In Saiyan Kakarott In Saiyan! - Chapter 1

The Saiyan Race

You could call them the Saiyan race; proud warriors and fierce fighters, with trademark long black hair (even if someone did choose to go bald) and long brown monkey tails… but to call them a race would be rather pointless now. The Saiyan race died a long time ago, along with the destruction of the planet Vegeta-sei.

The Saiyan race now, was no more than the survivors of that horrible moment in history… the Saiyan race now was a group of three male warriors. That meant a mere 2 subjects who served (with loyalty and dedication, mind you) the prince of all Saiyans, Vegeta Sama.

A Saiyan who epitomised all Saiyan strength and courage… and all the bad temperaments and arrogance, yet a Saiyan who- despite the destruction of his legacy- would carry the pride of his race on his broad shoulders, and growl threateningly in the direction of any lizard-lovers who would dare belittle it.

Shorter than most, this only made Vegeta Sama’s opponents foolishly underestimate his power- which was well above those of his two subordinates and fellow space pirates, his planet demolishing ‘comrades’, all of whom made up Frieza’s personal squad of destruction.

Around 10 years ago, when he was still a cub of around 12 years old, Frieza had come with his armies and pummelled Vegeta-sei. All the armies in the universe tried their hand at conquering the ‘monkey-race’, as their lizard tailed master had been unaffectionate to name them, but all failed.

Soon, world’s armies came all at once, out numbering the Saiyans into a reluctant submission. This was when Prince Vegeta had been sent to the new lord of Saiyans as a token of good will, along with his two body guards, Nappa and Radditz.

Nappa and Radditz were like total opposites in everything but their love... well, not love, really…there was no ‘love’ for a Saiyan… only the need for companionship for practical reasons- to strengthen a pack, to make children, for primitive pleasures or friendship- they found many ways to get around calling it ‘love’.

All but their passion for battle, they were different.

Radditz was the younger voice, the long waist length sporadic black hair, the handsome, tactical dreamer of Saiyan glory and tradition, the hope of promise in their race, and the scribe and teller of their history. He knew exactly how the Saiyan race had lived… and how the Saiyans died (but he was ordered by his prince to remain silent about such a probable theory).

Nappa was the oldest Saiyan in the group way pass his middle ages (though none but the other Saiyans and Frieza’s personal entourage would dare mention this). He was a gruff, unattractive Saiyan in all but his fondly regarded violently moody exterior, the ‘flip-you-over-his-shoulder-and-kick-you-in-the-gut-for-taking-the-last-appetiser’ kind of male, the rather violent fellow with absolutely no thoughts on anything but fighting. 

These two body guards had come with Prince Vegeta Sama in his teens to Frieza’s personal space station situated in the crevice of the rocky, barren little planet that was roughly as small as a third rate asteroid that had lain quietly dormant for centuries.

The Saiyans were responsible for the personal preparation of planets that their ‘lord’ Frieza- though they called him by this title only when in front of the lizard himself and when his precious protective Ginyu Squad were around- wished to own. The Ginyu squad were to Frieza what Nappa and Radditz were to their Prince Vegeta.

They would go to the said planet, and unless the occupants had any fighting promise and were willing to obey, would destroy everyone and everything considered more dangerous or disagreeable than a potted plant. All cities were decimated, all underground habitations were blasted out or caved in, every living thing with the ability to even utter a word of defiance to the ice-lord’s rule, were slaughtered.

Yes, from the proudest race in the universe, honourable in their battles, to the death bringers of a lord they despised, but with enough power to kill them all a thousand times over with their current strength. The Saiyan race was now no more than three murderous servants of a lizard they hated passionately. And their ‘lord’ knew he was despised, and he knew they were bitter and furious because they could do nothing about it, and it amused him no end.

He would still send his little monkeys out on errands of mindless destruction- the ‘negotiating’ and salvaging was done by the Ginyu, Frieza’s faithful little lap dogs.

It had been this way for nearly 10 years, and now Prince Vegeta was a young man- one shaped and made not by the lords of Saiyans or his father the king, but by a lifetime of war and conquest, of serving in shame and retaining pride in the face of that white and pink faced lizard- he was full of hate and anger.

Especially at the moment.

“Vegeta, when I asked you whether there would be have any problems in the taking of this backwater little planet, you told me there would be none. I think your exact words were…”

'The three of us are all you need to take care of that little piece of rock- we are, after all, Saiyans.’ Vegeta remembered retorting that, for good reason. Except Frieza’s two stooges and the Ginyu squad, his Saiyans were the most powerful force at Frieza’s side.

Vegeta scowled with his arms crossed, staring defiantly at his ‘lord’. What exactly ‘had’ been done wrong? He was about to find out.

“Did you not also say when you came here, that as the prince of Saiyans, you would take responsibility for all the Saiyans under you?” he slurred, with a voice that coiled round even the toughest warrior like a snake, with words of venom and lucid, malicious purring that told Vegeta something wasn’t right- for him.

His scowl deepened- which one of his subordinates had screwed up this time- or stepped out of line in any tiny fraction of a way that would allow Frieza to take his anger out on his favourite monkey- his ‘prince’.

His eyes shot to the side to Nappa- who made a small shrug of obliviousness, generally confused.

He huffed in irritation, just loud enough for the lizard before him to hear, but not loud enough that he could claim disrespect in front of his other servants- for only Frieza had the hearing of a Saiyan.

Then there was only Radditz left, surely, who he glared at to his right, only to be met with the same clueless denial. He whipped back round to Frieza, arms folded and head held high, furiously indignant.

“What are you talking about, Frieza?” he snapped, refusing to call him his lord. “What, exactly, am I supposed to be taking responsibility for? My men have done nothing,” he stated, his eyes meeting the poison of his ‘master’.

But Frieza was not enraged by the disrespect, instead, he slid his long thick white tail around the hovering circular chair he sat in regally, so it surrounded him and then draped over the edge closest to the Saiyans. This was all very confusing. Why was Frieza ignoring all of Vegeta’s obvious insolence? By now, he would have received a beating as standard.

“But my dear Vegeta,” Frieza smiled icily, glowering at him like a cat on a wall toying with the dog below by dangling his tail just out of reach, “who said I was talking about either of the men behind you? It is someone else you will be taking responsibility for.”

Vegeta’s arms fell in surprise; his frown faded and was replaced with a pair of narrowing, dubious eyes.

“What are you talking about?” he growled suddenly, not even looking back to the shocked Radditz or the baffled Nappa. It was just one insult after another with the lizard- but this was one insult he would not take. “Apart from myself, Nappa and Radditz, the entire Saiyan race was destroyed!” he could not help himself- the tone of his voice had risen, and before he knew it, he was shouting at the ice-lord.

But Frieza was smug. “That’s what you led me to believe,” he smirked, taking his turn to fold his arms as he sat quite comfortably, leaving the Saiyan prince at a furious loss for words, “it was very clever of you, mind,” he added with a small snigger.

“What in the hell are you talking about?!” Vegeta exclaimed. “It wasn’t enough that you took the Saiyan kingdom from me, now you mock me with your games?!” he roared, when a tail snapped out at him and wrapped itself around his neck tightly.

“Prince!” the unmistakable cries of Radditz and Nappa, momentarily stepping forward to engage in combat to protect their leader, when the tail tightened round Vegeta’s neck and the prince stopped them with a single hand.

There was no point in his only two body guards getting hurt too.

“Wise decision, monkey,” Frieza snarled, still with that superior glance of a lifted mouth corner into some what of a smile.

Vegeta’s dark eyes flickered as Frieza stared down at him from his floating throne, and his neck was released slowly.

“Lord Frieza,” came a strong mauling voice, low and nasal, deep and well spoken- a deceptively hearty voice- perhaps from one confident in his own power, “I have the footage here,” which was when there was a flash of purple that offended Vegeta’s eyes, and Captain Ginyu stepped out with a small chip.

After the feeling of contempt that the Ginyu clown had appeared was gone, after the amusement it caused him to see that the proud captain was acting as a delivery boy, Vegeta’s eyes fixed on the tiny computer chip in the man’s hard violet hand. Footage?

Frieza then took it in his grubby hands with a gleam in his eye. “Perfect,” he looked down on Ginyu with the sort of debase praise a master would give his pet hound for retrieving something; and then Vegeta stiffened as he was turned to again, “now, is there anything you’d like to tell me before I play this, monkey?” Frieza asked- his tone laced thick with death.

“No.” Vegeta replied- honestly, mind you, but with a repugnant defiance, taking on once more the proud Saiyan stance.

“It’s all on there, sire,” Ginyu added quickly, quite pleased with Vegeta’s answer. Whatever incriminating evidence was on the chip, he wanted it to be played, so that his work could be praised by the lizard for giving him the opportunity to punish the Saiyan monkey prince.

Vegeta noted with disgust that, as the chip was given to a stumbling servant near by, Ginyu looked ready to burst with pride, nearly rubbing up against his master’s throne and rumbling a low purr of accomplishment in such menial task. But when Captain Ginyu caught the Saiyan’s glance, he did not turn red and draw back in embarrassment, he only sniggered. Whatever was on that chip, it was bad.

His eyes went sideways to the usually care free Nappa, and then to the usually most optimistic Radditz, to see that both were just as wary and glum as he was.

“Very well then, monkey, just watch this with me. This footage will no doubt explain everything,” he ordered, in a tone that told the servant he was trying his lord’s patience.

Vegeta was worried for a moment that the ice-lord had been spying on the Saiyan quarters, and had heard one of their many conversations that would be considered treason. Then again, the chip was apparently not about Nappa, Radditz or himself.

And then the screen that would be mistaken for a window (if Lord Frieza cared to look out at the view of planets he demolished) cleared as the chip was placed into the terminal nearby. This was followed by the words ‘processing…’ and then static before an image came up.

“That’s…” Radditz was quiet… his tone still confused, his breath taken.