If he didn't measure his next steps carefully, this could be where it all ended. All the time he had spent planning, every minor movement, each choice he had made to get him to this point, it could be as useful as a drop of water in a house fire.
He needed to be smart, he needed to prepare for every outcome.
Broly would not ruin this cake.
When he had come into the kitchen at ten last night, it was a pristine and sterile collection of chrome and steel. Now there were flour stains on the ceiling, cream on the counters, and the room reeked of a sweetness that would make even a child cringe. But it was the end result that mattered, and Broly knew that he was on the verge of greatness.
Baked Crasakasa was known to be one of the hardest dishes to make in the galaxy. Between the stirring, the sauces, the torching, and how time consuming it all was, it had gained such a notorious legacy that most bakers didn't even bother with it or the eleven hours it took to make it. However, somebody on the last planet they had invaded told him the recipe and said he might enjoy it, so here he was.
Actually, now that he thought about it, was tricking him into baking something this tedious her way of getting revenge for smuggling her off the planet? The poor woman would've probably preferred to have stayed on her homeworld and not be forced to find a new one, but it was a better alternative than what almost anybody else on the squadron would have done to her.
He hoped that he could see her again someday and apologize again and thank her for the recipe. Maybe the next time he saw her, it wouldn't have to be under such horrific consequences. Whatever her reasons Broly wished her nothing but the best, because even if it was tedious, working in the kitchen always kept the gems on his bracers and necklace a soothing blue.
As long as they were blue, he could keep being a person. He wouldn't have to be Him ever again, he could just be a good person living one moment to the next.
He blinked quickly as he brushed those thoughts away. Now was not the time for getting stuck in the past, it was time to get serious. This cake wasn't going to put the meringue on itself.
The Baked Crasakasa's difficulty came from not only how time consuming it was, but how quickly it could all fall apart. First you had to make a flat poundcake, that was the first layer. Next you needed to put the cake together with ice cream and let them sit together in a bowl for hours. Then after all that time passed, you needed to put a homemade meringue sauce on it, torch it, and hope you didn't destroy it with the flame or go so slowly that it melted itself.
He had already done all of the freezing and stirring, and now he was onto the final steps. If he could get the frozen mass of cake and ice cream out of the bowl without breaking either of them and then peel away the plastic holding it together, all that would be left was pouring on the meringue and torching it to brown it..
And then doing it again on the second cake. Why did baking and diplomacy always have to be so difficult?
He'd barely even slept last night, just took a small nap to get into the kitchen early, but with any luck this would all be worth it, everyone would enjoy the cake and get along while eating it, and the mission wouldn't require him to be awake for too long.
It was odd that Frieza was putting both them and the Ginyu Force on a mission together, but it was probably just for morale. Maybe Frieza thought that the saiyans were getting too full of themselves, so he would send in his elite team to make them realize how weak they were. Frieza had been in a bad enough mood to break Vegeta's back, so maybe it was just a continuation of that.
Oh well, not like he'd never had bones broken before, they had healing pods for a reason. Besides, it seemed unlike the Ginyus would just kill them for fun, especially if his plan went right.
Broly took in a big breath and carefully grabbed at the bowl's straps. After he had accidentally split a cake in half years ago, Beelo, the head chef for Frieza's ship, told him that preparing for an accident would always be easier than reacting to one. The most obvious accident Broly could see coming from this plate was getting the hefty chunks of ice cream and pound cake out of the frozen bowl, so he put some old apron straps underneath the plastic lining of the bowl for leverage, otherwise he'd be stuck trying to shake the frozen cake out of the bowl. With a few firm tugs on the straps the cake came out without a hitch and Broly exhaled his worries away as he placed it on a serving plate.
Knowing that time wasn't on his side and that the cake's ice cream layer could melt before he knew it. He began peeling the plastic wrap that was holding the frozen cream, looked at the spherical digital clock hanging from the ceiling with its glowing neon lights flashing eight-fifty-five, and knew. He stopped peeling immediately as a gentle knock came to the door.
"My boy! Are you up this early!?" The voice was trying to find itself and sounding more tired than confused, but it stumbled along in hushed shouts, "Don't tell me you're in there baking, I told you about baking with a time limit!"
The door opened to reveal Beelo, a stout and wrinkly green old man with gold almond shaped eyes that held as much kindness as they did exhaustion.
The old chef took one look around his kitchen, saw that Broly wasn't making a souffle, and raised his voice to a normal level as he said, "Do you have any idea how reckless this is?"
"It's fine." Broly's voice was quiet and monotone as he went back to his task.
"No, it is most not fine, most not fine at all!" The old man said as he got into the fridge, got out the second cake, and began working on it next to Broly. "The more you rush, the more likely you are to make a mistake. Life should be for going slow, not having a gun held to your head to bake a cake."
That was the way it always was on Frieza's ship, fearing death for causing any inconvenience. Of course with Beelo, it was more of the chef's anxiety speaking than any actual danger.
Replacing a chef who was able to cook well and discipline a staff strictly enough to meet the dietary needs of all of the aliens employed by Frieza was not exactly an easy task. Comprised of hundreds of alien species with millions of different allergies and billions of threats of cross contamination, it wasn't uncommon for soldiers in Frieza's army to survive dozens of missions only to die from malnutrition. After cutting the cafeteria-related fatalities to under one percent, Beelo got to exist on the ship with what he very sternly referred to as "Culinary Immunity."
Broly knew that he would probably be safe from Frieza's wrath. He'd been kept alive this long, so why would this be what got him killed? But, that was probably what everyone else thought too.
Broly gave the concerned chef a small nod as he finished peeling the plastic wrap, pulled the merengue for the cake out of the fridge, and quickly slathered it onto the cake with a rubber spatula.
"I've heard you're going for a mission soon," the older man said, "and let me tell you, it's been an honor working with you all these years."
"You say that every mission, Beelo…" Broly murmured. He appreciated the sentiment that his friend cared about him, but he'd made it back from so many missions already. Things were going to be fine, they always had been so long since Broly felt like he was in danger on a planet that he'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
Broly passed the merengue to Beelo and grabbed the baking blowtorch from a cabinet underneath him. After giving the torch a few test squeezes and enjoying watching the flame dance in the air, he started torching the merengue glaze on the cake, watching that it got the perfect level of browning on it.
"Yes," Beelo said, "and this is the last time you're going to hear me saying it. I put in my two weeks, I'm going back home, little wild one."
Broly couldn't believe what he was hearing. Beelo was leaving? He'd taught him everything he knew about cooking. He was the first person after Raditz and Kakarot who had even tried talking to him.
Even after Beelo had heard all the stories about what type of person Broly was.
For just a moment, Broly's gems had a fleck of green in them as his grip on the blowtorch tightened.
"Whoaaaaaho! Broly, keep it moving!" Beelo shouted as he pointed at the torch. "You're going to burn the cake!"
Broly snapped out of his trance and moved the torch away, but the damage was done. The merengue had been burned and the cream had melted. It could be put back in the freezer to preserve wha was left, but the damage couldn't be undone.
"I have to go," Broly said as he picked up the serving plate. He already knew they were working with the Ginyu Force for the next mission, and their ship was parked in the hangar. If he moved quick enough he could put it in their freezer in time.
"Wait," Beelo said as he grabbed him at his hip, "you want to get away from this conversation because you're afraid of having it. I get that. I've run away from plenty of these in my day, but you're about to make a basic mistake and I am not letting the final days of my kitchen be bearing witness to such bold blunders."
Beelo had somehow already completed the second cake and torched it to perfection. "This is the one you give to whoever you're in such a rush for." He pointed at the damaged cake. "That one you eat with your friends. Never forget that, OK?"
"To eat damaged cake…?" Broly asked.
"To put others first," Beelo said. "That's what cooking is all about, I thought I had taught you at least that much." The cook gave his protege a kind smile as he looked up at him, taking a moment to make sure he committed this moment to memory.
"I'm sorry," Broly said.
"As you always are, and don't ever change," Beelo said as he handed him his business card, "it's one of your most endearing qualities, may not be very saiyan, but it is very Broly."
Broly looked at the card with a pitiful look on his face. Had Beelo forgotten that he couldn't read?
"That's your next bit of homework, once you're able to read that. Find me. I only want to see you, not your saiyan or any other Frieza buddies. I'd like my home to avoid being a pile of rubble even in my retirement," he said, "My ship is already packed but I just wanted to make one last visit before I left. I'll see you next time."
Beelo gave Broly a brief hug. In that one second of parental love, for every planet he'd been on, for every interaction with a new society that he'd had, Broly had never felt a more alien interaction in his life.
"H…Hey Beelo," Broly said.
"Yeah?"
"Would you mind cutting the cakes for me? I … still haven't gotten very good at it."
Beelo sympathetically shook his head at Broly. "Remember, it's about technique. Not power."
Broly remembered the time he had cleaved the steel counter clean in half. "I remember."
The saiyan watched as his mentor channeled his meager amount of ki into the knife, causing it to glow with energy as he sliced the stone cold cake with such ease and speed that it looked as difficult as cutting carrots. His scouter didn't even pick up the chef's power level as being above two.
Beelo pushed the two cakes back to Broly, passed him his knife, and headed out the door. He was unsure of when they would next meet, but Broly would make sure to find him again someday. If he ever got to stop being a soldier.
Broly hurried down the hallway to the Saiyan Barracks. He didn't want to look like he was in a panic, and could barely even summon the energy to be in one, so he walked as fast as he could while holding the two cakes on their serving plates in the palm of his hands.
He swerved through foot traffic without a word, kept the cakes away from soldiers who tried to reach out for them with his silent glares, and thought that he would make it back to his destination with relative ease.
Until he was interrupted.
"Whoa, Broly!" Kakarot said as he seemingly appeared out of thin air and stepped out in front of him. "Those smell good! Can I have some?"
"On the ship." Broly's voice was flat, but then he got a good look at Kakarot, seeing his new armor and the bright red mark on his face made the tone of his voice shift, confusion growing with each word. "You have new armor? For the mission?"
Kakarot's hand was slowly creeping towards Broly's cake, perhaps hoping that if he went slow enough, that Broly wouldn't notice it was happening. He was incorrect. Kakarot couldn't even hide that he was trying to keep direct eye contact with him as he spoke slowly, as if he could hypnotize him with his words. "For the mission… No … It's for being so respected … same reason I got hit in the face actually."
Broly lifted his hands up, putting the cakes far out of Kakarot's reach as his fellow soldier only barely came up to his chest. "Respected? By Vegeta?"
Kakarot stopped reaching for the free dessert, instead crossing his arms over his chest he grinned at Broly. "Vegeta respecting me enough to give me something nice? I'm pretty sure Vegeta only respects me enough to beat me half to death instead of just doing it with an energy blast, but that's just his way of saying he loves me. Frieza gave these to us a few minutes ago. Maybe he's starting to like us enough to start going easy on us."
Broly's confusion only grew. He'd knew Frieza was the one who found Kakarot, but did he do anything that would make the tyrant like him? Well, he obviously didn't like him that much, or else he wouldn't be giving him marks on his face, although it was a far cry away from what Vegeta was getting. A stinging mark was definitely preferential to a broken bone.
Maybe Frieza did have a soft spot for Kakarot. If their tyrant was able to find sympathy for the brashest of them all, maybe his attitude was beginning to change about all saiyans… Was something Broly tried to tell himself, but something in his gut told him that something was deeply wrong about this whole thing.
"Interesting," Broly said. "I need to get these cakes on board the ship for the mission. Are we on Ginyu's?"
"Yep, boarding our pods in their ship's drop compartments. I put mine on earlier today," Kakarot said as he began to walk ahead and motioned for Broly to follow.
Broly followed Kakarot, they were going to the same place after all.
"Last time we boarded with another group, they left the planet before we did. I mean, I like clean up duty as much as the next guy, but a whole six days early? It was like Cui wanted us to do all the work for him to get all the credit." Kakarot was jovial as he remembered the mission, smiling at Broly as he continued, "Gods, do you remember all of the good food that planet had? Would give Sithe and Eho themselves a run for their money."
Broly smiled back at Kakarot, remembering all of the food and interesting people he got to meet. His smile faded as he remembered the people who wouldn't leave. The ones who were determined to stay to the very end and the look on Kakarot's face as he fought them.
At that moment, Broly noticed something was off.
"Kakarot," Broly said, "Where's your scouter?"
Kakarot was surprised but for a brief moment before he reached under the top of his armor. "Woops! Forgot to put this thing back on, gotta remember to keep it on for the mission. Thanks for the catch!"
Kakarot was being given armor by Frieza and not wearing his scouter? That was … odd.
Broly rarely ever took his scouter off. He knew that they were tracked when they wore their scouters not only by each other but by other personnel under Frieza, including even Frieza himself. Granted it all depended on what frequency you were tuned into so he never worried that everyone was watching him, but the idea that he would just take it off in the middle of the day and just forget about it seemed unthinkable.
The two of them entered the hangar bay to see a fuming Vegeta loading his space pod onto the Ginyu ship. The trick to loading the saiyan pod onboard was aligning the pod's door to face the inside of the ship it was attached to.
Only a few ships in Frieza's fleet even had compatibility for saiyans as they didn't usually accompany others on missions, but the ships that did worked by having divots on the circular rim of the ship that the pods would fit into. The pod would snap into place in the magnetized divot, the divot would release its second half and cover the rear of the pod, and then they would board from the inside.
On one planet they had found a strange device where if you put a metal coin into it, a little toy would come out in a capsule pod that you would crack open. Broly could never shake that memory out of his head when he would board his pod and prepare to drop onto another planet, the pilot turning the crank to demagnetize the divot and retract the second half of it, sending them hurdling down to another planet.
A pod could fit in by being carried over and turned around so that it lined up perfectly on the first go, or if one was looking for some good luck and more of a headache, rolled over until it fit into the hole correctly.
Vegeta seemed to be going for the latter.
"Hey battle buddy!" Kakarot screamed to Vegeta from across the hangar, "glad to see you walking again! Excited for the next mission?!"
Vegeta gave both Kakarot and Broly a scowl filled with such contempt that it threatened to overwhelm him.
Vegeta motioned his hand for the two of them to come over.
Kakarot shrugged at Broly and the two of them walked over to their commander.
"What's up?" Kakarot asked.
"'What's up?'" Vegeta repeated, mocking Kakarot's voice. "The chain of command was broken on a gods damned training mission, that's what's up!"
Vegeta rolled his pod into the docking compartment, kicked it into place, and then lunged his attention back onto the pair. "I watched the recorded footage on my scouter, and that was one of the most embarrassing things I've seen in my life!"
"Sorry," Broly immediately said.
"It took all four of you to solve that issue?! If I was there it wouldn't have even happened to begin with!" Vegeta's face was going red as he screamed, but he wasn't anywhere near done, "I can't even begin to imagine why in the gods names you were all even bothering around with local foliage, but I guess that's too much to wonder about isn't it? I'm just supposed to wake up and hear you all almost killed yourselfs while I took a day off with a broken back!"
Broly had always hated shouting. It felt worse than any punch, always cut deeper than any blade. It reminded him of when his father used to go on missions with them.
Broly's lip quivered as he mumbled out, "Sorry," again.
Broly put his head down to stare at his feet in preparation for Vegeta to continue his tirade, but he felt a palm reassuringly put on his back.
"Hey," Kakarot said kindly to Vegeta, "It was my fault. I should've been quicker. If my scouter wasn't malfunctioning I may've even gotten there sooner. Could've sidetracked us away from everything. Sorry."
Vegeta's eyes narrowed at Kakarot. "When was the last time you had a scouter that wasn't a piece of trash? It feels like every other mission they're breaking or going missing." The prince looked Kakarot's new armor up and down. "If it's broken or missing this mission, I'll kill you before you even get back to your pod. Is that understood?"
Broly was already heading onto the ship. He couldn't bear being around this conversation much longer. Thankfully, Kakarot had directed Vegeta's anger towards himself. Broly hoped that if he was lucky, Vegeta would only talk about how useless he was during the trip and they'd forget about it by the time they were on the planet.
"Listen, I get that my colors are cooler than yours, but maybe I can put in a request for you to get a change too." Was the last thing Broly heard Kakarot and Vegeta say as he headed onto the ship and was immediately greeted by the Ginyu Force all sitting at a table.
To his shock, Recoome was reading. The others seemed to be playing some sort of four player board game with tiny metal pieces going around in a square, but all five of them jumped to their feet when they saw that Broly was carrying cakes.
"The legendary saiyan returns!" Burter shouted at the top of his lungs.
Recoome threw his hardcover book down on the floor and the rest of the Ginyu Force ran up to him.
"I can already smell it from here," Guldo said, not even measuring up to Broly's knee cap as he rubbed his gloved hands together. "Another Broly Classic for our mission to Throhbaq."
Everyone's excitement was such a shock that it took his mind away from the conflict happening outside the ship, and he politely nodded his head at the group. "Yes, I hope you like it. They need to be refrigerated," he said as he made his way to the ship's kitchen.
The ship wasn't the largest in the world, but with a lounge area, a kitchen, and sleeping quarters it was a nice change of pace from the interior of a saiyan pod. The saiyan was so used to sleeping on trips that he rarely even thought about what they would do during a voyage. Granted, Broly hoped it wouldn't be in somewhere that looked and smelled like the old university buildings he would raid during his missions, but at least it was different.
When he got into the kitchen, Broly saw that dishes were strewn about, bread bags left open, meat and cheeses sitting haphazardly at the table, and at the counter were Raditz and Nappa.
"Hey check it out," Nappa said as he held up a quadruple decker sandwich to Broly, "I'm a chef too now!"
With his perpetually flat voice, Broly said, "That's nice."
Nappa, knowing the younger saiyan's demeanor, smiled at how clever he was as he bit into his food.
While Broly put the cakes into the freezer, Raditz leaned against the wall, his arms folded over one another.
"Don't forget," Raditz said, "I left you some really good reference art in your pod. You should check it out first thing when you wake up."
His excitement rose as quickly as it faded, based on the way he worded it, there probably wasn't actually any reference art. He'd always used the phrase "first thing when you wake up" to mean to do it before he could look at it with his scouter, so it was probably something illicit.
"You doin' photography now?" Nappa said with a full mouth.
"What?" Raditz asked.
"The reference art. It's nice that you're so helpful for Broly's hobby. Yet when I offer to pass on the traditional saiyan folklore lessons…"
As Nappa trailed off, Raditz's face started burning red, and Broly wondered if maybe he'd eaten something he was allergic to.
"I'm not modeling for anyone and I'm not going to be spending my valuable time practicing oral history lessons! I have more important things to be doing with my time."
"Like reading?" Nappa's face squirmed at the idea, "a real saiyan can appreciate oral history, writing was just another one of those useless things the Tuffles passed onto us. Shoulda just threw it out, but everyone got so caught up with leaving notes for people and writing down their own words that they forgot to put their mind to the big picture. That's why our planet got blown up."
Broly didn't take much interest in this argument as it didn't really matter much to him one way or the other, but the absolutely incredulous look that Raditz's face was being overcome with did bring an amused smile to his face.
"Reading?" Raditz said, "Because of reading, our planet got hit with an asteroid?"
"Yeah," Nappa said, "all those fancy pansy new fangled scientists were too busy looking at their books instead of their telescopes. Would've never happened if they took their noses out of those pages."
"Um," Broly interjected before the conversation devolved into Raditz having an aneurysm, "I'm getting kind of tired. The cakes are for before the mission starts and when we come back. Please don't eat them until then."
At peace knowing he had given the instructions out, Broly would finally get to rest.
The mission details were pouring into his scouter as he walked to his pod that someone had already boarded onto the ship; Throhbaq was a hyper city planet, dense population with little wildlife, and approximately three days away from them. It would be a routine extermination mission. There would probably be more people there than Broly had ever seen before in one place.
His plan for the mission was the same that it was for every mission; he would get in his pod and sleep until they landed, he would track the lives of the people there, he would do what needed to be done when all other options inevitably ran out, and then they would leave.
He got to his pod and shut the door tightly, muting away the conversations he wasn't already paying attention to as he entered into his assisted sleep. If he was lucky, he'd never dream about the people he was about to see before he got there, and never dream of them after they left.
Author Note: Lowered the rating down to T since the later most violent chapters are still pretty within the margins of the manga and the most colorful language is found within my author's notes, which are a small pain to transfer from AO3 to FFN, so I've just skipped over them :p.
