His Majesty's Pet/Wake

A jagged clump of clouds hung above the royal palace, all slate and rust. A faint ray of sunlight shone through, but even so, it seemed like night. Vegeta remembered how cold it had been, how the wind had howled that day. He had run outside to see the great ship descend from the sky. Instead of joining the others, who were lined up in neat rows, the prince had gotten the impulse to climb up the side of the palace to get a better look. He was a good climber, and in the span of no more than a minute, he easily clambered up the nearest stone spire, agile as a space lynx, just in time to see Lord Frieza himself exit his ship and step foot on Planet Vegeta for the first time. The wind had blown fiercely that day, but everyone had been so still, so silent as Frieza approached the king. No one had said a thing. Vegeta remembered hearing the loud beating of his heart in his ears and a sick feeling in his stomach. ''Why did they all just stand there? We are Saiyans… the greatest warriors in the universe. We shouldn’t be afraid of anything. Why were they all afraid?''

Streaks of purple and red danced across Vegeta’s vision. His body was sore, his focus slipping. ''Why are they attacking me? We’re on the same side!'' He didn’t know if he could survive another attack. Fear was creeping up his throat, but Vegeta knew better than to let such a base emotion guide him. Everyone else may be dead, but I’m not joining them. So he didn’t. He killed the red-skinned soldier with an energy ball so massive, the purple, egg-headed one he knew was Appule was nearly killed by the explosion as well. But before Vegeta could finish him off, the second alien ran away. Stupid alien. Vegeta’s thoughts swam before his eyes.

He could barely follow what was going on.

Yet even at his lowest point, after just clearing a planet of life for Frieza to sell and learning that his species had been eradicated, Vegeta had mustered enough energy to take on the two powerful foes. ''I’m not weak. I won’t be weak. A Super Saiyan doesn’t feel fear.''

His father was bowing to Frieza at the base of the Saiyan throne, as the pointy-headed tyrant looked down on him with a smile. No one else was around. Vegeta wasn’t supposed to see that. He grit his teeth, clenched his fists so hard he felt his fingernails break his skin. ''Get up, father! Get up and kill him!'' Vegeta had wanted to shout that, but he had been unable to find the words.

Their scouters broke as his did, in a sudden flash. The red alien had screamed then, but Appule had merely cursed under his breath. He had outsmarted them, taken away their precious energy sensors. The next step was to isolate them, then to act decisively. He had only one chance.

Prince Vegeta, do you copy, sir?

I’m here.

''Sir, unfortunate news from Lord Frieza. Planet Vegeta was struck by a large comet today, a-and destroyed.''

And… you’re sure?

''Affirmative sir. Lord Frieza sends his sympathies and regrets. As of now, you’re the only known survivor.''

Oh… really?

Would you like to send a reply, sir?

No, no reply.

Very well sir. Over and out.

''I’m not the last one. At least I still have Nappa. But he had sent Nappa away from the planet, back to Frieza’s ship, so that he could have alone time. Stupid. That nearly got me killed. If it had been two on two, those aliens wouldn’t have laid a finger on me.''

''I don’t need alone time. I need to fight.''

The fight had come to him: these two surly-faced space aliens. They had been sent to kill him. Someone wants me dead. He had more than a few ideas who it could be. Zarbon, probably.

And there stood his father, his mother, his baby brother, the Saiyan army, Nappa, his training partners, all of the Saiyans he knew growing up. Dead and dying eyes were trained upon him. They watched him as he came upon them. He expected them to cheer him, to laud his remarkable feats for such a young boy. But as soon as he came running up to them, they all faded away, every one of them. The only one who remained was Frieza himself, who stepped out from the ashes and ruined visage of the Saiyan royal palace. He gave a mock bow and smiled that hideous demon smirk of his at Vegeta. Rage suddenly rushed through the boy’s veins. He raised a gloved hand and fired a Galick Gun at Frieza, who just laughed as the deadly energy bore down upon him. When the attack hit the tyrant, a bright light overtook Vegeta’s sight, and though Frieza’s cackling continued, and it even seemed to grow louder…

A spasm of pain shooting down from his shoulder to the base of his spine brought the Saiyan Prince back to the conscious world. It took him a few breaths before he remembered he was in the near-darkness of his pod, his entire body aching. His armor was cracked and heavy on his tired shoulders, his fists bruised, his muscles throbbing. The fight against Appule and red-skinned alien had taken a toll on him. They had been clothed in the same armor as him–the ubiquitous mark of the Planet Trade Organization–and still they had attacked him. The thought of their betrayal made the boy clench his fists again and wish he had been able to kill both of them.

He felt his pod dock with Lord Frieza’s ship, causing him to jerk forward suddenly when it fell into its port. The aching in his body hurt even more, but Vegeta bit his lip and cleared his thoughts. ''A Super Saiyan doesn’t cry. The Prince of All Saiyans doesn’t, either.'' They were dead and gone; Vegeta remained. That was all that mattered.

He went to stand up, and another jolt of pain shot through his body like a burst of poisoned electricity. The young boy let out a gasp and fell back in his seat. He was seeing stars in his waking vision, and he could not blink them away. I have to get up… I have to show them I’m strong.

He tried to, but another, more pressing jolt of pain rocked his body. This time, his eyes watered, his lip began to tremble, and he saw the darkness coming.

“Captain! What is the first rule of war?!”

“Uh… there are no r–”

“No spitting!” Kuriza shrieked, spitting all over Captain Ginyu’s face and leaping back wild as rigawe’i.

“L-lord Kuriza… please!” Ginyu cried, falling to a knee. Native Bas in this marketplace were drawing a crowd around them, curious as to what was going on.

“Yes, Ginyu?”

“Mercy! Please!”

“Granted.” The boy landed softly on the ground. “But you’re going to have to teach me the dance of grandaddy alcoholics later, Ginyu.”

“Yeah, whatever, kid.”

“Will you two be quiet, I’m trying to find him!”

Dodoria was sweating like a space pig, and he looked altogether pink, bloated enough to be a lampshade someday. Kuriza scarcely liked Dodoria. His father had ordered him to come along regardless. What does he think I’ll learn from this? Kuriza hardly knew. There were Bas everywhere. The air reeked of market food, and his patience was fast waning. His belly rumbling, the prince once again assumed a perch upon Ginyu’s shoulder.

“I’ll wait one more minute, Dodoria. Then I’m going to try those weird space kabob things.”

“Aww, those sure look good!” Ginyu whined, his mouth watering melodramatically.

Dodoria, for all his chins, had a small measure of dignity. He ignored the both of them for another two minutes, until his hand suddenly shot into the crowd and pulled out a young, dumpy-looking Bas boy. The boy proceeded to scream loudly. Mayhaps he had never seen a space alien before, but Kuriza hardly felt any sympathy for someone as ugly as that.

“This is Guldo,” Dodoria grunted. “He has an abnormally high power level for his species.”

“Oh yeah, what is it?” asked the prince, leaning in pompously.

“9000.” Dodoria scratched his ear and shrugged.

“That’s it?” ''What a noob. Burter was that strong when he was two years old!''

“Kuriza, don’t be rude. Not everyone is as–”

“Yes, yes, Ginyu, that’s quite enough. Hello Guldy,” Kuriza said with a crisp bow. “Welcome. Wanna go eat some kabobs?”

“Uh…” Guldy said, looking around wildly. “Who are you people?! Waaah!!”

“You’re powerful.” Kuriza pointed calmly at him, his tone falling. “You’re going to go work for my daddy, or I’m going to kill you. How’s that sound?”

Guldy screamed.

“Guldy don’t scream!”

“My name is Guldo, not Guldy!” the fat little Bas squealed.

“Okay.” Kuriza bowed again, then jumped off Ginyu’s shoulder. “Sora! I want some space kabobs… are you coming or not?”

The way he cocked his head was like how those space predators did it when he watched them on the space television late at night. He hoped Guldo got the message, but all the lumpy boy did at that moment was shit his pants, so unfortunately space kabobs were thenceforth out of the question. It was horrible, just like Guldy. Thus concluded the worst day of Prince Kuriza’s life.

He awoke in a rejuvenation tank, a wrinkly-beaked, bird-faced alien hunched over a computer monitor in front of him. He was covered in all sorts of wires and equipment meant to heal him as quickly as possible… but he didn’t have time for that. Vegeta began to squirm, pulling the IV tubes out of his veins, the mask off his face. He saw the alien glance up at him with a look of surprise.

“V-vegeta… you aren’t healed yet!” it rasped. “You need at least four more hours in there!”

The prince shook his head and then held up his glove. The alien understood what that meant and unlocked the tank at once. Spilling out green liquid all over the floor, its door swung open; in his chipped armor, Prince Vegeta stepped out, falling to a knee and coughing onto the metal floor. The pain returned to him, and in an eyeblink he was on his hands and knees on the floor, barely able to keep himself from falling over. ''I have to get up. I don’t have time to feel pain.''

“You know, you shouldn’t do that,” the alien complained. “Someone’s gonna have to clean that up!”

“H-has… has… Lord Frieza… called for me?” Vegeta asked, his voice hoarse.

The alien grumbled, but helped Vegeta stand back up. “He’s called for you, Vegeta. But you need to replace your armor before you see him. And you need a new scouter.”

“Hurry up then,” the boy said impatiently.

The doctor nodded, bowed, and hurried out of the room. Vegeta braced himself against a nearby table so that he wouldn’t fall over. He closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and felt the beat of his heart lessen. He felt the pain receding. He knew he wouldn’t feel like normal again until he went back into the rejuvenation tank, but that could wait until after he met with Lord Frieza.

The doctor returned with a fresh jumpsuit, new armor, and a nice red scouter for the young prince. Vegeta quickly put on the new clothes and then left the room. He entered the nearest corridor of Frieza’s ship, which circled the entire outer section of the ship. As a consequence of having a circular hallway, it meant that people could come appear out of nowhere around a corner at any moment. Such was the case with Vegeta. As he limped down the metal hallway, suddenly a black-and-green-skinned alien came around the corner and ran right into the boy. Vegeta was flung back onto the ground and had to bite down on his lower lip to prevent himself from screaming out.

Vegeta tried to stand back up when he heard the other alien hissing at him. The boy looked over and saw that their collision had also caused him to fall over–and his pet Saibaman, which had evidently been perched upon his shoulder, had fallen to the ground as well. The alien stood up, grabbed his Saibaman like it was pillow, hugging it tightly to his chest, and stuck his tongue out at Vegeta. The little beast’s face was greenish-white, veins of deep black–almost a reddish color, flaring up its scalp towards the whiteness forming around the crown of its skull.

“Watch where you’re going, Vegeta!” the alien hissed.

“Why don’t you, Nailo?”

Nailo muttered something indistinct, baring his teeth at Vegeta. He had a bald, reptilian head with dark green and black scales lining his body. His face looked like it was chiseled out of rock, it was so tight and smooth. Nailo flexed his tail and hugged his Saibaman tighter. “Careful, Vegeta. You don’t wanna die today, do ya? Careful now, or I’ll send you to where all the other filthy monkeys went!”

Vegeta stared back at him defiantly, and said nothing. Nailo, unperturbed, clenched his fists, pointed them at Vegeta, hissed again, and then walked off, tensely staring at the prince until he was out of sight. No one mocks me, Vegeta thought. But he had not the strength to say so aloud.

As he continued walking down the hall, Vegeta thought about the Saibaman Nailo had been carrying. His thoughts drifted to Planet Vegeta, and how he had trained with Saibamen on his homeworld nearly everyday for the past several months as he had been working for Frieza. He and his best friend had trained with Saibamen, using them as tools to become stronger and stronger. To become Super Saiyans, he thought bitterly.

Right now, Vegeta was stronger than his father had ever been. He was the strongest Saiyan in existence. That doesn’t mean as much as it used to, a voice in his head said. Vegeta felt a hotness on the bridge of his nose. At the same time, he felt an itch behind his eyes that he could not scratch.

Coming upon Frieza’s throne room, Vegeta entered without knocking. Inside, the little tyrant stood facing away from Vegeta, one arm behind his back in an elegant display, the other holding a glass of ice wine. Frieza did not move as Vegeta entered. The boy was glad at least that Zarbon and Dodoria weren’t there.

The Saiyan prince bowed. “The planet has been conquered Lord Frieza,” he spoke. “It took me only one day.”

Frieza was staring out his window into the cold of space. He did not so much as flinch as Vegeta spoke. After a few more moments, Vegeta cocked his head in surprise and said, “S-sir… I said I…”

“I heard you, Vegeta,” Frieza replied in a cold whisper that froze Vegeta to the bone. The Saiyan prince stepped back.

“I-I’m sorry my lord…” the boy said awkwardly. “I’ll g–”

“You will stay.” Frieza took a sip of his wine, then set the glass down. He turned around to face Vegeta, his tail twisting about as if it had a mind of its own. “I had a soldier send you a message about your homeworld,” the tyrant said carefully.

“I know.”

Frieza shook his head and lowered his gaze. “I am dreadfully sorry, Vegeta. I know it must be hard knowing that your whole species is gone.”

“I don’t care.”

Frieza laughed. “Ohoho! Don’t care? Well, you are a tough guy, Vegeta! I am impressed!” Frieza’s eyes lit up with a knowing malice.

“Not everyone’s dead. Nappa came with me.”

“Is that the other boy you used to train with?” Frieza asked lazily. He stepped forward, up to his parked hovercar, and reached inside it for something.

“No.”

“Where is that one?”

“We left him on Planet Vegeta before leaving for this mission. He was going to join us, b-but I don’t think…” Vegeta’s voice broke and he turned away from the tyrant.

“Oh, Vegeta, don’t worry,” Frieza said, his voice rising warmly. “I’ll find you a new partner. Everything will be alright.” He reached Vegeta, patting the small prince on the shoulder. “You’re still alive. And there is much left to do. Come, follow me. I have another mission for you.”

The two exited the room. Frieza held up a little piece of pink-and-white candy wrapped in a thin layer of film. “Kuriza loves these. Always wants me to buy bags and bags of them. Silly boy,” he said. “Here, have one, Vegeta.”

Vegeta took the candy and popped it in his mouth.

“Sweet?”

Vegeta nodded. But in reality, the sugar didn’t help at all. His head was hot and he felt numb. He wasn’t in the mood for candy right now.

“Good.”

They came to the comm station where Gichamu, Frieza’s best engineer, stood over a computer console. He was wrapped in a dark cloak, only his dark eyes and blue, wrinkly fingers visible.

“Vegeta needs a new mission. Give him the one I was saving. The desert world.”

Gichamu bowed. “As you wish, Lord Frieza.” He pressed a slew of buttons with his long, clawed fingers and then pressed a button on Vegeta’s scouter. At once, coordinates popped up on the Prince’s portable device. “These are already programmed into your space pod,” he told Vegeta. “Since you have returned, your space pod has been refueled, so you are ready to go. Is there anything else you need, Vegeta?”

The boy shook his head.

“Very well,” he bowed. “I believe everything is in order then.”

Frieza nodded curtly, and the two were off again. Vegeta had to limp with all of his strength just to keep up with the tyrant, though he didn’t complain and did not let Frieza see that he was wounded. Once they were out of earshot of the engineer, Frieza spoke softly, “You have three days for this planet. This is the most dangerous planet I have given you, Vegeta. Do be careful. I wouldn’t want to lose the last Saiyan I have.”

“I’ll clear the planet in two days,” Vegeta boasted.

“Oho! You’re quite the go-getter, Vegeta. Always trying to please me,” Frieza smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Very good. If you can do it in two days, there will be a nice reward for you.”

Just before the two reached the space pod hangar, they stumbled upon two beings huddled in a corner of the hallway, speaking quickly in low voices. And he knew both of them. He felt something twist in his stomach. Was it rage? Horror? Fear? He did not know.

There stood Zarbon, Frieza’s highest-ranked captain (some would even call him a prince), with a rather bloody Appule, who was clutching a broken arm. Vegeta simply glared at them.

Zarbon spoke in a furious whisper, “How could you let him get away?! I should kill you for–”

“Kill him for what, Zarbon?” Frieza asked, coolly, “For whatever reason, surely not on my ship?”

“Oh, lord Frieza! I… I…”

“Enough, Zarbon. Get back to work,” said Frieza with little care. He looked over at Vegeta once again before walking out and said, “Remember Vegeta, two days.”

Vegeta saw it all. And the rage in his chest that thence sprung up was the greatest he had ever felt in his life. Maybe it was aided because of his fragile emotional state, but he didn’t know. The only thing he did know was that Zarbon would pay for trying to kill him. His pride swelled up in his throat. He wouldn’t let anyone kill him.

Vegeta walked up to Zarbon, even as the green alien towered over him, and glared down at him. “You won’t get away with what you did. You know I’m going to kill you,” he spoke.

“What was that, monkey?” replied Zarbon haughtily.

Vegeta lowered his voice, but spoke clear enough for Zarbon to hear him. He stared down the taller alien without fear. “I’m going to kill you someday.”

Then, gathering his cape around him, Vegeta turned, and left the room. He had missions to complete, after all. They would keep him busy. They would keep him from thinking about his race, from crying about his misfortune. They would keep him from being weak. He didn’t have time to think about Zarbon… not until his next combat assignment was complete. Then he would think up a way to kill that smug alien.

He entered the hangar room, found his pod, and opened its hatch, preparing to step inside. ''This’ll be good. Another mission will make me stronger and keep me focused on what I should be focused.'' As he went to climb inside his pod, Vegeta felt someone grab his right shoulder and pull him out.

It all happened in a blur. He was pounded against the nearest metal wall, felt fists connecting with his rib cage, felt someone pulling his hair and his tail and cursing him. The boy tasted blood in his mouth, felt ripples of pain coursing through his body like fire through his veins. He coughed, cried out, tried to defend himself. But he was too weak. He was in no state to fight someone. Someone punched him in the jaw, and Vegeta nearly blacked out right there. The only reason he didn’t was that he caught a glimpse of who it was who was attacking him.

Green skin and green hair, and the ugliest face in the universe greeted him before the next punch. Zarbon was smirking. Vegeta roared and tried to shoot an energy blast at the captain, but Zarbon deftly caught the boy’s arm, jerked it upward in a sickening crunch, and threw Vegeta into his pod before kicking the door shut.

Zarbon’s smile evaporated. “Don’t ever threaten me again, monkey. Lord Frieza may have taken a liking to you, but if you continue with this disobedience, I will make you disappear. Remember this, Saiyan… on this ship, I am your superior. You are no prince here! You are not royalty–not by a longshot. Keep your mouth shut and do what Lord Frieza asks of you, and maybe I won’t kill you. But if I hear another word of defiance…”

Zarbon mimed what he would do to the boy and left. Vegeta spit up a rather large quantity of blood. He was breathing heavily; he was barely conscious. But before he could open the door and crawl out back to the medical bay, he felt his pod start to rumble. A second later, it shot out of Frieza’s spaceship and into the depths of space.

''Two days. Two days. Two days. Two days.'' The thought echoed through Vegeta’s mind over and over again until the dread of his thoughts made him pass out again.