Childhood was the first test for the children of the most ruthless race in the galaxy. Family bonding was not a term known to these people. At very young ages the children where set to tasks or sent out of their homes to fend for themselves. Many formed bands to survive. Market day was always the best time of the week to secure foodstuffs for the band for the week ahead. It off set the hunting skills of the older children. A very few where lucky enough to show skills that needed honing early in life. These where sent to the castle for special training and become scientists, doctors and technicians.

"Damn it Tarma. Come on!"

The young female whipped her head around and her amber colored tail thrashed, showing her anger at the other child. She was dressed in a simple midriff crimson shirt and a pair of tight calf pants she had gotten to tall for long ago, they barely reached her calves now. Her sole prized possession was the weighted training boot she wore and they where slightly to big for her feet.

At age 10 she was second in command of the small band she ran with. Kittro the leader of the band was a mere 2 years her elder and Tarma had come to loath him quickly. It had taken her 5 years to fight her way into a band. The odd coloring of her tail made her an outsider. Her battle for admittance had resulted in not only the death of the previous second but three of the other members as well. Baring her sharp white teeth at Kittro to make her displeasure of his tone know she turned her head back towards the crowd in the market. The old saiyan grandmother she had marked in her mind took slowly to the air, a bundle in her arms. It was not often a saiyan lived to see old age but it did happen. A long-lived race, the age of 80 was seen as middle age, so the female must have been close to pushing 130 or more, an easy mark for lone female like Tarma. Cocking back on her foot the young female prepared to take off after her mark. A hand forestalled her flight and her dark eyes turned to the face that was attached to that hand. A threatening growl tricked out of her throat. To his credit Kittro didn't remove his hand but he did flinch slightly before steeling himself.

"I told you 20 minutes ago we where leaving to return home. Now move your tail!"

Flames of rage danced in Tarma's eyes. With a purposefully slow moment she turned, her fist raised she brought it within inches of Kittro's face. Uncurling her fist with a speed almost to fast for him to see she flicked him hard on the end of his nose, then turned her back to him. The leader of the band stood stunned by the utter disrespect she had just shown him. He opened his mouth to issue a challenge he did not want to face when the air was suddenly filled with the sound of drums. Like the heartbeat of some massive creature the drums vibrated the very air. People stop in mid-step and moved to the edges of the street. Those in the air landed on rooftops. Tarma's eyes narrowed with interest and she weaved her way thru the throng of people to get a better look. Leaving behind a still sputtering Kittro in her wake. Elite guards marched down the street. Heavy boots thumped to the ground in time with the drumbeats. Fighting armor gleaming white emblazoned with the house of the guard under the royal crest of house Vegeta. It was a sight to swell any saiyan heart with pride. Following close on their heels in a less organized knot where the talented children that studied and lived on the castle grounds, unlike children on other worlds these did not chatter and point they walked with heads high and eyes forward. Their very manner bespeaking the fact that they knew they where special. Tarma eyed them with an ill covered contempt. Her tail, which she had wrapped neatly around her waist, twitched with the want to thrash. Here they where looking healthy and well fed while she half starved on the streets having to deal with the idiocy of people like Kittro. Brightest minds on Vegetasei, she thought, my tail! None of them looked special to her. Just another bunch of brats. The procession stopped in the market square, the drum however continued which meant this little show was not over yet. Sure enough a quartet of royal guards rounded the bend and come to a halt, booted feet thumping down with the last beat of the drums. While the elites cleared the area of everyone but the shop owners the royal guards fanned out reviling a boy about Tarma's age. It was clear from his outfit who he was and most moved away as soon as the Prince-Heir was visible. He stood arms crossed over his chest and very bored look on his features. The gold trimming on his armor and cape glittered in the afternoon light. Tarma back herself into a dark alcove. Just what where the Prince and a group of spoiled brats doing in the market, she wondered. Well she aimed to find out. A few moments latter she was crouching in the back of a merchants stall, making herself look busy. It was not all that unusual for a child to do a days work for one of the shop owners for a few credits, so the guards paid her no mind. She held the urge to snort her distain but only barely. The shop owner whom she had actually done odd jobs for from time to time gave her a long look before turning to the children now looking over the training gear he sold. The prince was still standing in the middle of the square. He looked like he planed to stay there, so Tarma turned her attention to the other children. Most where slightly older then her but not by much. It took all her self-control not to jump out of her skin when a voice suddenly spoke up behind her.

"Where are the boots?"

She spun on her heel and came face to face with a boy with the wildest hair she had ever seen, it seemed to stick out in every direction at once. There was a deep ragged scar on his left cheek that looked as if it was still healing. Unlike most of the children in the group he didn't look like he slacked on his training just because he was studying in the castle. He leaned with deceptive casualness against the edge of the booth but she could tell he was ready to move at any moment. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You mute girl?" He smirked and tilted his head to the side. Tarma bared her teeth in a silent snarl and he laughed. "Yeah I guess you must be." He leaned over the counter some. "Point then or are you dumb as well?" Tarma was over the counter and had him by the throat in the blink of an eye. She smashed him against the wall of the building the booth backed to, her tail thrashing a deep growl rumbling in her chest. She heard booted footsteps hurrying towards them when a voice cut the air.

"Hold!" The footsteps stopped but Tarma didn't look, her eyes where fixed on the boy in her grip. His eyes where wide but he held that smirk. "Now this could prove to be entertaining." She could see movement out of the corner of her eye.

"But Prince Vegeta……" said a deep voice.

"Oh shut up Napa. I was bored." The speaker moved to be in her line of sight. The Prince raised an eyebrow. "You going to kill him girl or just hang on to him for a while?"

The boy in Tarma's grip chuckled past the hand cutting his air in half.

"She doesn't speak, Sire."

Tarma growled deeper and shifted her eyes briefly to the heir to the throne of her planet.

"I don't speak to those I consider beneath my notice." She nodded an abbreviated bow. "Your Highness." Then shifted her eyes back, her hand tightening even more making the boy gag. The Prince barked a laugh and leaned to speak into the boy's ear.

"Hear that Bardock. She doesn't think you're worth the air it takes to speak." He clucked his tongue. "Sad really, you train so hard, yet here you are. Rendered helpless by a mere female that clearly lives on the street."

Bardock's eyes narrowed and his hands came up to grip the one around his throat. Leaning his weight on Tarma's arm he lifted himself up and kicked out at her gut. The blow sent her backwards and broke her grip on him. He got to his feet, one hand rubbing his bruised neck. The pattern of Tarma's fingers stood out in a nice purpling on his bronzed skin. He got into a fighting stance and Tarma dropped into her fight crouch. Her feet wide apart, hands loosely fisted at her sides. It was a stance she had taught herself and to this date it had never failed her.

"You will pay for that slight bitch." The boy said as he circled to one side, eyeing her unusual stance. The prince leaned against the wall, his arms once more crossed over his chest, amused smirk on his lips.

" A third class brawl in the streets. The day may have been worth getting out of bed after all."

The other children and the guards formed a circle around the two combats but still Tarma did not move, only her eyes followed the boy has he circled her. With a roar he charged her and Tarma simply bounced to the side, her whole body acting like a spring. He pulled himself up short and charged her again and once more she was not there where he arrived. His eyes narrowed even more. This time when he charged he watched her close and when Tarma went to move he spun a kick at her side instead of punching where she had been. The blow made her grunt softy. She grabbed him by the straps of his armor and pulled him close to her. With a feral grin she head butted Bardock in the nose. There was a crunch and blood flowed from his broken nose but the boy didn't flinch. He punched her in the jaw and Tarma released her hold, working her smarting jaw. The boy flashed forward and somehow got behind her. The roundhouse kick that landed on her spine took her totally off guard and she was pitched forward. Instead of fighting the motion she went with it, planting her hands on the cobblestones, she bounced into a handstand. Then she kicked out backwards, caching the boy in the gut. Bardock's breath went out of him in a rush. Straightening the boy charged her, snarling. The two young saiyans locked in combat for nearly twenty minutes, ribs cracked, lips where split, eyes blackened and other injuries given and received. Now they both stood bent at the waist, panting. It was clear to all that watched that it was a draw. Neither could get the upper hand.

"Tarma!" Kittro in all his stupidly landed in the center of the ring at that point. Every head snapped to the bandleader and the Prince rasied an eyebrow. He lifted a hand to stop the guards who started forward. The boys tail thrashed as he faced the younger female. "What in name of the Gods are you doing?" Tarma and Bardock looked at the intruder on their fight with contempt and Tarma growled low. Kittro seemed obvious to the danger he had placed himself in as he stalked towards her. "I am tempted to throw your tail out of the band right now girl!" He positioned himself in front of her. "Now I order you to get moving. Everyone else has already gone back." Tarma's dark eyes narrowed and despite her injuries she flashed forward and grabbed him by the throat. Lifting him slowly from the ground. Kittro gagged and tried to worm out of her hand, to no effect.

"It doesn't look like she likes you very much." The prince chuckled and pushed himself off of the wall, sauntering to where Tarma stood. Bardock was growling not happy that his fight was interrupted.

The prince on the other hand was greatly amused by the whole thing. A thought came to him and his smirk spread even more. He turned to the balding elite that wore a symbol of the royal guard.

"Napa. Get rid of that piece of riff-raff. We will be heading back now." He glanced at Tarma. "With an addition."

He did not give the big male a chance to voice any argument, he turned on his heel. The other three royal guards quickly formed a triangle around the prince-heir. The children formed into a knot with the other elites herding them. Napa narrowed his eyes but moved to do his princes bidding. Grabbing Kittro by the back of the shirt.

"I'll take him girl."

Tarma gave the bandleader one last squeeze before releasing him into the royal guards not so tender mercy. Bardock straightened himself and started to stagger after the group, throwing a look at the female.

"Don't think this is over."

Tarma chuffed and with a flip of her head followed as well. This day was turning out to be very interesting indeed.