Second Child
"You can't let this brat be born, Bardock!"
"Why not, Borgos?" He sighed, giving his friend and fellow elite force fighter a steady stare. "A brat's a brat."
"But after your firstborn produced such low levels, why mate with the same woman?" Shugesh asked, grabbing another slab of meat from the platter in the middle of the table and stuffing it in his mouth. "This one'll probably be weak, too," he added, bits of food flying from his mouth as he spoke.
Bardock grabbed his own piece of meat, waving it at his short, rotund friend. "You're just jealous because you have no woman of your own." He bit off a large hunk and drank deep from his cup of wine.
"But if you keep breeding weaklings," Fasha warned, "they'll geld you to keep from tainting the stock!"
"Then I won't have to worry about it anymore, will I?" Bardock pointed out. "Now eat up and get a good night's sleep. We leave at first light."
"That's right! Then the Land-Shark Team attacks!" Tora cheered, raising his wine glass. The others gave a warrior cry as they held up their own glasses, drained them, and slammed them back onto the table as one.
When the food and drink were gone, Bardock dismissed his team and returned to his quarters. He wouldn't admit it to the other warriors, but he looked forward to his second child. After Raditz, they'd believed Gine's eggs to be incapable of fertilization, having tried unsuccessfully for years even though most Saiyans would've given up and found another mate.
Then, finally, the reproduction scientists reported a successful insemination. His second child...a son... was growing safely in one of the many incubators in the nursery. He would never admit to the others that he didn't care about the infant's possible power level. The Saiyan race, after all, prided itself on its strength. Bardock only cared that the new life was the mating of himself and the one he loved.