Author's note: Hey, guys, thanks for the reads, & the reviews. I love getting those alerts. Please feel free to keep them coming, & let me know your thoughts as the story progresses.

Author's note 2: You may have noticed that I mistakenly uploaded chapter 60 as chapter 61 … that's what I get for not checking files prior to posting. Please enjoy this, actually new, chapter 61.

Written by: SparkerLightning.

Edited by: StevenBodner

Chapter 61

Decades ago, on Planet Vegeta

Deep blue leather was stretched across the surface of a large wooden desk. Crimson curtains hung in pairs along one wall, blocking the moon from shining into the royal chamber. Thick, purple, carpeting covered the floor, just as silky white sheets covered the nearby bed. Matching the sheets, a pair of boots sat atop the desk, their wearer, the king, was reclined in his chair. Gazing past his feet, into his feet, was the king's most prized warrior subject.

"How is my son doing with his training?" King Vegeta asked the General of his armies. "Is he doing as well as he should be?" He intertwined his fingers behind his head, looking down at Nappa.

Nappa proudly stood before his kings, feet apart, and hands behind his back. "He is doing extremely well. He is already capable of fighting off, and killing, multiple Saibamen at once. There have been a few close calls, but I haven't had to get involved in weeks now, Vegeta."

King Vegeta smiled in satisfaction. His father was strong, his grandfather was strong, he was strong, and now, his son was strong.

"That's good." He warmly nodded. "At this rate, he'll be stronger than me by the time he's ready to claim a bride. And, what of the other boy?"

The wind was taken out of Nappa's sails. There was no good news to be shared there. There was no pride to be had, and no power to share.

"He is, coming along." Nappa looked down, focusing on the soles of King Vegeta's boots.

Vegeta pulled himself more upward. His chair's back followed him as he almost sat up straight. Keeping his hands behind his back, he sternly looked at his subject. "Nappa, how long have you and I known each other? I know it's been a while, a long while, but when did we first meet?"

Not knowing where his old friend was going with this, Nappa hesitantly responded. "Several decades and counting, in battle."

The king leaned further backwards once more. Looking at his ceiling, the cluster of crystals and glass bulbs that hung over his sleeping head glistened in what little light was allowed to come in through the curtain. "And have I ever given you a reason to distrust me? Perhaps when I rescued you from the Tuffles the first night we met? Or, when I made you my successor prior to my producing of an heir? Or possibly when I allowed you, alone, to train my children? Did something in those actions cause you to distrust you? Or perhaps it's our familiarity? The fact that outside of my immediate family, you, and you alone, have been permitted to call me by my name in private?"

"No, Vegeta." Nappa's posture loosened as he thought through the king's words. He was right, Vegeta was a reasonable man. He wanted what was best for his people first and foremost, and he barely considered himself, or his children, a factor in that.

"Then Nappa, please tell me. Why is it that you insist on lying to me?" He crossed allowed his head to fall back to the heavily cushioned chair as he crossed his arms on his chest. Closing his eyes, confident in his safety, in his dominance in his domain, he awaited a reply.

Nappa paused for a moment. He didn't lie. He may have played the boy up a little more than he was worthy of, but he didn't lie. He was weak, but he was growing. He was coming along. Not as well as the others of his age, but progress was progress.

"He is, what did you say, coming along?" King Vegeta asked, keeping his eyes shut. He could almost feel Nappa's presence, his warmth, his power.

"Yes." Nappa asserted. "He is improving. Not as quickly as I'd like, but the numbers don't lie, he is growing stronger by the day."

Vegeta slowly exhaled, the noise sounding similar to that of a purring lion. "Be specific with me, Nappa." He slowly inhaled. Silently. "How powerful is Tarble?"

"Yes, Vegeta." Nappa lowered his chin slightly. He knew he was safe, and he suspected the boy would be as well. He couldn't help but feel as if he was betraying the lad though. Sure, he wasn't strong yet, but he had royal blood in his veins, he had the potential to be great. He just needed more time, time to grow stronger, time to adapt into a warrior. "His power level is currently ninety."

King Vegeta's eyelids opened slightly. He could barely see a sliver of his oldest companion, but it was enough to read his body. "Ninety, not nine hundred? Is that correct?"

Nappa looked away. "Yes, Vegeta."

"Did you know..." Vegeta opened his eyes to look at the door. Closed. They were still alone. "... that a child was just born, less than a fortnight ago, who's power level exceeds yours at times?"

Nappa's eyebrow raised incredulously. "Yes, I did. An absolute outlier. His parents are powerful, yes, but by no means should their child have processed that kind of power."

"He, is coming along." Vegeta let his eyes close once more. "He won't be for long, but that's what I call power. And yet, you say that Tarble is coming along? That he is improving?"

Nappa straightened his back slightly. "I would like to ask what you mean, regarding the newborn, but fear I'd be overstepping if I did so."

"You wouldn't be." Vegeta smiled. "But that doesn't mean I'd answer either. I have plans for him, which if they go as they should, don't involve you. So, back to the children who currently matter. Tarble?"

"When your son, when Tarble, was born, his power level was 16 if I recall correctly." Nappa tapped his scouter, pulling up the power progression of Tarble and quickly scanned the data. "If he continues growing six times stronger every three years, he'll be stronger than me by the time he's ten years old. I'd call that coming along nicely, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I would. Very much so." He adjusted himself, so that his hands were resting on his stomach. "But, how common is it for a Saiyan's power to be multiplicative like that, opposed to additive?"

Nappa's face grew uncomfortably neutral. "It's, uncommon at best, Vegeta." The boy was a Saiyan royal, he had to be allowed to grow, he had to live up to his bloodline. He had to reinforce that power is power, and power is a gift to be passed down.

"And, if his power is like mine? Like yours? Like almost every other Saiyan's power? Then what does he look like?" He pressed his eyes together, forcing the thoughts of his youngest son away. He was a prince, a potential king, and as such he shouldn't be this weak.

"His power would be roughly 500 by the time he was fully grown." Nappa knew where this was going, and his mind was racing to find an alternative.

"He is improving." Vegeta spoke softly. "But he's not improving fast enough. At this rate he'll be third class, at best. It's been long enough, we've taken enough risks for the boy. We can no longer cross our fingers and hope that his existence is not discovered." He forced his eyes to stay dry. "You know what would happen if it came out that a royal, the king, the most powerful Saiyan, had a weak offspring."

Nappa didn't want to push his king too much, but there wouldn't be another chance like this. "Probably the same thing would happen if a low class nobody had a powerful child, say, as strong as an elite?"

That boy was an asset, a twinge of gold in the lead Saiyan race. If something were to happen to Tarble, as an outlier among royals, the newborn would get the same treatment, and Nappa found it impossible that anything but the best would lay on the path set out for that boy.

"Agreed." Vegeta nodded. "And I will not be able to do what it takes regarding Tarble. I have no such issue addressing Broly though. Take care of runt, and I'll take care of the Broly. Alright?"

Nappa swallowed a lump in his throat. No, he was not being ordered to do what he thought he was. "Yes, Vegeta." He hesitated for a moment before continuing.

"I would never question your decisions, and I do not intend to do so now." He cleared his throat. "But, please, be specific. What would you like me to do with him?"

"Nappa, you are the only person I could ask to do this task. You are the only person I could trust, both to complete the task, and to do so in absolute secrecy." Vegeta opened his eyes and lifted his head. "I am not asking you to harm him. I would never ask anyone, could never allow someone, to harm a royal. No, despite his low power, his blood carries my genetics, my father's genetics, my father's father's genetics, and my son's genetics. He must live, but, not here, not on Planet Vegeta." He locked eyes with Nappa, unblinking. "Take him somewhere, somewhere where he will be safe, where he can continue my bloodline. If something ever happens to me, to the Saiyans, he will carry on our legacy." He blinked. "You take Tarble, and I will take Broly."

"Thank you, Vegeta." Nappa half bowed before returning upright. No, he wasn't here as a soldier, as a subject, as an around boy, he was here as a friend of Vegeta, as a trusted confidant. "I will make sure to find somewhere he can thrive, where he will hopefully meet his potential."

"That would be ideal." Vegeta nodded. "However, the priority is the continuity of our race. Do not put him somewhere that he could be killed. Put him somewhere that he can thrive, and create his own kingdom, local to the planet. Am I clear?"

"Yes, absolutely." Nappa said, before repeating the directions back to him. "Tarble must disappear. He must go somewhere safe enough that he can survive, where he can rule, but also somewhere where he can father the next empire if something happens to yours. Correct?"

"Yes, that is correct." Vegeta closed his eyes and relaxed once more. "Now, speaking of outliers, how is the other child in your care doing?"

Nappa took a moment to process what he meant. "Raditz, the son of Bardock?

"Yes." Vegeta nodded. "Raditz. How is he doing? His father set the bar very high."

"He progresses as any low class Saiyan would." Nappa shrugged. "He's perfectly normal in every way I have seen. He's not particularly smart, he's not particularly strong, but nor is he soft or weak. He'll make a fine soldier, but not an exceptional one."

"I'm not certain if that's a good thing or not." Vegeta admitted. "We have a pair of powerful Saiyans, myself and Bardock, with weak children. We have a weak Saiyan, Paragus, with a powerful child."

He lifted his chin, exposing his throat. "On one hand, Bardock was born weak, his eldest son is weak, and his youngest son, just born a short while ago, has a power level of two. This shows that power is genetic as we've thought. On the other hand, Bardock's power is climbing rapidly. I would never admit this outside of this room, but he is likely my equal at this point. And that, Nappa, alongside the existence of Broly, seems to indicate that this is all bullshit, that power can be obtained, and there is nothing special about one family opposed to another."

Nappa wisely kept his mouth shut.

"What do you think?" Vegeta opened his eyes and looked through Nappa. "Have we been wrong? Or are Tarble, Bardock, and Broly, just flukes?"

Nappa thought for another moment before responding. In measured tones, he believed he knew what he was talking about ."I, I think they're flukes, Vegeta."

"And why is it that you think that, Nappa?" Vegeta maintained eye contact.

"Those are three examples, one of which was born decades ago. While they're all worth investigating now, there are only three of them. When an overwhelming majority of our brothers and sisters fall within the boundaries of what we'd consider normal, it doesn't really matter if a third-class grunt becomes as powerful as a king, or if the son of said king is weaker than a standard newborn." His eyes bulged. "No offense. We've been calling them outliers, and I think that's exactly what they are. If Saiyans had the kind of potential Bardock exhibits, we'd all be as powerful as Bardock. If we all had the potential to produce a child between the power of Tarble and Broly, we wouldn't have a well-maintained class system."

"You're probably right." Vegeta nodded as he dropped his feet to the floor. "Now, you have been assigned a new mission with your team, in addition to the task we discussed. I'll assume both are in good hands."

"They are, Vegeta." Nappa smiled as he bowed once again.

"Perfect. Now, see yourself out, and send in my next, meeting, on your way." Vegeta returned the bow as Nappa turned to head towards the door. 'It was nice seeing you again, Nappa. We must meet like this more often."

"Agreed, my king." Nappa nodded over his shoulder as he reached the door.

As Nappa left, King Vegeta walked to the wall covered in curtains. Pulling on a looped gold chain, the purple fabric parted. It was night, the moon was up, nearly full. A large balcony stretched a dozen yards in a semicircle around the center of the doorway. A single Attack Ball occupied the space, destined to hopefully never return.

The door opened, and a long moment later closed once more.

King Vegeta folded his hands behind his back, under his cape, and waited for the approaching footsteps to stop. When they did so, he heard the familiar sound of a knee hitting the floor, and the unfamiliar sound of a baby beginning to babble.

Paragus bowed his head, over his newborn, behind the king's back. "You summoned me, King."

"Yes, I did." Vegeta inspected the man through his reflection in the glass. He seemed exhausted, as if he hadn't slept in days, but an unexpected energy was present as well. "It has been too long, Paragus, since I requested you join me."

"Yes, King." Paragus kept his head bowed. His child opened his mouth, and he quickly put a hand over it. "Thank you for inviting me, us, here this evening. How may I, we, serve you?"

"I had intended to ask if you knew why I summoned you here today." He slowly turned to face Paragus, but stayed near the glass. "Do you have a guess?"

Paragus lifted his gaze slightly. He looked up the King, boots, pants, tail wrapped waste, and chest, no higher. "I believe it is because of my son, Broly?"

"That is a fair guess, as you were instructed to bring him. But do you suspect a reason as to why I requested you both join me?" Vegeta looked around the room. This wasn't his throne room, this wasn't his meeting hall, this was his private quarters, where very few outside his immediate family would ever be allowed. The fact that he requested Paragus come here, of all the rooms in the palace, should have indicated that something unusual was at foot.

"I… could guess, but I would be afraid of offending you, my King." Paragus lowered his gaze once more as Vegeta approached.

"Speak your mind." Vegeta stopped only two paces away from the proud father. "I assure you, there is nothing you could say that would change the course of this evenings events."

That was menacing. That was intimidating. That wasn't good. "I… I assume it is because of my son's power. I would hope you brought us both here today, so he could be brought into custody of the royal family. He would be a tremendous asset for the young prince."

Vegeta crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Very bold of you to assume he could be of assistance to us."

Paragus' blood ran cold.

"But you are on the right track." Vegeta held out his hands to the kneeling Paragus, and a moment later Broly was placed in his arms. "When he was born, his power level was just under 1,000, correct?"

Carelessly he examined the child. His hair, his eyes, his tail, all perfectly generic, but deep within, the power he processed, what a specimen.

Paragus felt as if a shield had been ripped from his arm, and an enemy spear was pointed at his throat.

"Yes, King." He nodded slightly, raising his eyes slightly. "And, at times, his power has reached nearly ten times that."

"A power level of 10,000, at only a few days old." Vegeta closed his eyes for a moment, picturing his family tree. "Myself, my bride, my father, and his father, we are all roughly at the same level as this newborn. Our top generals, do not approach this boy's power. A few elite soldiers, not enough to even form a squad, are on this boy's level. Paragus, you must be proud."

"Yes, sir, I am." Paragus lowered his head once more. "Thank you, King Vegeta."

"I am happy for you." Vegeta's voice was sincere. "Your son is exceptional. Your son is unique. I am happy for you, for spawning such a child. I am happy for the entire Saiyan race, we are made better by his birth." He closed his eyes for a moment, the baby smelled, the baby likely smelled like all others, not that the king would be familiar. He handed Broly back to his father. His voice softened and deepened, he continued speaking, slower, more intentionally. "Unfortunately, your son poses too large of a threat to us. That is to you, to me, and to our entire civilization. If he were to transform, he would cause incredible damage before being, unavoidably, killed."

Paragus took Broly from his king, and wrapped him in his arms. They were alone. The king didn't have a scouter. The curtains were open, and no guards were apparent. He could blast the windows, he could escape with his son.

"He is unique, and thus his life will be as well. He will not be allowed to live on Planet Vegeta, not now, and possibly not ever."

On Planet Vegeta? That meant he was allowed to live, he wouldn't be executed.

"You have a choice to make, and I will not influence it." Vegeta placed an open palm on Paragus' head and tilted it back. He forced eye contact. "Option one, we execute Broly. Right here, right now. You could hold him, comfort him, and I will destroy him before he has a chance to destroy us."

"No." Paragus barked.

King Vegeta tightened his grip on Paragus' skull. It wouldn't take much to crush it in his palm, but that wasn't his desire, not now. He had to enforce rule, he couldn't allow someone to speak out of turn, but at the same point, it was understandable. "Option two, we exile him. Right here, right now. The pod on the balcony has had its tracking systems disabled. I will program his course, I will put him in the pod, and he will be sent away to his own planet, much as any other child. Except, he would not return."

Paragus tried to speak, but no sound came out.

Vegeta released his grip on the man's head and returned his hands to his sides.

After opening and closing his mouth twice more, Paragus was finally able to speak. "Please, King Vegeta, there must be an alternative."

"My decision has been made. Under no circumstance will Broly be allowed to live here." He turned his back once more. There was a correct decision, there was a choice Paragus needed to make, for himself, but more importantly for the Saiyan race. "I have my preference, and if you do not state yours, I will enact mine."

Paragus chewed his lip. Send Broly away, he thought. Let him live elsewhere. Let him live among others. Let him rule others… but, if he was captured, if he was killed. He was too special. He was too valuable. He couldn't let him go out on his own, he couldn't risk this potential going to waste. He couldn't let this potential go to aiding potential enemies.

He could be executed. That would be it. Broly would be dead. Paragus would return to his regular station. There would be no more talk of it. There would be no more potential, good or bad. There would be no mystery. There would be no purpose for life if Broly died.

"King, may I ask a question?" Paragus bowed his head once more, preparing to beg at his king's feet if he was so required.

"You may." King Vegeta weaved his fingers into Paragus' hair and pulled his head back once more. Again, forcing eye contact.

Paragus tried to look away, but found each time he did a wave of pain radiated out from Vegeta's hand. "If you exile him, would I be allowed to accompany him?"

"You are a valuable soldier." King Vegeta lied. He didn't know Paragus as anything more than the weak father of Broly. He may have had power, and he may have been as strong as Nappa, but that could be replaced, Broly could not. "I would not allow you to desert your duties just to maintain a sentimental bond."

Paragus shattered in Vegeta's hand. He expected that, but for a moment he had hope.

"However..." Vegeta lowered his voice. "... I intend to promote you to be under my direct control, if your decision aligns with mine."

Paragus clutched Broly to his chest. "And, if my decision does not?"

Vegeta formed a purple ki ball in his right hand and held it between his face and that of Paragus. "Whichever decision you make, I will honor. If your choice aligns with mine, I will promote you. If your decision does not, if I cannot trust your judgment, I will kill you to spare our people your incompetency."

Broly would die. That was it, that was the answer. If Broly was exiled, he'd be a threat. If Broly was exiled, Paragus would be executed.

But, if Paragus chose to let Broly die, then, he could be trusted. He would have made the hardest decision a Saiyan father could. He'd be ending his own legacy, for the sake of the Saiyan race. He would be allowed to live. He would continue growing stronger. He could avenge his son's death by killing the king, by killing the prince, by destroying the family that made him destroy his own.

Paragus whispered the dried lips. "Exile."

He closed his eyes, bracing for death. He could face it, he was ready. He did his job. He spread his seed. He produced a powerful heir. One day, when he was older, even if just slightly stronger, he could return to Planet Vegeta, he could get his revenge, and continue his legacy. Power begets power. Paragus was normal, the birth of Broly as anything more than a generic soldier was complete chance. Broly though, Broly could be legendary, his children, Paragus' grandchildren, would be legendary. Whether he knew himself as a Saiyan or not, he would conquer, the planet he lands on, the stars around it, and the Saiyan race. It wouldn't matter if he knew about the events of today, as his domination of the universe was assured.

The warmth from the energy disappeared.

"Correct." King Vegeta said, lowering Paragus to his feet. "It is decided. Your son will go into exile, and you will now work directly for me. Your days of purging planets is over, no, I have a special task for you."

Paragus blinked in confusion. Consciously, he loosened his grip of Broly. It would take more effort than it should, but he risked crushing the infant in fear. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I agree, exile is the correct choice." Vegeta crossed his arms and returned to the window. "You see the potential of your son, as do I. You value his life, more than your own, as do I." The pod was a slightly older style. With outdated technology the shell was larger, and as a result the interior was as well, perfect for an adult and a young child, possibly even a teen. "You made a smart decision, and I can trust you."

"King Vegeta ..."

"Stop."

Paragus did so immediately. This wasn't the worst case, he'd, he'd just have to handle things himself. He'd have to destroy the royal family, take the Saiyans for himself, and then find Broly. He'd almost certainly be alive, and thriving. It would only be a few years, he must be able to find a path forward by then.

"Now, I already have a mission for you." Vegeta looked over his shoulder, Paragus hadn't moved. Indicating with two fingers he ordered his subject to approach. "All records will show that you and your son were executed tonight."

He put a hand on Paragus' shoulder. "But your son is being exiled, and you are being ordered, directly, by your king, to go with him."

"I'm sorry..."

"You will be..." King Vegeta adjusted his grip to squeeze the back of Paragus' neck. "... if you interrupt me just one more time."

Paragus did not speak.

"Your son is entirely unique. His genes will not be allowed to leave the Saiyan race, even if that means, crossbreeding." He expected a comment, and was glad to not receive one. "You will raise your son for the Saiyans. You will train him to battle, you will train him to respect his superiors, and you will raise him to be as powerful as possible. He will breed with any halfway worthy species you come across. And you will raise his children. You will raise his children for the Saiyans. You will train his children to battle, you will train them to respect their superiors, and you will raise them to be as powerful as possible."

Raise Broly. Power. Respect. Grandchildren. Power. Respect.

"You will be required to stay discrete. No one, no Saiyan, no Frieza Force member, no parent to Broly's children, will be allowed to know about this and live. You, Broly, his offspring, are a life raft for the Saiyan race, one that will be repurposed if not needed." He returned his hand to Paragus' shoulder. "If something happens to me, my family, my Saiyans, you are to come out of the shadows. You will avenge us, and you will form a New Saiyan Empire, in the image of our great society."

He gently squeezed Paragus' shoulder. "However, if at any point Broly, or his children, no more than a small team's worth, would be powerful enough to destroy Frieza, free us from his employment, then that will become your new mission. Once you have done so, once we are free to reclaim the glory, we shall reunite as equals, I have the organization, you have the power. I will produce a daughter, and the children she will produce with Broly will be our joint venture, our joint path forward, our joint legacy to conquer every planet in our universe."

Still no comment.

"Now, Paragus, you may speak."

"Thank you, King Vegeta. Thank you." Paragus had to consciously loosen his grip once again. He held in his arms either the future king of an entirely new Saiyan Empire, or the future of the royal family. "Thank you, my king. I… we, will not fail you."

"You are welcome, Paragus." King Vegeta opened the door and walked Paragus and his son onto the balcony. "Now, you will either avenge me if I fall, or you will destroy Frieza and join me, as the other grandfather to the most powerful pure blooded Saiyan to ever be king."

"Yes, King Vegeta." Paragus began walking of his own free will, coming to a stop beside the pod. "We will serve you well. We will raise an army, and Broly will make you proud, make me proud, make the entire Saiyan race proud."

"I expect nothing less." King Vegeta pulled the remote for the pod from his inside pocket. Pressing a button on it, the door opened. "I am sending you to a Class 3E planet."

He noticed a small flash of concern cross Paragus' face. "I'm not expecting you to purge it, not anytime soon. That would be a job for at least three squads of elites. No, live there, train there, and when the two of you are strong enough, take the planet, and continue progressing. As many species as you can, as many children as you can, as much power as you can, and remember, stay discrete. We can't risk Frieza finding out about you. Understood?"

Paragus nodded. "Yes, King." Slowly he stepped into the pod. Turning, he sat Broly on his lap.

"Good." King Vegeta stepped onto the door as well. Reaching in he pulled a scouter out of the charging station. It had a gold lens and chromatic finish. Burnt black into the control button was the Vegeta family crest. "This scouter has access to the royal's excessively encrypted channel. I expect regular progress updates. Every battle he fights, every child he produces, every time he moves, I want to be informed. If you do not communicate, I will not ignore the possibility that you have gown rogue. If you go rogue, I will find you, I will kill you, your son, and every last one of his spawn. Do I make myself clear?"

He again locked eyes with the proud father.

"Yes, King Vegeta. I understand." He bowed his head, and King Vegeta stepped off the door.

"Perfect. I look forward to your first report in..." King Vegeta tapped his scouter. "... six days."

"Yes sir, King Vegeta." Paragus held his hand over the launch button. He would wait for confirmation they were done.

"Be strong, stay safe, and by all means, keep Broly on track." King Vegeta nodded and turned his body sideways to the ship.

With that, Paragus pressed the button and the door sealed. As the ship rose into the air Paragus read the informational display on their destination. Saiyanoid beings, sparsely populated, and an average power level of three thousand. Yeah, 3E was right, this was not a planet for any individual, elite or not. He'd be fine though. He'd keep Broly alive until he could throw a punch, then they'd start hunting the locals, fighting, training, growing, breeding, and raising an army. The sleeping gas began to fill the pod, and Paragus relaxed into his seat, secure in his future.

Current day

Paragus put a hand on his son's shoulder, and nodded at Turles. "This man, this Saiyan, he wants to kill us. He doesn't believe in us. He doesn't believe in our cause. Broly, kill him."

Broly slowly rose to his feet, before barely bowing his head to his shorter father. Turning around, he was struck by who he saw there. His palm tree like hair, the shape of his eyes, it was him. Decades later, a life later, Broly still recognized him.

"Kakarot?" He asked, his eyes narrowing.

"What?" Turles asked, stepping away from the beastly presence. "No, Kakarot is my nephew. I'm Turles."

"KAKAROT!" Broly screamed as his aura burst to life around him. His father, their companions, Turles, and the surrounding structures, were blown back by the incredible energy he was producing. "KAKAROT!" He shouted once more, his black hair whipping behind his back.

In a flash Turles' world turned dark.

The Saiyan in front of him, mediocre by today's standards, an elite by the former, stood on shifting ground. When he called Kakarot's name, his feet were together. Anger flashed in his eyes. Hatred flashed in his eyes. Agony flashed in his eyes. The others were thrown away, trash in the wind.

Turles ducked into the maelstrom. Keeping one hand in front of his head, blocking the wind, he pushed his energy. Instantly his power reached its ceiling. Dancing with the power in front of him, his continued to rocket skyward.

He'd felt Frieza on Namek. He'd felt Cold in a life he had left behind decades ago. He'd faced incredible foes, people who could erase him with a thought, and now, every cell in his body was screaming at him that the first true struggle of his life was about to being. He had Goku, Gohan, and the others on Namek. He was useful to Cold by virtue of being a Saiyan. He'd never fought like this, not alone. Now, now it was him against the world, against the devil, and he knew no one would be coming to save him this time. No one would protect him. If he didn't fight, if he didn't refuse to die, this would be the end of his story.

Broly kept his gaze fixed on the slowly breaking Turles. He continued to scream. He continued pulling his power to the surface. The ground cracked beneath his feet. As a crevice formed, as his stance widened, he brought his arms out as well.

This was crazy, this was impossible.

Broly stepped forward. "KAKAROT!"

"I'm not Kakarot!" Turles bellowed into the approaching typhoon. "I am Turles, TURLES!"

Broly's massive, constantly increasing, power jumped.

The image of an Oozaru raced through Turles mind as Broly's green aura ignited. Ducking lower, he struggled to stay on his feet. As he began to lose ground, he began to charge forward, finding himself unable to approach the beast.

Broly chuckled to himself as he continued walking forward, pushing Turles backwards. Accelerating, bulldozing Turles with a wall of wind and energy, he returned his target's charge. While Turles couldn't gain an inch, Broly effortlessly, without physical touch, knocked Turles off his feet and into the nearest building. Continuing his bull's rush he smashed Turles into another wall, and a third, and a fourth… until they came to the city wall.

Turles slammed into the wall. If it was built just slightly less soundly, he would have crashed right through it as well. But, as it stood, he was roughly halfway through when Broly finally reached him.

Laughing manically at the unquestionable control he processed over the cause of his suffering, the source of his wrath, his toy, he grasped outward. Releasing his aura, letting gravity take hold of Turles once more, Broly grabbed him out of the air. With his massive hand on top of Turles' skull, with his meaty fingers digging into Turles' scalp, Broly took a moment to enjoy his impending victory.

Bringing Turles to his height, nearly touching their noses together, Broly screamed. The force of which made Turles' eyes widen in horror, his eye lids, cheeks, ears, and hair flapping in the breeze. Twitching his muscles, pulling his tenders, Broly closed his hands.

Dropping the partially puddled corpse to the floor, Broly panted in rage. Let it go. Let it out. Release it. It's over. Victory. Revenge. Pay back. Kakarot was dead. Kakarot was no more. He was here. He was with his father. They found more Saiyans. They found more companions. They were here. They were together. They had won.

Frieza was dead. Cooler was dead. Cold was dead. Prince Vegeta was dead. King Vegeta was dead. He had his revenge. The Saiyans' had their revenge. Now, it was time to look forward. His mission was complete. Their mission was not. The nightmare was over. The dream could begin.

Hundreds of yards away from Turles' corpse, Nappa pulled himself from the rubble. That, that was a Saiyan. That wasn't a Super Saiyan, that was a Saiyan. He knew he had the potential, he heard it from the time traveler. If he could do it, Broly could do it. They were going to succeed, and nothing, nobody, could stop them. Not the Cold Clan, nor the Super Saiyan and his family.

A few dozen yards away from Nappa, Raditz pulled himself free of the rubble. This, this wasn't good.

Author's note: There was absolutely no way Turles was going to win that one. Broly didn't even have a chance to transform.