Vegeta Muyo. (could be 18+)

Partially relieved that she is in no immediate danger from any natural disasters except for the ones she lives with she begins to prepare and get ready for the new day. Eventually feeling she has dressed herself appropriately for the day donning a lighter over-elaborate gown she exits the house to view the prince training with his prodigy. Hissing and trembling in a corner a nervous Ryo-ohki runs frantically through the house not understanding what’s going on until Sasami picks her up and eases her fears.

“Boo!” Ayeka recoils from the sudden shock and turns to see Ryoko phased upside-down through the ceiling giggling to herself at her little prank. The whole ground trembles violently and thunder sounds in the sky as a mountain crumbles to dust. Crashing down on the horizon with one last mighty roar. Shockwaves that carried on from these regular training bouts have taken their eventual toll on this mountain as it surrenders its majesty and grandeur to gravity.

At that point Trunks lands on the ground panting and sweating heavily, turning wearily to walk back into the house for a well earned rest. Without so much as a drop of perspiration on him Vegeta gradually descends back to terra firma surveying the two woman audience, waiting for them to notice. The quick flicker in their eyes, the slight stare is all it takes. They have noticed his change. No longer will he look like a ruffian when hosting guests; he decided to take pride in his appearance and shave his beard. Walking back clean shaven into his house past the two women without so much as a second glance he sees that all his guests are awake and downstairs.

“ Tidy yourselves up and look presentable, in a few moments we’ll be going to Kame Island to meet with ‘friends’.” Vegeta continues past the women and up the stairs into his spartan room as they begin to busy themselves at such short notice. Opening up his wardrobe he scans through the rudimentary collection of clothing he has: flicking through all his training gear, jumpsuits, armour, casual wear and one other item of clothing. He takes out the hanger and special item of clothing, reminiscing over the memories. The nostalgia brings a smile to his face and heart as he begins to put on the first gift from his wife: his pink ‘Badman’ shirt. With his shirt on but unbuttoned he hears a faint knock on his door, buttoning up his shirt whilst heading towards the door. He opens the door to see a bashful Ryoko standing outside with her hands clasped behind her back.

“Glad to see that you finally learnt to knock, what is it now?” Vegeta asks noticing that she has not changed her attire yet.

“Umm, Ryo-ohki had no storage compartments on board so … I have no spare clothes to change into. Can I. . can I borrow some?” Ryoko timidly asks in her well mannered pleading voice. Unmoved by the emotion portrayed in her voice but reluctant to let her go out in clothes she has worn for at least two days straight he concedes and points her to a small chest in the far corner of the room containing a few of his late wife’s clothes.

Leaving the room to preserve her modesty, Vegeta heads back downstairs to be amazed that all the other women are all ready, even his son. Trunks is sporting a denim jacket, black tank top and jeans looking every bit like his alternate self. A long purple and lovingly crafted gown, with a plunging V neck, elaborate golden collar and shoulder pads and encrusted with two over sized emeralds is being worn by Washu. Little Sasami‘s clothing is also of great extravagance. With many hues of blue and purple and pink, large ornate shoulder pads and a flowing semi cape of white adorning her she looks every bit like a princess of Jurai. Ayeka’s clothing is similar to Sasami’s in all but colouration and the large static hood held in place above her head.

“Very good, you lot do scrub up well then. I haven’t seen clothes that fancy since the carnival last came round.” Vegeta approaches the group and his son. A flash of steel. A crack through the air, a sword is embedded at the feet of Trunks. Overjoyed by the return of his most prized possession he removes it from the floor holding it aloft like an Arthurian warrior and sprints off to retrieve his sheathe so he can take it with him to show off to his friend Goten. Ryoko has to think fast as an excited Trunks rushes past and nearly bowls her over. Quickly recovering she continues on her way downstairs.

The waiting group turn to her arrival, Vegeta looks on at her with mixed feelings coming from the sight of this woman wearing his deceased loved one’s clothes. A simple red tank top and orange sleeveless jacket combined with plain white trousers, the same outfit Vegeta fondly remembers from Trunks’ infancy. Feeling their eyes upon her Ryoko feels unusually self aware, especially from Vegeta as his eyes move over her body and then stop and stare at her waist. Uncomfortable under his gaze she messes with the ponytail she put her hair in. She blushes at his stare, not realising his thoughts are not those of admiration.

“Your tail’s gone Ryoko.” Vegeta states matter-of-factly. Ryoko is taken aback and sweatdrops, disappointed in her realisation of why Vegeta was looking at her in that fashion.

“I don’t have a tail, what do you take me for? That thing is a fashion accessory, it moves because I will it to.” Ryoko states tersely back before heading outside as the rest follow. Bringing up the rear of the procession Vegeta absently rubs the scar tissue at the base of his back where his own tail once resided thinking that his son’s tail still has the potential to regenerate back and he won’t let it be cut off again.

Ryoko stops at the edge of the crystal waters waiting for Vegeta or Trunks to lead on as they are the only ones who know the location of the destination. Vegeta steps forward and looks up at the sky surveying the clouds for any hints of bad weather.

“I don’t mean to pry but is this Kame Island far away? It’s just I see no means of transportation to get us there.” Ayeka politely inquires. Ryo-ohki meows but Ryoko picks her up hushing her. Vegeta looks at the women and then at his son.

“Trunks, think you can carry Sasami while I take these two?” Vegeta smiles as he asks this. A look of trepidation spreads across Ayeka as Washu enthusiastically goes up to Vegeta.

“You can’t be serious! I will not tolerate being manhandled in that manner!” Ayeka argues back. Vegeta seems unfazed by her display and instead ignores her facing Ryoko.

“Think you can keep up with us?” Ryoko nods and starts to hover off the ground. Trunks moves his sword’s sheathe off his shoulder and around his belt and then bends, touching his knees to the floor allowing Sasami to mount his back before he stands and carefully lifts off carrying her piggyback. Vegeta steps towards Ayeka with Washu already clutched under one of his arms, her legs kicking in the air as she fails to contain her excitement. Ayeka resolutely shakes her head and continues arguing against Vegeta but sees his lack of empathy or care for her opinion on the matter. One quick motion later she is thrown over his shoulder and he blasts off into the air.

Ryoko and Trunks follow the distant screams of Ayeka as they tear through the sky. Sasami and Washu seem enraptured by the experience as their speed increases and the wind rushes through their hair. The kicks and blows raining on Vegeta from the desperately struggling Ayeka do little to the Saiyan but annoy him, she really should know that attacking the person keeping you airborne is a not too well planned out idea.

“If you carry on with that behaviour my hands might just slip.” Vegeta menacingly shouts as his voice is torn from him by the rushing winds. Not sure that she heard him until he feels her freeze. Her body going rigid and cold as she stares at the ground rushing past miles beneath her. Washu ignores the other passenger on Air Vegeta and whoops in exhilaration pressing closer to Vegeta. Realising all too late the mistake of having Washu so close to his person, Vegeta accelerates rapidly so the journey will end quicker. An explosion in the air brings the women’s hands up to their ears as they smash through the sound barrier whilst Vegeta pushes ever onwards.

Trunks and Ryoko continue to increase their speed to keep up with Vegeta but soon Ryoko starts to flag and fall behind. Ayeka continues her attempt for freedom as Washu huddles closer to Vegeta pushing him further and further into a very dangerous mood. He dives. Rocketing towards the ground in a spiralling descent he grits his teeth. Washu starts to behave like Ayeka as both women frantically wail at the inevitable fate of the ground. Screeching towards the earth with a woman in each arm, both on the point of tears, Vegeta somersaults planting both feet on the ground. Trees topple, the ground splits and cracks open as it absorbs the force of the landing. Still bending his knees from landing he rebounds and instantly is back in the sky regrouping with his son who has slowed down in consideration of Ryoko. Now in peace, Vegeta continues the rest of the journey with two unconscious women in his arms.

Touching down on the white sands of Kame Island the group arrives. Vegeta lands first followed shortly by Ayeka and Washu disembarking from him quickly, grateful for firm ground beneath their feet once again. Trunks and Sasami arrive soon after and then Ryoko brings up the rear obviously fatigued from the many leagues they have flown beyond Mach speed.

The small island has a few tall palm trees and patches of greenery, but apart from that the only thing of difference between this and all the many other islands they passed over on the way is the small pink house at the centre of it. Vegeta paces towards the house where many voices are emanating from inside, leading his son and the females. Trying to think of a way to explain his bizarre situation to the people inside Kame house he pauses at the door and turns to look at the party he brought. All seem eager to meet actual natives to the planet they are on, all but one. Ayeka.

She doesn’t appear to have moved from where she first jumped down off him. Her gaze is sweeping up and down the horizon at the calm azure waters with a wistful look in her eyes. A loud shout from inside the house brings her back round and she joins back up waiting to enter the house. Gripping the door knob that has been badly malformed by all the overpowered people who have used it, Vegeta turns it and swings the door open.

“HEY! Vegeta’s here! How are you doing?” Goku announces glad to see his brother in arms. As Vegeta enters the house with his son, his bulk no longer blocks the doorway and reveals his entourage. The ten individuals already in the house seem confused by this new group of people and even more confused that the antisocial Saiyan they haven’t heard from in a over year has been keeping company with women. Feeling extremely self aware and all their eyes upon him he quickly introduces his guests as they enter.

“The little one is Sasami, this is her sister Princess Ayeka of Jurai, that one is called … Little Washu and she is Ryoko.” Vegeta extremely briefly states. The women too now feel the curious eyes of the other Z warriors and are particularly disturbed by one set of eyes in particular. The owner of the household steps forward, wearing his best suit, red tie and fedora. Scratching his bushy beard and clacking his staff on the floor. Approaching the women with a stare penetrating through his dark sunglasses, he stops before them.

“So you girls also from space hey. Then you should know that it is an honoured custom here on Earth to … GIVE A GREAT BIG SMOOCHY KISS to the house owner!” Master Roshi blurts out, his lecherous ways exponentially growing with age. He was once a martial arts champion though now an old man who has gone bald and decided to live as a hermit. His big cheesy grin still lighting his face as the women have no idea what to do.

Ryoko is all too happy to oblige and so kisses the bald dome of Roshi’s head before winking at him and going to stand by Vegeta’s side. The effect is instantaneous, Roshi’s pure white beard is now crimson and sodden from his volcanic nosebleed. The old turtle hermit hurries off to clean himself up as one of the women that was already in the house walks up to Ryoko and Vegeta. She is Chi-Chi the wife of Goku and mother of Goten and Gohan. With her raven black hair tied in a bun and wearing a purple dress with pink sleeves.

“Great, you didn’t have to do that you know. That dirty old man tries tricks like that all the time and now he’ll be even bolder in his despicable behaviour.” The athletic housewife states with her family at her back. Vegeta and Goku walk off into a corner to discuss each others training and what they’ve been up to since their last bout. Goten, a more or less identical miniature version of his father, and Marron the small young blonde daughter of 18 approach the two other youths and after Trunks quickly introduces Sasami and Ryo-ohki to them, they run off outside to play on the sandy beach. Still in discussion with his rival Vegeta sees Goku now looking over his shoulder, his interest on someone behind him. Revolving around to see Ryoko glowering at who she has figured out to be Kakarot, the reason she came to this planet.

“Hey how are you doing, it’s Ryoko right? Nice to meet you.” Goku acts as his friendly, charming self, smiling and offering his hand for a handshake to Ryoko. She looks down at his rough, battle-hardened hand, back at his cheery face then stalks back off. Goku looks to Vegeta for an explanation.

“Hmmm … yes, Ryoko. Well, she was a space pirate who worked for Frieza and the Cold family. She came to this planet to seek out the one who caused her current state of unemployment. Too bad for her that your fate has already been sealed to me since long before Frieza was slain.” Vegeta says whilst observing Ryoko’s movements as she heads towards the 6’9 tall green Namekian wearing a pure white cloak and turban named Piccolo.

“ I thought we’d heard the last from Frieza but you and her do have a lot in common, I’m happy you’ve found someone willing to keep you company.”

“Grrr … You think I had any choice in the matter, her and the other women are stranded on this planet and as it’s my fault it’s only right I offer them temporary accommodation.” Vegeta bristles.

On the other side of the crowded room Ayeka has found herself in conversation with 18, a beautiful blonde cybernetic organism.

“Your daughter is really quite beautiful, she must get that from you but if you don’t mind me asking … who’s your husband?” Ayeka looks about the crowded room seeing a lot of men and then her eyes go where 18 points and sees Krillin. He is only a foot taller than her little sister and seems to have some dots tattooed on his forehead that are covered by his short black hair and he appears to be lacking a nose.

“Him?! But he’s …” Ayeka stops herself as she sees 18’s eyes narrow. Ayeka backs away and is about to try digging herself out of the hole she has stumbled in when a very well timed distraction saves her.

“Wow, so you are an android! This is incredible to think such a primitive race could produce such sophisticated technology. Even the ability to breed with humanoids, exquisite.” Washu jumps up inspecting every inch of 18 fascinated, whilst Ayeka slinks off to a quieter and safer area of the room. 18 does not like being reminded of her stolen humanity or what Dr Gero put her and her brother through. Not one bit. For all her intellect Washu really should have noticed the twitch in 18’s eyes and the clenching fists and if not for Krillin noticing his wife’s mood the outcome for Washu would have differed severely. As Krillin attempts to soothe and calm his love, Washu stalks off in search of a new source of information and knowledge.

“Hey Vegeta, isn’t uh that outfit that Ryoko’s wearing like Bulma’s.” The tall, long haired scar faced former bandit Yamcha asks Vegeta, who is no longer in discussion with Goku and is sat on his own.

“I allowed her to borrow them on the grounds that she herself owns no spare clothing, it’s not like they were being used.” Vegeta coldly replies trying to end the topic there and then.

“Yeah I thought as much. I’m sure those were the clothes that she wore when we first went to fight the androids … and I got impaled.” Yamcha looks sheepishly at his own stomach where several years earlier there was an arm straight through it. Vegeta on the other hand has no interest in continuing talking to his wife’s former flame and is more intrigued by the hushed conversation that Ryoko and Piccolo appear to be having. That is they were having before Washu interrupts in an attempt to study Namekian anatomy. Both silent warriors look across the room at each other and in unison head towards the door to the sunny day outside. The rest of the congregation follow them as the parents and other adults watch the children at play.

No doubt dissuaded by the extremely rough and tumble sparring that the young Saiyans are enjoying the two young girls enjoy each others company, socialising in the sand with Ryo-ohki frolicking in the surf. Chi-chi looks on worried as Trunks and Goten play some childish fantasy game of pretend with each other, but with a real sword. The lads finally tire of that game and look back at their parents before approaching their fathers. The two most powerful beings in the universe look down on their offspring as their sons challenge them to a fight. The Saiyans exchange a glance between each other and look down at their sons with a serious expression. A cacophony of laughter erupts from both of them at the thought of their sons trying to take them on. Wiping a tear from his eye Goku looks back at Goten and his friend. Frustrated by their fathers not taking their challenge seriously Trunks and Goten sidestep a few paces away from each other with their arms pointing away from each other.

“Fu … sion. . HA!” In one well practised movement the boys complete the choreographed technique and touch the tips of their fingers precisely together. Where their fingers touch a ray of light shines out and then envelops the boys. Its light intensifies until all but the Saiyans can look on at it without fear of permanent blindness. Slowly the light dissipates and as the women and other z warriors look back they see no longer the two children but one. Gotenks, the fusion of Trunks and Goten. More powerful than both of them and more confident and cocky then Vegeta in battle. With upright spiked hair like Vegeta but with streaks of purple down the sides and wearing a blue and yellow vest in the style of the Metamoran people, who’s technique they have just used.

“How ‘bout now, think you can take on the mighty Gotenks?”. Laughing at his self-assuredness in being able to take on his fathers now, Gotenks casually does some warm up stretches as he knows they cannot refuse his challenge. Ryoko, Ayeka and Sasami look on in disbelief. They might have seen the fusion technique done through the potarra earrings when they watched the videos of Vegeta but seeing this technique in real life is something else.

“Wow, the merging of two bodies and people to become one perfect being. This is definitely a most interesting planet. My research will advance in leaps and bounds here hahaha.” Washu is getting over excited by all the new data she is processing and has started to giggle manically. None of the others pay any attention to Washu. Goku and Vegeta are still smiling and look at each other. Their fists fly at each other and stop precisely millimetres away from the others face. Vegeta’s fingers are outstretched with the tips of his fingers nearly grazing Goku’s nose whilst Goku’s clenched fist seems to be just about to break Vegeta’s jaw.

“Ha, better luck next time Kakarot. I win this round, the fight is mine.” Vegeta steps towards his half son away from a disappointed Goku who lost the game of rock-paper-scissors. The two confident warriors smirk at each other and in unison float into the air and over the ocean. Instantly the fight begins as Gotenks ascends to super Saiyan and charges at Vegeta who also ascends. Their limbs are a blur to the onlookers but one thing they can tell is none of Gotenks blows are coming close to hitting Vegeta. Gotenks’ aura bulges and grows from his infuriation at not being able to land a single blow. Static discharge begins to occur around the fused fighter as he spontaneously bypasses super Saiyan 2 straight to super Saiyan 3. A trickle of blood appears down the side of Vegeta’s mouth. Gotenks withdraws his fist back and looks on exultantly.

Wiping the blood from his face and spitting the metallic tasting liquid from his mouth, Vegeta follows Gotenks example and transforms to his ultimate long haired form. The two combatants hold each others gaze until they both disappear completely from view. The women and human z warriors look around trying in a futile effort to locate where the fight is occurring. Now the only signs of battle are the distant tsunami like disturbances in the water and bone pulverising shockwaves rippling through the air. Occasionally flashes of light illuminate the silhouettes of where the two fighters where but have long since moved off from. Suddenly, Gotenks appears. The pain in his eyes is clear as he clutches at his stomach and bends forwards. An instant later a fist materialises along with the rest of Vegeta. A swift elbow to the back of the head, a knee to the belly and a two handed blow to the back sends Gotenks powerlessly diving towards the ocean. The descent of Gotenks is abruptly stopped by the chokehold that Vegeta has now got him into.

“I applaud your efforts, but your time is up.” Calmly Vegeta lets go of the beaten fusion of his son to be engulfed by the waves. A ripple in the air later and he is touching back down next to the other father of Gotenks, hair back to its original dark and spiky state. Without looking at each other they raise their hands and fist bump each other whilst they watch their now separated sons come spluttering out of the surf back onto the island. As the children collapse in a heap in a puddle of breathless exhaustion Chichi rushes to check on the wellbeing of her son.

Goten and Trunks both leap to their feet and run off playing again, both as fit and dry as a fiddle again, before Chichi is even halfway to them. Sighing she walks back to her husbands side, who along with Vegeta is now sniffing the air eagerly. Both Saiyans vanish from sight as Roshi appears in the doorway, still recovering from his encounter with Ryoko.

“ Food’s ready so better get yourselves inside before those two eat it all.” Roshi beckons them in as the group amble on inside. As the last one into the house Ayeka gets Roshi’s special attention and a groping hand to her backside. Shocked by such an affront to her she rapidly turns on him with the wrath only a woman could have. Roshi didn’t stand a chance. She leaves him in a heap on the floor with many reminders of why he should not behave in that way dotting his body and nightmares for many nights of the twisted visage of tempest-like fury.

The large group of people arrange themselves around the three tables pulled together and try and get any food remaining as the two Saiyans and their sons are quickly demolishing it all. Ayeka and the other women try to ignore their abysmally poor table manners and eat with proper etiquette, except Ryoko who seems to be embracing the Saiyan way of consumption. Halfway through the meal Washu, who with the body and stomach of a young adolescent has already eaten her fill, stares intently at the Saiyans trying to figure out the volume of their digestive systems based on the large intake of food … somehow they are eating more than their body mass in food and this foils her calculations. When all the food has been cleared from the table the Saiyans sit back in a content manner.

“So if you don’t mind asking, how did all of you come to be living with Vegeta of all people?” Gohan – the eldest son of Goku who is now a man grown with short spiked hair, horn-rimmed glasses, a stylish goatee and his girlfriend of two years Videl cuddling into him – politely asks them. None of the women seem to mind the question too much and begin to recount their stories. First is Ryoko who quickly begins her ‘true’ story.

“It all began when I was a little girl, no older than Sasami is now. My parents had abandoned me long ago, I didn’t know who I was and had nothing to my name. I had to live off what I could take from others without being seen, living a life in the shadows and gutters. Life was so hard and unforgiving, barely surviving from each day to the next. All on my own with no-one to look out for little me until, one day a boy helped me escape from the guards who were pursuing me. He took me in and gave me warm food and shelter. We were a formidable team for many years evading the guards all the time until … he … h-he betrayed me, sold me to the guards. Locked away in a prison where I was starved and beaten and abused whilst he lived off my bounty. I don’t know how long I rotted in that cell but it felt like an eternity, no windows or light it was just a dark cave, just me and the walls. It was so cold and lonely down there and with nothing to do I trained my body and became strong. Out of the blue the planet was attacked, fire rained down from the sky and all the cities burnt … so many people died. It was my one chance to escape and I took it, using my newfound power of phasing I took my chances and fled from the prison … only to be captured again by the invading forces. My long service as a puppet for Frieza was hell, forced to kill so many innocents, beaten by my superiors constantly and treated as dirt. Finally after so long I was free. Free to escape as the Cold empire disintegrated, rumours spread that Frieza had been killed along with his father King Cold. I began my long and perilous journey through space to track down the my saviour and thank him … and found myself on this planet.” As Ryoko finishes her tale with tears openly flowing from her eyes Chichi, Sasami and Videl struggle to keep back the floodgates of their tears from such a sad story.

“ Very impressive story, shame it’s a load of codswallop.” Vegeta announces. Ryoko is taken aback by how easily he saw through her façade of lies and deception, the others look at him.

“You forgot to mention the tiny fact of you being pursued by Lady Ayeka here and why thanking Kakarot was the last thing on your mind as you attacked me.” Ryoko stutters trying to think of a way to explain those things as the others look doubtfully at Ryoko.

“Well that’s to be expected from a lowlife criminal like her, hard to believe someone who’s been convicted of fraud.” Ayeka retorts as she outlines her upbringing as the first princess of Jurai and how she and her sister came to be going to a political meeting when they were viciously attacked by Ryoko and her spaceship and went off in pursuit.

“You can’t believe that, she’s lying. Do I look like the kind of person who would randomly attack another spaceship?” Ryoko’s counterargument is ignored and unheeded as Washu has now stood up to her full height – on a chair. Whilst the others only partially listen to Washu’s inflated ego boast over her great academic and scientific achievements and how she decided to leave the science academy to work for the Juraian empire and so ended up on Ayeka’s spaceship Ryuoh. As Washu ends her story Gohan seems pleased at the prospect of another like minded scientist and so gets into a discussion with her about her inventions which she evidently enjoys talking about. He takes off his completely unnecessary glasses and slots them in one of his suit’s inside pockets.

“So, if you’re stranded here and your spaceship’s broken, why don’t you try using the dragonballs to repair it?” Yamcha asks Ayeka and Sasami, who’s faces light up at this ray of hope and begin to ask and learn about how the dragonballs work.

“Vegeta do you still have that dragon radar that Bulma made?” Krillin cautiously asks. Vegeta’s cold look drifts over Krillin sending chills down his spine.

“I still have it and if Lady Ayeka desires so I will lend it to her. The other two wishes though?” Ayeka graciously thanks Vegeta whilst Washu and Ryoko both perk up after hearing about extra wishes. Conversations begin and end as time drifts past. The Sun is starting to hang low in the sky by the time Vegeta and his party leave the house to start their journey back. They say their goodbyes to the gathered Z warriors but as Vegeta turns to pick up Washu and Ayeka again a hand clamps down on his shoulder.

His signature smirk plays across his face as Vegeta turns around and looks up into the eyes of his rival as they both grin at each other. As the Z fighters see this they cower back and retreat into the house whilst Vegeta’s party of women look on not sure what is going on. A sandstorm brews around the two as their limbs fly at each other at such speed that it disturbs all the water around the island. Neither Saiyan has moved an inch when the fight stops. Still stood in the exact same place with no injuries or signs of fatigue on either as they shake hands.

“One of these days Kakarot your luck will run out and I will surpass you.” Vegeta gives a last firm squeeze in the had shake and turns back to the women as Goku goes back to his family. Flying back over the ocean with the sun setting and sending an array of colours in the sky seems to soothe Ayeka which Vegeta is thankful for. By the time they land back at his house the Sun has long since disappeared and night has taken over the land. Relaxing in the living room with Vegeta standing so that the guests can all sit down with Ryoko sprawled on one of the beams recuperating from the gruelling flight.

“So Lady Ayeka shall I get the dragon radar so that you can go and gather the dragon balls to repair your spaceship.” Vegeta queries the princess who responds with a nod and a smile.

“Well then tomorrow you will be pretty busy scouring the whole planet.” He sees she reacts the way he intended by looking shocked and worried by the Herculean task set before her.

“ As it seems you no longer hold such a fear of flying I could always carry you to the dragonballs.” Ayeka seems pleased with that news as she watches Vegeta climb the stairs and enter his room to fetch the radar device. He opens the drawer he recalls placing it in to find it empty. Thinking he might have moved it he rummages around all the nearby draws still not finding it, he even resorts to lifting up all the furniture with telekinesis to no avail. His sixth sense tingles and he looks to his doorway to see Ryoko messing around with what he was searching for. As he takes a step towards her she pulls and holds the handheld radar to her bosom and smiles at him.

“Is this what you’re looking for? Too bad it’s mine now and I’m not going to give you something that will help Ayeka to arrest me.” Ryoko looks at Vegeta trying to gauge what he will do next.

“ For all I care you can use one of the spare wishes yourself and you couldn’t stop me taking that from you if you tried.” Ryoko seems satisfied with this outcome and smiles at him handing over the radar as she phases out of sight to somewhere else in the house. Vegeta immediately goes downstairs and hands over the device to Ayeka who is appreciative of his help. With this done Ayeka and Sasami head upstairs to get some sleep as Washu has already escaped into her lab. Once again Ayeka thanks Vegeta for the hospitality but before she can accompany her sister to bed Vegeta stops her.

“ As someone of royal blood I feel it is only right that I allows you to use my bed tonight…” Ayeka turns red and blushes at such a proposition “… whilst I sleep in one of the spare rooms.” Ayeka stops blushing and happily accepts Vegeta’s offer. As she leaves and enters Vegeta’s room he sits down on the sofa waiting patiently. An hour or so passes and Vegeta is still sat in the exact same position downstairs with all the lights in the house off.

Upstairs Ayeka is fast asleep but not alone. A grinning visitor has silently entered the room and is approaching the bed. Ryoko who has phased once again into the room has finally successfully managed to sneak up to the bed and begins to hover. Now above the bed Ryoko flies over the unsuspecting sleeper and lowers herself down. Straddling the person in the bed, Ryoko grins mischievously. She bends over lowering her face closer to the one on the pillow until her lips are nearly grazing those of her target. Ryoko’s eyes widen as she sees the eyes in front of her open and realises she has made a grave error.

Downstairs a piercing scream reverberates through the house and a dark smile encompasses Vegeta’s face as his patience had been rewarded. Slowly he makes his way to the source of the night’s disruption and opens the door to his room. Both women are at each others throats. Shouting at each other and wrestling against each other. Any normal person would run away at a single look at the terrible anger burning in each woman’s eyes but this show of violence proves amusing for Vegeta. His slight chuckle as he approaches them draws their attention but does nothing to calm either of them down. Easily he gets in-between them and pushes them apart from one another. He walks up to each woman in turn and stands behind them holding them and adjusting them into a proper fighting stance before leaving the room. This touching and intimacy shocks both women who weren’t expecting it and they both blush and forget about their quarrel as Vegeta goes to find a room to sleep in.

I still think of how to continue this story further, but for the time being this rewrite is what i’m spending my time on … when i feel like it.

His highly attuned ears catch the end of a conversation, the voice is female and it seems quite worried about something. Weary from endless hours of martial arts he takes this as an excuse to end the session and to check upon his guests. Walking back into his abode he nearly stumbles into a frantic Ayeka. Catching her from falling and putting her back on her feet before she even realises anything has happened, he observes the mess in the living room and looks back to the troubled Ayeka.

“I hope there’s a rational explanation for this behaviour Ayeka, or else …”

“Oh yes, it’s terrible. I just can’t seem to find the dragon radar you gifted to me. I-I’ve looked everywhere but it’s gone and without it I just don’t know what I’m going to do and I …” Ayeka is working herself into a state and is on the verge of tears. Not wanting her to start a scene and also that like all men he has a weakness for crying or distressed women he gently puts his hand on her shoulder.

“It can’t have gotten far, now get a grip on yourself whilst I search for it.” Ayeka weakly offers a smile at the area where Vegeta was as he has now gone off to seek out the missing radar at supersonic speeds. Appearing in front of the person he deems most likely to know where the radar is he wakes her from her nap abruptly.

“You wouldn’t by chance happen to know where the dragon radar has suddenly disappeared off to now would you?” Vegeta accuses Ryoko who is still weary from waking up but hears the implication in his tone and takes offence at it.

“Nope, no haven’t seen it and if little miss goody two shoes over there can’t keep track of it then it’s not my problem.” Ryoko dismissively replies. Vegeta looks down at her calculatingly.

“Without that device no-one gets their wish, including you remember?” Not surprised in the least Vegeta sees Ryoko perk up and energetically begin searching for the device, all too easy. Having completed his entire search of his entire house before he woke Ryoko up he heads to the last place he hasn’t checked yet. Knowing all too well he could search for hours in there and still come up with nothing he steadily pushes open the door to Washu’s laboratory. Entering the realm of the unknown and best left unknown he decides on his best course of action and Instant Transmits behind Washu. The miniature scientist is engrossed with the machinery she is busy tinkering with on her work bench and so has no idea that Vegeta is silently walking up behind her, his footsteps completely muffled.

“ Now what do we have here? That wouldn’t be the dragon radar there now would it?” Vegeta menacingly declares looking over Washu’s shoulder at the dismantled electronics. Startled she abruptly turns around to she him leaning over her and sees his penetrating gaze. She starts to deny that thought but half way through her sentence he starts cracking the knuckles of each finger slowly and deliberately as his eyes darken. Even if he were just a normal man he would still be able to overpower her being twice her size and she knows full well he would feel no remorse in snapping her like a dry twig.

“Ok so I took it to run a few little harmless experiments on it, I’ll give it back to you when I’m done OK? Wait even better with my intellect I’ll improve and modify it, maybe even duplicate several copies of it -”

“ I don’t care about the details, just how long will this take?” Vegeta interrupts her half way through her spiel losing patience and not liking the way this day is turning out already.

“I’d estimate around a day or less, not too long working with this primitive device…” Before Washu can finish her sentence the shadow looming over her has gone and exited her lab, she lets out a sigh of relief and wipes her wet brow before returning to work. Arriving back into reality Vegeta looks about himself to see Ryoko, Ayeka and Sasami all looking about the house as if their lives depended on it. After enjoying the scene from the doorway for a while he goes into his living room where they all are and explains the situation to them.

“Apparently the radar will be unavailable for a day as Washu has taken it upon herself to investigate the device and … do something to it to make it work better.” The women look relieved by this news and so stop searching and begin to go about relaxing around Vegeta’s house. Trunks and Sasami have commandeered the television as Trunks tries to teach her how to play Earth’s video games so Vegeta heads off into his training room.

However, no sooner has he taken a step into his favourite room then he backs out, slams the door shut, splintering the wall, and storms into Washu’s lab with a red haze descending over his eyes. She is alerted to his prescence by the splintering sound as her door is kicked down again and Vegeta breaches into her dimension heading straight for her.

“Who do you think you are?! You’ve got some nerve woman. I kindly let you live in my house, even experiment on me and for what? You to do whatever you like in my own home! Messing about where you shouldn’t have gone, I’m afraid you’ve forgotten your place and I’m about to kick you back down there.” Seething with rage he stalks his prey, slowly following her every move as she attempts to flee deeper into the darkened recesses of her refuge. Each doorway she turns to scamper through reveals a waiting shadow.

“Wait now, come on be reasonable. I-I improved things in your home! Fine so I tampered with a few things, but now the artificial gravity machine can produce a much larger gravitational force and I’ve completely reworked the heating and energy efficiency of this dwelling, added a dimensional gate to my own luxurious personal bathing quarters and added a 3 dimensional output to the monitor in the living room.” Vegeta stops a foot away from her accepting this reason and leaving her again as he is curious as to how the increased force that the training room can generate could help his training regime. That thought is then discarded momentarily as the raised voices of Ayeka and Ryoko tear through the house again. Resigned to their inability to get along with one another he goes to try and establish peace or some semblance of it in his home and figure out what they are arguing about this time.

“Lord Vegeta this she-demon has gone and stolen my clothes, look she’s even shamelessly parading around in them.” Ayeka does not need to persuade Vegeta on this matter as he can clearly tell that what she is claiming is true. For all her guile Ryoko can’t spin a web of lies to get out of this one as she is wearing the offending items, another one of Ayeka’s many lavish kimonos but tied up loosely and exposing more flesh than the princess would ever be comfortable with.

Sighing to himself Vegeta momentarily leaves the two women to continue their argument before returning to them and handing over a small leather purse to Ryoko. She squeals in delight as she hears the jingle of coins inside and her eyes greedily light up at the sight of the golden cash, she goes to hug Vegeta. Allowing her to embrace him he explains to her how that money is for her to buy her own clothes with. With that she is off, out of the house and flying off in search of a city, town or anywhere else to spend her zeni. The look of disbelief and shock on Ayeka’s face says it all.

“What by the powers of Jurai are you thinking? Giving her money is like rewarding her for her barbaric behaviour this simply will not do.” Ayeka’s annoyance at Vegeta’s gift to Ryoko is surfacing clearly.

“It will stop her stealing your clothes won’t it? Anyway I only gave her a few million zeni …” Ayeka’s jaw drops at how flippantly Vegeta talks about such a large sum of money. “ … and as my son is the sole benefactor of Capsule corporation, that’s but a drop in the ocean to the wealth my wife left us.” He walks away leaving Ayeka in a stunned silence as her shocked mind tries to comprehend how his level of wealth could rival even hers. Looking out the window at the clear blue sky and the faint breeze stirring the trees, his primal yearning to be outside rather than cooped up in a metal box gets the better of him as he turns to face the princess.

“Lady Ayeka, would it not be in your interest to learn how to fly so I don’t have to carry you around? Come, I will teach you briefly.” He beckons her as he leads her outside, the surprised expression is quickly replaced by that of contentment as she follows his lead. With the warm summer sun bearing down on them she stands ready in front of him as he examines her with his sixth sense.

“Yes you have sufficient power so come, demonstrate your ki powers.” Vegeta stands with his arms at his side defenceless and ready for her show of power.

“Ki? What is that Lord Vegeta, I don’t understand?” The look of befuddlement says it all to Vegeta as he tries to explain to her what ki is. After several fruitless minutes of trying to explain life energy and the force that you tap into he gives up.

“I … I don’t get it. The power I tap into is the power of the Jurai Royal family that only those of noble birth can access.” The sound of his palm impacting into his face resounds and echoes across the landscape.

“Fine then just tap into that and blast me with all you’ve got.” He braces his legs and prepares for the impact, that never comes.

“What? I couldn’t do that. What if I hurt you, oh I couldn’t live with myself if anything bad happened to you because of me.” He looks at her and scoffs at the thought of her injuring him. His mocking and laughter at her impotence towards him succeeds in goading her to attack him. As the smoke clears after her blast Vegeta is seen checking his clothing to look at the substantial charring on it whilst Ayeka looks on at him regretting her actions and hoping she didn’t hurt him. The lack of any physical harm and the peak of her power he sensed leaves Vegeta disappointed.

“It’s been a long time since I met someone weaker than Raditz by that margin. I suppose though you do have enough ki though for flight, so start channelling that energy into your feet, not your hands, and slowly try and release it. Don’t want you blasting off your shoes now.” He says no more and watches her face furrow in concentration. Many minutes pass and all that has happened so far is most of the morning dew of the grass has been blown off from around Ayeka.

The prince calmly waits as he sees the disturbance in the grass increase in magnitude and the princess’ dress start to flutter about. Then millimetre by millimetre her feet leave the ground as she begins to hover a measly foot off the ground. No longer is she concentrating with all her willpower but now smiling gaily at her tutor. Her radiant happiness would be infectious to most people but Vegeta simply nonchalantly levitates as well and leads her over the lake at a snail’s pace. This simple act of moving whilst in the air is greatly building her confidence in her ability to fly as he continues to help her perform simple aerial manoeuvres. Her pure joy at this simple feat leaves her happily laughing as she ascends and descends with Vegeta above the lake.

“Yoo-hoo, Vegeta I’m back!” Ryoko and several large bags full to the brim materialise outside Vegeta’s house. Ayeka’s focus is lost by this surprise and she forgets all about channelling ki into her legs and plummets towards the lake. Her screams are cut short as Vegeta catches her with one arm and escorts her back to dry land. As she is released from his grip she continues to blush from the intimacy of the moment as he strides towards Ryoko.

He eyes the bags and looks at Ryoko who is more than happy to show off her many new purchases if Vegeta tells her what he was doing over the lake with Ayeka. In as many words Vegeta brusquely replies he was teaching her to fly, which in response leads to a torrent of laughter and mockery from Ryoko at the premise of Ayeka being able to fly. As the two women glare at each other waiting for a single spark to ignite their conflict into a full blown fight he intervenes. Their fight between each other is soon forgotten when they feel the strong hands of Vegeta on their shoulders. They turn from each other to look at him and blush at the contact whereas he just looks about disinterested and waiting to find out what Ryoko spent his money on.

Eventually the two women come back to their senses when he withdraws his hands from them and Ryoko happily rummages through her shopping bags showing off the many things she bought. Around a dozen different multi-coloured outfits she shows to Vegeta seeing whether he likes them or not … he couldn’t care less. After realising that her new clothing isn’t getting much of a reaction from the Saiyan she sidles up to him and quietly whispers in his ear.

“You know I also have a few more … private outfits that I’d be more than willing to show you.” She winks at him seductively as Ayeka watches and scowls. Ignoring Ryoko’s last comment he raises one of his eyebrows and points at the many other bags which don’t have clothes in. Her mischievous grin widens as she reveals that the contents of all the other bags are all alcoholic beverages of one kind or another but mainly sake and a large cardboard box containing a music playing device. He helps her carry the bags inside for no better reason than for some slight physical exercise as Ayeka leaves them to go and check up on her sister. With the bags set down out of the way Vegeta cannot continue being unproductive and heads off into the training room to see Washu’s improvements. As he starts to open the door to his sanctuary he turns to face Ryoko who was approaching him and about to say something.

“Let me train with you. I’m a space pirate after all, I have to keep up my strength.” Ryoko pleads. Vegeta concedes and allows her to join him knowing that she has no motivation for hard work and only wants to train out of jealousy for the time he spent with Ayeka earlier. She dashes off to one of her bags and gets out a red and black tight fitting jumpsuit and begins to change into it there and then, Vegeta sees this and hurries off into the training room before he sees too much. Not waiting for her to get ready he boots up the artificial gravity machine and puts it on an automatic setting and begins doing pushups.

He doesn’t look up as Ryoko saunters into the room but stays focused on his exercises, she glances at him then idles about exploring this new room she hasn’t been in before. Again she looks at Vegeta and then does some basic and rudimentary exercises in front of him in a vain attempt to show off. Vegeta continues paying no attention until the console has fully loaded and initiates artificial gravity, starting at ten times Earth’s gravity. To Vegeta there is no change, he feels nothing when his body drastically increases in weight, but for Ryoko however it is not.

She has never been under increased gravity situations before, most of the time she is in space and so doesn’t feel gravity or weight that often anyway. Her legs feel like lead and she is finding it difficult to move, but in plain sight of Vegeta she cannot show her weakness and must persevere through it. After a few minutes of pushing herself to her limits the gravity machine beeps again and it exerts fifty times the natural gravity of the planet. Sweat pours from her brow as Ryoko is brought to her knees under the crushing force that so far is still not effecting Vegeta’s movements or actions in the slightest. Struggling back to her feet Ryoko manages to stand up, but is shaking violently from the effort of it. Her eyes widen as another beep is emitted along with a rise to seventy five Gs. Sinking to the floor, with all her strength leaving her she collapses in a heap on the cold metal floor in a puddle of her own perspiration.

Looking over at her unconscious form Vegeta somersaults onto his feet and shuts off the gravity. Kneeling beside her he lowers his head towards hers and places two fingers on her neck, checking her breathing and pulse. Gently picking her up he carries her out of the training room to set her down on one of the sofas, standing back up he looks up at the other woman in the room and freezes. The shock of this woman is paralyzing his brain as he tries to comprehend, he detects no difference in her ki but physically something drastic has changed.

The woman in front of him is Washu. The last time he saw her she was near two feet shorter and around ten years younger. She now has the mature body of a woman and knows it. He continues to stutter and back away from her as his mind is still in disbelief. She slowly struts towards him in an extremely feminine way she was unable to do a few minutes ago.

“I take it that you no longer wish to be called Little Washu, but what kind of power is this to alter one’s own age, did you use one of your blasted machines?” Vegeta spurts out trying to buy time whilst his mind races as he watches her approach him.

“I do not rely on technology for this, it’s a simple feat which anyone of my intellect would be able to accomplish at will.” She disinterestedly replies whilst closing the gap to Vegeta who is unsure what to do in this situation. Ayeka strolls into the room bored from seeing her younger sibling so engrossed with those interactive virtual games she was playing and freezes when she sees the all new grown up Washu. Vegeta takes this opportunity where Ayeka basically repeats all of Vegeta’s questions towards Washu to slip away unnoticed in the background when her attention is elsewhere.

Now safely upstairs Vegeta takes a deep inhalation to calm himself and regrets breathing through his nose. Having olfactory sense that are as sensitive as that of a dog his own personal reek he has managed to produce through all his toil and labour nearly overwhelms him. Remembering his conversation with Washu earlier he thinks ‘now would be as good a time as any to see what she has done with my bathroom’. Silently padding down the corridor so that the women won’t be alerted to his location he opens the door to what was his bathroom but now seems the doorway to an entire new building.

As far as the eye can see there are pools of pristine waters, fountains made of enamelled metals, jewel encrusted wash basins and flora from around the galaxy decorating the land. Warily he enters, not trusting anything remotely to do with Washu. Carefully he walks around the large heated pool by the entrance and inspects the waters, testing it before deciding to bathe in it. Seeing a storage unit for clothes near the entrance and a towel dispenser he heads back where he entered, closes the door and begins to undress. Folding his clothes and placing them on a shelf he dives head first into the water. He breaks the surface and judges the distance of a length of the pool before starting to swim laps around the Olympic sized pool, for his idea of bathing does not include idling about. He slices through the water with powerful strokes at speeds parallel to those he is capable of on land, churning the water into a steaming, frothing current.

Sasami is bored of being cooped up inside and so has wandered off into the forest surrounding Vegeta’s house with Ryo-ohki for company. She is captivated by the natural beauty all around her and is not paying attention to how far off the beaten track she wanders. Unfortunately for her she doesn’t know yet about the few rare creatures that stalk the remote areas of this planet and at this moment one is watching her right now with its keen reptilian eyes. The Juraian child kneels to pick some of the many vibrantly colourful flowers when an ominous low thundering growl shakes through her.

Slowly she timidly raises her head to see the large mottled green scaly foot in front of her. In a frightened state of shock she continues looking up to see the full size of this terrifying Paozusaurus as it slowly opens its mouth. Petrified she stumbles backwards and begins to scream whilst Ryo-ohki stands her ground and hisses at the gigantic dinosaur. The high pitched screaming aggravates the dinosaur and so responds with a deafening ear-splitting roar. Saliva drools from its razor sharp maw as it moves it’s head closer towards it’s trapped prey, terrified beyond her senses the little girl cries out for her big sister to help her.

As impending doom looms closer and her tears start wetting her face a thunder like whip-crack resounds through the air. The jaws of death stop inches away from Sasami’s face. She opens her eyes to see a thin sliver of blood trace around the predators neck as its eyes gaze at her with a glazed expression. Sasami shies away again. The earth shakes and she feels the hem of her dress getting wet causing a fresh outburst of tears from her, when she feels a hand on her shoulder she nearly jumps out of her skin with fright.

“Heh, that was fun you wanna play some more?” Trunks impishly grins at her as she looks back at the freshly decapitated animal. With blood dripping from her dress she runs off back to the house so her sister can comfort her leaving a bemused Trunks wondering whether he said something wrong as he sheathes his sword.

Back in the house the space pirate rises from her slumber and looks about to see where she is. Slowly she recalls what happened and hears the drone of voices coming from the kitchen, still weary she can only just make out the sobs of Sasami and the gentle reassurances of her sister. Not interested in the slightest with the Juraian royals she gets to her feet and winces at the pain in her screaming muscles and sits back down. A few minutes pass as she massages her muscles into working condition again then phases in pursuit of the one she tried to impress but failed miserably. Not sure where he is she searches for a good long while before she pops her heads through one of the many doors to see a flurry of activity that could only be the one she seeks.

Fully phasing through the door so as not to attract attention from the swimmer a wide grin spreads across her face and she giggles as she slowly starts to remove her clothes. Throwing them in a rumpled heap on the floor she phases into the water directly in front of Vegeta. A sudden spike of ki is sensed by Vegeta as he halts in the water mid-stroke and water from his massive wake engulfs him and the person in front of him. Steaming the water from his eyes with energy he already knows that it is Ryoko before him but he wasn’t prepared for the sights he saw.

He blushes immensely seeing her wet and naked body before him before realising that his state of dress is no different to hers. His face turns an even deeper shade of red and she begins to slowly swim towards him with a wry smile on her face. Not needing to tread water as he can fly, Vegeta quickly improvises and uses one of Piccolo’s techniques to instantly materialise and spawn clothing on himself. Frowning at his … reluctance … she continues slowly swimming towards him in such a way to show off her womanly curves and body the most. With limited options and wanting to find out what the hell is going on in his life, he stops her by placing his hand on her damp forehead. She is confused at him by such a random place to touch her as she looks at his closed eyes, a weird sensation fills her head causing her to recoil away from his hand. She pauses and looks at him as he slowly opens his eyes with a worried and embarrassed look on his face.

“Wh.. what was that?” She asks inquisitively as she sees him slowly backing away, she continues moving towards him. He reluctantly looks at her again.

“I just read your thoughts … I know.” He slowly says, it takes a while for the words to sink in. Ryoko looks puzzled still for a bit and then it hits her, he knows. He has probed her, although not in the way he now knows she would like, and she turns a very deep shade of crimson as she blushes from what he must know. With her distracted he makes his getaway out of the bathroom … straight into Ayeka.

Barging into her accidently he once again catches her and puts her back on her feet before she knows what this sudden movement is but this time he places his hand on her forehead. Startled by the sudden jolt she is about to say something and then senses his hand on her head and the other feeling, she frowns in discomfort.

“I apologise Miss Ayeka” he says as he takes his hand off her head whilst blushing again. “ I had to clear some things up so … I read your mind” Her look turns from one of confusion to realisation to embarrassment to anger.

“How … h-how dare you i-invade me in such a personal manner it … i-it’s not right! A v-violation of this magnitude … h-hey come back here I’m not finished with you!” Not wanting to get a lecture on the moral issues surrounding knowing a persons innermost thoughts he continues his escape from the women leaping down the staircase in a single bound. Knowing only of one way to solve the problem of the troubling things he has found out he swiftly enters Washu’s lab and finds her sitting in her hover cushion only a few metres from the interdimensional doorway. Still running he goes up to her and demands to know how long until the dragon radars are ready for use. She swivels round to face him with a smile on her face.

“How nice of you to come, I knew it was only a matter of time before you paid me a little private visit, hehe.” By the time she has stood up Vegeta has had enough of being messed around with and takes matters into his own hands – and knows he doesn’t need to read her mind. Disappearing and reappearing in the same instant, he now holds all five dragon radars that Washu has been working on, to him they look the exact same. Frowning at his rejection of her she watches him press the single button on top of each radar for the same response, no dragon balls detected. Infuriated he crushes one in his hands and glares at Washu.

“Tell me you didn’t break them, or you will suffer the same fate”. With his gritted teeth bared Washu knows he is serious but unmoved by his show of aggression.

“None of the core electronics were changed, they all work perfectly fine. You think the greatest scientific genius in the universe would create a faulty product?” Her eyes show she is not lying and that leaves only one other reason left, could he have been so preoccupied with his training he didn’t realise? Angry with himself now he casts aside the radars at Washu who manages to catch most of them and vanishes into thin air.

Landing once again at Mount Paozu he calms himself down before approaching the lone houses in this wilderness. He bellows out the name of the only other surviving member of his race and waits for a response before calling for him again. The door to the house slams open and nearly falls off its hinges.

“What is it?! Oh, its you. My husband has gone away with our Gohan and will be back soon.” The annoyed house wife reluctantly lets him into her house to await Goku. Neither of them pleased with the situation they are currently in, they sit across from each other at the dining table and wait. The seconds drag on and the silence is left unbroken for what seems like an eternity. Having spent years at a time in transit between planets, Vegeta sits patiently until he hears the pitter patter of little feet.

“Um Mr Vegeta sir, is Trunks here?” Vegeta doesn’t bother to look at Goten and just slowly shakes his head. The disappointed kid then wanders off leaving the two adults alone again. More minutes pass before Vegeta decides to break the ice.

“So tell me woman, when is that kid of yours going to get round to marrying that daughter of a clown.” Apparently the first topic that came into his head wasn’t the best subject as talking about it seems to displease Chichi.

“I don’t know, maybe next year some time. Why are wedding bells on the horizon for you too?” He didn’t expect the question to be turned back round on him like that and resents the implications this woman is making. His eyes narrow and his brows furrow.

“Whatever you’re thinking you can forget it, those women mean nothing to me!” He snarls at her only just stopping himself from bringing his fist down onto the table. Her only response to his outburst is a sly raising of her eyebrows, the insinuations in those dark eyes cause his facial capillaries to expand.

“It’s OK, most people do choose to move on after the death of a loved one. In those seven long years without my Goku I was tempted to find company for those long and lonesome nights … but, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It just wouldn’t have been right with Goten and Gohan … and I knew he was going to return to me someday.” Not sure what to do with what she has just confessed to him another awkward silence begins and lasts until voices can be heard nearing the house. Goku doesn’t manage to set a foot into his own house as Vegeta immediately heads for him and grabs the front of his gi. Paying no attention to the young couple who have entered with Goku he snarls at him and lifts him off the ground.

“Kakarot, were you the one who used the dragonballs?” He continues to lift him higher but Goku’s height advantage makes it difficult to lift him any further. Not feeling threatened and used to this sort of behaviour, Goku just scratches his head trying to think back as to whether he did or not. Goku carries on thinking for a while as Vegeta’s patience breaks.

“It’s not a difficult question you damn fool, the dragon radar is not picking up any dragonballs, therefore they must be inert as someone used them and that someone is you!”

“But I haven’t used the dragonballs I swear Vegeta, at least I don’t think so.” Vegeta seems reluctant to accept this answer but yields and drops Goku back to the ground.

“No, dad didn’t use them. I did.” The prodigal son of Goku steps forward facing Vegeta who’s eyes narrow on him maliciously. “I gathered them and used them around three months ago, I only used one wish and that was for world peace, it’s about time they were used for such a noble purpose.”

“A Saiyan wishing for peace? I hope my son doesn’t get that sort of cowardice from a human mother.” With that last disparaging remark he barges through them and jets off back to his home to face the music.

Back with his home in sight and his feet with firm ground beneath them he holds his head in hands before approaching and entering his house. Trying to appear confident and in control of the situation he walks in to find all the female occupants of his house squeezed onto one of the sofas and sobbing at a wishy-washy romance flick they found on the upgraded TV-hologram. Not in the least bit interested by any of the broadcasts from earthlings he looks again at the women who have taken over his life. Ignoring the film, Ryoko and Ayeka look up at him and dry their eyes whilst blushing from the memories of their last extremely personal encounter. If only all of the women in his house acted like them for at a speed at which any normal being would have been taken unaware Washu stands and goes to envelop Vegeta in her slender arms. Unfortunately for her his reaction time puts insects to shame and she is left holding thin air whilst he looks on unimpressed from the other side of the room.

“Whilst you lazed about I went off to Kakarot’s shabby hut to solve our little situation, unfortunately I don’t return with good news…” The women seem interested by what he has to say and so switch off the television set to listen to him recount what he found out whilst visiting his rival and the implications of it. “ … The dragonballs will remain inactive for up to a whole month so Ayeka and Sasami you will be stuck her for a while…” He then looks towards the other two women. “… and only one wish will be available for use.”. Washu and Ryoko look down disheartened by this turn of events.

“ Oh well, guess it can’t be helped, we’ll just have to keep you company for a little while longer … and for the kind hospitality I even made a few more changes in your little training room …” Washu’s announcement gets Vegeta’s attention as he looks quizzically at her wondering what she’s been up to in his absence. “… if you must know all I did was simply install a holographic simulator that allows you to refight any battles that were recorded on those primitive discs of yours.” This news is the best he has heard in a long while, his face lights up as he prepares for what he deems to be a very important occasion. As he goes upstairs to put on his Saiyan armour Washu sits back down next to the women and quietly says to them. “I also built in observation cameras that feed directly to this television so we can watch him whilst he trains.” Both Ryoko and Ayeka rush for the remote to turn back on the Television. Having slipped on a clean new pair of white gloves and boots he lowers the expandable chest piece over his head and readies himself for battle.

Entering the metal chamber he notices few changes, a few new buttons here and there on the main console and a weird metallic box embedded with many glinting lights and diodes hanging from the ceiling, but apart from that it’s the same training chamber. Looking at the buttons he is glad to see that Washu has labelled them clearly and in the language of earthlings which he is now accustomed to. Gleefully pushing a combination of buttons he makes one of his most sought after dreams come true. The walls of the training chamber fade and are replaced by the rolling hills of blue grass and seas of green water, by a sky lit with multiple suns and no life in sight except for a few spindly Ajisa trees dotting the landscape. Before him a figure is simulated into existence, a small figure of the same height as Vegeta, the same figure he has wanted to pulverise into the dirt all of his life.

The white and purple alien standing before him is Lord Frieza in his final form with his tail swishing restlessly from side to side. The being responsible for his race’s destruction, his father’s death, his first death and why Goku was able to ascend to levels of power that were but a legend for him. He has to give it to Washu, she has perfectly recreated this foe as he listens to the mighty conqueror of the universe rant on about his awesome power and how he a small pathetic monkey will not take any effort to defeat. Having listened to monologues like that from Frieza he smirks at the memory and how Frieza still thinks he was as weak as he was on Namek.

Vegeta steadily gets into a defensive fighting position and with two fingers goads Frieza into trying his luck against him. Frieza smirks at the overconfidence of the Saiyan and gladly accepts the challenge charging into Vegeta. Vegeta doesn’t move an inch and before he knows it Frieza is laying into him left, right and centre. Blow after blow lands on Vegeta until Frieza decides to finish it with a vicious swipe to the face. The punch lands but, unfortunately for the virtual Frieza all it does is simply move Vegeta’s head slightly to the side.

“No, no it can’t be. The legends can’t be true.” Frieza slowly backs away from the Saiyan prince trembling as he sees that he is more or less uninjured. A flash of light and the piercing blue eyes of a super Saiyan are staring directly at Frieza with only one thing in mind. Savouring the moment he appears behind Frieza with one of his arms outstretched to the side and turns back to look at the still form of Frieza. Purple blood jets into the air as the ruler of the universe’s head rolls off his shoulders and comes to a rest at a pair of white boots. The detached head stares at him lifelessly as he brings his foot down in sadistic glee, crushing his skull and loving the sound it makes.

“He … he killed Frieza in a single blow?” Ryoko stares at the screen gobsmacked. She might have seen that he was strong but never did she think he was so strong as to voluntarily take a beating from what she thought to be the most powerful being in the galaxy and still be standing afterwards. What happens next shocks her even more.

Smiling and laughing manically with his old bloodlust returning to him and sending him spiralling down into the mind-set of a berserker, he punches in several commands in the control panel and awaits his entertainment. This time his fight isn’t a one on one, he chose instead to input ten of the tyrannical ruler to duel with him. War erupts. Fending off all of the heartless monsters at once the battle rages for over an hour but only because he allows it to, not wanting to spoil his fun as he toys with them pitilessly. Confidently controlling the battle the whole time he ascends to his highest levels of power in the transformation to super Saiyan 3 for no other reason but to see the fear in his opponents eyes. One after another is brutally executed in painfully torturous ways as he exacts his lost revenge on them all. Every one of them fail to land a single hit on him.

The women watch in stunned awe as they try and fail to follow his speed and agility on the projected hologram. Washu begins to mutter to herself as she attempts to calculate the impossibilities of the feats she is witnessing and mumbling incomprehensible science jargon and formulas. Ryoko continues to stare at the screen in amazement even when the victorious warrior emerges from the chamber in armour only scarred from the power of his own blasts. He continues past the women still in his super Saiyan three state which all but Ryoko have never seen before at such proximity. Ignoring the unwanted attention he is getting, he heads upstairs and shortly afterwards is coming back down dragging his son behind him.

He stops outside the door to the training room and simply points towards it. Trunks, knowing better than to argue with his father, goes in there and unsheathes his sword. Vegeta goes back to where the women are and leans on the back of the sofa and powers downs back to his base form. Ayeka looks at him, unsure of what to make of such a monstrously powerful person so close to her, but then she sees his fatherly pride shine through as he watches his son stand his ground and take on the same despot he fought with. His son has to go super Saiyan to fight the son of King Cold, but in the end Frieza is overpowered and tastes the cold steel of Trunks’ honed blade. Weary from the exertion of fighting a foe so strong Trunks nearly bumps into his father looking down on him. The descendant of Saiyan heritage looks up with a weak smile at his father who returns the smile and puts his gloved hand on his son’s head.

“I’m proud of you son, remember that. Now off with you.”. Ruffling the purple hair of his son as the youth runs back upstairs. Watching his son as he disappears around a corner he turns to face the three women. No longer with a smile of pride or battle euphoria his stone cold expression takes control of his face once again as he begins his speech.

“All of you will still be welcome in my home during this delay waiting for the dragonballs to become active again. However, none of you are allowed to show or express in any way your … your romantic interest in me. That is unless you prove yourselves to be worthy to me.”. They all see how deadly serious he is but Ryoko and Ayeka can’t help a little blush at how bluntly he has acknowledged their feelings for him.

“Prince Vegeta… how might one go about proving themselves if they …. Um” Too embarrassed to continue she blushes and just cannot say it aloud in front of so many peers.

“All it would take for any of you to prove your worth would be to cause me to bleed.” Vegeta sternly replies, turning from them to leave the room. All the women seem apprehensive by the herculean task set before them and Ayeka more so than the others, for she does not want to try and physically harm him in any way.

“Yaaargh!” Ryoko shouts and in a flash is across the room with her energy sword stabbed down into Vegeta’s armour. A faint sizzling sound is heard in the deathly silence as Vegeta slowly turns his head round to look at Ryoko. He smirks at her as she dissipates the sword to see her efforts were in vain for she didn’t even singe one of his hairs. Content with how he has sorted out the situation he leaves the room as Ayeka glowers at Ryoko for making the first move.

The women then go their separate ways with Washu slinking off back into her realm to reanalyse all the data she has collected on the Saiyan prince to pinpoint any of his weaknesses. Her research is faultless, her methodology superb but she is probably the only one in the household who can truly comprehend the sheer force and power known as Vegeta. Not truly disheartened by the news for she has no true romantic feelings towards the head of the house she turns her attention to other projects she has been studiously working on.

Ryoko sees whether trying to do some training like Vegeta to raise her strength to his level would do her any good but falters at the door remembering what happened last time she tried that and so goes for a nap instead to think. Attempting a more subtle approach Ayeka roams about the house and finds her younger sister still playing video games with Trunks. Saying she is playing against someone who has a lot of experience at the game and can control his body at supersonic speeds she is doing exceptionally well against him. Casually she asks Trunks about his father and whether he might have any metaphorical chinks in his armour.

“Weaknesses? No! My dad’s the strongest guy in the universe.” With that Ayeka sees it is hopeless and leaves the two children to their games.

Hours pass and the sun is now low in the sky, dinner has been had and everyone is resting letting their meals go down … save one. The man who never indulges in relaxation is sat on his own in the corner of the room meditating trying to ignore all external stimuli. Having opened one of the many bottles she bought earlier Ryoko is on her way to intoxication rapidly. Not following her example Ayeka and Washu refrain from drinking too much and only have a glass each, even this is pushing it for the princess of Jurai though having never dabbled with the firewater before.

Ryoko did try and offer Vegeta a drink but she should have known that he would never touch anything that could bring harm to the body he has worked so hard to perfect and improve. Ayeka notices that Vegeta is still trying to distance himself from her and throws occasional glances at him not sure what to do. The mood in the room would be a cold and sour one if not for Ryoko’s drunken debauchery that is obviously severely irritating Ayeka. Stumbling across the room and almost tripping over Ayeka’s feet Ryoko snatches the remote and turns on the TV with no thought or care about what the other people in the room want to watch.

“Ryoko turn that off right now, I don’t want to be watching such vile things.” The first thing that caught Ryoko’s eye was an old horror movie that does not sit well with the princess’ delicate sensibilities. The reply she gets is Ryoko’s tongue stuck out at her followed by many more rude faces and gestures. Ayeka snaps and a full blown row between her and the now instantly sober Ryoko is in full flight. Slinking away in the background Vegeta heads into his sanctuary and sighs to himself then does a few warm up stretches to prepare him for the course he has decided to take.

The loud clunk of the training room bulkhead sized door interrupts the women’s argument and Ryoko pushes a button and Vegeta appears on the holographic display in front of them. Seeing that arguing will get her nowhere and that she is now watching something she wants to, Ayeka calms down and sits back on the comfortable sofa. Trunks and Sasami come inside as they were playing outside but the dim lighting has forced them to end their game. The display shows Vegeta press several buttons and stand back from the controls as a rolling grassy landscape appears. The greens of the grass and blues of the sky seem more vibrant and alive then those of Earth but there is one blip of colour on the horizon, a small dot of pink.

“Huh, what’s that … it looks like, no. Oh no what is dad doing!” Trunks seems scared for his father as the pink blob starts to oscillate and slowly take on the form of a small pink humanoid with a long head tentacle. It takes a while for the women to place this villain from the recordings they watched a few days ago, but when they recognise Kid Buu they start to share Trunks’ apprehension and fear.

Vegeta slowly strides towards Buu who has taken up beating his chest and hollering for a reason still unknown to Vegeta. Soon there is barely a few metres between Vegeta and the short menace of the universe, and then they’re off. Minutes pass before any sign of the warriors emerge and then all it is are many of the hills and cliffs randomly vaporising or getting blown apart. Then both fighters appear exchanging blows and blasts right next to each other. Vegeta was hoping his newfound strength in super Saiyan three would give him an advantage, but he is forced to use the form to keep up with the speed of Buu.

The shockwaves and explosions from their intense duel is cracking the planets crust around them, the land deforming beneath their feet. Only rarely does either pugilist land a blow on the other and each impact is devastating. Vegeta never seems to have the upper hand as fatigue sets in from maintaining the transformation and the way that every single injury he lands on Buu is instantly healed by his regenerative powers. Pumping up his strength and increasing his power to the highest he has ever got it, he charges Buu in a last ditch attempt to try and vanquish him as he can’t rely on a spirit ball this time.

The lightning fast combo of strikes raining down on Buu is too much for him and his guard soon breaks taking blows to every part of his body and disrupting his amorphous form. The flurry of violence has taken a lot out of Vegeta who is sweating profusely and consequently is nanoseconds too slow to get his guard back up after the last blow. Buu repays every single blow to Vegeta tenfold as the Saiyan is slammed around and into the planet, decimating the landscape further. Trying to climb back out of a crater his own body made when he was sent to the ground a sharp cracking sound bursts from his outstretched arm. He shrieks in agony at his shattered arm and the continual assault from Kid Buu which he is now helpless to defend himself against. Executing a final move Buu charges and unleashes a point blank range salmon coloured Kamehameha wave inches away from the battered prince.

The audience watching him look on with horror and disbelief as Vegeta is enveloped in a blinding light … slowly the smoke and debris from the blast clears. Only just able to get his guard up Vegeta smoulders as he grimaces at the pain that racks his body in great throes. Protecting his own life with his broken and ruined arm he is left with only fragments of pulverised bone left in the mangled flesh that was his arm, the rest of his radius and ulna are jutting out of his arm or embedded in the small amount of armour that has survived intact in jagged splinters.

A grim look of pain and determination crosses his face and the anger from the throbbing his tortured body is hardly coping with gives him the required boost of energy he needed. Buu is just staring beady eyed with his mouth open, unable to comprehend how his attack didn’t kill him. The hesitation of Buu is interrupted by an uppercut to the chin, rocketing the pink destroyer high into the atmosphere of the Supreme Kai’s planet. Recovering in orbit of the planet Buu unleashes wave after wave of pink coloured ki blasts at the crumbling planet. An iron grip encircles Buu as Vegeta instant transmits behind him, grapples the mighty foe and dives towards the ragged rocks of the planet below.

Buu’s ability of transformation are no help when it tries to escape from the warriors grip, the first hint of escape and Vegeta summons multiple manacles of pure energy wrapping around his adversary. Letting go and coming to a dead stop only a few feet from the desecrated planet, Vegeta starts gathering energy as Buu hurtles through kilometres of rock into the molten core of the planet. Hoping the intense heat and pressure of the inner core will slow down Buu and buy him a few seconds, Vegeta cups his hands or what remains of them together and executes a gallick gun.

The planet and the destructive force known as Buu are instantly obliterated from existence in a shining amethyst conflagration. The last remaining vestige of energy that Vegeta had is gone as he floats in the vacuous abyss of where the planet’s implosion flung him, now in base form and bleeding from more wounds then he has intact bones. Coughing up even more vital fluids he manages a faint whisper to deactivate the training room (for Washu also installed voice commands). Like a lead balloon he falls and collapses onto the cold tiles.

Ayeka and Ryoko watch in deathly silence as he struggles to rise then slumps unable to move the wreck of a body he has. At the sight of him not moving they rush to the thick metal door to get to him, as Ayeka struggles with the weight of it Ryoko phases through. Not being able to get up at all, Vegeta just manages to lift his head to see Ryoko flying towards him and Ayeka in the doorway with the door swung wide open.

“Console, 450G!” He shouts through gritted teeth, knowing what will come. Lights on the console start to flash and Ryoko gets herself out of the room quickly, hovering next to the princess, both with no way to get to him.

“LEAVE …. ME …B… BE!” Vegeta screams at them as his fractured body is slowly being crushed, intensifying all of his wounds to limits previously undreamed of in the realms of agony. Trying as hard as he can, he stops himself from yelling out at the world of pain his body is forced to endure. No more can he keep his head up to look at them. His head thuds to the floor with a resounding meaty thud.

Helplessly looking around for a way to reach Vegeta the women start to fret just when a blonde saviour goes to his father’s rescue. Being the only one in the house able to survive in the conditions Vegeta has left his prone body in he quickly flies in and back out again carrying his father. Carefully laying his father down on the vacated sofa Trunks stays by his father’s side as Ryoko and Ayeka hasten to see if he’s OK – or more realistically going to survive. Drifting off into unconsciousness Vegeta smiles weakly seeing the two women leaning over him.

“Well looks like someone will need a little bit of medical attention. Don’t worry my lab is fully outfitted with all necessary equipment for me to nurse him back to health.” Chuckling to herself Washu looks down at the ravaged barely alive body.

“Leave dad alone, he doesn’t need your help.” Trunks steps forward in-between her and his father.

“Don’t be unreasonable, just look at him. Only I have the knowledge and facilities to heal him, it’s not like you can take him to a hospital.” Washu grins at how the situation is turning in her favour when Trunks decides enough is enough and carries the soon to be corpse of his dad elsewhere. The women tail him anxious for the health of Vegeta and stay by his side as Trunks lays his father down on his bed. The son looks back at Ayeka and Ryoko before opening a window and diving out of it, flying off into the sunset’s amber gleam. Washu who was slowly following behind, like a wolf stalking its prey, eventually gets to the room to see the two women barring her entrance.

“It is our duty as guests in this house to respect the wishes of Trunks so I will not let you in.”

“Yeah, what she said.” With that they slam the door in Washu’s face and go to Vegeta’s bedside inspecting the extreme major damage he has sustained. After a few minutes Sasami hurries into the room, past Washu sat down outside of it, and hands over a small first aid box she managed to find in the kitchen. Still disturbed by the bloodshed she saw earlier she has to leave the room whilst Ayeka and Ryoko carefully and tenderly nurse his bloody lacerations, gaping wounds and gore pumping slashes. The provisions that Sasami gave them were basic and all they could do was bandage the worst of his wounds and try to stop the worst of the haemorrhaging, the cooperation between the two rivals lasts a long time. That is until Ryoko has the smart idea of taking advantage of the comatose Vegeta.

“Well Ayeka it wouldn’t be proper if we didn’t check all of his body for injuries would it now, so you just leave the room and I’ll check under here.” Ryoko puts her hand on the Saiyan armour preparing to remove what isn’t seared to his mutilated flesh. Ayeka slaps her hand away threateningly.

“How dare you! He has been mortally wounded and you still have such abhorrent base thoughts on that filthy mind of yours, have you no compassion?” The women are about to lock horns when a great whooshing sound draws their attention. Landing back at his father’s bedside Trunks pays no attention to the squabbling women and feeds his dad a senzu bean. Reflexively the bean is swallowed.

The eyes of the warrior snap open as the bean works its magic repairing his body and providing him sustenance. Leaping out of bed he shrugs off the tightly woven bandages the women affectionately applied. Not sure what just happened the women look startled at Vegeta and how he is perfectly fine. As Trunks walks out of the door Washu seizes the opportunity and enters, to find to her disappointment her services are no longer required.

Turning around slowly and surveying his room and the women in it Vegeta smiles as he walks back to his bed. The women still look on unsure as he removes the sheets from his bed that were soiled with his blood and rips off what is left of his Saiyan armour. Without replacing any of the bedding he lays himself back down on the hard bed with several new scars on his chest and arms and small patches of carbonised clothing being the only thing protecting his modesty. Ryoko and Ayeka approach him and investigate whether he is as miraculously healthy as he appears. Staring up at the three women crowded around him he quietly asks them to leave him in peace. Ryoko and Ayeka put up no argument and leave, understanding he will want to rest after his near death ordeal.

“ You ended up in a bit of a sorry state back there … and it was my invention that caused all your bloodshed so…” Washu slyly sidles closer to Vegeta and leans over his bed.

“You just try it woman and I’ll show you bloodshed.” Vegeta stares at the ceiling not looking at her. With that threat in mind Washu silently walks out of the room dejected and closes the door behind her leaving Vegeta alone.

With a deep yawn the gears in his head start to chug into life and as he opens his heavy eyes a torrent of gushing blood rushes from his nostrils. Clutching his bleeding nose and gawping about in alarm, the other bathers in the room soon realise they are not alone anymore. Piercing screams ring through his head as the naked princess of Jurai attempts to cover herself before running off for her towel. Regrettably for Vegeta the other bather phases behind him and cuddles him, arms firmly around his beefy neck, pressing herself against his back.

“You’re bleeding Vegeta” She whispers delicately into his ear, her hot steamy breath caressing his cheeks as his face turns the same shade as the blood dripping through his fingers. Not knowing what to do, whether to try and cover himself up or stop his nose bleeding, to try and turn and run the Saiyan’s mind goes into meltdown. Ryoko’s hands soon start to explore the smooth musculature of Vegeta’s chest whilst he stands still in shock. Appearing once again but now wearing a silk smooth light pink bathing towel for modesty Ayeka comes back into view charging towards Ryoko.

“Unhand Lord Vegeta this instant you foul demon!” Her cheeks still flushed with colour from being caught and seen in the nude by a man for the first time, she draws closer to the two sources of her distress. Yet she fails, for she cannot bring herself to look at or go any nearer to the naked body of the near vegetable state Saiyan.

“Hahaha, what was the princess? Didn’t quite catch tha … oh my, look what we have here.” The taunting and goading from Ryoko frays the last remaining thread of constraint. Grinding her teeth, Ayeka turns and lunges in a head on attack at the woman groping her prince. Her eyes widen and her mouth falls and gasps in shock as the might channelled into her fist simply passes straight through Ryoko’s Cheshire smile. Turning her body corporeal again and with one deft hand movement a towel slowly drifts down to the floor, as do a few more drops of blood. Squealing in mixed shame and disgrace Ayeka tearfully runs off covering herself.

“Let’s begin where we left off now…” The space pirates hand and gaze begin to drift down over his chest and stomach. Coming back round to his senses when he detects her delicate fingers at his navel the prince of Saiyans mind has successfully rebooted itself.

“Here, take this drying cloth.” An extended arm holds out a spare towel to the crying young woman. Hesitantly she turns her head to see the source of the gruff voice. To her relief it is Vegeta and he is no longer baring all for the world to see. Timidly she accepts the towel, thankful that he has averted his eyes from both her and Ryoko who is angrily floating in the air where moments ago she was so close to achieving her heart’s desire. Dressed now in a dark crimson gi, similar in style to the ones that Goku wears except for the lack of an emblem, he instant transmissions out of the bathroom and to his place of refuge and sanctuary where the women dare not go.

Panting for breath as his mind is still racing from what happened and nearly happened due to his grave error of barging into the bathing quarters without thinking. The distant sound of a door closing followed by a whooshing sound of his son leaving to get an education like his mother wanted him to barely registers to him. His thoughts are still drifting around what he saw, what they saw and how another woman has touched him in the way only Bulma had before.

“…Bulma.” His mean and cold eyes start to glisten with moisture. Blinking and clearing his eyes he jabs at the control panel, snarling at how pathetic and cowardly he behaved. The console starts to groan as it is forced into giving off its maximum capacity of five thousand times Earth’s gravity. Scarcely able to hold up his own body weight he bares his teeth and growls from the overpowering strain and effort.

His body is stronger than it has ever been for a Saiyan’s might grows with each battle and near death experience, like the one he suffered through last night. Testing himself and the new limitations of the upgraded training room he channels ki around and through his body to protect it from crushing itself. One burden though is weighing down on his heart more so than any amount of gravitational force could muster and that is the memory of his first love.

“I … I have betrayed you.” Through clenched and bared teeth he forces these words out of him, hoping a verbal confession would ease his gut wrenching feeling of guilt and dishonour. Knowing of only one way to purge these painful self-destructive emotions a guttural growl is slowly released from his throat as his fists clamp shut and eyebrows furrow. Teeth grind against each other, fingernails start cutting into his palms and the air around him starts to glow with a brilliant purple hue. The jagged purple rays burst into pure golden rays as his muscles grow in the ascendant transformation to his strongest form. Finally, with all his heart and soul, he lets the agonised roar rip through his chest and throat. The floor and earth beneath him start to convulse and tremble as he releases all his heartache in a crescendo of pure power, rage and noise.

“Huh, what is going on? Ryoko is that you?” Having quickly gotten dressed and still recovering from her embarrassing ordeal the purple haired maiden looks across to Ryoko who has thankfully decided to put on some clothes.

“Does it look like I’m doing anything?” Ryoko flippantly replies whilst attaching one of her tails onto her new blue dress and pink waistcoat. “ Anyway that sounds like … Vegeta!” Phasing into existence downstairs Ryoko peers through the porthole of the door leading to the training chamber and is forced to shield her face and avert her eyes from the blazing beacon of energy and the man at the centre of it.

By the time Ayeka cautiously comes down the stairs to investigate the commotion her least favourite person has gone and switched on the T.V hoping that Washu’s cameras in there would offer a better view. Ayeka walks up behind Ryoko to get a better look at the screen as Washu’s observation cameras automatically adjust themselves to the great amount of blinding illumination to reveal the third form super Saiyan. Blood is flowing freely from his hands as the salty waters of his eyes trickle down his face before exploding in instantaneous evaporation making the room appear like a sauna. The roar eventually dies as even Vegeta’s lungs exhaust themselves before pulling in more oxygen to continue cleansing himself of the deep cutting anguish.

“I … I don’t know what to do….” As the deafening noise of his yelling stops echoing around the small metal room, faint sobs wrack his body. Having never properly grieved for his wife’s passing it has finally caught up to him.

“Buuulmaaaa!” Sinking to his knees his hair shortens and darkens as he starts pounding on the adamantium tiles. Not knowing or caring that his tormented wails are being heard his blows continue to crack and demolish the floor.

“My … my actions have soiled you … please … FORGIVE ME!” As soon as it started he ends his mourning and quietly tells the console to shut down. The whirring of the machine slows and ceases whilst he stands still staring at nothing and everything. The two women continue to gaze at the screen longingly unsure if trying to comfort the blackened and torn heart of Vegeta would be a wise decision or just inflame the situation more. Terminating his contemplation on his bereavement he looks down at his ruined palms and the decimated tiles and closes his wet eyes. Slow deep breaths permeate the air as his chest slowly rises and falls. He vanishes.

Squatting down he rinses his hands in the now sullied waters of the lake and splashes some of the cooling water onto his face, eradicating the memory of tears from his countenance. As the ripples he has caused drift slowly across the lagoon he stands back up with his regained frosty demeanour of callousness. Fists and feet begin to fly as the ever restless warrior hones his martial art moves and techniques to perfection in the outside sun. Testing out new movements, defensive positions and guards, learning the blind spots and openings in his attacks he catches a fist from behind him and turns to face his opponent.

With her new blue dress billowing from the rapid movements Ryoko starts to spar with Vegeta. Amused by these pitiful and feeble blows that are casually and effortlessly caught and blocked he begins to toy with her; seeing how close he can let her attacks get to him before he has to dodge or simply observing all the ways in which he could take her down with one blow.

“I feel like we’ve done this whole song and dance routine before … you had better realise that with but a fraction of my power I could kill you with but one well placed finger.” Trying to goad her into reckless attacks and anger at the insult of her weakness he ducks and catches the soft fist of Ayeka. Having the ability to sense her intentions before the princess even left the front door he is still surprised by her actions. Her physical build is not that of a fighter or warrior, she has far less musculature and strength then the other woman he is sparring with yet all the same she is giving it her all. The exertion of the fighting begins to weary the two young women as they start to flag and tire.

“Dirtying your hands in bare fist brawling, I wonder what could have brought this on Ayeka? Surely you weren’t getting jealous from the physical intimacy of the sparring between me and Ryoko here?” Right on cue this halts the women’s actions as their cheeks begin to slightly colour. Not truly needing their guard to be down and with no movement at all he repulses the women back away from him a few metres. Struggling to remain on their feet and desperately trying not to end up sprawling on the floor both of the fairer sex in unison spring back towards him to re-join the fight.

“Oh Vegey!” A small redhead calls from Vegeta’s house distracting him with that pet name his wife called him by. With his attention focused solely on Washu, back in her adolescence, he completely forgets about the two women bearing down on him. With two impacts both equal to a train hitting him Vegeta is still frozen in place staring at the scientist. Ayeka quickly recoils her fist and starts to apologise for hitting him but it falls on deaf ears as he has his target in sight and is ready to pounce. Bringing Ryoko with him as she still hasn’t moved her fist from his cheek he appears behind Washu and grabs the back of her neck. Being violently lifted up and turned to face the tenant of the house she submissively looks into the stygian and harrowing depths of his stare.

“What. Did. You. Call. Me?!” Her squirming and distress brings great sadistic joy to him whilst her feet dangle helplessly and Ryoko flinches away from him.

“Whatever do you mean? I-I called you Vegeta … Prince of all Saiyans.” Accepting her fabricated innocence as a lousy form of an apology he slowly lowers her back down but still keeps his firm grip on her neck.

“What is it then Washu? Why did you interrupt our little bout?” Feeling a slight shudder run down the spine he could so easily snap he releases her and steps back to her great relief.

“My long range scanners picked up a large craft approaching Earth. It appears to be a Juraian vessel and will arrive here in …” The sudden lack of Vegeta in front of her cuts short her explanation. A slight snarl appears on Ryoko’s face as in her mind this can only mean trouble. Whilst Ayeka, who didn’t hear what Washu had to say, is stepping towards her asking her to repeat what she just said. As soon as Washu opens her mouth to begin again darkness falls upon them as a great shadow engulfs the three women. Holding the spacecraft aloft above his head the women’s attention is drawn to the Saiyan counteracting the momentum of a spaceship with brute force before flying it down and landing it under his own steam. Reappearing back by the women and Sasami who has joined them out of curiosity he subtly examines the expressions of the two royals. The happiness on Sasami’s face is clear for the world to see, but Ayeka seems ambivalent about this unexpected arrival.

Air hisses as the airlocks depressurise and a large wood like panel of the ship gracefully lowers itself down to form a ramp like gangway. The interior of the expansive ship is still hidden in gloom and shadows. A large misty shade moves out of the darkness and into the Sun’s rays. A slim built man with hair as black as the night tied back loosely into a long flowing ponytail. His slight fringe flutters in the breeze over his expressionless dark brown eyes and his long flowing pure white robe adorned with red and gold emblazoned pauldrons flaps against his legs. Raising his strong jaw he surveys where his ship was ‘escorted’.

His eyes travel over to the group of five humanoids on the other side of the lake and the crashed Juraian ship behind them. With a barking order that echoes through the tranquil scenery more obscurities rise from the depths of the ship’s interior. Rushing forth out onto the grassy meadow an honour guard of similarly dressed men appear. Over five score men all armoured and armed with long halberds, spears and naginatas. The deadly shine off of the keen metal seems to illuminate the leader of the group as he marches in front of his men.

The air hisses and as the Juraian leader turns back to look at the party of women in the distance, he is instead greeted by the harrowing eyes of Vegeta. His eyes and mouth widen in shock but quickly close to show no sign of weakness to this man before him.

“I presume your landing was comfortable? Now before I send you back to wherever the hell you came from answer me this; what is your business on my planet?” Vegeta steps closer to the new arrival and stands up to his full height, unfortunately he is still nearly a full head shorter than who he is trying to intimidate.

“ My name is Yosho Masaki Jurai, I come to this planet seeking my fiancée who mysteriously vanished in this sector. My sister’s name is Ayeka, have you by any chance happened upon her?” Yosho looks down at the Saiyan then back up trying to make out if his sister is among those stood in the distance or not. Seeing a man appear right in the midst of the women Yosho shakes his head in astonishment and glances back at where he thought Vegeta was still standing.

“ So there was a reason that the high princess of Jurai was alone in space with no crew on her ship, no guards and no armed escort. Now I know the true colours of Juraians …” With Vegeta but mere inches away from her face Ayeka looks puzzled at him, trying to hide her niggling doubts and suspicions about who she suspects he just talked to.

“Wh-whatever do you mean Lord Vegeta? I told you we were on our way to a political meeting between the different families of the Juraian high court.” His eyes pierce into her very soul. She tries to maintain his stare knowing that turning away would be to undoubtedly prove her guilt and his accusations.

“Different families of the Juraian high court, seems to me that you people seem to like keeping things in the family. Or is it just my imagination that your brother over there said he was engaged to you! … What kind of sick place is Jurai to allow such foul things?” With that said he turns his back to her to see the entourage of Juraians slowly trudge around the lake towards him. Ryoko and Washu both look at Ayeka with a look of mingled shock and disgust.

Her smaller sister gently holds one of Ayeka’s trembling hands to try and comfort her. Looking at the dirt on her shoes through a fine mist over her eyes she thinks back to the moment she disgraced her family. When she tore away from her planet at top speed leaving behind her people, her family and Yosho.

Still with her head dropped in shame, not daring to look at the people surrounding her, judging her, her brother arrives before the group. His head held high and with a small smile playing across his face knowing that his bride-sister is safe and found, he calls and waves at her. Meekly raising her face she timidly returns the gesture as does Sasami. Sweeping his eyes over the rest of the group Yosho’s eyes linger on one person in particular, sure that he remembers her or at least that semblance from somewhere…

“Surrender now villainous space pirate! Your days of tyranny are over Ryoko!” Pointing at the cyan haired woman with one hand whilst the other quickly moves to the sword at his belt’s hilt. Yosho assumes her to be responsible for taking her sister hostage on this planet.

“Men, on me now. Attack!” As a single unit the Juraian guards lower their weapons and charge in a headlong sprint at Ryoko who is still surprised at being recognised.

“Aaaaaaaaargggggghhhhh” Every single armed man collapses to the floor in a heap, each one with their spears shattered, knees and arms broken like twigs and pain wracked cries bursting from their throats. A single man stands in the midst of the fallen Juraians. Bloody knuckles drip onto the trampled grass.

“ That was a grave mistake Yosho. I’m afraid this planet belongs to the Saiyans and the puny Juraian empire has no jurisdiction here, so why don’t you just try that again and see how far it gets you.” Vegeta calmly announces whilst wiping the gore of his victims onto his same coloured loose garments.

“Surely you jest? The scourge of the galaxy known as the Saiyans was thankfully eradicated from existence decades ago.” Yosho scoffs back at the man who single-handedly took down his entire force in the blink of an eye, without damage nor with fatiguing him in the slightest.

“Oh you wish! I am Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, and I’ll tell you just this once the Saiyan race is not dead and this planet belongs to me!” Raising his hands and clenching them into a fist, Vegeta snarls in rage at the insult to his species as the immobilised bodies of the crushed guards begin to rise into the air along with other small loose objects from the ground. Alarmed by this show of power Yosho staggers backwards away from the surging emanations from the Saiyan.

“Vegeta? That name also rings a bell. If memory serves then that was the name of one of a trio of fiends who at the very least destroyed five of our most heavily colonised planets … leaving no survivors.” Yosho stands his ground now, showing he will not be sent back with his tail between his legs. With a swish of his wrist all of the comatose elite warriors of Jurai are hurtled by Vegeta over the head of the other prince and land in a neat pile at the foot of the ramp from which they left mere minutes before. Yosho appears unfazed by the sight of his subordinates being treated like ragdolls and keeps his eyes firmly on the face of Vegeta.

“Yes, I suppose I did do that didn’t I, ha. The punishment for that is death, is it not? Well then I should warn you that neither I, nor Ryoko, will turn ourselves in. I’m afraid it’s bad luck for you, I’m resisting arrest.” Walking back to the spectating Washu, Sasami, Ayeka and Ryoko he leaves the Juraian to make his choice. Ryoko moves to the man who once again has bought her freedom to thank him when a quiet voice comes from Yosho.

“Return with me Ayeka. You must return, don’t you see? Without this marriage a civil war is inevitable. The balance of power in Jurai is an imbalanced thing at the best of times swaying on the brink of disaster, would you honestly want to plunge the whole empire into a civil war?” Yosho pleads to his sister, stepping slowly towards her with his arm outstretched. The slight trembling in Ayeka’s hands slowly intensifies as her brother draws closer. Pulling out of Sasami’s comforting hold she takes a small step towards her arranged fate. A blank look of resignation on her face as a single solitary tear starts to form in the corner of her eye.

“You don’t have to listen to him, what he is proposing is wrong.” The rough hand grasps her shoulder tightly. Flecks of red from the downed guards rub off his palms onto her robes. Without turning to face him, for she knows she cannot and still keep her composure, she solemnly shakes her head.

“But … I have to. I have duties and responsibilities I must attend to. I.. I have no right to neglect my roles as a member of the royal f-family for ch-childish and selfish reasons.” Her voice is barely audible. Her words catch in her throat several times as she forces herself to say these painful words. Trying to persuade herself as much as the man she has grown to care for.

“This surely cannot be the best course of action to take. Although Saiyan’s never had much want for peace, each royal family never wanted to lose the throne to another. Assassinations and murders were commonplace, but our honour never allowed us to stoop to such lows as you are about to.” The prince of Saiyans removes his hand from her and looks at her face, awaiting a response. Her head slowly turns around. Gracefully she faces him and smiles weakly. Her single tear falling down her face. Thinking that he has finally solved a problem with his tongue and not his fists, Vegeta inaudibly growls as she turns and continues towards Yosho.

“Is this what you really want? Truly there is no other way?” Yosho shudders as he hears the harsh tone of Vegeta arise from behind. Quickly turning round to face this powerhouse of destruction he impulsively raises his arms in defence seeing the hand of his foe reaching toward him. Looking like a fool, Yosho now lowers his arms seeing no menace in the face of Vegeta and a glistening teardrop in the palm held out towards him. The tear of his sister. Swishing his hair from side to side as he looks from the stern face of Vegeta to the gentle forlorn face of Ayeka a coy smile unfurls on Yosho’s face.

“ I am the only Juraian prince from the Masaki household, it is impossible for power to be shared between different houses of Jurai. The only possible marriage for us two is to each other and if not then a dispute for the throne between us will surely begin. The other families of power will jump at this chance and soon begin to make their claims and before you know it anarchy will erupt and destroy the empire we have worked so long and hard to build and maintain. I do this not because I want to, believe me I don’t, I do this for the consequences of not doing so are too severe. … However …. There just might be another way, a way that has been overlooked but still if … hypothetically speaking … my sister were to marry royalty that did not belong to a member of another house of Jurai, maybe not even the same species. Maybe a prince from a species well known for their might and power … someone she knows and wouldn’t mind marrying …” The crystal clear insinuations in Yosho’s tone causes a flutter of butterflies in Ayeka’s stomach as she quickly hides her head in her hands to cover the spreading blush. Vegeta stares at Yosho’s calm expression for a few seconds too shocked to do anything else in that time, nothing but stare and think about what he just said. Embarrassment soon catches up to Vegeta which he quickly turns into his favourite emotion, the one that coincidentally Ryoko is feeling at this exact same time. Anger.

“Bravo you nearly had me there, here I was thinking you were an honourable man for a second. I have the blood of billions of innocents on my hands; women, children, the old, the frail, the weak and the defenceless – even those of your own race I have slaughtered in droves. You have witnessed but a taste of my power as your men fell before you. You who comes here talking of incest and somehow make it worse, you offer your innocent sister to the likes of me. What kind of man are you? This is a matter for men to decide, leave me and this planet out of it. Begone, go find the solution to your little problem elsewhere.” Vegeta points at the Juraian spaceship, his eyes showing no hope of persuading him.

“I cannot do that, I will not leave my sister here on this planet.” Yosho meets the gaze of Vegeta like two bulls locking horns.

“You will be leaving this planet, you decide whether you’ll be alive when you do.” The threat from Vegeta drips with the knowledge that he can easily back it up.

“No please, Vegeta! Don’t kill Yosho, please!” Ayeka pipes in, the look in her eyes distracts Vegeta momentarily. She fears Yosho, fears him for the marriage that was arranged between them and yet she would still plead for his life and safety. For her sake Vegeta reluctantly nods at her then turns back to face his foe. In the fleeting moment he just had with Ayeka, Yosho has taken the opportunity to draw forth his sword, or to be more precise the hilt of his sword for it bears no blade.

The intricate craftsmanship of the small weapon showed that this was a saber lovingly made not just for ceremony but for practicality. The three red ruby like spheres embedded in the pommel glow and with a flash a smooth long sapphire blade of energy bursts forth from the hilt. Rushing him with a sideways feint followed by a viciously fast downward swipe, Yosho’s face gapes in awe and terror simultaneously. With but one finger Vegeta holds the blade locked in position millimetres from his head. His fingertip on the point of the blade crackles as sparks of energy dance between them. Lifting his finger slightly up and then bringing it back down with a loud fizz, bang and a crunch.

The now dormant hilt drops to the floor as the Juraian prince clutches at his arm. Having judged his strength just right Vegeta managed to minimise the damage done to him and only turn all the bones within his hands to fragments no bigger than dust. Looking at the man he felled so easily with distaste and his sister worriedly running towards him. As she frets over the damage done to her brother Yosho gives hers a pained smile.

“Ayeka, I will respect your decision. Is this what you want? To turn your back on your race and duties and to be stuck on this rock?” Before she answers he can tell from the look in her eyes that what she is about to say is the answer he didn’t want to hear.

“Dear brother Yosho I know it’s cruel and selfish of me but …I don’t want to marry you. I can’t stand the thought of it so yes, I would prefer to stay here. At least for a little while.” Accepting her rejection easily for he never had any interest in marriage either, as they embrace as brother and sister before he stands and faces the man he lost Ayeka to.

Vegeta offers his hand to Yosho and the Juraian takes it with his still working hand. They both grip firmly in the handshake but Yosho knows not to try and push his luck with Vegeta or else he would end up without the use of either hand. A slight wet feeling causes Yosho to end the handshake and pull his hand back. He sees within his palm a small wet circle. The tear of Ayeka. Both men smile at each other in understanding. Leaning in close Yosho begins to whisper.

“You know if you did one day marry Ayeka you would be heir to the crown of Jurai, just saying.” Yosho’s last ditch attempt is scowled at by Vegeta who gives a curt response.

“I have no wish for reigning over subjects as pitiful as Juraians, politics is a boring thing and I’m sure Jurai would hardly be in support of me being heir. If that is what I wanted I could take the throne on my own with ease.” With that Yosho heads back off to his ship and up the ramp, thankful that his men landed just on the ramp so that he wouldn’t have to carry their limp bodies with one hand. As the ramp door slowly rises Yosho waves a last farewell to his sister and this time her returned gesture is no longer a meek one.

With the door closed and the airlock pressurised a few minutes pass before a loud groan erupts from the ship. The raucous sound eventually bursts forth into an almighty roar as the spaceship ascends vertically towards the heavens quickly becoming just a twinkle in the blue sky. Soon the twinkle disappears and all that remains to show that another extra-terrestrial visit had occurred are the downtrodden grass, spattered blood patches and the fresh tears rolling down the princess of Jurai’s face.

Feeling part of the reason why she is crying Vegeta goes to her and after an awkward moment of hesitation hugs her, hoping that this will stop her tears. If on any other occasion this had occurred she would be blushing and madly embarrassed but now it is what she needs. A shoulder to cry on and the warmth of a man to comfort her. With one side of his gi soaked with the tears of a woman Vegeta watches as she disengages from him and slowly starts back off towards the house with Sasami running up to her. Unsurprised by the sound of someone phasing next to him, he also lets Ryoko hug him knowing full well that the green eyed monster would not allow her to let Ayeka get a hug and not her.

“You saved me again! You don’t know how grateful I am that you stood up and protected me from him. So grateful, how can I repay you?” Her mischievous smile and wink say it all.

“Some discipline for you would not go amiss.” Vegeta grumbles, still not particularly comfortable with Ryoko pressing herself against him as tightly as she is.

“Oh?! Have I been misbehaving? Am I a naughty girl who needs a good spanking?” Ryoko cheekily quips. Thoroughly unamused Vegeta just frowns and looks down at her with a steely glint in his eye then back up as she has cunningly positioned herself so when he did so he would get a nice look down her top and at her ample cleavage.

“No I was thinking more along the lines of using you for target practice.” With that she pouts, lets go of him and phases off elsewhere. Sighing to himself he goes to the training room to complete his endless pursuit of omnipotence. Before he closes the heavy door behind him to start his session, he hears the quiet voices of Ayeka and Sasami drifting down from upstairs, with a huff he slams the door shut.

Hours pass and Sasami is back outside with Ryo-ohki picking flowers by the lakeside knowing not to wander off too far from the house now. Both Ayeka and Ryoko are sat down in the front room, the T.V. long since turned off for Vegeta’s ability to move faster than their eyes can follow negates the point of watching. Nursing a large bottle of sake Ryoko is trying to stem off boredom as much as the princess sat opposite her is. Sitting quietly Ayeka is left only with her thoughts and after earlier events she badly craves a distraction to take her mind off of it.

Standing up she slowly ambles her way to the shelves crowded with hardback books and randomly selects one. Just one look at the front cover and she knows it was a futile attempt. This planet does not use a written language she knows and unless Vegeta brought books with him from his spacefaring days she would be hard-pressed in finding reading material. The only other item that appears of any interest is that large metal box that Ryoko bought. Curiously Ayeka walks up to where the machine sits in the corner and starts to examine it.

“What is it? Do you want to try out my Karaoke machine?” Ryoko chimes with no slur from the copious amount of drinks she has had to be heard in her voice.

“Karaoke? I’m not familiar with that term, so what is the function of this … thing?” Ayeka turns to Ryoko who has just jumped out of her seat to land next to the princess obviously excited about the prospect of finally getting to try out her little toy.

“The man at the shop said it plays music and shows lyrics to the song on the screen allowing you to sing along. Sounds like fun.” Ryoko bends down to look at the control panel for the Karaoke machine.

“But have you heard any Earth music? Can you read or understand the lyrics … better yet do you know how to work that thing at all?” Ayeka goes to sit down seeing it is useless as Ryoko blankly stares at all the many buttons and dials trying to decipher which one would turn it on.

With his hands firmly placed on the mottled green insectoid exoskeleton Vegeta charges up ki into his hands and fires. Having always wanted a chance at Cell in his perfect form after Gohan saved his life from him, a smug sense of satisfaction rolls over him as he descends back down from super Saiyan two form and leaves the training room wiping the sweat from his face with a towel. Lowering the towel from his face and placing it over his shoulder he looks across the room at the two women who turn their heads to look at him. Seeing no need to stay there he goes to move on out of the room to grab a bite to eat when Ryoko phases in front of him with a sad look in her eyes.

“Vegeta please help me, I’m so BORED!” Ryoko looks at him with puppy dog eyes wanting him to solve all her problems, his disinterest is clear.

“Go and entertain yourself in whatever way you see fit as long as it doesn’t bother me.” He steps to the side to get past her but she steps to the same side blocking his path.

“But Vegeta I can’t get my Karaoke machine to work, I can’t read the instructions.” She points to the large black metal box with one hand as the other starts to stroke his still sweaty chest. Seeing that he would get no peace unless he gave her something to occupy herself with, Vegeta lets out a long exhalation before heading over to the Karaoke machine. Approaching it he sees that Washu must have wired it in earlier and then points to the large switch with the word ON written next to it and presses it explaining what a few of the other less complex buttons do. An overjoyed Ryoko pounces back by the machine and slowly starts pressing some buttons as Vegeta turns to leave the room, out of the corner of his eye he notices that Ayeka was paying close attention to what he was saying as well.

Before he can take more than four steps a blaring power chord of a guitar is boomed out followed by some brutal and fast galloping riffs. Proving to be just her cup of tea Ryoko whoops and starts messing with the volume dial. The strong bass of the song starts shaking the floor and in a flurry Ayeka hurries from the room complaining about her absolute distaste in whatever genre of music that is. Wanting just a bit of peace and quiet Vegeta once again goes to Ryoko to tell her to turn it down but she misinterprets his approach and springs up with a microphone in her hand holding it out to him.

With happy and hopeful eyes she beams at him. He looks down at the microphone then back at Ryoko before just turning around and walking out of the room leaving Ryoko on her own. Looking upset and disappointed with her hopes downtrodden the space pirate goes to turn off the machine and eventually after several failed attempts locates the correct button and powers down the machine.

Finally making his way to the kitchen and with the goal of the fridge in his sight Vegeta stops when he sees the empty stare of Ayeka as she absently looks out of the kitchen window. Feeling the Saiyan pull towards food he then continues to the fridge and empties it of most of its contents before closing the door to look back at Ayeka who is now looking at him with the same pained expression of sadness she had when he comforted her.

“I had a brother once. Tarble was his name, he was a pathetic skinny runt and no good at fighting. Of course he died along with the rest of my race when Frieza blew up my planet so I’m not the best person for giving advice on family issues. I don’t presume to know about your species’ culture but you are a woman of royal blood. Just because others can’t get along is no excuse for you to be forced to stoop that low. It’s a matter of pride.” In between mouthfuls Vegeta says this to her knowing it isn’t the best thing to say, it isn’t what she needs to hear but it’s the only thing he could say. She weakly smiles at him as he continues gorging himself and walks over to Sasami who is also in the kitchen and busy setting about the final preparations for dinner and glancing disapprovingly at Vegeta scoffing his face right before her meal. Vegeta continues to stay in the kitchen waiting patiently for more food to become available for him to consume and is sat down at his place at the head of the table the moment that the table has been set and dinner served.

With Ryoko on one side of him and Ayeka on the other Vegeta digs greedily into the food that Sasami has cooked for them today and with a flicker a seventh place at the table suddenly is set. A weary Washu slowly emerges from her lab rubbing her eyes, drawn by the scent of sustenance when the front door crashes open and two young super Saiyans fly past her.

“ Ah! What are you trying to do, give me heart failure?!” She shouts at the two Aryan lads catching their breath and sitting down next to Sasami.

“No fair Trunks you cheated! You set off before I said go.” Goten complains to his best friend, completely oblivious to the irate Washu entering the kitchen and taking her place at the table whilst shooting evils at them. The women have learned by now to grab what food they can quickly while it lasts as Saiyans don’t mess around when it comes to filling their stomachs.

“Itsh not my phfault hat your too shlow.” Talking with his mouth full Trunks’ silences the loser of their race home before chowing down again. All of Sasami’s care and effort she put into making her food appear neat and presentable are ignored as plate after plate are devoured by the ever hungry Saiyans. Letting out a little sigh of resignation Sasami looks at the two half-pints eagerly wolfing down what she toiled over a hot stove for. Giving up there being any chance of being thanked or at the very least acknowledged for her culinary skills she listlessly sets her cutlery on her cleared plate to begin clearing away.

“Uh it’s Sasami right? Why don’t I take that for you? After all you did cook us such a yummy meal, much better than mom …. Wait please don’t tell her I said that!” Goten stands up taking Sasami’s plate from her hands and stacking it on top of his own before depositing it in the sink. A girlish and tender smile graces Sasami’s faces as she watches the two boys hurry off down the hallway.

“Trunks! If you are going to play at least go and do it in the training room. You can show Goten the new capabilities of it.” After barking to the two trouble makers he continues feasting on the scraps and leftovers.

“So Vegeta, it was Bulma’s family who invented this capsule technology? It is quite admirable work, a bit shoddy in a few places – well compared to what I could have done at least. You don’t keep any of the schematics and blueprints that were used around here do you?” Not batting an eyelid at the mention of his lost love Vegeta still carves his way through the last virgin dish on the table before relaxing back in his chair and shaking his head.

“Fair do’s, I like a challenge anyhow so be seeing you later, got to get cracking on this.” With suspicion in his eyes Vegeta tracks Washu as she disappears off, distrustful of what she does in her little hidey hole. A slight tap on his bicep draws his attention.

“I – I knew or suspected that you had probably been responsible for … wiping out Juraian colonies but – but I know that you were a different person back then. Technically those crimes were committed by a different person for who was responsible was killed on Namek. … What I’m trying to say is … I forgive you. So please … have this Yakitori from my plate as a show of goodwill.” The humble modesty of Ayeka astounds Vegeta. The offer of food is tempting as ever but it was the other commodity she offered him that he is reluctant to take. Forgiveness. Never has he been forgiven for his past actions. Never has he asked for it and never has he deserved to be forgiven. The honesty and purity in her eyes cause a great conflict within him. He cannot accept what isn’t rightfully his, he dare not pass up on something he probably will never receive again and he really, really wants the food.

“Why would you want her food when you can have mine? Look oo an ake it right out o my mouf.” Leaning close to him the woman on the other side of him has what appears to be most of a Tonkatsu being offered to him from her lips. Beseeching eyes looking at him imploring and pleading from both directions and the heady aroma of the foods teases his nostrils, he takes an escape route. The table clears, the dishes and utensils are cleaned and put neatly away in a flash but most of all the both women are left looking at each other as the man who was in-between them is now sat outside contently munching on the gifted morsels of food.

Licking his lips he catapults himself to the brim of the lake landing on his left hand. The tendons and muscles in his arm grow taught then relax as he rises and descends, counting each push up in his head silently, the repetition lulls and soothes him. From his upside-down view of the world the unmistakable sight of the women appearing from his house so soon pauses his extended arm.

Coiling like a python he releases the built up tension in his arm to pitch himself many lofty metres into the afternoon sky. Gyrating and somersaulting his body like a drill a flash of brilliant purple jets out towards the house. Blazing past the side of Ryoko on the rooftop the blast continues to rip across the sky for two miles before it hits its designated target. The pterosaur died before it knew it was being attacked as nothing but its ashes and embers drift down on the wind. Thumping back into the turf on his right hand at the precise moment when the sound from the far off slaying of the winged reptile reaches the shores of the lake.

Panicked, Ryoko quickly calms down after seeing a bolt of energy searing towards and past here. She gently bites her lip. ‘He must have done it.’ She thinks to herself. For only the briefest of instants she felt him brushing against her lips. It felt more like the gentle touch of a feather than what her hopes and dreams vividly imagine what he did. Fawningly she stays at her post on top of the house with her head held in her hands, a rosy colour to her cheeks and just sits there watching him, imagining the kiss they shared. Vegeta actually just grabbed it with his hand unbeknown to her.

The Sun continues its fiery path across the sky and disappears behind the soaring peaks plunging Vegeta into gloom. Goten left hours ago for he knows his mum would disapprove of him flying home in the dark. From the roof Ryoko watches with her cat like eyes beginning to glisten and reflect light in weird hues. In the comfort of the warm house Ayeka is sat down by the window also following his every move. A chill night wind ruffles Ryoko’s spiky hair into her face obscuring her view of the perpetual quester for enhancement. Shaking her head to bring back the sight of him as the stoic man eases himself back onto his feet, strolling back towards his hearth and home.

Following the well worn down dirt path that leads back from the lake to his doorstep Vegeta glances back to the slates on his roof then the doorway as he accurately predicts and tracks Ryoko’s phasing. With a burst of unseeable haste he beats Ryoko to her destination even though she was halfway through teleporting. Ayeka comes round into the hallway and happily smiles in greeting at Vegeta, with Ryoko looking dumbfounded as to how he got behind her. Ryoko fades into existence in front of him and next to Ayeka, a swift glare is exchanged between the two women.

“Has that mad scientist woman come out of her lab yet? I have need of her and would not like to catch her skulking around my house tampering with things better left undisturbed.” The quick shake of both women’s heads is all he needs to know, although he didn’t really need Ryoko’s input saying she wasn’t even in the house to keep an eye on Washu. Passing the women he turns the doorknob that leads down the rabbit hole and to the world of Washu, entering it alone. The large white entrance hall is deserted, Washu is not on her flying cushion and Vegeta has no time to search her whole warren of corridors and rooms. Placing two fingers on his temple he concentrates on the only other ki signature in this dimension.

“ I presume this place has the ability to manufacture goods?” Washu jumps out of her skin when the deep monotone voice of Vegeta echoes from directly behind her.

“GAH! Stop doing that! Of course my lab can make things, why do you ask?” Tidying up her notes and dismissing her shadowy laptop she turns and looks at him in a very displeased mood at this surprise.

“We may have need of your services and equipment soon. A far off and distant power has been sensed by me and probably the other fighters of this planet. It might be just a new life form but it is already outmatching Dr. Gero’s androids in term of sheer power and it has the same feel to it as Buu did. Make me more Saiyan battle armour.”

“A new foe? Well I suppose it’s nothing to worry about, sure I can make that armour of mi – yours. Hell I could even improve its durability and resistance tenfold without even trying.” Satisfied by Washu’s response and willingness to help his preparation for the coming storm he leaves her to whatever she was doing before he interrupted her.

Leaving her dimension he is not at all surprised to see both Ryoko and Ayeka still stood by the door where he left them. As they step towards him their elbows nudge each other. Sparks fly as they lock eyes and horns with each other. Wondering why it had to be him Vegeta watches as the two women wrestle against each other, pulling each others cheeks and hair and slapping each other. Their faces warped in hatred.

“Look you two, if you are so keen on fighting you had better learn to fight a lot better than that and quickly.” His words ring on deaf ears as they continue to struggle against each other. Wafting his hand the gust generated knocks them off of their feet and ends the fight before the nails and claws come out. As they look at him from the floor he walks the short distance to the training room.

“I have no need of your petty squabbles, see you tomorrow.”

Stretching his arms to warm his body up before another arduous day of training and spreading ki throughout his body to counteract all the cramps, pain and muscle fatigue he lumbers down the stairs. Halfway down the stairs something ruffles his rigid hair and he looks up to confirm the sensed ki signature with his suspicions.

An arm dangling from one of the support beams. An arm attached to a peacefully napping Ryoko wearing a vivid red dress and black sash around her waist, complementing her figure superbly. Her faint breathing permeates the air as her elfin ears twitch and move in the throes of a dream. Curious about her unusual sleeping habits, Vegeta pulls himself up onto the beam by her feet. Observing her rapid eye movement under closed lids, her fingers curling and uncurling and inaudible moans and words escaping from her mouth.

“Uhh …mmm. . V-Ve –.” Clearing his throat he silences her mumbling. Violently she rolls to one side and wakes with a start landing in Vegeta’s arms.

“Pleasant dream?” Still startled from the shock of falling, Ryoko drowsily opens her eyes to find herself in the macho arms of who she was just fantasising about. Yawning she closes her eyes again and relaxes with Vegeta looking down at her.

“Come and join me napping if you like, I’m sure we can find enough room up there for the both of us … if not we could always go to your bed.”

“I have no time for such laziness. If you want to waste all your time sleeping and throwing away your potential as a space pirate that’s fine by me.” With that he gently as he can throws her into the air and out of his arms before continuing to the training room. A loud disappointed sigh from the floating Ryoko goes unheeded.

Sipping a nice steaming mug of herbal tea on the sofa Ayeka looks and smiles at her prince … who completely ignores her keeping his focus solely on his destination. As soon as the thick metal slab slides back on its hinges and the reverberating sound of its lock rings through the living room Ayeka nearly spills her hot beverage in the process of grabbing the TV remote.

“Why so eager princess? Do you enjoy peeping on him that much?” Masking the sound of her teleportation by that of the TV Ryoko is now sat next to Ayeka with an eyebrow raised at her insinuatingly.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, I have no interest whatsoever in … peeping.” Giving the cold shoulder to Ryoko both women turn to watch as best they can what Vegeta is doing on the display.

A gargantuan red haired green orcish beast with a long jagged scar down his barrel-like chest and a monstrously tall bulky Saiyan with green tinted hair spawn into existence. Bojack and Broly. Deciding only to go to the first form of super Saiyan, Vegeta stands dwarfed before them. Today on the agenda for Vegeta is practising and learning the secret techniques that he has witnessed other fighters perform so he can add them to his wide arsenal at his disposal. Once he begins his sadism takes over.

An hour or so passes as do many of the incarnated sprites of his training dummies, each felled by a unique attack. One decapitated by a destructo-disk, two bodies lay with a large hole drilled straight through them by a special beam cannon another beaten into a mushy pulp on the floor after Vegeta finally mastered the Kaioken – the same technique he has long since hated for the part it played in his downfall from being the strongest Saiyan. Many annihilated antagonists lay still before him, the bodies beginning to pile up and the floor slick with blood and other fluids seeping from the corpses.

“Solar flare!” Both women and hulking opponents eyes are overloaded by a brilliant pure white light emanating from the already glowing super Saiyan. Bringing his spread fingers back down from his forehead and raising them like claws he nimbly sprints towards both dazed opponents clutching at their eyes.

“Wolf fang fist!” A ghostly apparition of a savage black wolf with red eyes lit with the very fires of hell overlays itself onto the howling Saiyan as a hundred hammering blows ravage Bojack in an instant. All his bones and vital organs pulverised in the instant death takes him. Broly blinks away the dazzling light and through his burnt retinas takes his last sight. Vegeta mid leap with a rabid glare in his eyes with his hands forming the gaping jaws of deliverance.

Landing crouched Vegeta stands up with a displeased look of distaste at the ease of what he has done. To the women less than a second has passed and after their vision has cleared enough to look back at the screen Vegeta has turned up the gravity in the training room and doing bench presses, next to two fresh corpses. One so badly disfigured and bloody that it is no longer recognisable as humanoid – never mind Bojack – and Broly collapsing to his knees. Cold and quickly numbing fingers weakly grasping at the human sized hole through his massive bulk before finally giving up the ghost and fading away into nonexistence with the rest of Vegeta’s little mess.

The tedium of Vegeta’s seemingly infinite capacity for exercise eventually dissuades the women from continuing to watch him, despite his skin tight Saiyan jumpsuit clinging to his body from perspiration and highlighting the curvature of his heightened musculature. What Vegeta also fails to notice is that, with that being his preferred item of clothing, it doesn’t leave much to the imagination of the women in his house – styling a Linford Christie lunch box.

Ryoko hovers back to the wooden beam she has claimed and takes another cat nap leaving Ayeka milling around the house with nothing to do. Wandering around the house aimlessly the purple haired highborn of Jurai finds company in the lavender haired child of Vegeta. Trunks is gnawing on one end of a stubby pencil and looking stumped at the worksheet before him, although gifted with the intelligence of his mother he just can’t work out the answer to this question. Seeing the look of confusion on his face Ayeka tries to be a good Samaritan and offers to help the struggling lad with his schoolwork.

“You’ll help me? Great! Although I would prefer it if it were Washu helping, she’s a lot smarter than you are …” Trying furiously to stifle her anger at the insult Ayeka continues to smile at Trunks, although it is now forced.

“Here take a look, oh wait you can’t read sorry. I guess I’ll read it to you then: In the year 461 what was the mythical Piccolo war and how was it stopped?” The smile fades from Ayeka’s face. A history question, she might recognise the name Piccolo but apart from that the few days she has spent on this planet are hardly enough for her to be able to answer that question.

“I-I’m sure your father will know the answer to it, you just keep on working hard.” With that she leaves the child to his questions with a slight twitch in her eye at the insolence of him, dead sure he did that on purpose to irk her.

Sparks fly and throw shadows across the dimly lit room, illuminating the dark tiled recess of the lab. A bright blue flame lowers and superheats a small metal wire, welding it in place. Giggling at her ingenuity, Washu mans the controls of the robotic arms and manoeuvres them as delicately as a surgeon performing an operation as her little toy she is making begins to take shape.

“Lunch is ready!” The chirpy voice of the gastronomic genius damsel draws forth the training Saiyan. Calmly walking into the kitchen in the same state that he left the training room he takes his seat. A small puddle of sweat pools around him on the floor mixed with a few bright drops of a sanguine fluid. As Ayeka wanders to the call of her sister she gasps when she sees Vegeta and hurries to his side.

“Oh Vegeta, you’re hurt. You can’t just sit here looking like that.” He slowly turns his head so he can see her out of his good eye, for one is now badly bleeding and closed behind layers of coagulated gore. Trickles of crimson are all over his body, dark gore spattered all over his clothing and deep gashes rake his back and arms. Not one part of him is without injury or damage.

“Tis but a scratch.” With that he reaches across the table to grab some of the delectable sandwiches piled up on one of the plates. Sasami gapes in horror as his dirty hands contaminate her food, then she nearly faints as his still bleeding arm drips onto all nearby dishes.

“A scratch? You look as though you are on death’s door itself, please get those wounds treated I wouldn’t want you to get a nasty infection.”

“I’ve had worse.” Continuing to stuff his face he hardly seems to care or notice when Ryoko’s head pops through the table then disappears, reappearing fully on the other side of Vegeta.

“See, this is what happens when you reject my offer. Would you like me to kiss it better?” With Ryoko’s tantalising and sensual lips rapidly approaching him and disturbing him from his food his image flickers and in one hand he holds a small green bean. He eats this senzu bean to quiet the women down not for his own wellbeing and scoops up the last few snacks on the table. Ryoko’s lips however are still encroaching on him as he forgets that the speed of his actions means that both women’s brains haven’t processed that he is once again in peak physical condition with all injuries gone.

He stands in the doorway with his gloved hands on his hips, Sasami who was about to clean up skips past him when she sees that once more Vegeta has tidied away and washed up in the bat of an eye.

“Ryoko, Ayeka. Outside, now.” The faint afterimage of Vegeta dissipates. Mystified by this most unusual of requests the two ladies look at each with puzzled expressions, their minds having adapted to living with this hypersonic presence known as Vegeta. The intentions of Ryoko to get to this meeting before her are all too predictable for the highly educated princess. In the nanosecond that the air around Ryoko starts to vibrate her dainty hand lashes out and grabs her wrist forcing Ryoko to teleport her as well. If only she had known what she had gotten herself into.

Re-entering existence only fifteen metres from where they departed, Ayeka tears her hand away from Ryoko and clutches at her heaving stomach. First time teleporting is always nasty business and takes a while of getting used to. Nearly doubling over in pain and swallowing down the bile that had risen in her throat Ayeka looks weakly back up.

Having left Ayeka to sort herself out Ryoko is by Vegeta, 50 feet up in the air above the lake, both looking down at her. Slowly lifting from the ground and traversing through the air she joins them. Surveying the two femme fatales; the pale face of the still queasy Juraian blue-blood and the devilish smile of the expectant galactic buccaneer, he begins.

“I’ve gathered you here for a certain reason, there has been something niggling at me since I woke up. I thought about keeping it to myself but, no … I will declare it now …” His face as dark and cut off from emotion as always he pauses for a second summoning courage for what he is about to say. Both levitating women have perked up immensely at these words with their faces shining in optimism at the prospect of their deepest desire being granted.

“… I … I-I want, I would like …” Stammering under the immensity of what he is about to say both women fly and lean closer to him, daring not to breathe or else it will spoil this most precious of moments. “… Teach me. I need to know your techniques, both of you are women of power – mere insects to me – but powerful in your own way. Help me train.” With their hopes crushed and dreams dashed to the four winds the two devastated women hide their great and utter disappointment in his request.

“I’m not asking for any charity, you teach me your special skill and I will teach you one of mine. Ayeka, you have demonstrated the feat of being able to channel a huge proportion of your energy into forming a barrier of either protection or containment – that is what I would like to learn from you. Ryoko, you have the ability to make your physical body non-corporeal this I would find to be most useful.” Still with blank, despondent and mournful eyes looking at him he elects to spark a little life back in them. The torn and battered soles of his bloodied boots land back on the shoreline.

“What say you? Who wants to go first?” Right on cue the announcement brings the women to their normal selves. The rivalry between those two women foreshadows that even of Vegeta’s to Goku and trouble begins to brew. Toying with them is such an easy thing, God how he wishes Bulma was that easy to manipulate. The simple pleasures of life pass him by but a good cat fight between those two never ceases to amuse him. Like a fledgling sparrow versus a hawk, Ayeka loses any advantage over Ryoko she had in the aerial combat and is swept aside. Shoved away with her concentration broken, the deep water looms welcoming her.

Cancelling out gravity as her luxurious ponytails dip into the water a wave of disturbed water splashes over her. Drenched to the bone, the pits of hell and damnation themselves look more welcoming than the furious wrath awoken within the aristocrat. Giddy on behalf of her little victory over the snobby princess Ryoko skims across the water, splashing water high in her wake.

“Me first, me first. Me!” Slamming into Vegeta she swings around his neck to hug him from behind, delight and jubilance sparkling from her ravishing eyes. Snuggling and nuzzling his face with hers, a cold shiver shoots down Vegeta’s spine. Drifting his eyes from Ryoko to the soaked and dripping princess’ stabbing stare of malice seething with both freezing unpitying hate and the roaring emerald flames of envy. Averting his eyes from her in her disgraced sodden state he concedes and nods at Ryoko, replying with a squeal of unbridled joy and the warmth of her bosom squishing between his broad shoulders.

“Very well then Ryoko, what would you like in exchange for this knowledge?” Regretting his poor choice of words as soon as they leave his mouth a suggestive smirk takes over Ryoko’s face.

“Oh I’m sure I can think of a little something you could do to-I mean for me.”

“Ryoko, what you are thinking about are techniques and skills that have nothing to do with the field of battle. It’s out of the question, I will certainly not demonstrate them to you. Come now, you already can fly, teleport and shoot basic bolts of energy I’m sure you can think of something that the feared Ryoko could use to spread her infamy across the universe.” Let down by his mind being set against showing her his other kind of prowess her mind scans the past few days she has spent in his company, trying to pinpoint the one thing she could use against him.

“Ok, how about that thing where you can always tell whether I’m near you or not.”

“The ability to sense power levels and ki signatures? Fine, so be it. Begin, show me this skill of yours.” Reluctantly Ryoko slowly lets go of Vegeta and manoeuvres herself so she is stood in front of him. Having taught herself this a long time ago it’s not that difficult for her to explain the complexities of this technique and the way in which you have to flow the ki through your body. She demonstrates to him phasing through part of his house and then it is time for Vegeta to try and master it.

Raising his left hand he gradually edges it closer and closer towards the wall of his house channelling energy into his palm, fingers and wrist. CLUNK. The tattered rags of his filthy glove impacts the floor. Looking from his hand to the glove and back at his hand, he groans at the obvious intentions of Ryoko.

“I don’t recall your clothes falling off every time you fly through a wall, it’s as though you taught me the wrong way so that mine would. … Now tell me the right way or else I’ll show you how my fist goes through your guts.” Her wicked smile timidly fades away, thwarted yet again this time she teaches him the proper way to phase through solid objects so that undressing isn’t a prerequisite. As he sinks through the terrain and bobs up again the proud instructor applauds her first pupil.

“You’ve upheld your end of the bargain and I shall do the same and train you in the ways of detecting the life force of others.” They stand close to each other, less than a foot apart. His eyes never leave her face. Witnessing all this from not to far away Ayeka continues to glower, the blazing inferno of scorn having long since dried her off. They might not notice her but she sees them. One of these days, she thinks to herself, I will have my rightful place at his side. However, all she can do at the minute is project nasty thoughts at the she-demon and watch her tail wag like an excitable puppy.

“Are you ready? Or is that temper of yours getting the better of you again?” Her slight perturbance by his sudden proximity to her is overshadowed by the grudge she is still holding on to. The musky and tangy odour of the man behind her mixes with the fair and aromatic smell of what perfume was not washed off her. With predatory precision she keeps an eye on her nemesis whilst the voluptuous rogue lifts off to bask in the glorious midday Sun on the sloping roof. Not lightening her mood in the slightest she curtly turns and nods at Vegeta, raising a shimmering cerulean sphere around herself. Her arms raised before her, the near transparent globe wavers and continually flickers.

“Honestly, I expected more from you. Is this truly all the power of Ayeka the princess of Jurai? Now Ryoko on the other hand …” Her glare intensifies under his derision and jeering, if he were but a mere mortal this gorgon-like gaze would have petrified him and crumbled all other men to dust. The energy shield glows azure and starts to crackle into power, bolts shoot out from it, the princess can hardly be made out through this encapsulating barrier. Vegeta steps through the shield, it bursts like a bubble as twinkling shards of the brightest blue fizzle down.

“ I actually felt a slight tingle walking through that, I congratulate you on your fine efforts but please, stop with all this nonsense now. Goading your anger seems to be the only way to get you to do anything.” Her flames of emotion die down to embers, always there and ready to be stoked back to life at any given time, seeing that he didn’t mean those mean words she softens. Staying mad towards Vegeta is not something she would ever be capable of, him stood there so close to him yet his heart so distant and far. Lowering her arms and hugging them close to herself the tedious task of explaining how it is done starts.

Taking mental notes he easily takes in all the relevant information and permanently locks it deep within his brain. Nothing as radical as cancelling out the physical properties of his body he feels confident in experimenting to see whether he can form a defensive shield around himself. The air hisses and crackles with static discharge from the building energy. The energy starts to solidify in patches then rips itself apart. Frowning Vegeta tries again and with a blinding flash a dark violet hemisphere form0073 above his raven hair as it slowly descends and the base seals to the ground scorching the grass.

“Two tries? It took me that many years to make even the most basic rudimentary barrier. A most remarkable achievement my Prince, I am so proud of you.” The pride is showing on his face, two techniques in nearly that many minutes, a bold grin of confidence. Lowering his hands the shield remains stabilised and continues humming. With a violent swish of his hand the shield coalesces into a ball and is jettisoned off over the horizon.

“I thank you Ayeka for those kind words, now to the matter of your payment – what’s it going to be?” A second sun appears and disappears in the far off distance shining light on the chirpy smile of Ayeka.

“You’ve already done so much for me and my sister I would hate to impose. If it’s not too much of a bother I would enjoy a few more lessons on flying.” Her radiant beauty and peaceful soul soothe Vegeta who nods at her smiling in agreement. Before the two can take to the skies the scientific virtuoso Washu runs out of the house with something hidden in her hands. Stopping in front of Vegeta she opens her hands revealing her device she has secretly been working on.

So many old memories are brought back to the warrior. The times he spent with his other Saiyan comrades obliterating all in his path; killing, burning, annihilating, exterminating and enjoying every minute of it. A reminder of his days before Earth, before humility. He takes the offered device and clips the small eyepiece onto his ear. The red glass covering his left eye begins to flicker numbers on its heads-up-display as it turns itself on. Clicking the small button on the top of the main body of the scouter its sensors begin to locate the two women stood in front of him and analyse them.

“The greatest genius in the universe has a power level of … 9, as to be expected. The might of the daughter of Jurai is 263 … Ryoko!” Ayeka seems quite pleased with a triple digit score, that is until the intergalactic brigand appears stood next to her and hears her power level. “…Ryoko your power level is 378… ” Seeing the relic from the days of her servitude to the tyrant Frieza does not bring as many good memories as it does for the elite class fighter. The embers in Ayeka are stirred by the bellows of Ryoko’s higher score. “… and Ayeka’s has jumped up to a new high of 332.”.

With the arguing between the women reaching inevitability, a fuzz ball of cute brown fur hops into sight followed by the smaller princess of Jurai chasing after the scampering critter. For the hell of it he scans both of them, Sasami getting a good 32 and Ryo-ohki getting …

“1,500. Ryo-ohki has a power level of 1,500, Raditz would die again if he saw this, oh this is priceless, ha.” The women stare at the cabbit in alarm as Vegeta chuckles to himself at this turn of events chucking the scouter back to Washu.

“Over 1,000! There’s no way that’s right, such a small animal can’t have more power than me. Washu obviously must have built that thing wrong.” Ayeka cannot and will not accept this. The owner of the spaceship picks her up and coos at her little pet, both purring contently. With the adversaries in the field of love distracted Washu equips the scouter whilst Vegeta flies out over the lake. With great anticipation Washu clicks the one and only button on her old invention she has radically improved, its capabilities enhanced so maybe it could give an accurate reading on Vegeta. Her jaw drops.

“ 54.” The surprise on Ayeka and Ryoko’s faces is all too plain to see as Washu continues to click the button to see if it would yield a more likely number.

“So 54 is as low as I can possibly go, first time on Earth was when disguising or suppressing power levels was first brought to my attention. It proved most valuable on Namek, now bear witness to what a true Saiyan is capable of.”. A strong gust of wind blows and encircles him before blasting outwards. His body begins to glow faintly as he calmly looks down at the women. The numbers on Washu’s scouter suddenly change.

“ 7-70,000?! Wait no it’s still rising, 150,000 … 300,000. I-it’s going too fast I can’t read it!” As his power exponential increases and grows the lake beneath him starts to form a concave shape, like Moses all the water is being repelled from his proximity. The wind dies down and the lake calms itself, a faint splash can be heard as a pebble falls into the lake.

“ 6,500,000. Th-that’s not possible! Even stars don’t output that much power -” Washu and the women gape at this incredulous figure and a smirk plays across Vegeta’s face for in one fell swoop he erupts in gold. His blonde locks flowing past his waist, Neanderthal like thickset brow and heavenly aura he awaits a final verdict of his power.

“ 11 digits … his power level has 11 digits. 19,680,008,002. Not- not possible, can’t be …” Tripping over her own tongue in disbelief at the raw power shown before her Washu falls to her knees with the scouter bleeping rapidly still, her mind reeling at this most inexplicable data she has gathered. Dropping back down to his everyday life level of power and the green Earth he strides past the astonished women. With a puff of smoke the scouter detonates itself, all its core wiring fried, its insides blackened and Washu’s ear thankfully unhurt.

“W-wait! Prince Vegeta! Have you forgotten your promise, you still haven’t given me more flying lessons.” Snapping out of her daze just before he disappears into his house and leaves her, he disappears to be stood back in front of the women again with Washu slowly picking herself up off of the dirty floor.

“What do you need me for? You know how to fly all you have to do now is to practise and practise with someone closer to your ability level.” His eyes drift from the princess in light blue robes to the reprobate in the tight red dress. Ryoko looks back into the dreamy eyes of Vegeta then follows his eyes back to the other woman.

“NO!” Both Ryoko and Ayeka exclaim in perfect synchronisation, turning to face away from each other and folding their arms in stubbornness.

“Why should I do it? It’s not like I need any practise at flying, I’ve been doing it for years.” Ryoko moves her hands to her hips whilst protesting against Vegeta’s decision.

“Is that what you think? Tell me, out of all those times you have flown how many times have you landed or navigated without the aid of teleportation or phasing? Simply put you can fly, but fly like a wren when you could be a falcon with just some effort and motivation from you. This is not a request, you have no choice in the matter; either do it or next time Jurai calls round you won’t be so lucky. Got it?” There is no negotiation to be had. Accepting their fate but not liking it in the slightest. Grumbling, the two lift off and begin to put some distance between them and the ground.

“No misbehaving Ryoko!” Vegeta shouts at her, her toothy grin shrinks for he knows her all too well. Itching from a physical need to train Vegeta walks up to Washu on his way to soothe his craving.

“How long do you predict it will be until they start to fi – GOD DAMMIT!” With the words still leaving his mouth he sees the two women tumbling out of the sky firmly locked in battle with one another. He can’t take his eyes off of them for a second and not for the reasons that the women would want. Ayeka truly should have learnt that she stands no chance in the air against Ryoko but credit to her determination and for trying. Sighing to himself as they swan dive towards the jagged cliff face they had flown towards he traverses the mile or so in nanoseconds, leaving behind a smiling Washu dashing off back to her lab with hairs she had just plucked from him.

Grappling and tumbling on their way to the unyielding ground, oblivious to all except for the bane of their lives, a shadow falls from the sky. All their downwards momentum ceases as they are held in the air from the scruff of their necks by a very annoyed and growling Saiyan. Not even with Vegeta in the picture do they forget their feud against the other and struggle and writhe to set themselves loose and unleash their animosity in violence. Their feeble efforts mean nothing to him as he outstretches his arms so that they can no longer reach each other and he slowly descends flying downwards.

He doesn’t take them back to the house instead he decides to cool them off, he finds that a cold shower is a good way to purge unwanted emotions so off to the lake he flies. Only as their shoes begin to take in the chilly waters of the lake do they see the predicament they are in as he pays no attention to what they say. They plead and beg for him to release him as he rotates his body so it lies horizontal not wanting to take an early bath himself and commences the dunking.

Gasping for breath and with her wet fringe plastered to her forehead and Ryoko’s spiky hair flattened by the weight of the water he lets go of the two water-logged vixens. Dripping wet for the second time today Ayeka is not pleased, not in the slightest bit. Steam explodes from both of them as the water boils straight off of their energy charged bodies.

“What did I tell you? You damn fools, now stop acting like bitches in heat. Act up again and I will hold you down there until I am thoroughly sure you will cause no more trouble again. You should be thankful I am so merciful or else I would have blasted you to smithereens days ago. Off with you!” Zooming off he leaves the two quarrellers. Exchanging the briefest of glances they fly off into the skies with not so much as a word between the two.

The well worn down and smoothed floorboards of his house greet Vegeta with a squeak as his footsteps echo through the hall and into the living room. Lounged across the sofa with a sleeping Ryo-ohki dozing in the parting between her two side ponytails is Sasami. Her pink eyes staring into space with the sure signs of ennui don’t even register the new person in the room until he stands towering over her.

“ You seem a little down in the dumps, you didn’t have much say in the matter of staying here yesterday so … how are you settling in?” Adopting the manner of the courteous host he thinks of himself as she blinks clearing her eyes before sitting up properly. Poor Ryo-ohki has to think fast and lands on all four feet after losing her sleeping post when Sasami moved and darts off elsewhere in the house.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. As long as I’m with my big sister I don’t care if we’re on a different planet, I’m used to travelling a lot. But there’s nothing to do here, I’m bored.”

“ Trunks has plenty of toys and the like, surely that should suffice-.”

“They’re all boys toys though.” He ponders upon this, this is a problem worthy of his time. She cooks him food, lots of food, very tasty food therefore she must be accommodated for properly. There is only one place he can think of where he might find the solution to her boredom.

The quiet roar of the waves lapping on the small tropical island greets him as he Instant Transmissions in the shade of a swaying palm tree. Just the man he was looking for is busy on the beach having a light sparring session with his stunning blonde wife.

“Hey, pipsqueak!” He announces his arrival whilst marching towards one of the few fighters that he can naturally look down on. Looking up from his training he smiles and waves at his old comrade.

“Oh hey Vegeta, what brings you here?” The smaller man runs his hand through his short black hair and wipes the sweat from his face. The loose fitting gi of the House of turtle students seems a little bit worse for wear as Krillin is nowhere near the league at which his wife can fight and so normally suffers a bit more during these little bouts.

“I have a question for you, concerning your daughter … Marron I think. Well you see the problem is Sasami, the younger sister of one of the women staying with me, appears dissatisfied with the amount of enrichment available ….” Trying to get this over as quickly as he can to spare himself the humility of his actions he just hopes Krillin picks up on what he is getting at.

“Ah, I see. Kids, what are they like? They always need something to do but I’m not the person you need to be talking to. 18 deals with all that stuff, only children I ever really knew were Goku and Gohan so when it comes to girls I have no idea what they like.” Thanking the Kais that the human understood, he wanders across the fine pale sands to Krillin’s wife. She feigns not hearing him and doesn’t acknowledge his prescence instead focusing on the few sea birds floating on the surf.

“Look you oversized toaster, heed me now or suffer the consequences. I never did pay you back for that time you broke my arm so don’t test me.” His dislike of the half machine before him grows with each passing second as she continues to disregard him and his queries.

“Hey calm down now, I’m sure 18 will help you out, won’t you 18?” The strongest human alive tries to alleviate the situation hoping for his wife’s sake that she will acquiesce. With a snap the snarling prince disappears and badly frightens an otherwise preoccupied Roshi sat by his T.V with one of his ‘exercise’ videos playing. In the corner of the room in a world of her own messing with many assorted crayons and a colouring book little Marron is sat. Kneeling down beside the small blonde child a devilish smile splits his face ear to ear.

“Marron!” The parents of the child rush into Kame house fearing what Vegeta might do. He is too close, they can’t get there in time.

“So Marron I understand it’s your birthday soon. As a friend of the family I was wondering what you might like for me to get you as a present.” Krillin and 18 stop in their tracks, all their fears unfounded. Vegeta’s tact of getting the information straight from the horse’s mouth as it were proves to be a very effective one as the happy juvenile spills out a long list of toys and such. Remembering as many of these items and names as he can he stands up and walks to leave the house with 18 and Krillin parting to get out of his way.

A cascade of highly multi-coloured boxes and containers crash to the floor of the living room. The abrupt noise makes Sasami jump and then she notices the large pile left unattended on the floor. Getting up off the seat she moves to inspect it and her little childish heart bursts with joy and glee at the sight of so many different toys. Job done Vegeta starts another simulation in the training room, a battle with Hirudegarn at 500 times Earth’s gravity and dives into the fray.

Dusk falls on the surrounding landscape as dark amber hues cover the soon to be dark sky. Ryoko and Ayeka return back after several hours of flying with badly windswept hair. They don’t care though. They don’t care about anything except for resting now as they lumber exhausted into the living room with their feet dragging and collapse in a heap on the sofa next to each other. Falling asleep before their heads even touch the cushions the tired women rest.

Finally the great carapace before him explodes and one of the limbs of Hirudegarn comes crashing down beside him. More of the beast splatters about, many chunks of armour plating like hide narrowly missing Vegeta. Barging out of the training room gasping for breath in heaves and droves with even more holes, patches, rips and burn marks on his formally blue but now blackened jumpsuit. Copious amounts of blood flow onto the floor from the mighty savage gashes left in his body from the fight.

Out of thin air a senzu bean is now in his hand, swallowing it whole and undoing all the harm done to his body. Fully recovered he goes to have a well earned sit down on his couch but can’t for the two women sprawled across it. Surrendering the seat to them he fetches a blanket from his room and lays it across the sleeping ladies before heading outside. Sitting down cross legged by the black depths of the lake he closes his eyes and meditates whilst the world around him turns to blackest night.

“Oh come on quit being such a baby it’s only a few tests. I need to see what the data for a human-Saiyan hybrid is.” A very scared Trunks flees from the pursuing Washu. Easily able to outrun her but not wanting to just abandon the house he continues to run up the stairs, back down the stairs and around every room in the house from the manic cackles. She stops when he enters the vacated training room and turns on the artificial gravity. A shallow victory for him and a loud commotion for the tired Ryoko and Ayeka as they rouse themselves. Wearily they notice the blanket caringly draped over them. Looking out the wide window they see Vegeta alone in the darkness. Standing up Ryoko phases and Ayeka treads softly out of the room and house.

Contemplating and pondering with a cleared mind as peaceful as it ever will be, Vegeta sits in silence but no longer alone. Ryoko sat down on his right hand side and Ayeka on his left. Not opening his eyes he feels them looking at him, just looking and watching him. The minutes drift by as they enjoy the simple pleasure of being in his company, sitting next to him under the wide expanse of the stars above.

His right hand starts to glow a most brilliant pure white. With a throwing motion he releases it and it begins to hurtle high into the atmosphere. The power ball stops a few miles up then expands rapidly illuminating the lake like a flare. Opening his eyes Vegeta stares at the bright globe of his own personal ‘moon’, Ryoko and Ayeka’s gaze never left his face. Dropping his eyes to the reflections in the water before him he sees the two doppelgangers of the women by his side.

“The moon. It still holds a deep power over me and my Saiyan blood … even with the disgraceful loss of my tail. It calms me, soothes me, fills me with peace and tranquillity. When it used to call forth the beast within it now subdues it. I arrived on this planet an elite warrior of the high echelons of the most powerful military force ever seen. Now I am a father, a widow and constantly being outdone and outclassed by that clown Kakarot. My great Saiyan pride is withering. I don’t kill for sport or pleasure anymore. I spend all of my time cooped up inside training and training so that one day … one day I will finally regain my intended and rightful place as the superior warrior. Yet for 14, no 16 long years I have strived for that goal with everything I have, surpassing all of my limits and even death itself …still victory continues to forever elude me, always there just beyond my reach. Dancing ever close yet always snatched away, it’s probably what I deserve.”

Pouring out his heart and soul to the women their eyes begin to mist over. Their hearts both saddened by his tale yet elated that he is choosing to share his innermost thoughts and feelings with them. Lashing out with his fist in a burst the power ball in the night sky is torn asunder and blows up plunging the three sat down into night. His muscles tensing, teeth gritted and fists clenched he desperately tries to contain or control the ever present all consuming rage. With no hint of fear from this display in unison the women lean forwards and hug one of his Herculean arms each. Not shying away from their touch or hold he continues to stare into the now reflectionless lake.

Wanting to seize and make the most of the magical moment Ryoko and Ayeka lean close to him. He feels the warmth of their feminine bodies and every exhalation they make. The women’s eyes close as they lean ever closer still, slowly going to kiss him on the cheek. Vegeta cracks a smile. The full and moist lips of Ryoko meet the red and luscious lips of Ayeka. As they open their eyes to look into the eyes of their kisser they find that to their shock and horror Vegeta leaned backwards at the last moment. Violently pulling away from each other they sit on the grass turning a very deep shade of red. Ayeka rubs at her lips trying to remove any evidence of the deed she has just done whilst Ryoko just stares mortified.

“Well if that’s the way you two feel about one another I won’t get in your way, I’ll just leave you to it then.” Smirking he vanishes off into the night leaving the women extremely embarrassed and ashamed.

Cautiously she makes her way to the bathroom and goes inside after knocking to make sure she wouldn’t have to relive yesterday’s little bathroom faux pas. The bathing quarters appear empty yet with the other occupants of the household that means very little. It takes well over an hour for her to complete washing herself so that her skin is baby smooth and supple and her hair as sleek and lustrous as if it were a cascading waterfall of amaranthine falling down her gentle shoulders, all this she does not just for her morning ritual but in hope that her splendour will shine through to him.

Her breath rancid from last nights binge, Ryoko rolls out of her bed knocking over the two empty sake bottles by her. The chiming of the glass is like a banshee’s wail scraping through her mind as the room begins to spin and slip out of focus. Throbbing and pounding her mind reminds her what happens when you drink to excess. Quickly she silences the hangover with a rush of ki and phases out of her room and into the bathroom.

The one person she did not want to see, especially so early in the morning, by Sod’s law has to be the one she appears in front of. An awkward silence as they look at each other then silently walk on past one another with the princess leaving the bathroom wrapped in a velvety towel. Reminded of the dreaded thing Vegeta tricked them into doing in front of him Ryoko shudders.

Plunging her head in the cool waters to cleanse and purify her mouth from an ensuing bitter taste – or as close as can be for someone without taste buds. Refreshed she slips the rest of her body into the pool, taking as long as she possibly can cleaning her alluring body. Wishing that the champion of her heart would walk through those doors, get bewitched by just a glimpse of her enchanting, sensuous curves and be the one to scrub the tender skin of her back, maybe even a little bit more.

All traces of last nights boozing washed and sponged away, back in her room she puts on another of her new dresses to see whether this one would, with any luck, entice Vegeta more. A simple blue dyed cotton dress flowing to her feet with yellow stripes adorning her sleeves and below the burgundy cummerbund. Hardly having to think about it, Ryoko finishes off her outfit with her ‘tail’. Beyond any doubt in her mind she is positive that wearing this must in some small way appeal to his Saiyan nature and give her an edge over that damned Juraian.

Going straight through the floorboards Ryoko arrives next to Ayeka in the doorway to the kitchen. Only wanting to grab a light snack for breakfast both women look on at the scene before them bewildered, it wasn’t a T.V that woke Ayeka it turns out. 21 people – including Ryo-ohki – are crammed in the kitchen, some of them strangers they have not met before and so making it even weirder that they are just there in the house.

As expected Vegeta is at the head of the table with his son by his side wolfing down the hearty banquet of breakfast arrayed on the heaving table. Sasami has truly outdone herself managing to cook a fry-up breakfast for such a large amount of guests when some can eat enough food for a large family. Piles of sausages and crispy back bacon, mountains of chips and golden hash browns, steaming bowls of baked beans or fried tomatoes along with many other dishes with other fried food such as bread or eggs. The way a true breakfast should be.

Sasami is still frantically working in the kitchen along with the help of Chichi, who will not admit how amazed she is by this little girl’s cooking skills. For every dish cleared by the hungry Z warriors more are brought forth and laid on the table. Wary of such a large crowd of formidable fighters the women sit down on the two make-shift chairs remaining formed out of stacks of cushions and pillows.

They spot quite a few familiar faces. Chichi did not come alone of course so at the end of the table directly opposite the prince of their race sit Goku, Gohan and Goten – Gohan having also brought Videl with him and not wearing his ridiculous glasses. Father and sons are wearing the gi of the school of Turtle and Kai respectively, being careful in their feeding to snatch any crumbs out of the air and digest them part out of hunger and part to not spoil their bright orange clothing.

The head of the school of Turtle is also there in a black and white martial arts suit and his roving eyes hidden behind his signature green tinted shades. Roshi appears very out of place sat between Yamcha and Tien. The bald triclopsian showing off his sturdy scarred chest with a forest green gi covering only one shoulder and the scar faced bandit with a long unkempt mane and also wearing a gi honouring his tutorage under Roshi. Never to be without his best friend Tien, the incredibly short albino with rosy red cheeks Chiaotzu levitates beside his long time pal.

Krillin, the other fighter here of stunted growth, is with his wife and child along with the nomadic uncle of Marron, 17. A long brown leather duster, torn jeans, orange bandanna and perfectly straight jet black hair are the main differences between these two near identical brother and sister androids, save for their difference in gender. Finally there are the four fighters not eating or by the table. The two Namekians; Dende, now fully grown and only a bit shorter than the other of his species and Piccolo still wearing his cloak and turban as always. As Dende is the guardian of the planet and creator of the current set of dragonballs his faithful servant Mr. Popo is dutifully stood by his side trying not to look uncomfortable by the last guest of similar physique. Majin Buu.

Although purified of all evil from within him, the obese pink blob still is the least accepted member in the party of protectors of the Earth. It doesn’t help that he was separated from his pet dog and only friend Mr. Satan – who apparently has an extremely serious and real stomach ache that impairs his fighting so much he just couldn’t make it – putting the creation of Bibidi in a sullen and grumpy mood. The other Z warriors know how childlike he can be and don’t want to be anywhere near him if he decides to tantrum.

Only the Saiyans or children of Saiyans are the ones still breakfasting. All the humans and other assorted species have had their fill nearly an hour ago and are just catching up with one another, reminiscing over old times and battles fought long ago. Light conversation only just drowning out the sound of the diners fast approaching the final dish of food. One plate left, one last morsel of food left … a lone pork sausage stands alone between Goku and Vegeta. With their offspring pushing themselves away from the table with stomachs full to the point of bursting, the only pure blooded Saiyans lock eyes in a standoff.

“I suppose there’s only one way to settle this Kakarot …” His voice cuts through the chatter and plunges the room into a deadly silence, the tension building between prince and the one raised on Earth. All eyes focus on the two, knowing that the peaceful meal could at any minute erupt into a deadly brawl, over nothing more than a scrap of food.

“ … this is my house, so this food I claim as my own! If you have any objections you know where the door is and my boot will gladly aid you on your way.” Grabbing his prize from the centre of the table he stands to address the gathering of superpowers with banger in hand.

“We’ve all felt this new presence far off in the margins between our north quadrant of the galaxy and that of the east. It has only been two days, less than 48 hours, since this ‘thing’ has emerged … and already it is well on its way to surpassing all of us in terms of sheer strength, such exponential growth of power and by tomorrow none of us would stand a hope in hell against it. It is still an unknown life form but whatever it is it needs to be dealt with, soon and with extreme prejudice. An hour of training to warm up in the gravity chamber then we embark to exterminate whatever the hell it is. Any questions?” None of the fighters respond and just stand up, heading off for Vegeta’s personal training room. Ayeka and Ryoko on the other hand have a ton of questions whirring around their minds, this being the first time they have heard about this new enemy.

The non combatants also quietly leave the kitchen for the more spacious and comfortable living room, leaving Vegeta alone with the two women. He bites off one half of the piece of meat still in his gloved hand and tears the remainder into two equal pieces. Looking down at the pieces of food he battles against the rising primal Saiyan urge to devour it there and then and steps towards the two seated women offering a piece to each of them.

“Here, take it. You came down late and so didn’t have anything to eat. One should not go without food, today of all days.” He shares his food extremely reluctantly, Ayeka courteously accepts and thanks him for the hand out. Ryoko snatches the quarter that would have been touched by Vegeta’s mouth when he took his bite.

“It’s just like indirectly kissing isn’t it, oh you are such a sly one Vegeta, asking me to nibble on your sausage. What would people say if they knew?” Ryoko’s teasing and flirting luckily goes unnoticed by Ayeka who doesn’t pick up on the euphemism used or what the coy corsair is alluring to. Vegeta groans, he should have seen that coming from a mile off, his mind was elsewhere focusing on the task he faces today.

Choosing rather to ignore Ryoko’s exasperating behaviour than confront her over it he walks off from the two women. Leaving them to eat the small breakfast that was left to them out of the rare charity of Vegeta. A booming rapping on her door brings Washu out of her sanctum of science.

“The battle armour I requested, is it ready yet?” Vegeta’s toned muscles in his crossed arms at eye level for the mademoiselle of knowledge and intellect are a perfect reminder to Washu as to why she accepted to do this little favour for him.

“I finished off the last batch late last night, it’s as light as a feather and a lot more durable than all other previous models. Oh, I also implemented it with your wife’s capsule technology so that … I don’t know, you could carry around spares in your pocket or something.” The magenta haired youth dashes back off into the lab and swiftly returns holding one of the small pill shaped devices with the logo not of Vegeta’s wife’s company but a little caricature of Washu’s face, her ego knows no bounds. Pressing the button and throwing the capsule on the floor a moment later in a puff of smoke a near perfect replica of Vegeta’s favourite attire lays on the ground.

The Saiyan prince stoops to pick it up, inspecting the protection he will have to use for today’s mission. No shoulder guards or skirt armour just like his own – but for the fact Washu also stamped her logo not too inconspicuously on one of the chest plates. He turns it around, balancing it on the tip of one of his fingers then brings one of his gloved fists smashing straight through both sides of the plate armour as if it were cardboard. Dropping the remains to the floor he looks unimpressed at Washu who is just gawking at him.

“What was that? I thought you said you’d improved it. You focused too much on decreasing the weight of the armour and not enough on the protection it offers to its wearers. It’s feather light for you, but you forgot that it’s not you who will be wearing it to potentially save their lives. As long as it’s under a quarter of a ton then it will not encumber my movements or fighting whatsoever … you have less than one hour, get to work or you’ll be coming with us on this mission.” With that ominous threat hanging over her she scurries back into her lab with the ruined piece of armour in her hands.

“Hey, you two, where do you think you’re going?” Vegeta stops Ryoko and Ayeka on their way past him, barring their way past with his body.

“You said an hour of training right? So we’re going to the training room like you said.” Ryoko seems confused by having to answer this question, surely Vegeta remembers what he said a few minutes ago.

“Ha, don’t make me laugh. I meant that only for real fighters, you better sit this one out with the other weaklings. This battle will be hard enough without having to babysit the both of you. Until you can overpower Videl or Chichi you’re not worth the effort of bringing along.” Striding away from them he enters the training room and slams the thick door in their faces. They are fuming, infuriated by his blasé dismissal of their kind offering of aiding him in the sortie.

Only just keeping their emotions in check both women moodily sit down by the other outclassed or passive members of the group. Being put in the same class as the two infant girls playing with Ryo-ohki is just too great an affront to each of their sense of honour and pride they cannot bear it, never mind his blatant rejection of them.

“Grrr. How dare he! Who does he think he is? I’m a space pirate, feared in over ten solar systems for my power and … and he goes and says I’m too weak to help; too frail, that I’d just get in the way. He’ll pay for putting me with this old grandma.” With that Ryoko signs her own death warrant. Being sat next to Chichi, who honestly never likes the topic of her age, this in hindsight was the worst possible thing she could have done or said.

The hellfires raise in the wife of Goku’s eyes. She slowly rises from her seat staring at Ryoko with murderous intent. A small little squeal escapes from the frightened Ryoko as she watches Chichi’s hair loose itself from its bun and begins to rise, a burgundy like flame surrounding the enraged wife and mother. Ayeka can’t help but enjoy watching Ryoko squirm under the extreme discomfort of the situation, a sentiment not shared by the other onlookers – Videl, Dende and Chiaotzu.

“WHAT!DID!YOU!CALL!ME!?!” The acid dripping words seethe out of her clenched teeth. Her face hardening into a dark visage of maddening outrage, the Kaioken-like aura intensifying around Chichi like her blinding rage. Ryoko phases up on top of one of the wooden beams, peeping her head tentatively over the edge to peer down on the bride of Goku.

“Y-you must have misheard me I-I called you … umm a-a nice p-pretty young lady who doesn’t look a-a day over 70.” The meek excuse Ryoko hopes will atone her for her loose tongue dangerously backfires, a slight discrepancy between her concept of how long a year is and that of an Earth year seals her fate.

Like a rabid cat Chichi leaps into the air with a flying kick aimed straight at Ryoko’s hiding spot, the wood splinters and groans as her foot lands on it and instantly she rebounds to where Ryoko is quickly flying off to. Hard pressed to defend herself from such an onslaught of lightning fast kicks and jabs, Chichi’s claws are out in this cat fight. Forced to phase away from Chichi Ryoko appears outside the house a safe 50ft off the floor. Chichi rushes outside to continue her assault against the flying woman but her inability to fly leaves her unable to hit Ryoko, even though she can easily jump to the same height as that of which Ryoko is hovering at.

“What the hell’s wrong with you? Is this how earthlings react when I give them a compliment, sheesh!”

“A compliment! As if, I don’t care what part of space you’re from but if you think calling me an old 70 year old is a compliment you’re out of your mind. I’ll have you know I’m still in my thirties!” With all her unbridled fury Chichi shouts this last statement, still itching to get her own back on the one flying tauntingly above her head. Ryoko looks confused, her concepts of time differing greatly from that of the woman below her.

“You lie. There’s no way that you’re only 30, you’d still look like Sasami if you were. We’re both women here so you can tell the truth, I myself am in my second century of being alive.” Chichi is silenced, too shocked by the announcement that Ryoko is closer in age to Roshi than her.

“Hahahahahaha, oh now isn’t this a pleasant little surprise. So there is a very good explanation as to why you always behave like an old hag … and for the sagging.” Ayeka chuckles to herself from her spot in the shadows of the doorway, unable to contain the ecstatic glee from overhearing this conversation and finding out Ryoko’s true age.

“MY BODY IS NOT SAGGING! I’ll show you who’s an old hag you fat, inbred bitch!” Now it’s Ryoko’s turn to be on the offensive concerning the delicate issue of age. With a battle cry she dives towards the princess with balls of flickering red gathering in her fists. Ayeka spawns her miniature guardians which begin to crackle with growing energy as the space pirate swoops down ready to blast her.

With Ryoko but feet away from her Ayeka lifts off from the ground preparing to engage her when a pale faced child sized man steps into the fray. The air shimmers around them, their bodies trapped as if they were set in stone. Paralyzed by the telekinetic powers of Chiaotzu he stops their fight. He keeps them in that frozen state for half an hour until he thinks they have calmed down enough to be released – this he judges as that is the time when they stop exchanging insults.

In control of their own bodies again the women see the consequences of continuing their grudge match, Ryoko phases back into the house with Ayeka and Chiatzou walking back in after her. With peace, in the loosest form of the word, enforced the four women, two girls, Namekian and Chiaotzu watch the television screen to see how the sparring matches are going.

7 intense battles are raging simultaneously, each fighter paired up with the most appropriate other of a similar power level – although for some this still leaves them seriously outclassed and outmatched. The old martial arts master is trying to land blows on the genie of the lookout, his old body still muscular but not as fast as it once was. Wrinkles and age have eroded some of his former strength but he still has enough left in him and the wisdom and battle experience of his great age still makes him a valuable asset to the warriors. Mr. Popo doesn’t seem to be having too much trouble deflecting the elderly fists shooting towards him but the stamina of Roshi eventually begins to tire the servant of Dende.

The dynamic duo, Goten and Trunks, obviously paired themselves up together for the pretend fight. Neither taking it too seriously as the rules enforced by the others of no transformations, blasts or planet destroying techniques to be used to protect the more vulnerable of the Z warriors from the destructive capabilities of the might of Saiyans. Only one year in difference between the lads yet at such a young age this gives Trunks a good advantage over Goten in muscle growth and reach.

Tall and slim battles short and stocky as Krillin has the misfortune of having his wife attacking him. The she-cyborg being able to over power super Saiyans with relative efficiency and the strongest human being alive – how Krillin wishes that his power and years of training would count for anything as his Mrs bears down upon him. 18 would never kill her beloved husband but the amount she has to restrain her formidable strength by just to make the training non fatal for Krillin is testing her self control.

For old time’s sake Piccolo squares up against the first being to witness his power after re-joining bodies with Kami. The calm and confident 17 prepares for a rematch after this duel was interrupted by a most unwelcome guest last time. Coal black hair and pea green antenna flail about as they finally try and settle the score. Not the only pair to be recreating a historic scene the firstborn Human-Saiyan hybrid is left with the only other close to approaching his prowess, even though it having rapidly dipped off after Old Kai’s supreme bolstering of his unbridled hybrid potency. Him and Buu seem on even ground with each other mainly as Buu has no technique or grace when it comes to fighting and has not fought for well over two years now.

It’s not all fun and games though, for the two final match ups are those between crusaders with grudges. Vegeta and Goku, Yamcha and Tien. Neither Vegeta or Yamcha having ever truly forgiven their sparring partner for their humiliation, their disgrace and injuries. Yamcha suffered a broken leg last time he truly fought against Tien and that injury left him in no shape to defend his friends from the evil of King Piccolo, Vegeta will never surrender his pride or rightful place of strongest Saiyan to the ragtag low-class scum and for that the training starts to get interesting.

The audience intently watching the screen cheers on their respective warrior; Chiaotzu for Tien, Dende for Piccolo and Mr. Popo, Videl for Gohan, Chichi for Goku and of course Ryoko and Ayeka keenly observing Vegeta’s battle. Brash and bold as ever Ryoko isn’t as shy as Ayeka when it comes to letting people know where her allegiance lies. Sasami and Marron couldn’t care less about the tournament occurring but 10 metres from where they amuse themselves with the mountain of toys Vegeta generously bought for his small personal chef.

The hour is almost up, the training comes to a crashing halt as one by one a winner is decided in each match. Getting tired of being on the receiving end Popo dispatches Roshi, the frailty of his elder age once again catching up with him. The turtle hermit’s defeat almost makes Krillin’s look like a close match for as soon as his wife quickly bores of the relative weakness of her husband he is down and out eating dirt. Android 17 and Buu both taste defeat once again at the hands of Piccolo and his first and only student Gohan. Goten and Trunks’ contest though is won by a hair’s breadth as the older lad triumphantly stands over his thwarted buddy.

Not allowing themselves to be outdone in anyway, Yamcha and Tien struggle on against each other through the onset of fatigue and injury. Never conceding ground to the other, not backing down the humans continue their fight whilst the only others left make them look as though they were helpless new born babies. No-one watching could honestly have described in the slightest what the fight Goku and Vegeta had consisted of. As soon as both of them had set foot in the training room they had vanished from sight, with not a single trace of their whereabouts or fight detectable.

Tien and Yamcha at the last second break off from one another and fly out of the training room as the whole holographic earth erupts in a mountain of bedrock and debris. None of the fighters or non-combatants are paying any attention to the television but staring through the open doorway where the two scarred humans stand panting and exhausted. Behind them in a crater that would rival that of one caused by a large moon impacting the simulated world two Saiyans interlock in an epic struggle.

Braced against each other, hands locked, feet dug a foot into the solid rock the prince and the pauper push with all their strength against each other. The world beneath them continues to crack and fracture, the hill sized boulders unearthed by them vibrating into the air and a thunderous groan shudders the virtual globe. A smile of understanding flickers between the destined pair. The roars of the trembling planet are drowned out by the yells of the most powerful beings in existence as they both ascend in synch with the other to super Saiyan 3.

The aura radiated out from them envelopes the entire battlefield, bolts of lightning zap and dart across the open doorway. Everyone just stands and stares, unable to do anything else at this incomprehensible power displayed before them. Only Dende seems to not care about the ensuing battle as he tunes it out and sets to his job of healing all of the combatants with his mystical unique Namekian powers. Not a single person, including Gohan, can follow or tell what is taking place behind the wall of shining luminescence barring the portal to the battleground. Then a deafening silence deadens the house.

Emerging from their own blinding light Vegeta and Goku walk towards the rest of the group, their clothes tattered and torn like their bodies. Not waiting for Dende, Vegeta carries on slamming open Washu’s door, obliterating it again. His coarse blonde hair disappearing through the door, the floor beneath him cracking, the air around him sizzling and boiling from his immense amount of energy constantly being given off by his body. Like a flare he lights his own way into the endless system of rooms and corridors of Washu’s den, following the faint humming and buzzing of her busily working machines and computers.

The rumble shaking her lab deepens and escalates, by now she has no need to guess who is stomping towards her. Her hands a blur over the keyboard she enters the last command to her robotic inventions as she rushes to finalise the assignment she was given not too long ago. 13 capsules quickly tumble out of a large dispenser, grabbing them Washu turns to face the growing source of light encroaching on her position.

The light suddenly cuts off plunging her lab back into murky gloom, lit only by the ghostly light emitted from the numerous screens and monitors. Her genius mind estimates his position correctly. Slowly swivelling round on her floating chair she comes face to face with a slightly worn out and bruised Vegeta.

“You’re just in time. Right this moment I have done the impossible and redesigned, remodelled and recreated this whole batch of my armour-”

“TO HELL WITH THE ARMOUR! If you don’t tell me right this second why the training room simulation and gravity cut off when I was in the midst of prevailing over that damned Kakarot you will beg for the sweet release of death before I’m done with you!” His barrel chest sharply rising and falling as his laboured breathing continues to try and counteract the large oxygen debt his body built up in the last few minutes, his ki slowly disposing of the lactic acid and other signs of fatigue. His eyes like daggers he waits for an explanation, a good one or she would be smeared across the floor and decorating the walls of this godforsaken place.

“It shut down? Hmmm interesting, lets take a look … I wonder …” Her life on the line she pivots to face her semi-translucent computer flicking through the flood of information continually flowing into her archives and databases. In no time at all she has found the relevant window and opened it to reveal why her upgrades to the training room ceased functioning.

“Seems like you two actually managed to overload its circuitry; every fuse is blown, every wire burnt out and most of the components charred to a crisp. You broke every failsafe I installed, every last one of them … and I designed it to be able to take as much energy as that emitted from a dozen star systems combined. You Saiyans really don’t interact well with your environment when powered up do you?” She might have pushed her luck too far with that last remark. Wincing she shies and prepares her pretty young face to be malformed by his fists … opening her eyes she carefully checks around her lab. Still on guard, she goes back to work on the armour to find all the capsules missing. In the distance she hears another of her mass produced doors that automatically replaces its unfortunate predecessor being slammed and broken as Vegeta leaves her be.

He is seriously pissed that his duel with Goku was disrupted like it was when Buu was first spawned, yet there are bigger fish to fry and the fool can wait for another day. Back with his companions and compatriots, Vegeta awaits for Dende to restore him to full health. All the others are applauding his and Goku’s spectacular show, the women proud of their men as are their sons. Goku’s and Vegeta’s eyes linger on the other for a while, both itching to finish what they started and their hunger for battle still roaring within them.

Now with every fighting member of the Z warriors back at their maximum Vegeta throws down all the armour capsules he took from Washu’s lab, activating their automatic release system. 13 perfect sets of Saiyan battle garments lay on the floor between Vegeta and the rest, he stifles his anger at the way in which Washu took the liberty of customising each chest plate with her little icon. He also is curious as to why she decided that making different versions and colourations of the armour was necessary, he will never understands the machinations her astute yet twisted mind concocts.

His current armour he is wearing is in shreds, as is most of the clothing worn by all the other participants from the harsh hour of training they were subjected to. Washu must have foreseen this and so included with each set of armour a blue or black jumpsuit out of the kindness of her heart. Bending down on one sturdy knee the prince of Saiyans picks up the nearest suit of armour, gratified to find it has some weight to it this time and seems more durable.

One minute he is wearing clothes on the brink of falling off of him the next he is perfectly dressed in the armour that was in his hands, blue jumpsuit and Saiyan armour complete with pauldrons and crotch and hip guards. It feels good to be back in the old uniform he wore before Earth and his downfall, decades have passed since he last wore any armour such as this. Ryoko however is disheartened that Vegeta has changed before her very eyes yet not even a glimpse of his body was offered for her. With Vegeta now ready and stretching his elasticated gloves and boots on the others begin to choose their own raiment.

Black and green, no shoulder or hip guards – the armour of a Saiyan elite force member. If it only had no sleeves or torso part of the black jumpsuit Goku would look in every sense like the father he never knew. The only others to have tried on armour before, Gohan and Krillin, both decide on the ones closest to resembling those they wore back on Namek when they fought against Freiza. Full sleeved, blue jumpsuit and with the prominent pauldrons attached to the breastplate Gohan joins the other Saiyans whilst Krillin struggles with the boots on his armour.

The women seem to not know where to look with men apparently undressing right before them yet they don’t see anything. Washu did not make any of the jumpsuits sleeveless or without trousers like Nappa or Raditz wore. Despite this though there is still a considerable variation in the armours available such as colour schemes or additional protection such as Haidate. The geminate androids disregard the armour and decide to go without it, on aesthetical grounds mainly for 18 as she feels that it would be a crime against fashion for one such as her to wear this crude clothing.

The reformed desert raider and turncoat student of the Crane martial arts school don the black and brown shoulder padded armour alike to what Goku’s brother wore before Piccolo drilled through his and Goku’s stomach. Goten and Trunks are not left with any choice, the armour might stretch to any size but it does not decrease past a certain limit so the two pint sized whippersnappers don the junior sized armour. The last warrior to dress for battle is the Namekian who lives in solitude, already having shoulder pads he drapes his cape over the navy blue armour he grudgingly wears. Roshi and Popo would wear the remaining suits if it were not too cumbersome for them, they do not have such levels of strength for even lifting the hardened armour off of the ground never mind being able to move with any degree of speed in it.

“Everyone ready? Ok then all of us join hands together and I’ll instant transmission us to the planet this thing is currently on-” Goku takes charge for he doesn’t yet know that in his training Vegeta has also mastered the art of teleportation and so assumes he is the only one who can instigate their little adventure.

“Hey wait a minute Goku. I got to say goodbye to Marron first Ok, be just a minute.” The long term friend of Goku goes to his daughter along with his wife. Deciding to leave his precious Marron in the capable hands of the woman in the room with the strongest maternal instincts of all, Chichi. Promising he and 18 will be back safe and soon Krillin and his wife re-join with the assembled soldiers of unrivalled might. Standing in a circle the men, woman and Namekian join hands with each other – most of them feeling very awkward and self aware in this embarrassing stance.

“Hey wait! Don’t leave without me! Wait!” Two feminine voices chime in unison. Vegeta curses not too quietly under his breath when he sees the two women who have plagued his last week sprinting into the room at full speed. He takes his eyes off of the them for less than a few minutes whilst he waits for the others to get ready and they must have snuck off and changed into their own battle gear. Ryoko back in her tight fitting crimson and black one piece. Ayeka’s suit is radically different from all the other garbs and garments she has worn around the house, although Vegeta didn’t expect her to have a set of clothing for war anyhow. Long leather boots, salmon coloured tights and sleeves, a brown and black hardened waistcoat with a baby blue ribbon wrapped tightly around her slim waist but most shocking of all is the grey hue her skin has taken on as well as the two black slashes along each of her cheeks.

“Kakarot go now, we don’t need their help. Go!” A wry smile plays across Goku’s face as he hesitates for one second before all of the Z warriors fizz out of existence and view, along with Ayeka and Ryoko who at the last instant had managed to brush their fingertips along Vegeta’s back. With nothing left to do the women and Chiaotzu sit down patiently waiting for the safe return of the ones who had just left. Ryo-ohki meows loudly as she watches her owner desert her, quickly forgetting about it as she hops back towards the merry young girls.

“You lot just gonna sit there and wait aren’t you. Well lucky for you the smartest and most beautiful scientist is here to help. You’ll all be glad to know that I secreted in microscopic high definition cameras cunningly hidden within my logo on the armour that they are wearing that should be transmitting live feed right now to this T.V screen right now.” Popping out of her lab now she knows the coast is clear and her life is no longer being threatened by Vegeta, the girl like prober of the unknown and unknowable Washu takes a seat by the other women. Plopping herself down in-between Chichi and Videl she switches on the T.V and turns it over to channel -1, her own special channel for her own frequency of broadcasts, as the screen loads and projects all 9 data feeds.

BAMF! 15 humanoids appear out of thin air on a far away planet. A faint breeze whistles past them, stirring up the grey dust and ash covering the whole landscape. A barren and desolate wasteland of grey and brown, not a hint of greenery or life to be seen. Five great moons of differing size light the night sky along with a host of celestial bodies unviewable from the Earth they just left. Their feet sink slightly into the cinders coating the floor of this desert, this featureless plain devoid of all topography or undulations just a flat landscape of sombre ash from horizon to bleak horizon.

Ryoko and Ayeka start to cough and wheeze from the low concentration of oxygen on the arid uninhabited world. The spluttering of the women breaks the eternal silence of the wasted world, the only noise made on the planet as the rest is silence. Vegeta shrugs off the two arms of the women grasped firmly to his back as he takes in his surroundings, noting that there will be no geographical features to give an advantage to anyone. No high ground or mountains to smash someone into, not nearby at least. The other warriors seem to also be analysing the area that will soon become a battleground, testing how much give the ground has, the effect the only slightly stronger gravity has on their bodies and what the change in oxygen concentration might have on their stamina.

“Darn it, we’re too late. I hoped we could save this world from this monster … yet everything is gone, it’s already killed them all.” Goku’s compassion for all living things shines through, even though he did not know who or what lived here the fact that every species of the planet bar one is extinct exasperates the kind soul.

“There’s nothing we can do ‘bout it now. Hey at least it didn’t absorb them to make itself stronger.” Trying to lighten the mood the person most accustomed to climates like this, Yamcha, cheers up his long time pal.

“You’re right there Yamcha. I just pray that this one doesn’t have regeneration powers or else we’ll be in trouble.”

“Hey! What’s wrong with regeneration? I can do it.” The men all turn at this unexpected announcement from Ryoko, annoyed at this slander of what she deems to be a very important part of her fighting ability.

“I agree with you Ryoko. Regeneration is an incredibly useful technique to have under your belt, yet when every enemy you fight can reconstruct its whole body from just a single cell that’s when it starts to get real annoying.” With his green and pink arms crossed, his striped muscles pronounced, Piccolo doesn’t bother looking at who he is addressing just off into the distance where an energy level can be sensed. All of them but Ayeka can sense it and it is growing, swelling, nearing and doing all of these fast.

“I explicitly forbade you from accompanying us, you could endanger us all and jeopardise this mission. Damn you both! Don’t you realise how much danger you are in here? This isn’t a game you fools, you could die here. Do you want that? Ayeka I expected as much from you, you’ve never been in a battle in your life but you Ryoko, I expected you to at least have some slight common sense and stay the hell away. Damn you both to hell!” Still taking great umbrage from his cut short fight he snarls this out a bit too harshly, but only a tad more than he meant to.

“But lord Vegeta w-we just wanted to help, I didn’t mean to cause any upset.” Poor Ayeka seems nearly heartbroken by him yelling at her, she went through all that trouble of fishing out this ceremonial battle garment and once again through the pain of teleportation just to be shouted at like a misbehaved child.

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions, I know I’ve been down that road far too many times than I would like. Now shut up and I’ll take you back to my house where you will be safe from harm.” This little domestic scene has caught everyone’s attention, it is the only think going on in the landscape though, so as Vegeta marches towards them a gnarled hand stops him.

“Hey dude just chill out for a sec ok? Let those two babes stay for a little while, you don’t have to worry about them just yet and if it gets a little too dangerous then Goku can Instant Transmission them back to your gaff and hey presto everything’s fine. Who knows they might be a bit weaker then us but every little helps, you know what I’m saying. ” Although Ayeka is not too fond of him calling her by such a derogatory term she firmly agrees with what he is saying as does Ryoko, who once again has taken to staring achingly at Vegeta with pleading puppy dog eyes.

“Humph. You may have a point Yamcha. So be it, you two may be of some use after all. So for the time being you can stay but at any sign of trouble you’re gone. Protect Dende, I’m sure that should be something the both of you can manage, if he falls then we lose our medical support so don’t mess up.” With that final comment he leaves them to look at the same spot on the horizon that Piccolo is watching with eagle eyes. Content with his decision to let them stay they move over next to the Namekian who is towering head and shoulders above them yet is the weakest fighter out of all of them.

“Hey Dad do I get a super special important mission like them, do I?” Giddy with the prospect of the forthcoming battle due to the diluted Saiyan blood coursing through his veins Trunks eagerly runs up to his father’s side. Vegeta looks down on his only child, the last remnant he has remaining of Bulma, and mulls it over in his mind. He doesn’t want to needlessly risk his son’s life, having witnessed the death of Trunks before he does not want to go through that again, but his son is still a Saiyan and so by default has to be on the frontlines.

“Trunks, your assignment is the most important of all, you and Goten have the big task of … ensuring the safety of those three people over there. There lives are in your hands, go now and do your duty my son.” Totally enraptured by the enthusiasm and authority with which his father spoke with, Trunks and Goten hurry off to lay down their lives if need be for the people under their protection. Ryoko and Ayeka are not too thrilled however that Vegeta seems to think that children are needed to keep them safe from harm, no matter if they can turn super Saiyan or not.

“You guys better get ready, it’s here … and it looks like it brought friends with it.” Scratching his pitch black goatee Gohan looks at the spot that has grabbed everyone’s attention now stood next to his oldest friend and mentor. But a speck in the distance. A plume of dust ever growing and increasing in size, vast amounts of the ashes and dust scattering the floor thrown into the air in a massive plume behind the things approaching the steadfast warriors. The trail blazing behind the beasts begins to brew into a vicious sandstorm, raging towards them as are the small figures that can barely be made out on the floor.

“You young whippersnappers stand back, just because I’m old doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself. Let’s see if I’ve still got it.” Roshi hands his precious shades to Tien, the guy he trusts the most not to put them on for the fact they would be rendered useless by the additional eye in the triclops’ forehead. Bracing his legs apart he stands before all the younger and stronger warriors facing the adversaries and takes a deep breath.

His shirt erupts and flutters down to the floor in shreds. The muscles of the aged man doubling then tripling in size till he stands about a foot taller than Piccolo. Ayeka and Ryoko look amazed at this three hundred year old with the body of a giant, his back muscles rippling with raw power and ham sized fists coming together at his right hand side. His body swivels into the motion of the technique that took him 50 long years to develop and was widely acclaimed as the most powerful on Earth – but that was a long time ago, back when it was his name they shouted not Mr. Satan’s.

“KAaaaa…MEEeeee…HAAaaaa…MEeeeeee …” A glowing blue globe bursts into his hands. Dazzling azure light dances in his mighty fists, continually enlarging until his hands cannot hold the sphere anymore. Thrusting his tree sized arms forward and opening his palms at the onrushing horde.

“Huuurgghhheuaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” The turtle wave like a bolt of lightning from the gods of old shoots from his wrinkled hands tearing a cleft in the ground beneath were it travels, leaving a furrow 20m wide. The sapphire beam contacts with the animals beneath the sandstorm ploughing straight through and obliterating them all in a cerulean explosion that engulfs them all. Dispersing the mountainous sandstorm. Silence once again takes over the planet, no movement can be heard, no signs of life can be seen just a good sized divot still smoking.

That one attack used up roughly all of Roshi’s power, he cannot hope to add more to their effort then that attack as his wheezing lungs pant from the exertion. Planting his dinner plate sized palms on his thighs he calmly exhales slowly reversing his transformation to 100% power to a form much less cumbersome for fighting. His bushy white eyebrows and beard are plastered to his face and neck from sweat as he stands, more like David than the Goliath he was before.

“Woo wee I’m pooped, you guys can take it from here though I don’t know what you got so worked up about if I can kill it.” The topless old man retrieves his shades from the other chest baring man which he left in his possession, fluently putting them back on in a century long practised motion before parking himself down on the gritty floor to rest. Thinking it’s all over Ryoko and Ayeka leave their post at Dende’s side to celebrate the anticlimactic victory with Vegeta. Their merry cheering is met by silence as the warriors pay no heed to their joyfulness, instead the men fan out into a wide circle with the women, children and Dende at its centre.

Having only been able to recuperate himself for less then a minute Roshi flips onto his tired old feet, stretching and limbering up he takes his position at the gap between Piccolo and Buu. Ayeka looks around puzzled not sure why the men are still readying for battle when all the enemies lies incinerated in a crater a mile away, totally oblivious to the ki that Ryoko can detect surrounding them. Ryoko’s eyes widen in fear as her newfound sense is overloaded by such a large amount of ki signature’s so close and so powerful, encompassing them.

The shifting sands start to vibrate, a clever ruse by the enemy to send in a headlong charge to all but blind them from the swarm burrowing beneath the loose ground to box in the new prey that it has found. Limbs and heads crawl from the ground in their thousands and the fighters finally get a good look at what they came to put down and wipe from the galaxy. Such a massive host now stands before them waiting for some unseen signal to begin the besiegement of the universe’s finest.

“These skinny runts are what we came for, pathetic. I’ve seen more meat on a twig and houseplants that are tougher than these.” Vegeta scoffs thoroughly unimpressed by the small and skeletal state of what he had hoped would be a chance to show his strength, or at least a slight workout.

“HEY! Your houseplants aren’t that weak, they killed me once.” How could Yamcha forget his encounter with the Saibamen, a year of training down the drain due to a kamikaze attack and the grasping clutches of death. Night terrors still disturb him: the pasty green face with glowing red eyes cawing incomprehensibly before light engulfs them both and his body fried.

These small monstrosities aren’t too dissimilar from those home grown little green men from space. Long spindly limbs attached to a torso that has not an ounce of fat or muscle on it and so emphasising the large ribcage and broad bony shoulders of the critters. Two long whip like tails ceaselessly flicker behind their spined and ridged backs. A verdant green tongue lashes from the obsidian maw lined with many small and pointy fanged canines. The head of the beastie is an elongated crocodilian like snout, two nostrils at the end, no ears or hair but 4 phosphorescent dark emeralds glitter as they stare intently at their quarry with unblinking reptilian focus.

The gorilla like arms of the quadruped end in a two thumbed and two fingered hand, with one sickle like claw maliciously curving back towards its palms when it walks on its knuckles. As one the mass rises off of its forearms and stands semi upright like a primitive biped, its long legs featuring a wicked prong jutting from each knee and a massively oversized serrated claw impatiently tapping on the floor, cutting through the ground beneath it like a hot knife through butter. A shiver courses over the thick carapace of all the monsters, the coarse overlapping scales coating it more like the rough bark of a tree then that of any animal with verdant green pulsating through the sliver thin gaps between the plating.

Quickly deducing that they are dealing with a hive mind from the perfect synchronicity displayed between each individual animal the humanoid combatants prepare themselves for the coming storm. Right then left then right again, in complete harmony with all those around them arms thrust into the air letting loose fireballs hurtling into the sky. Blotting out the sun and the entire sky the heroes brace themselves in the shade as the flames reach the peak of their ark and accelerate down. Tien and Krillin break formation and spring into the air wafting their hands around them as ki shoots out to intercept all the weak missiles aimed at them. A successful flak laid down by the two humans easily halts the attack of the enemies. The fireballs themselves incinerated into ashes by pure energy. The two diversiform humans land back in their fighting positions around the defensive ring waiting for the next attack.

“It’s odd, I only detected one life force on this planet when I Instant Transmissioned us here. Can these things cloak their life force ‘cos I still can’t detect them and they certainly aren’t androids.” Goku was never the sharpest knife in the draw but his observation is one that all the others have been pondering on. A single extremely large energy is all they can sense yet their eyes tell them that there might be a few more than that. The question is how.

“Hmm, I’ve been thinking the same thing. I have no idea why it’s skewing with our ability to sense it … maybe it just reproduced itself asexually en masse creating a host of clones to battle us.” His white cloak now dirtied from the dust blowing in the breeze Piccolo voices his thoughts on this troublesome matter with the only thing he can think of – asexual reproduction being the way that Namekians breed.

Meanwhile back at a comfortable sofa on Sol 3 the brightest mind in the galaxy thinks over this problem before her. The hypothesis of Piccolo is greatly flawed if what Goku says is true. Replication on such a scale, even if exponential, would take a lot more time than the apparent amount of time by which the large reptilians were spawned. Though a sample of one or a month long study would greatly aid her research into this new species all she has to go on is the audio and video feed coming in at a 10 second delay – which saying they are well over 27,000 light years away is an accomplishment she wished the others would praise her for. Only one virus had she heard of that could replicate at that speed but scaling up to a complex organism such as this and she decides that reproduction cannot be the reason for the army facing these 15.

“Don’t be deceived Piccolo. These are all the same being, I’m sure of it. That faint trace in their ki signature, can’t you feel it … these are legion for they are many. Tien, looks like your not the only one to invent the multi form technique and this one seems to have a mastery of it I didn’t think was possible.” The scientist on the scene proclaims to his Namekian mentor and the others around him.

“Ha! Seems like we’re dealing with a bigger fool than Kakarot then. Dividing itself this many times and each individual is not even worth the effort … this is a slaughter, no not even that, this is target practise. Even the women here might be able to take them down and I was so looking forward to testing my mettle against something worthy.” Vegeta drops his guard and leaves the ring walking towards the centre as does Goku, neither wanting to be part of a battle so beneath them in terms of power.

In spite of the man of their dreams being stood a lot closer to them, it doesn’t ease the growing sense of trepidation that Ayeka and Ryoko feel. Looking around them all they see is the multitude of green and black, the glinting claws and glowing eyes. Roshi shares their apprehension knowing himself to be the weakest link in the chain and that being emphasised after the Kamehameha wave he cast that sapped most of his strength.

“Come on guys, what you waiting for? I say we stick it too them and show these things what we’re capable of.” With that the husband of 18 launches off into the fray, glancing back at his wife as he does so. Not wanting to be outdone all the others, save the two Saiyans, rush the clawed horrors for their chance of blood or glory against the insurmountable odds. Vegeta’s prediction proves to be 100% correct.

The five foot tall father is the first to land a hit on the unlucky individual of the army before him he singled out, this one punch smashes its whole chest cavity and whatever organs were inside into a amber mush slowly seeping out of its scales. Krillin’s other hand raises to the dark sky and traces a quick circle before flinging his Destructo-Disk. It leaves a truly horrific wake behind it of bisected or decapitated abnormalities and a score more of badly mutilated creatures struggling to survive the horrendous amputations the razor sharp ki attack dealt them.

The sounds of battle bring life to the silent planet; cries of the dead and dying grotesques, squeals of pain and from those of Earth only the shouts of their signature moves they are utilising to devastating effect against such insubstantial foes. Gooey orange sap sticks to Tien’s fists as he splays his fingers in front of his third eye for his Solar Flare needlessly handicapping the already doomed foes he is facing before they meet their quick end. More and more of the amber gloop coats the dust of the battleground. Lucky for Yamcha that his gi is already orange or else the bloodshed he has caused with his wolf fang fists would have dyed any other garment to that colour. His mind not caring about the life juices of those he crushes in his might or how none of them seem to be putting up any attempts of notable resistance bar trying in a futile attempt to block the savage kicks and strikes he lays down on them.

Gohan and Piccolo stand back to back in the midst of the host they came to this barren rock in space to cleanse from existence. Two of Piccolo’s fingers are brought down from his head as he shoots out his arm. It stops mere inches from the petrified quadruped before he elongates his arm as if it were made of rubber, his clawed fingers impaling that of the one before him and skewering a dozen more unfortunates. Now his limb resembles more a kebab then an arm before he unleashes the Special Beam Cannon he charged up prior, disintegrating still more of the greatly decreasing numbers of the enemies. Gohan sees this and cricks his neck to the side, not looking at the fiends he calmly raises his left palm and over a hundred beings suddenly erupt in flame. The burning remains of them rain down like embers by a bonfire on the few surviving enemies left.

Not wanting to dirty themselves in the bloodbath ensuing below them the sibling cyborgs rain hellfire down, ki blasts homing and seeking the stragglers out. An extra layer of ashes falls over the sap / blood pooling on the dry ground. Craters, body parts, ruts in the ground and unrecognisable burning fragments is all that is left of the mighty host.

The battle, if it can be called that for it was so one sided, is over. The last body has fallen to the ground, ready for the shifting sands of the desert to take it back from whence it came. It lasted a minute at maximum and proved little challenge to all except for Roshi who unlike the others had to duel one on one with each gorilla armed adversary to be assured victory against it. All the fighters are now spread out far and wide across the desolate and battered plains, covered in the unusual gluey gore as a reminder of the massacre they partook in. Separated from one another in their own personal melees and brawls.

“Do I have to do everything myself around here?” His patience tested to the limit by his son failing him in such a paltry task assigned to him Vegeta slowly begins to walk towards the group of 5, away from Goku. Halfway there the last of the savages bursts through solid rock, not two feet from Ayeka. He doesn’t miss a stride, having expected and predicted this he carries on his way whilst his son and the son of Goku only now realise their grave mistake in presuming all had been dealt with.

Ryoko summons her blade of orange energy and charges bringing it down hard on the shoulder of the beast before somersaulting backwards and blasting it from the air. One of its arms seems to be unable to move now and dislocated from whatever kind of shoulder it has, otherwise her assault on it is fruitless. Eyes as green as jade fix on the princess quickly summoning her shield as it springs forth; its one working arm stretching wide, its ravenous maw opening and all in a split second it is over.

Tail grabbed, all movement stopped and splattered into a fine haze as its body detonates on impact with the ground. Vegeta stands looking disapprovingly at Trunks who is still fiddling with his sword that has managed to get stuck in its leather sheathe due to the adhesive blood of the animals encrusting its blade.

“Kakarot there is no sport to be had here, not with these things whatever they are. I say we blow this planet to pieces from orbit and take up our fight again.” Disinterested Vegeta turns from the women who now owe him their lives. Ayeka looking at him in adulation as she savours the moment the brave prince saved the princess from the monster just like in all the ballads and bard’s tales she heard on Jurai in her youth.

“Come on Vegeta, you know as well as I do that this isn’t over yet. We might have defeated all of these multiforms but somehow I can still sense that same single tremendous power I felt when we first came here.”

“Hmm, you’re right there Kakarot. The damned thing’s been toying with us, testing us to see our strengths and weaknesses. Maybe there might be some fun to be had here after all.” Wiping the fine dust of what was left of the creature that made an attempt on Ayeka’s life off of his white gloves Vegeta surveys the few, the brave and the strong returning back towards him and Goku. The ward of Ryoko and Ayeka steps forward, feeling a bit uneasy from the carnage he witnessed being a Namekian of peace not war. Dende extends his powers to those who participated in the battle, rejuvenating the very minimal amount of energy lost in the skirmish and healing the few minor scratches sustained by Roshi.

“Hey you two, you don’t happen to know where Mr. Popo and Majin Buu are do you?” He doesn’t need the additional eye he has to make this observation, Tien seems to be not the only one who has noticed the apparent disappearance of the two portly companions of the party. Alerted to the fact that the caretaker of his gardens is missing in action seems to make Dende alert and apprehensive, eyes darting about and scanning for a sign of the black genie he has grown to depend on.

“They both seem to be nearby and in the same position. The fight must have dragged them further afield, never seen Popo fight must have been quite something.” Piccolo reassures the other member of his race who has taken residency on Earth, thinking back on Kami’s memories of the perpetual watcher from the lookout who’s memories are now his since they re-joined bodies to become one Namekian.

CRASH! Two large objects strike the ground at Gohan’s feet. Inside the first crater is the one who Dende was fretting over, crumpled in a heap unconscious. Buu is splattered all over the second crater. His form not being as solid as that of the others, more amorphous, soon begins to wriggle as each separate piece and pool of him flows into one mass before reforming into his preferred shape.

“What the hell is that thing?” Gohan helps Mr. Popo out of the ground and places him carefully beside him as he sees the figure just stood there. Ryoko and Ayeka are petrified looking at this thing, pure malevolence dripping from it. No compassion and no soul, it scans those who have come to challenge it and killed its spawn. Being well over 10 feet tall it dwarfs those expendable sprog it sent against them, its musculature rippling and expansive over its great limbs nearly bursting through the inch think armour plating of its bark.

“I believe that is the foe we came to face, the foe who’s head shall be mounted on my wall.” Not turning his head the Prince of all Saiyans is the only one not looking at the great monstrosity as it stretches to its full height, tails cutting through the air and the abyss of its snout unhinging.

“GRRRRAAAAAEEEURGHHHG!” The booming roar rips through its alien throat as green light pulses outwards through its thickened hide turning the very air around it into searing plasma before it bursts through it. Pounding across the distance on all fours, the massive bulk builds up great speed and will soon be upon them.

“This is a job for Saiyan’s, you weaklings stay out of our way.” Vegeta steps forward, quickly followed by Goku and Gohan. A flash of light later and Gotenks stands beside his other Saiyan brethren prepared for the juggernaut tearing towards them. They exchange a very slight nod between each other as the four extraordinary beings stand their ground bracing their legs as ‘Grah’ is almost upon them. His ravenous mouth glistening like the deadest night, its eyes showing predatory greed lusting for the taste of their tender flesh.

“KAaaaa …” Goku’s hands dart to his side as he charges the first ki attack he ever learnt.

“MEEeeee. ..” Gohan follows his father’s example as blue light bursts into existence in his palms.

“HAAaaaa …” The fusion warrior child already has a colossal amount of energy charged up for the attack and still Gotenks draws on more staring at the talons of the beast.

“MEEeeee …” For the first time ever the Saiyan not related to Goku through blood joins him for the turtle wave, showing the low class warrior how to properly use this attack.

“HAAAAAA!” As one all four release their Kamehamehas point blank at the tank-like chest of the ravenous alien. An azure sun lights the arena as it is engulfed in a bright blaze of dazzling energy, all four blasts converging and conjoining hitting it dead centre.

The blast has barely struck it before it lunges out of the explosion like a shadow and hovers high in the night sky, it’s dark exterior being the perfect camouflage save for its verdant luminescence. Having leaped clean out of the way of the Kamehameha taking only a slight burn to one of its scales it watches as the unified wave of energy tears across the landscape before shooting off high into space. The planet loses on of its satellites in that instant. The full force of the Kamehameha’s brought unto it, a small reddish moon becomes naught but cinders drifting in the vacuum of space.

With the dust on the ground still clearing from their attack the four Saiyans look up at their enemy as they motion for the others to retreat and find cover knowing what the next move of the brute will be. Hailing down lightning bolts ‘Grah’ smites the four below him with the very rudimentary and primitive ki blasts that it can conjure from all four of its skull crushing paws. Fire and brimstone meteors crash into the erect barrier of Vegeta. Bouncing and ricocheting off it like harmless pebbles they continue on their altered trajectory blasting away the rock and ground encompassing the tetrad of omnipotent Saiyans. Apparently the women that have barged into his life might be of some use with the barrier technique of Jurai holding strong against all these ravaging blasts. Taking the brunt of it all and draining a miniscule amount of energy to cast.

Naught but a smouldering hole is left beneath them, the shield protecting them but not blocking out gravity so as the rock beneath them disintegrated and was taken by flame so too were they forced to fly. Hands glowing from the heat of its blasts the beast levitates in the air still, its animalistic mind still trying to work out these most mysterious creatures that have wandered into its territory. Unprepared for aggression against it, it is surprised when the shield coalesces and shoots towards Grah and instinct kicks in as its sickle clawed foot kicks and deflects the energy attack into the stars above.

A Frisbee of death, a guided infernal ball and two beams split the sky as Piccolo, Tien, Yamcha and Krillin charge forward to blindside the enemy who’s sole focus was on the Saiyans. Their improvised ambush worked better than the trap laid by the hell spawn in the air but still they are left looking at their most powerful techniques hitting it square in the back and it hardly flinching. One lone spine is loosened from its back and falls off of the creature’s otherwise intact carapace. The faint thud of its carbonised spine hitting the singed earth snaps something within the creature’s mind. It has been injured, it has been hurt and for the first time in its life it has felt pain … and does not like it.

Three humans and a Namekian seem to regret drawing the attention of Grah and evoking its wrath. Hissing, its elongated head turns to look at those who dare attack it with its teeth bared. Blood turning to ice under its dreadful stare, the Z warriors born on Earth slowly start to back away not taking their eyes off of the airborne menace. As soon as its body begins to move towards its frozen prey a foot slams into its jaw sending it spiralling down to the boulders below.

Acting to protect his friends from when he was a toddler, Gohan’s sturdy leg is firmly outstretched, his poise perfect. In the blink of an eye a talon lashes at his face, having recovered before it hit the ground Grah has rebounded back to take vengeance. Saved by the motion he saw out of the corner of his eye the razor fails to bisect his head yet draws blood all the same. Still recoiling from the speed of the attack Gohan clutches his face with one arm whilst he quickly descends and lands by his father and brother. Dende acts immediately and heals the curved slash marring Gohan’s face from his little hidey-hole leaving him with a smooth scar starting from his forehead and curving around the left side of his face and terminating at his chin.

Slowly Grah descends too, its blood starting to yearn for that of a true challenge in the field of battle like that of Saiyans. Snarling and licking its jagged fangs the exterminator of all this planet’s life lands on all fours in the middle of all four Saiyans. Such a powerful beast but a mere metre from them, its arms capable of easily lashing out at them. The Saiyans just stand and watch their foe. A maelstrom of sparks and lightning fly from the four as they all ascend to super Saiyan 2 form, their brilliance illuminating the dark and dreary landscape and their blue eyes coldly looking at the green eyes of the monster.

Although an intelligent sentient being, Grah is still a very young mutant beast and like all animals acts violently when both startled and surrounded. SMACK! An elephantine shin appears cracking Goku in the back of the head with enough force that it was a miracle that decapitation did not occur. The lights in his eyes dim and his hair darkens as the hero of so many battles crumples to the floor. Grah’s hulking form moving with such agility that no-one was prepared for such a savage attack, the pure shock that Goku has been taken down in a single blow is still slowly seeping into their skulls as it charges them.

Flabbergasted by the ease in which their father was taken down so easily in his super Saiyan form, Gohan and Gotenks meet the charge of Grah and begin hand to hand combat with it. Whilst their fists fly and meet the bone like defence as the barbarous monstrosity blocks every one of their moves against it, its bestial mind slowly analysing their moves and fighting style with its four optical orbs. Walking past the raging battle and sidestepping the wildly swinging barbed tails of Grah, Vegeta kneels by his fallen brother in arms looking at the sorry state he’s in.

“I expected more from you Kakarot, if that’s all I had to do to defeat you then you would have died years ago … why did you not dodge it you fool. Looks like this is one fight you’ll just have to miss then.” Vegeta stands up with Goku’s prone form over his shoulder looking on at the way in which Gotenks is fighting, wondering if what he is seeing reflects his son’s true power or not. Vegeta vanishes.

Grah has no fear, no notion of what the concept of this emotion is but even if it did the feeling would not be troubling it at all. Struggle as they will to get through its speed and defences, neither Gohan or Gotenks appear to be posing any real threat to it. Any hit they land is by pure chance and damages their hands on the rough exoskeleton more than the beast. Flailing tails whip past both of their heads drawing their attention as it sends out a wall of ki to both of them, repulsing them down to the ground. Whirlwinds of shimmering gold gust around both Saiyans, charging up to their maximum power before continuing this fight any further. Squinting its beady eyes from such blinding light Grah is taken unaware from the next combo of blows that hit it from super Saiyan 3 Gotenks.

Over a million miles away Goku’s body falls like a ragdoll onto the floorboards, deposited there by Vegeta to make sure his rival won’t go and get himself killed by the battle -for that is a pleasure only he will partake in. Job done he Instant Transmissions back to Grah’s planet to re-join the fight. His vanishing form still fading from the house as Chichi rushes to her collapsed husband scared to death she might lose him yet again.

Two versus one and for that Grah has lost the upper hand. Even using his tails and jaws the duo still outmatch him, their speed on par with his but one advantage they have that which Grah could never hope to replicate; experience. Savage claws rip at the air and kicks designed to eviscerate hapless foes are its specialty yet for all this Grah is in its first battle against things that can match it in terms of power and speed. In a trial by fire Grah learns which attacks leave it open, the strengths of its opponents and its own limitations but at the cost of a few more cracked and dented scales. Dicing with death Gotenks’ overconfidence nearly ends him on several occasions, dancing away from the attacks flying at him only at the last possible second. Grah is outmatched and being beaten back, injured but most importantly enraged.

Krillin and the rest can only be spectators to the match taking place above their heads, none of them capable of aiding the effort but more likely hindering the half blood Saiyans if they tried. Eyes barely able to follow the fast flying limbs of the trio locked in a fight to the death. Vegeta has no thoughts of joining Goku’s sprogs, when he fights he fights alone, the only thing left to him is to wait for Grah to best them so his turn can come around. Until then he might as well make himself useful so evacuating the useless plebs staring slack jawed at a level of fighting none of them could ever dream to achieve seems a good a place to start as any.

“You’ve had your fun so come now, time for you lot to leave before I have to scrape bits of you off the floor.” They don’t need to be told twice and hurry towards the only man capable of getting them away from certain doom, all but two. Android 17 stops halfway to Vegeta and points into the sky behind him yelling a warning of dire urgency.

Grah has knocked back both of his opponents and in the time it took for them to recover it has rocketed off away from them to finish off the easier prey it noticed earlier and never paid back for the hurt caused to it. Blackened claws glisten in the starlight, their keen edges hungry for man flesh and the ever ravenous eyes of Grah lock onto its chosen victim. Unluckily for Grah it chose Vegeta as its starting point, a mistake it won’t make again.

Four flashes of light hit Grah as it crashes down into the ground face first, smashing through the rock and eating dirt it lets out a tremendous thundering bellow. Each of its four limbs are locked in place, rings of yellow ki encircling its chunky wrists and shackling it to the very earth it is laid immobilised on. All of the momentum of the beast stopped at the feet of Vegeta. Never missing an opportunity to humiliate his foes he delivers a swift boot to Grah’s face knocking out a few knife like teeth before beckoning for the others to hurry to him.

“Look you two, now is not the time for this! Come to me at once! … Fine have it your way then, see if I care.” Ryoko and Ayeka don’t budge towards him, their minds set to stay with him to whatever end whether he wants them there by his side or not. Vegeta snarls at their stubbornness and is gone taking with him the outclassed warriors. Drop off complete he doesn’t stay on Earth any longer than it takes to break physical contact with those he brought with him in transit and returns to war.

Grah’s constraints though powerful suffer from a fatal flaw that Vegeta has never managed to work out and that being they are as strong as their weakest link, that being the gritty floor they are bolted to. A faint trickle of orange sap spills from the monster’s mouth as it rises up to its full height no longer hindered from its manacles and sees two tasty morsels kindly left unattended before it. The two brothers failed to notice that Vegeta did not take with him all of the others off of this desolate rock and have to quickly break off their recuperation as they see a flash of obsidian darting towards a pair of women.

The jaws of death open up before Ryoko and Ayeka, the stench of millions dead festering from the black gullet ready to devour them. Their screams are cut off as abruptly as they rose from their throats as teeth slam down and oversized canines grate against each other.

“Now do you see what I mean?!” Vegeta’s arms are tensed and are firmly gripping the two barbed tails of Grah, holding firm and stopping the fiend half a metre from its quarry. Rancid breath pours onto the two frightened maidens as they live to see another day, Grah’s attention turned from the pitifully weak stood in front of him to the irritant grabbing onto him. The two thick trunks of the tails wrap around the proud Saiyan like boa constrictors enveloping a helpless antelope, their abrasive coating peeling off his skin in chunks. Swinging its bulk around Grah propels itself off the ground and backwards to Vegeta, a wry grin plays across his face.

His well used teeth chomp down and sever one of the tips of the tails encasing him, the gloop that is its blood spilling freely and sending sharp nerve impulses of pain to the former owner of two tails. The loss of a segment of a tail will not do much to deter such a power as Grah but all Vegeta needed was a distraction, something to completely take over the mind of his enemy and that came in the form of sharp pain. Grah is still hurtling towards him over the short distance that is its own body length but now not paying attention to the movements of the Saiyan.

Collapsing onto his back Vegeta coils his legs and slams them into the hulking mass above him. Both mighty kicks connecting Grah in each broad shoulder. Such a devastating blow would be enough to fell an entire solar system but Vegeta knows its all or nothing against an adversary the likes he has never before had to face. Amethyst light shines from his dusty boots, a split second later the sky is split by two massive beams. Gallick guns, two of them, one fired from each of his feet tear into Grah. Forcing the horror above him up into the heavens at speed, taken with the blasts the hostile creature shoots off unable to escape the ki blasts propulsing it. Whiplash exerts itself on the laid down Saiyan as tails hooked around him are wrenched forth with the rest of the unfortunate Grah, yanked back to his feet Vegeta watches as his perfectly executed plan reaches its finale.

Gohan and Gotenks land by his side watching the pretty fireworks as a moon is drilled clean through and the final explosion disintegrates another three of the planets now scarce satellites. Nothing but embers and shards of dense minerals drifting in the abyss of space can be seen by the three Saiyans in the aftermath of the Double Gallick Impact. Thankful no large chunks are left as meteors stream into the thin atmosphere of the unnamed and unknown planet far from anywhere anyone has ever mapped or charted in the galaxy.

Ryoko and Ayeka look at their prince, over a third of the skin on his body has been flayed off. The Saiyan jumpsuit around his arms and legs offering no protection to the jagged scales and the armour scratched with deep grooves. A sharp and sudden roar erupts forth from Vegeta as he increases his power level, ki surging around his body. The raw unbridled power of his heating up his flesh and cauterising his openly bleeding skin. With his wounds dealt with he turns to face the reasons why he had to resort to such desperate measures.

“Woo! Yeah, alright! We sure showed him, that’s what happens when you mess with the mighty Gotenks, hahaha.”

“Don’t let overconfidence blind you, youth is no excuse for that behaviour. Can you not still feel it? That thing out there is still alive and I’d wager it’s not going to go so easy on us anymore. Thanks to Vegeta we might have a little time to prepare before it comes back.” Gohan and Gotenks pay no attention to the lone adult Saiyan striding towards his women, they continue to look at the stars and the black night sky waiting for a flash of green to indicate the return of Grah. Charging up their power to the highest levels they have ever attained Gohan and Gotenks stand in their billowing fire vortexes of golden light.

“No more of your nonsense now, you are leaving this planet and getting out of my way.” Vegeta marches up to them in his battered state not in the mood for any arguments or ridiculous behaviour that these two women seem so fond of when he is around.

“No, I won’t go. I’m not going to leave you alone against that. What if you need me?” Ryoko seems absolute in her decision as does Ayeka who says words to a similar effect.

“This is not open for debate, it was an order not a request! Go, save yourselves.” Snapping at them his form disappears from in front of them. A swift karate chop to the base of their necks yields their minds into the blackness of unconsciousness, unable to argue or put up a fight he grabs them and Instant Transmission back to his home they have taken over. Dumping their prone forms by the feet of the other Z warriors he heads back not wanting to miss an opportunity to finish his fight with someone worthy of his time and skill.

Out of all the flaming debris of the moons burning up through the pitch black atmosphere one green speck among the red and oranges can be made out. Having survived Vegeta with not much damage done to its shoulders or arms Grah rockets back down to his home planet, hurtling like a bat out of hell to repay the one who dare stand up and defy its will. A green speck soon becomes a green comet, exponentially growing as it approaches closer and closer to where it was blasted out of orbit. One more long sustained roar tears through Vegeta’s throat as he pushes his body beyond all mortal limits into the final and most powerful form known in the universe. Standing beside his half son Vegeta joins him in the super Saiyan three form.

Plummeting towards the ground Grah’s small eyes pick up this large conflagration and light show, quick thinking on its part Grah decides to attack well before it can make out the humanoid bodies stood ready to take it down. Lighting the fires in its throat, it gathers energy in its expansive mouth in a ball designed for one thing. Spitting the blazing globe toward the planet below the ki attack soon takes on shape and starts enlarging more and more. For the Saiyans below it is as if daytime had come early but this is no Sun they want to come near them, if that Supernova like sphere impacts then they can wave goodbye to the planet they are on and all hope they have of beating the monstrosity bearing down on them.

Taking the initiative Vegeta flies off heading on an intercept course to try and stop the planet destroyer before it is too late as Gohan and Gotenks go to put down the bothersome animal once and for all. Muscular arms spread wide Vegeta grips onto the fiery ball of death in mid-air pushing with all his might against its tremendous power and momentum. Straining against its might he continues to push with every muscle in his body the gloves on his hands spontaneously combusting and his palms charring he fights on through the pain yelling. The orb is slowing down, steadily decreasing its speed towards its intended target but it is too little too late as Vegeta has already been pushed onto the ground itself.

Double teaming Grah, Gohan and Gotenks fight for all their worth in the upper atmosphere. Fist flying and feet impacting against the rock hard stomach of the beast. No longer having to contend with the tails of Grah both hanging limply they can easily breach its defences and start to inflict damage on Grah. This bout is not as one sided as they like however, for every other punch, kick or slam they deal unto Grah they suffer a vicious injury themselves from claws or coarse scales.

The air around him shimmering and ablaze from the great output of power, the prince of all Saiyans continues wrestling to save a planet from destruction for once. Such a powerful attack could never have been deflected away, this was the only course open – that or die with this godforsaken rock. His aura burning around him lighting up the horizons as it outshines the supernova blast in its intensity. He will not lose to this, he will stand his ground to the bitter end – if only the ground thought the same. Giving away and crumbling into gravel, Vegeta’s feet break through the floor beneath him. The very rock itself betraying him, every inch he falls into the planet’s crust is another inch closer to certain, inevitable doom.

A sudden yell and he expels a large amount of built up ki to destroy the plains he is sinking further into. The wasteland torn asunder, he hovers at the centre of a crater, a crater that still is not big enough for the attack he is trying to stop which has a slightly larger radius than that of the depression he has made. No time to make amends to his misjudged hole he plunges deeper as the earth swallows him, his only escape blocked by that of the unstoppable and unmovable force.

Grah is certainly not going to just lay down and die, despite the insurmountable odds of tackling two super Saiyans at once it is pushing them back. After but only a few moments of being engaged with them its observant mind has adapted to their fighting styles and is now capable of predicting their attacks no longer just reacting to them. They might still have better tactics and fighting abilities but most of their attacks he can’t even feel through his thickened hide, protected from any real damage Grah pushes the attack. Gohan and Gotenks have no protection from the death dealing scythes arcing cruelly through the air, Washu’s armour being like putting a wet sheet of paper up to stop a bullet.

Scars and blood begin to riddle both Gohan and Gotenks, neither able to back down or retreat due to their Saiyan heritage and for all their trouble most of the damage Grah has sustained is mainly self inflicted. Losing a claw when it stabbed Gohan’s bicep with it and Gohan rotating in the air rapidly to dislocate and dislodge the claw from the beast’s hand before tearing it from his flesh. Gohan and Gotenks take any opportunity they see to deflect the remaining claws of the beast back towards it, piercing it with the only thing that can seemingly injure it. Maybe a few more of its back spines and its left head crest is the sum of harm dealt by the two sons of Goku, nothing that is in the slightest bit of being life threatening or even a minor inconvenience.

Creating an inconceivable loud bellow out of the sheer frustration that it still hasn’t felled the pesky insects troubling it Grah elbows Gohan, the slower moving of the two, into his younger brother. Spiralling down they slam into the floor but as Gohan gets back to his feet he feels something is terribly wrong. His intuition was right. Behind him instead of one single entity, two people crawl out of the pit him and Gotenks made. The sands of time have conspired against the fused warrior and back to their original bodies they have gone, Goten and Trunks look at each other understanding the messy situation they are now in.

In their young age it is remarkable that they have attained the super Saiyan transformation but even that level of super power is dwarfed by that which they have lost in an instant. Drained and exhausted from the fight both children stumble about barely able to put one foot in front of the other. What appears to be a grin on the lipless face of the crocodilian snout of Grah stretches its sinister muzzle in disfiguring mirth, only one stands left to oppose it and that being the previously weaker one.

Bright green pulses faster and faster under the plates coating Grah, burning like currents of magma. Each throb of its building power echoed in the convulsing planet, Grah’s green colouring projecting outwards in a shimmering flame encapsulating all of its vast form. Emerald bonfires igniting from its very core light in a dazzling exhibition of the true power Grah has kept concealed, not in a secret ploy but for it did not know it could tap into such a wealth and bounty of strength.

Not boding well for Gohan he swallows down his feeling of foreboding and makes one last valiant effort against Grah, throwing everything he has into one punch. Channelling his might and fortitude into those four knuckles of his right hand his battle cry reaches Grah long after the resounding impact. Gohan manages to land the punishing blow dead centre on Grah’s expansive chest yet the agonised scream does not originate from his foe. Coughing up red onto the black and green of Grah Gohan looks down at the open wound in his stomach. Timed to perfection, Grah allowed itself to be hit so that for a split-second Gohan would be stopped perfectly still when his punch collides and rendered unable to move away.

Slamming its knee into the young Saiyan’s stomach the large prong fixed onto Grah’s patella slides straight through the stomach and tickles the spine of Gohan. A growl more akin to a laugh is the last sound Gohan hears when the fangs of Grah crush down on his shoulder, splintering bone and muscle alike before flinging him away like a ragdoll. The violent nature of the throw splits Gohan’s abdomen in two, laying eviscerated on the floor barely able to keep his vital organs within himself the light in his eyes lose focus and have trouble focusing on the demon prowling closer to finish off the one not long for this world.

His hands blackened and carbonised, the jumpsuit he was wearing melting and fusing to his skin Vegeta continues to ward off the supernova. His boots scraping through the base of the crater, millimetres from extinction Vegeta gives up playing games and gets serious. Quaking the world with shouts of rage as he summons to him all available ki to counteract the supernova of Grah’s attack it has long since forgotten about and for the first time the ball of death stops dead in its tracks.

“BIG BANG ATTAACCKK!” A massive blue bolt of energy collides against the many hued supernova. Vegeta is a master when it comes to ki or energy based attacks and not some amateur like this Grah, his blasts packs a hell of a punch as demonstrated by the supernova being one second about to detonate the planet and the next about to detonate another planet in another far off leg of the galaxy. Vegeta flickers out of the dimple on the face of the planet he is the saviour of and gathers up his fallen comrades, careful with the delicate state in which Gohan is verging on.

“You’ve fought well, there is no shame in this defeat. Your part is done now leave it to someone who knows what he’s doing.” Feeling like a taxi service as he lays down three more on his second home planet, waiting this time to make sure Gohan receives the immediate medical care of Dende and maybe a Senzu bean. It’s getting all too much for Chichi, her husband and two beloved sons all fallen in battle and clinging on grimly to their last vestiges of life. Before he leaves Tien throws a Senzu bean his way and god does he need it, he snaps it in two between his crispy fingers and discards it returning to Grah with no others to obstruct his fight. Only a coward with no honour would accept such aid mid battle, an affront to his sense of self he would prefer to perish than accept such aid.

The only two beings still left on this heavenly body face each other. A standoff, neither making a move towards the other. Both just watching the other, watching and waiting … waiting for the right moment. Baring their gritted teeth, bracing their legs and tensing their muscles Vegeta and Grah annihilate a hundred hectares in a heartbeat. Their voices joined in choir, auras radiating off of them to block out the starlight above them and in perfect synchronisation the two fated destroyers raise their power to the max. No floating rocks or crumbling mountains just complete ionisation of all surroundings before as one they vanish from all perception.

Islands of rock millions of years in the making shatter, mountains collapse and tumble down and fissures wide enough to engulf nations mar the surface of the whole planet. Such a catastrophic catastrophe as blasts and punches from the two fighters inflict such devastation to the surroundings, whole continents set ablaze – swallowed whole in infernos. Nuclear warheads would seem like bringing a dull knife to a high calibre rifle duel compared to the mighty explosions dotting the landscape, scarring it to such a degree that even if this planet were to survive for several aeons it would never heal these deep wounds gouging it. Global temperatures rise 10 degrees centigrade over one second which goes unnoticed by the duo of living things left battling it out.

Moving in the hyper-time of faster than light speeds, Vegeta implements every battle technique, strategy or combo of moves he has ever thought of as he exhausts his arsenal against the horror that hardly flinches from each attack landed. Blows traded between the two produce huge earthquake causing shockwaves. Mile long tunnels in the planet appear as one fighter then the next is thrown through the ground. Fighting on a different plane all together than anything alive it goes on for hours, dragging on with neither giving into the wounds they receive.

The fighters appear back in view clashing two almighty beams of raw ki, one a brilliant shining gold the other a dark and twisted jade connecting in a blaze of which the universe hasn’t witnessed since it first began. Directing such power through his incinerated palms is no mean feat for Vegeta, each molecule of power singes more and more of his ravaged hands but not in a way in which his nerve endings are toasted to the point so that pain is not transmitted. A beam clash is always a difficult position to be in, especially with tremendous pain screaming at you from trying to stop yourself being disintegrated by Grah.

Instant Transmission is Vegeta’s only bet to escape Grah’s blast, both weakened by the previous fighting but only the Saiyan appears to be handicapped by it. Now suddenly behind the creature a rapid volley of shots fire off into the flanks of Grah, two knobbly scales smash onto the floor below revealing more of the horror’s vibrant pulsing core. Grah dives completely unfazed through the barrage and into the waiting trap laid cunningly for it. The mindless beast charged headlong without thinking through the soot and smoke of the blasts that hit it not suspecting Vegeta would have instant transmissioned again. In the time it takes for the raging Grah’s eyes to clear the obscuring vapours it is far too late for it.

Landing on its back and scrabbling over its scaly hide like a rock face as he uses his smaller size against the beast, Vegeta works his way towards the one chink in Grah’s armour – the missing scales only just shattering on the cold hard floor. Being grappled from behind Grah goes berserk, bucking and shaking to rid itself of Vegeta. Only when it feels something touching the gaping hole in its side does its actions become frantic, great arms lashing at its back and luckily for Vegeta he took out the use of its tails long ago or he would have a hard time dodging now. One of Vegeta’s arms is now by its target and a swift punch takes it into the beast.

“GRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!” One of Grah’s arms explodes off at the shoulders as Vegeta ejects himself from the rabid monster. The Saiyan did plan on sawing off the limb with a blade made of ki but the other oversized arm of his foe was getting dangerously close to ripping his back into shreds, forced to act on impulse has cost the Saiyan. Not a whole limb so it was still worth it but Vegeta’s right hand is a bloody mess, most of the blood not his but the crimson life juice of his is spilling freely from where the explosion he set off cleanly detached three of his fingers. A finger and thumb is no good for making a fist, the arm might as well be useless to him.

An aftermath of feral rage brought on from the searing pain at its shoulder drives Grah into a frenzied rage of unrelenting fury. Reckless slashes and swipes allow Vegeta some room to attack Grah but such an assault is leaving him hard pressed just to keep his head attached. Tapering claws rake his chest and legs where the fatigue of sustaining the super Saiyan 3 transformations gets the better of the prince and soon it is hard to make out either fighter for the gore spattered everywhere. Covering them in a thick coat. Blood loss and extreme exhaustion slow down Vegeta and Grah in their epic duel. Punches become sluggish and legs leaden in their movements. Such a battle should have been over in a matter of minutes but it is now entering its fourth hour and neither can retain the pace for much longer.

Their battle dragging both down to the ground the prince and the fiend wrestle. Vegeta’s good arm holding back the gnashing mandibles from mauling his face whilst his wounded hand is left with the Herculean task of keeping back the one healthy arm Grah has at its disposal. Muscles taught and feet digging into the ground Vegeta head-butts Grah’s neck hoping that maybe there is a slim chance it has a vital organ there or something to be destroyed. Pounding away as they both stand unmoving Vegeta’s sight blurs and he immediately discontinues his futile attack which had a higher likelihood of concussion than success, blood drips from his ruined forehead into his grim eyes focused on one thing alone.

Such an annoyance as the one person it can’t overpower has to be dealt with, Grah utilises one lone foot and turns the tide of battle in its favour. Vegeta’s calf was not ready for a foot long spike to be rammed into it, the foot claw of Grah severing tendons and muscles as it rips its way clean through the flesh of his leg. Clean as a butcher’s slice Vegeta’s calf hangs on by a whisper of a thread, copious amounts of sanguine flowing out of him. Precious drops he cannot afford to lose soiling the floor. A fit of blind rage engulfs Vegeta, still interlocked with Grah he once again turns the air into explosive plasma. Searing both injured parties flesh and wounds but consequently wiping out a humongous chunk of the dying world.

A simple lesson in geography for Vegeta arrives at the wrong time – massive hole created in a planet usually leads to a volcanic eruption. Lava spurts and spews forth from beneath the wrestling pair, that is until one of them suffers a severe misfortune. Burning magma splashes onto the Saiyan’s mutilated back, boiling the flesh from his bones, giving off a smell that only seems to arouse Grah’s hunger to beat Vegeta more. Slowly being roasted alive, unable to rid himself of the lava for if he were to let go Grah would be upon him and it would be game over. Such pain, pain of which he has dealt with before but not all at once; lost digits on his hand, innumerable scratches, scars and deep lacerations, his calf severed from his tibia, hands burned and flayed to the point which they don’t even work and to top it all off lava melting its way onto his spine.

It all becomes too much for a single man to bear and for just a fraction of a second his mind forgets the battle and all it knows is the world of pain it has been dunked head first into. Screaming in the throes of his tormented and tortured body he fails to retain a hold on the opening jaws of death. A sweet deliverance awaiting him at the end of the tunnel that is its mouth, a light. A bright glowing crimson light growing as it comes to greet him. The second supernova blast of Grah this time does not fail in hitting its target and in that moment the battle is decided.

Flickering out of existence a miniscule bubble of azure light dies in the distance having been previously shielded from view by the mammoth pieces of debris falling off of the crumbling world. Smouldering in the distance Vegeta Instant Transmissions back onto terra firma, his destroyed body collapsing into the dirt. Dust and ash seeps into the wounds that litter his prone form, harsh stinging adding to his mind already overloaded with terrible pain. He has nothing left to give. Every ounce of energy has been sapped from him and he can no longer keep himself in super Saiyan 3, debilitated from how much it has sapped at his enormous reserves of strength.

The only patches of skin he has left on his desecrated and scorched lumps of flesh are on the left hand side of his face. A face that has only one blind eye, the other evaporated instantly along with his nose, ears and most of his cheeks leaving scarred and smoking pits where those features should be. Lungs seared from temperatures that would melt any known metal rasp as ragged shallow breaths tear into his body, the simple act of staying alive now a more challenging fight then staving off Grah an hour ago. His heart beating bloodily and in plain sight with his pectoral muscles gone and rib cage exposed to the open air. A leg and an arm incinerated to stumps, left only with the arm ruined from his previous attack on the beast and a leg with all its bones shattered and broken he is abandoned with not much hope in defending himself.

Out in the distance he senses the one who did this to him, he cannot see it or hear it for both of those senses are now wrenched from him along with their sensory organs. Slowly lumbering towards its downed prey Grah approaches, prowling with the patience of a guaranteed kill. Predatorily stalking until Vegeta will give up the ghost and then be consumed into the belly of the beast. No longer bleeding out with all his scars and wounds now horrible burns, Vegeta waits in resignation for his fate … or so Grah thinks.

In a flare of crimson flames, Vegeta proves to Grah he is not dead yet and won’t go quietly into the night. A garbled mess of words that might have been Kaioken are shouted by Vegeta as he spirals into his final assault. Grah was not expecting this, no-one would have expected an attack from someone in that mutilated state and so Grah had powered down on his way to the spoils of victory. The extremity that was a foot crashes into the right side of Grah’s chest staggering it backwards as Vegeta deals with the consequences of his kick that he is counting on. Such force of the impact into a broken limb sends lightning bolts of pain shooting through him as it pushes a shard of his tibia through his shattered knee, an improvised blade for an improvised attack.

Bending his knees then jerking it to the side he slices open the throat of Grah, bright viscous amber spilling out. His one arm smacks the beasts head to the side and somersaulting in mid-air he brings down his fragmented weapon down sharply between the four eyes of his foe. Phasing through the huge beast he Instant Transmits repeatedly to stab at the thing that dare to challenge his strength. Holes and punctures maculate Grah before one final kick tries to sever the beasts head clean from its shoulders.

The leg slams ineffectually into Grah, having recovered from the initial attack it is ready now to end Vegeta, darting back at speeds that the prince can no longer replicate. Teeth rip into his midriff rupturing the few vital organs he had left, crunching through the spine of the Saiyan listening to the sound it makes and savouring it– like dry crackers being stepped on. Flinging away the defeated Saiyan into the closest rock-face, smashing entombed in the solid wall of the mountain Vegeta is too weak and weary to pry himself out to freedom. Struggling to stay conscious, the pain from before being diminished but only as all nerve signals from his lower half have ceased due to paralysation, Vegeta’s body starts to shut down one cell at a time no longer able to support its existence. Facing his foe he welcomes an end to his wretched life.

Groaning as the last dregs of being dead to the world empty out of her waking head Ryoko rouses herself, her neck protesting against looking about the room. Appears she was placed down on the sofa next to Ayeka who was also forcibly evicted from Vegeta’s side and awakening. Everyone appears to be in the room transfixed by a screen to the side of Ryoko, even Chichi seems to be paying more attention to it as she cuddles and comforts the still unconscious Goku. The first Saiyan on Earth isn’t the only one getting attention from his loved one with Videl fussing over Gohan, a terrible scar racing down his abdomen as if he were gutted like a fish. Although Videl seems more upset about the disfiguring flaw on Gohan’s face than the one that nearly ended him.

Following their eyes the two women turn gently to face the television screen to see what al the fuss is about. One camera is left transmitting but is no longer attached to any armour having been separated from it for quite a while, it lays in just the right position to see the final outcome. At first it’s hard to make out, they can see Grah stood and slowly walking somewhere with one of its gorilla like arms gone and copious amounts of blood openly oozing from many wounds but there is some other there as well. They struggle for a few seconds trying to identify the close to death man, body mangled and maimed in every sense of the word yet one feature still remains. A cold sense of dread chills them to the bones seeing the raven black spiked hair still standing proud and tall over the ebonised, ravaged face of Vegeta.

“Are you two feeling Ok, I don’t think he hit you too hard but … well there’s nothing we can do now. Only Goku here could take us back to the planet but that goof is still out cold, I’m sorry.” Yamcha approaches the two women seeing the open distress and dismay blatantly displayed on their faces. He wishes he could forget the things he saw on that screen, no-one not even someone who had a heart and soul as black as the proud prince deserves the punishment he has endured. Trying to comfort the trembling Ayeka he puts his hand gently on her shoulder.

“NO! He’s wrong, he needs me! I have to help him.” Ryoko teleports out of the house, out of the solar system and inadvertently bringing the two people that had a physical link to her – Ayeka and Yamcha. Immediately arriving back on the crumbling remains of Grah’s homeworld in plain sight of the reckoner of the planet, its four eyes fixing onto them ready for more sport to entertain it. Ayeka was not expecting teleportation or prepared herself for the nauseating experience, the all too familiar sensation of her stomach upheaving in protest rooting her to the spot. Ryoko’s only sole focus is the blind Saiyan slowly turning his head to face the three he has sensed returning to the planet, a harsh rasp escaping from his throat could be anything an undistinguishable noise– a warning, a plea or a shout of fury.

Taking the one shot he has the only warrior left rushes into the blindside of Grah. Yamcha’s signature wolf fang fist savagely beats at the softened up beast, his fingers and knuckles flaying to the bone with each strike that slams into his foe. The wounded demon has no time for such petty things. With one swipe of its remaining arm Yamcha’s left leg is swiftly demolished into a pulpy mess, the same leg that all those years ago was snapped in two by Tien. Sprawling in the dust, downed and writhing holding onto the annihilated limb, Yamcha is forced to watch as Grah bears down on his defenceless prey.

In the short span of time that Yamcha managed to buy for them both Ryoko and Ayeka have hurriedly rushed to Vegeta’s side to prise him out of the imprisoning boulders. Coughing up bright crimson from his lungs drowning in his own blood, Vegeta struggles to speak. Every breath he takes is harder than the last, his voice box charred to a crisp. Giving up on the common form of communication Vegeta switches to telepathy to speak directly into the minds of the women fruitlessly trying to save him life.

“Go … leave me here … save yourselves.” This brief message is about all he can manage to get out as he tries to shrug them off, the humiliation of such weaklings being required to help him grating nearly as much as the all encompassing pain lighting up his body like flares. His Saiyan sense is tingling, Grah is on the move again and at speed. Fed up of being messed about by these invaders of its planet and hungry for the taste of their sweet meat the monster charges on all threes looking fairly comical as it tries to learn how to run with a missing limb. The galloping sound of its claws tearing up the ground alert the two space faring women to the beast bearing down on them. They will not shy away or cower in terror like last time, this time they will stand and give their lives if necessary if it has the slightest glimmer of hope at saving the life of the man they love.

Bright cerulean shimmers into existence, a barrier of the highest magnitude to try and deter or slow down Grah. Glowing like the sun, a red hot sword sparks into life ready to slay the beast. Both women stand ready and prepared for their final stand as Grah crouches into a leap flying high into the air towards its quarry. Standing fast they ready themselves as their fates are sealed, a large black shadow looming over them and engulfing them into darkness. Air begins to fizz in front of them as a figure appears before them hovering off of the ground with his useless leg limply flopping beneath him. Swinging back his one surviving hand into the best fist he can make out of it he roars at the top of the lungs as he brings it crashing down into the beast not ready for him.

Both Grah and Vegeta are too slow to react to the speed of the other and wallop into each other smashing the floor beneath them. Grah’s form pounced on top of this most worthy adversary, yet one thing is not right. Vegeta’s last ditch effort has paid off. Jaws clamp down onto the fist shoved down the gullet of Grah, grasping onto the tongue tasting his cooked flesh. Pinned to the floor, Vegeta’s lips would break into a smirk if they hadn’t been fried. Swirling mists of yellow, gold and bronze encapsulate the downed Saiyan as he once again takes up the mantle of Super Saiyan reducing the amount of energy he has to stay alive with drastically.

“Kraagraahtru.” Grah utters its first and last word.

“. .INAA HIINE A-ACK!” Complementing the beasts colour of choice perfectly, a green shot explodes through Grah. Its jaws and skull detonating with an almighty bang, rending it apart until just the Saiyan’s hand is left next to a charred orange stump of a thick neck. A fresh coat of amber sap drips onto Vegeta as his arm flops down to his side, all his energy expended. Resting his head on the hard cold stones trying to catch his breath as anaerobic respiration will only let you survive for so long. The broken man waits trying to recuperate as his hair and eyes transition back to their natural colouration.

It’s dead. Grah is dead. They can’t believe it, he has done it. Ecstatic with joy Ayeka and Ryoko rush to the brimstone smelling body of Vegeta to congratulate him and stop him from dying. Gleefully running towards him, uncaring about the fact that they are on a failing planet quickly losing its atmosphere or how far beyond any help Vegeta is they sprint as fast as their legs can carry them to be with him. Yamcha has managed to get up, flying slowly and steadily to keep the weight off of his mangled leg with every slight movement reminding him why he should leave the fighting to Saiyans.

“AAAAARRGHH.” Digging into the gaping open wound of his chest are the talons of Grah, decapitation not hindering its pursuit of vengeance on Vegeta. Lungs and heart puncturing again and again, ribs snapped like twigs to penetrate and impale yet more of his organs. Still more crimson life juice squirts out of Vegeta, not much remaining in him and were it not for the third degree burns sealing up his wounds then he would be a desiccated husk. Pistons rising and falling, rising and falling pushing him beyond the brink. Coughing up blood and gore to try and purge his flooded lungs, the prince sees that he won’t get out that easily. Fatally wounded, he accepts what he has to do. Yamcha and the women freeze, immobilised in horror and shock as the Saiyan continues his battle for survival.

“YAMCHA! … Get those two far away from here now. I’m going to make sure this ends here and it won’t be pretty. Go! Fly to safety and make sure they go.” Echoing in the bandit’s mind is Vegeta’s voice calling from his telepathic powers again, Vegeta’s mouth quivering in desperation only able to express his hurt in garbled gurgling and his blinded eye staring blankly at the stars. Grabbing the women forcefully before they blindly carry on towards Vegeta, Yamcha jets off to the only horizon left to him that isn’t the edge of the world. Getting further and further away, distancing himself from what is to come as the two interlocked foes become a tiny speck.

“Vegeta! VEGETAAAAA! Let me go, he needs me. Vegeta!” Ryoko kicks viciously at the damaged leg of Yamcha. Somehow through the spasm of agony shooting through his body he continues to hold on as stars dot his vision, that is until Ryoko simply phases straight through his arm and flies at top speed back to her prince. Ayeka is still in his clutches unable to escape as she observes what happens next.

Teeth gritted in a smile stretching from ear to ear thanks to his lack of cheeks or flesh his burnt face cracks as it contorts its stiffened leather into a grimace. He has one finger left on his one working appendage, the middle finger. Flipping the birdie to the writhing headless thing still stabbing at his chest cavity he belches out as much blood as he can for his final words. A small pinpoint of bright white appearing on his fingertip.

“Yippee-ki-ay MOTHERFUCKER !” A white pillar of light shines forth from his finger, a technique Nappa used to destroy a city – the volcano explosion. Engulfed in a brilliant white light both he and the creature are set ablaze by the life force energy of Vegeta he has sacrificed to detonate himself for a second time. Ashen faced Ryoko and Ayeka stare at where Vegeta was but now is just a column shooting upwards, an attack Vegeta would have scoffed at the day before as nothing but to the two entwined in its midst it is potent enough for the job. Despair settles its heavy burden on the two as the attack ends and the last smoking crater to disfigure the planet billows cremated flesh into the sky.

At ground zero Ryoko lands and Ayeka is dropped off by the air bound Yamcha to see the results of the day of fighting. Flaming chunks of scale and solidified amber rain down out of the sky, yet go unnoticed. Having already been burned all over before setting off his final attack Vegeta’s body is closer to fossilisation at this point, all flesh gone and what remains is little more than incinerated bones and a head. His head is basically all that he managed to protect of himself, but without a body his brain is not long before it shuts down completely.

Tears drip down the romantic rivals’ faces, such anguish gripping their hearts as they look on at the remains of who they met just a few days ago but has had such a big impact on them. A faint whisper in the ether, a small echo of an echo … the quiet whisper of the damned.

“ Go …” Rebounding in their minds Vegeta continues to contact the trio stood over his defunct form.

“NO! I won’t leave you, I- I’ll take you back to the green dude and he can heal you, you’ll see it’ll all be OK.” Ryoko is desperate, she opened her heart to someone for the first time in her long life and to have it cruelly snatched away from her before it could blossom into something magical and wondrous is destroying her.

“My body is beyond repair … the strings tying me to life are frayed and only a single strand remains. I am dying, there is nothing for Dende to heal only a few parts of my mind are still alive. I accept this warriors death, the honour of dying in such a battle is how I have always wanted to die … this time I have succeeded in vanquishing my foe before my death and for that I couldn’t ask for more. I go unto my fate again, damnation eternal… Stay strong the two of you.” His quiet communique steadily getting more and more hushed and muted.

“A-Ayeka would you do me the honour of forsaking your wish with the dragonballs to bring me back … I need to come back, for my son and – and for you lot.” To her alone does he send this message, her heart openly weeping. Too young to have experienced any heartache or grief before, this first time is torturing her tender soul.

“Ryoko, I owe this victory to you. What you did was reckless and headstrong … I would have done the same exact thing. Thank you.” As a space pirate she should be accustomed to death but this cuts too close, ripping open her heart with claws of sorrow.

“ Yamcha we never saw eye to eye but as you are Trunks’ godfather I have to task you with watching over my son whilst I am… indisposed. Tell him I was always proud to call him my son … and don’t let these two or Washu burn down my house.” The death of a fellow Z-warrior doesn’t move Yamcha that much, he knows that death is always something they have to deal with and Vegeta was responsible for his first death anyway.

“ I go now unto my fathers … in the company of women I have come to l-” Vegeta’s spirit disembarks, cast off into the afterlife and delivered unto its fate. Death cutting him off mid sentence. Grief being the only sound being heard, open heartbroken mourning silencing the rumbles and groans as the planet enters its final throes. Yamcha gives Ryoko and Ayeka a minute out of respect yet he cannot afford to wait any longer, without Ryoko he has no chance of getting home and he doesn’t like the prospect of asphyxiating when all the oxygen drifts away from the dying planet.

He once again puts his hand on Ayeka’s trembling shoulder. This time though she lashes out at the touch slapping it away from her, trying to turn her hurt into an easier to deal with emotion and failing as she sinks back into despair. Retracting his arm he hovers backwards looking at the magma pouring out of the planet’s core into the blackness.

“It’s time for us to leave.” Yamcha’s words go ignored, they don’t care for what he says despite it pertaining to their certain death if they don’t act quickly.

“Ryoko, it’s time for us to return. You are the only one who can teleport and do this.” More force in his tone, Yamcha tries to emphasise the importance of haste. All Ryoko does in response is to face away, her silvery cyan fringe shadowing her stricken face, salty rivers flowing from her eyes. Ayeka continues to struggle with the emotions welling up and bursting from her.

“T-This is all your fault! I-if it w-weren’t f-for you then h-he would still be … still be a-alive!” Ayeka’s tears stream down her face openly as she converts her excess sadness into wrath and rage, wanting to have a scapegoat to blame. Ryoko’s sobs become louder wails still, cut deep by the accusations of the princess.

“Hey now, that is out of order. You crossed the line Ayeka. Her actions are probably the only thing that gave Vegeta the opportunity to kill that thing and die at peace with himself.” The spiteful glare of the emotionally distressed and broken down princess tries to whittle him down, she can’t deal with people arguing with her, not now in such a delicate state.

“H-how dare you speak like that to the high princess of Jurai!” Ayeka is snapping, her mind not being able to handle the dreadful situation she is forced to deal with. The desert bandit looks unimpressed at such a childish outburst and bends down to inspect his leg, it looks nasty and the blood is darkening and congealing so he decides to reset it. Painfully cracking the splinters and slithers of bone into what might roughly resemble the position they should be in he looks back up to Ayeka.

“Vegeta was just like that when he first came to Earth.” Ayeka falters, looking as though he had just slapped her in the face. Her hysterics stop and sinking back into the overwhelming melancholy holding tight on her heart.

“This planet hasn’t got much long left, I would say 5 minutes max and then you don’t have to worry anymore for we’ll be joining Vegeta. Ryoko we have to go now!” Yamcha hobbles in a twisted limp turning around Ryoko and pulling Ayeka with him trying to snap some sense into them. The she-pirate raises her head with her lips quivering as she closes her eyes trying to forget the sight of Vegeta in his final seconds, a memory she will never be allowed to forget. FFPT.

Chichi mothers and awkwardly attempts to comfort Trunks, a child distraught and devastated at the loss of his father, now orphaned by fate. He could hardly deal with the death of his mother and now with this thrust onto him so suddenly and unexpectedly he badly needs the loving care of an adult. PFFT. The trio returns. Ayeka slumps down onto her knees and Ryoko quickly vanishes off out of the house to be alone. Trunks sees Yamcha stood their on his own, the perfect target to unleash such things a child should not have to contend with at his age.

“Why didn’t you save him?! WHY?! Why …” Trunks rushes Yamcha, weakly pounding at his stomach through wet eyes wanting an answer to the roll of the dice he has received from life. Absently Yamcha scratches the locks of hair on the back of his head looking down at the bereaved one now in his care, feeling some slight guilt on his part that if he were stronger maybe it could have been prevented.

“Compared to Saiyans whatever strength I have is insignificant. Look what happened when I tried to intervene, there was no way I could have done anything to save your father.” At the mention of his wound Dende comes over to fulfil his duty by mending and healing the leg, showing some signs that the large amount of healing he has had to administer is taking its toll on him.

“I’m sorry Trunks, even if I were there I couldn’t have aided Vegeta. That single blow that it landed on Goku shattered his spinal column, ribcage and caused severe haemorrhaging … the injuries he sustained and still managed to keep on fighting astound me.” Dende then leaves Yamcha and Trunks to go back and stand by Mr. Popo ready for this day to end. Little Sasami runs up to her sister and hugs her tightly, both needing the warmth of each other to stave off the cold sorrow yearning to tear them to pieces. The adventure now over and such an ugly aftermath left the warriors decide it is time for them to leave this house who’s owner has passed on.

Goku, Chichi, Gohan, Goten and Videl head out as one disappearing as soon as they leave the doorway. A grim shadow hanging over Goku knowing he is the last survivor of his race and if he had not humiliated himself with such an embarrassing defeat his friend would still be here. Popo and Dende hop onto the magic carpet parked on the turf by the entranceway to the household also vanishing into thin air, returning back to the lookout to pick up the perpetual job of looking over the Earth. The young family of Krillin, 18 and Marron start to fly off to Kame island before stopping as Krillin remembers Roshi who is running after them and picks him up so as not to leave him behind unable to get home. Piccolo and 17 both go their separate nomadic ways off to nowhere in particular leaving just one person left to say goodbye to.

“I wish it were under better circumstances but goodbye buddy, see ya ‘round some other time Ok. Oh, say hi to Launch for me. Bye mate.” Yamcha waves off Tien after a firm handshake with the tag-along Chiaotzu following in the triclops’ wake.

Sighing Yamcha steps into the accommodation he will now have to look after in the stead of the deceased. Looking around at the hurt that today’s mission caused. The universe was saved and it only cost one life, but is that ever a price that should be paid. A huddled group of Washu with the other youngsters on the sofa, the cushions of it swiftly becoming damp from the salty waters of sadness. The soft sounds of Washu attempting to stifle her anguish and stay strong for the children who need her.

The two women who’s feelings have been affected the hardest, bar Trunks, are outside. The elegant form of Ayeka stood staring into the depths of the lake, reflecting on her true feelings and the heartbreak which makes the waters look as shallow as a dried up puddle. Ryoko is perched on top of the roof, holding her knees close to herself. Hiding her head in her thighs to stop anyone seeing the woe contorting her face, he wouldn’t have wanted her to be seen like this. He would have despised any show of weakness such as this, which just makes it worse for her, knowing he would disapprove of her behaviour.

“Well, this is going to be a long month.” With that Yamcha closes the door to leave the women to their own devices. He’ll fetch his things later but for now he knows he can’t leave the household in this state. A dark night to follow a dark day descends unnoticed.

Rising forth from a sleepless and restless night who’s fault lies entirely on the preferences of that whom the bed belongs to. A mattress like bricks tempered with reinforced steel draped with such a flimsy and worn out duvet that it took the sleeper half the night trying to get comfortable before giving up and resigning himself over to the fact that a good night’s rest will not be had by him. His back clicks loudly and uncaring as it tries to recover from what it had to endure.

Brushing back his shaggy thatch of pitch-dark hair out of his face, Yamcha opens his eyes to the second day after Vegeta’s death and such a day that seems wholly fitting for the mood of the other residents. Cracking the calloused knuckles of his gnarled hands he flings back the curtains to survey what the world has in store for him on this dreary day. Thick grey mists have drifted down from the mountains and hills, formed from the transpiration of the many deciduous trees in the forests growing up the foothills of said mountains. The basin of the lake has been altogether veiled by the blanket of moisture hanging heavy this morning, the Sun’s rays bearing down on it doing little to disturb the shrouding fog.

Turning back from the window the reformed bandit rummages through his bag of clothes, living out of a suitcase as unpacking his belongings into this room seems too much of an invasion. Another one of his orange training gis will have to do. Tying the blue belt tight and making sure it’s nice and secure, Yamcha leaves Vegeta’s room down the noiseless corridor. No sounds come from either Ayeka or Ryoko’s rooms, neither door having been opened since it happened. Padding down the stairs, finally he hears some life in this dead house and the tempting aroma of food wafting towards his quivering nostrils.

Humming to herself and in a world of her own Sasami carries on her household activities seemingly oblivious to the affliction of bereavement that has stricken all the other females of the house. Setting up a small little breakfast for her and for any others who have woken up the same time as this early bird. A sincere smile as she turns to see Yamcha leaning in the doorway observing her cook such delicacies that grace his stomach far from as often as he would like. Hungry like the wolf he goes over to the happy child and helps her with the last few steps of preparing food and carries over the dishes onto the table for her.

“Wow, this looks amazing Sasami. I’m sure glad you’re around ‘cos I truly am an awful cook and Puar can testify for that. I wouldn’t want you working yourself too hard though, but it’s a good job Bulma equipped this house with nanobots to do the other chores. I remember her when she was inventing these, that was back in the days when me and her were together and we had no idea what Saiyans were.” Yamcha and Sasami sit down and breakfast together, their moods not affected or dulled by the surrounding bleakness.

Two balls of fluff streak round the corner and dart around the table legs, one blue and the other brown. The two cat-like creatures engaged in the playful antics of a game of chase, with Puar’s ability to fly giving him a slight edge over the land based method of travel that Ryo-ohki is forced to use unless she transforms into a spaceship – which thankfully she hasn’t done yet. Darting back and forth in-between the chairs and legs of Yamcha and Sasami as the human and Juraian finish off their food before the critters tire of their antics and settle down.

“Hey Yamcha.” The blue cat-like transformer hovers up next to his long time pal floating over his shoulder as Ryo-ohki bounds onto the table meowing loudly at a bowl on the table. Yamcha looks over at the bowl of orange root vegetables.

“Hey there Puar, glad to see you’ve made a friend. So … is this what you want Ryo-ohki?” Lifting up one of the carrots from the bowl the desert raider looks at the cabbit. The pleading eyes, pricked up ears and stare fixed on the vegetable dangling from his grasp is enough for him to deduce the will of Ryo-ohki. Dropping the carrot onto the table in front of the overjoyed brown fur ball watching as she pounces on the defenceless taproot viciously. Nothing is left of it, stalk and all has gone down the gullet of the content herbivore.

“I didn’t know you and Trunks’ mom were boyfriend and girlfriend, what went wrong?” Sasami’s childish inquisitiveness is getting the better of her and Yamcha thinks how he has asked himself that same question so many times. Scratching his messy hair he turns casually to look to Puar for a little help to find him gone chasing Ryo-ohki again, taking a deep breath he says the first thing that pops into his head.

“Oh well y’know, it uh … well it was silly adult stuff.” Totally winging it he is so relieved that Sasami actually bought that lame answer.

“ Hmm, Ayeka talks about those quite a lot. Wonder what’s so special about being a grown up.” Sasami leaves him with that as she stands up having finished eating as her busybody self is clearing up and getting ready to wash the pots and pans. Leaning back on his chair Yamcha thinks to himself how he just dodged a bullet when the other child of the house silently steps into the room. Not announcing himself, Trunks sits down at the far end of the table and stares at the food set before him. His Saiyan appetite deserted him the same time his parents did.

“How you doing champ?” Acting as a semi-responsible guardian Yamcha tries to initiate conversation with the withdrawn youth. Simply shrugging Trunks doesn’t acknowledge him. Merely messing with the food on his plate, stirring it in endless circles.

“If you’d like we could pop into the training chamber for a nice little bit of sparring, aye? Come on, I know how much you Saiyans enjoy your fisticuffs so whaddya say?” Without a word Trunks abruptly stands and leaves the room, marching off having not touched any of his breakfast. Shaking his head Yamcha looks over at Sasami with a look on his face saying ‘well I tried’.

“God he just won’t let me in, can you believe he’s still going to school even though I told him I’d let him bunk off? I lost my parents too at a young age … I know what he’s going through. It’s not something someone should have to deal with alone like I did, just me and the wolves of the desert … it was meeting Puar really that got me through.” Watching the anthropomorphic being flying past the doorway Yamcha opens himself up to his locked away past. The long years of sand and the life of a highwayman – simpler times where all he cared about was getting food to make it through to the next day.

“Sasami be honest with me here, how do you think Trunks is doing?”

“Umm well I don’t know. I think he’s managing because he knows that Vegeta will be wished back by the dragonballs and that he’s gone to a better place.” Yamcha can only hazard a weak attempt at a smile at that last statement, he can’t correct her and break this misconception she has that damnation eternal wasn’t the only thing waiting for him beyond the grave.

“Well less than 30 days and then this nightmare will all be over, give me a shout if either Ryoko or Ayeka come out of their rooms … they look as though they’ve been hit harder than Trunks from it.” Sasami nods at him agreeing to the favour he has asked of her as he stands up and ambles his way out of the kitchen. Pausing to check his bearings in the unfamiliar house he finds his way to the living room – embarrassingly only a few feet down the hallway. A sound stops him on his way to the training chamber.

Creaking open by a sliver, long delicate hands pop around the door and gently push it fully open. Turning around to see who it is Yamcha watches as the figure steps from the shadows of her pocket dimension. His jaw drops as this perfect figure of a woman steps forth in front of him. His eyes start at he feet and work their way up, absorbing every facet of her. Long slender legs that go all the way up balancing a gorgeous hourglass figure.

“Why hey there babe, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure …wait … WASHU! Wh-What?! B-but how, have you been in the hyperbolic time chamber or something?” Alarm bells are ringing in Yamcha’s head, he might have just made a move on her accidently and although it would be a good twist of fortune to steal one of Vegeta’s women from him it would also be incredibly dangerous. Panicking and confused as to why her body is now that of a woman in her prime not some scrawny schoolgirl he looks about for an escape route.

“Teehee, oh stop it you. My you know how to make a girl blush. Well since you asked so politely I guess I can tell you, I can alter my age on a whim but pray tell what is a hyperbolic time chamber?” Giggling from the way he was checking her out she unabashed steps closer to him. Feeling very awkward and uncomfortable when the bandit is usually so confident around those of the opposite sex he doesn’t know where to look with her just there.

“It uh was an interdimensional thingy room on Kami’s lookout which we all trained in before the Cell games. A year in the room is only a day in the real world but unfortunately it was lost in the fight with Majin Buu. I was just about to go and have a look around and test out this wonderful training chamber I’ve heard so much about, you made it didn’t you?” His flattery does not go amiss and she finds it so relieving for someone to actually notice her hard work and not threaten her life.

“Time dilation, wouldn’t that cause accelerated aging though?” Somehow Washu managed to say that without a hint of irony.

“Yep, got an added two years onto myself doing that, but what can you do? Maybe sometime I might start to need some of that age control myself but there’s still life in this old dog yet.” Leaving her now and ending the conversation he walks towards the source of Vegeta’s power, the room in which he uses to push his body to the limits. Two doors close as he enters the training room Washu creeps off back into her laboratory switching on a set of monitors. Flicking through the clutter of background programmes she brings up the feeds from the monitoring equipment.

“Looks like I’ve found myself a nice new guinea pig to play with … well so far looks pretty normal but with the company he keeps I bet he’s got a few surprises up his sleeves.” Mumbling to herself she observes his actions as he investigates this most curious room he has found himself in. Twirling one of the red locks of her hair, her mind analyses every single nuance and motion he makes performing such stupendous calculations as she tries to measure his power and strength to that of his predecessor.

“Heh, I bet with this thing I could overtake Krillin. I don’t know much about stuff like this but I’d have to say Washu’s done a pretty good job … nearly as pretty as herself.” Yamcha obliviously says this not realising that Washu can overhear every single word he says whilst he pumps the 10 tonne weights for a few minutes before his eyes get distracted by the buttons on the main console. 50Gs seems a good starting point for a warm up as he punches in the commands and limbers up stretching his arms and legs before continuing with exercising for another strenuous hour and then another.

The seconds continue to slowly tick by for Washu who believes she now has a 93% accurate estimate of what Yamcha is capable of from his activities. If she had seen strength, speed and stamina the likes of this a fortnight earlier then it would have shocked her but now it’s belittled by the powerhouse that was Vegeta. Still he seems to be outclassing that of the many other warriors she has seen in her years in the final frontiers of space. Swivelling around with her long magenta hair whipping round she goes off to check the progress on one of the hundreds of research projects she has been simultaneously working on.

Rubbing the sheen of sweat dripping from his face on his forearm the wolf warrior has reached his limit and exits the training chamber to rest his exhausted mind and body. Thankfully finding he has the living room to himself he wearily trudges to the sofa before flopping down into its comfortable cushions relieving his feet of his weight. Telekinesis is the lazy man’s greatest tool and with a flick of his hand the T.V bursts into life, the remote flies into his hand and the opening and closing of the fridge door can be heard coming from the kitchen. A cool can of beer gently slides into his second open palm, both hands occupied he opens it with his teeth before chugging down half of its contents in one large gulp.

As the refreshing alcoholic beverage quenches his thirst he begins his quest for a decent channel to watch whilst he relaxes and runs into one of the main problems of being such a high calibre fighter. With reflexes and his mind’s speed honed to such a mind boggling degree he suffers from seeing most things at a slower pace than those of an average Joe, even when not powered up. The constant stream of the screen in front of him becoming just a bunch of images being flashed up one after another not seamlessly blending into motion. Finally something interests him, a sports programme displaying the latest results.

He drains the last dregs of his beer and vaporises the can in his clenching fist. Turning off the T.V in frustration, his baseball team The Taitans have not managed to turn around their long running losing streak and yet again making a mockery of themselves in front of everyone. Vacating his seat with the faint stench of charred metal following him he heads up the stairs to check on Ayeka and Ryoko. Maybe disturbing them is a bad idea, giving them some space and time would seem rational yet with nothing to do in this house with naught but Sasami and two animals for company he takes the risk of proceeding. Stood in-between both of their doors he listens to the all encompassing silence, more haunting then any of the most anguished wails of grief.

Not able to choose which he visits first he decides on the third option, both. He has spent enough time training with his rival Tien to have picked up a few tricks and so a multi-form of Yamcha splits him into two separate beings. Knocking on both doors simultaneously he receives the same echoing response of nothingness, a few minutes drag on and he has long since given up the hope that they will answer his rapping knuckles. Reforming back into a single organism he exhales a long sigh heading back the way he came.

“Spending a month in a house full of beautiful women definitely sounded like my kind of fun. Who knew it could be so much of a hassle and chore and it’s just my luck that as always they have their hearts set on the prince of all Saiyans than Yamcha.” Talking to himself he stirs up the bitter feelings he has always held. The seeds of resentment of how the man responsible for his own death and the loss of so many other lives was the one who stole from him the one most precious to him. He could only stand and watch as his chances for his dream of being a husband were washed down the gutter.

Feeling sorry for himself and in a self loathing kind-of mood he goes back to train, heading over to the control panel he didn’t fully investigate earlier to see a few controls that pique his interest. Intrigued he presses an assortment of buttons labelled under simulation, each button named after something he clearly remembers from the recent past. The machine begins to hum and purr as it warms its cogs and turbines up, the super computers of its core booting up to obey the input commands.

Startled by the room around him fizzing into non existence he hovers in nothingness searching around him for the door leading back into normality that has been replaced by blackness. The world around him begins to fade back but this time it is not what he was expecting, an endless open expanse of water below him stretching on from horizon to horizon. A green ocean of a planet he had never visited has spawned 2 feet below him and it isn’t the only thing his button mashing has, the main console is still next to him floating in mid-air but he wants to see how this will turn out now.

Towering before him is a white devil. Horns, tail and the ability to wipe out planets because he can is Frieza in his second form. A bulk of white and purple staring maliciously down at the ragtag man inspecting what he can only hazard a guess at being a faithful reconstruction – having only seen Mecha-Frieza and King Cold it seems closer to the latter than the tyrannical son. A grin is exchanged as both feel confident before the other as the waters below them boil and froth, forced back away from the power growing and emanating from them in a dazzling light show.

So it begins. After over a decade of waiting Yamcha gets to test his mettle against the dreaded Lord Frieza, well if a little kid could do it so could he. The depths of the ocean open up beneath them as they become blazes of white, flashes of pure light darting this way and that. Fists become meteors tearing through the sky at faces and torsos, kicks slice through the air leaving vacuums in their wake and yet neither opponent has landed a blow past the other’s defences. Block after block and dodge after dodge they continue slogging it out across the miles of open water evaporating in their wake. Yamcha’s building confidence is crushed like his larynx when the flailing tail of the galactic oppressor latches around his throat, rendered defenceless as he struggles to remove the force stopping him from breathing he tastes the force of Frieza first hand.

Pummelling his stomach and midriff area mercilessly Frieza lands innumerable punches into the hardened abs of Yamcha, his muscles may be rock hard but his organs within are still as soft and squishy as when he was born and are not faring as well. Bashed and knocked around his stomach and kidneys rupture inside with a great tearing yielding a howl of agony as the relentless assault continues. The front of his gi has been pulverised into atoms showing the raw wound of his bleeding gut staining his trousers a dark hue. The alien laughs pitifully and manically, delighting in the pain derived from the onslaught.

The tail locked around him won’t budge, every millisecond it stays on him is another one without his precious oxygen. Relinquishing his hold on the caudal appendage he channels his might into an attack that has a higher probability of working then clawing at the thick trunk around his neck. Delivering a high kick to the proud chin wipes the smile clean off the ruler of the known universe, so too does the follow-through Kamehameha he unleashes into the surprised face. The tail quickly withdraws as Frieza grabs at his bleeding face disfigured from the blast, a black horn hanging loosely gives up the ghost and splashes into the tempest waters below.

Not wanting to waste a golden opportunity, with his foe distracted by the unexpected ki blast he returns the favour of the pain bestowed unto him tenfold. Through vision blurred from purple blood flowing into its eyes the despot gets but a glimpse of a shadow, of a rabid wolf pouncing on the frightened rabbit petrified in the spotlights of the burning shards of rubies that are the wolf’s eyes. Inflamed with the fury of retribution, Yamcha exacts his payback with the longest and most complex Wolf Fang Fist he has ever attempted, each blow more reckless and savage than the last. Punches designed to maim and snap bone crash into the thick white chest plates of Frieza cracking the purple segment embedded in the natural armour. More and more vindictive strikes rain down until purple mars most of the previously pristine white plated skin of Frieza.

Slamming the open jaws of the wolf into the stomach of the ruler brings him to his knees and Yamcha dashes backwards to recuperate from the tiring attack. Staggered, stunned and angry at being injured by such a scruffy, low life wretch Frieza growls. Composure frayed from such an affront to his title as most powerful being Frieza quick draws his hand flashing out a barrage of dozens of death beams at Yamcha’s position. Ricocheting them back with his palm except one, that last one was just too much for him to bear. It broke through the ki he had channelled into his hands and struck its mark true. Holding his arms out extended to deflect the fatal lasers only worsens the fact that one of the penetrating beams hit. Boring through the base of his palm and burrowing all the way through his forearm and upper arm before bursting through his incinerated shoulder blade.

Yamcha’s vision dances in front of him as he fights off shock, a smoking hole scorched through his whole right arm. A feeble attempt to move his incapacitated limb nearly pushes him into unconsciousness, the wound having hardened on the inside into a solid cauterised tunnel uncompromising in its rigid state. The three points of articulation rendered useless like the whole limb he squints through the pain as Frieza still recovering from his earlier attack flies up higher and higher into the sky till the monster is a mote against the blue sky.

“You filthy swine! You dare to attack Lord Frieza! I will end you, now time to die!” Frieza summons forth a black and maroon crackling orb of terrible power above his head and one remaining spiked horn.

“Oh yeah! Well two can play at that game. Take this, Spirit ball!” Pitching aloft the curveball in an arcing motion he has practised for many years just in his right not left arm which he is now forced to use instead. Focusing his will into the ki attack he has rarely had the opportunity to use, it tears straight on an intercept course for the planet destroyer rushing towards him. The concussive force as the two globes meet in the sky clears the whole stadium of water, the sea thrown into droplets glistening as the duo of new stars rage to push the other back. The tussle between blasts is not going in Yamcha’s favour but he never planned on winning this by force alone, he has a plan.

Losing ground the spirit ball is being engulfed slowly by the larger more powerful ball of ki, he cannot hold his own against Frieza in this aspect. Cackles of assured victory drift on the gusting winds from the white lord proving to Yamcha only that his foe is assured enough that he is no longer paying full attention to the battle. With that the Z warrior takes the initiative and utilises the main feature of his technique that differs it from most others.

Spiralling off to the side Yamcha waves his left hand sharply to the right and then upwards directing his Spirit ball out of the path of the fireball and into open air. Swerving out of the way of the incoming attack moving in a linear motion, his Spirit ball rockets straight for Frieza in a zigzagging response corresponding to Yamcha’s gesticulating fingers. Flying straight and true in the final sprint the baron of barbarity’s eyes widen as he notices that overconfidence is a crippling weakness and that energy balls may be closer than they appear. Mercilessly Yamcha remotely controls his sui generis past all of the fancy footwork and aerial manoeuvres his foe tries to pull off and in for the kill.

The orb zips to and fro with each pass clobbering into Frieza’s back, chest, shoulders and forehead detonating with every impact. Angling away for a final descent the Spirit ball propels itself unto the enemy it has finished toying with, careening into Lord Frieza’s ugly mug with the force to pound his highness in a straight cast route into the depths of the high seas. Tsunami sized waves fill up the gaping hole left by Frieza, swallowing him into the deep blue as serenity returns to the ocean. Beads of the fine mist of water drift back down as Yamcha hovers panting, drooping lower and closer to the swell placating back down to a millpond.

Grunting as smoke simmers from the passage running from hand to shoulder Yamcha growls through clenched teeth as he cracks the cauterised inside of his arm. Curling his bicep towards him he watches blood freely gush from his stigmata and trickle down his near hollow arm. Spilling into the waters beneath him his blood leaves a trail of vivid red pooling behind his progress towards the main console. His progress hampered by the large amount of energy drained from him in such a close fight he senses a disturbance and doubles his pace towards the console.

Bubbles rise in great columns turning the ocean once again into a seething mass, flashes of light illuminating a shape in the deep. Yamcha’s ki sensing abilities tell him that he hasn’t seen the last of Frieza and that his power is growing at a rate which surpasses any which the bandit could ever hope to overcome. Dashing the last few feet he turns to see a long, elongated, xenomorphic head break the surface, rotating to face the one trying to escape. A pair of glimmering beams shoot from the dark eyes bursting out of the waves in the direction of Yamcha who’s hand is now slamming down hard on the large red button marked OFF.

“Ok, I think I’m done here.” Turning he watches the lasers dissipate along with Frieza as metal walls and flooring replace the boundless arena, a doorway to the outside world beckons to him. Tearing two strips from the hem of his gi he wraps a very crude bandage around his openly bleeding wounds, the pressure biting into his flesh but ceasing the flow of crimson oozing out. Testing out his damaged limb causing great aggravation within he migrates out of the chamber. Emptiness greets him.

Drips sprinkle the floor following Yamcha, a mixture of both blood, sweat but no tears pursuing his path up the creaking stairs to his temporary room. Along the mute corridor he walks, each step taking more effort then the last. Dragging his feet as he pushes the door open the last dregs of energy spatter onto the floor, his body worn out, his knees turn to jelly and fail at supporting his torso. Tumbling into a face plant his thick skull cracks the floorboards. Passed out on the floor with not a living soul in earshot to hear his fall and no-one to care about him or his well being, darkness takes him.

A feathery pillow beneath his head, snuggly blankets tucked around him and fresh dressing around his treated cavity, Yamcha wakes with a pomegranate hair fluttering down onto his face tickling his nose. Twitching his nose side to side to remove the irritant he resorts to wafting at it with his hand, his right hand. Realising too late he expects bolts of pain to torture him but nothing comes, in the space of the anti-climax he looks at his palm to see freshly knitted flesh not a scorched pit. Siting up Yamcha pushes the blanket off of him and springs to his feet trying to work out how he ended up on the bed when he can clearly see the dent from where he passed out marking the wood. Flexing each finger of his healed hand then the wrist he grins at the miraculous recovery wondering if maybe Vegeta had a stock of Senzu beans around the house someone fed him. The how doesn’t concern him as he stoops to pick up the lone hair from the floor where it drifted down to.

Inspecting it he sniffs the follicle recognising the scent of the owner, nodding to himself he lets it fall and with newfound energy goes for his most prized possession. The whetted blade of his Liuyedao, a weapon he has had with him since his first chance meeting with Goku. Unsheathing to meet the shining silver he runs its edge against his arm in the age old test to find that years of not seeing daylight have left it blunt and unable to leave a mark on his coarse hairs. Not having any tools or grindstone the improviser opens the wide window and jumps out of the house, bending his knees into a roll to perfectly land his graceful descent. Rapping the hilt against the floor as he walks to the water’s edge looking for a good shaped stone. A large flat flint catches his eyes as he picks it out of the lake and grips his sword firmly before setting to work.

Stoning complete with a single pass of the whetstone on each side of the blade he launches the whittled down rock, skimming it the full length of the entire lake in a dozen bounces off of the water’s surface. With a swipe of his sword a branch falls out of a tree, a branch 500 metres away followed by many others unlucky enough to be caught in the path of the random slash. Swordsmanship was always second to him after bare fist fighting and his skills in it have diminished further with it being such an impracticality now with the Liuyedao not being able to hold up if he used his full strength, in a fight it would shatter into fragments in the first cleaving motion he made. Passing the time he hones his long lost abilities in the art of swordplay for fun and to while away the hours as there’s nothing better to do in this wilderness retreat.

His activities outside continue well into the afternoon; stabbing, cutting, slicing and parrying he stands alone as he has gotten used to. Sasami did ask whether he wanted any food but he declined not wanting to interrupt his fencing for his metabolism doesn’t require the mountain of food that Vegeta’s does. Shadows start to lengthen and the one under his aegis returns touching down from his day at school. Trunks doesn’t look at Yamcha, he simply slings the bag off of his shoulders and drags it into the house he is quickly disappearing into.

“Yo, Trunks!” Yamcha again attempts in vain to grasp the son that could have been his’ attention. The bitter mood of Trunks’ melancholy leaves him in no mood for this ragamuffin as his step doesn’t falter in advance through the threshold.

“Hey come on Trunks. I bet you’ve never had a proper swordfight with anyone before. You bring down your sword and we can play, how’s that sound eh? A bit of sparring with Yamcha?”

“… Why? … Why would I want to do that? Give me one reason why? My father’s right about you, you’re weak and the weak aren’t worth anybody’s time. I surpassed you when I was still wearing nappies so what’s the point in training with you?” A response is elicited from Trunks. Not what Yamcha was hoping for, taking offense at the sad but true words reminding him of his place, but it’s progress. With Trunks talking and stopped in the doorway Yamcha tries to coax more out of the grieving child.

“Well what have you got to lose then? If you’re so sure you’re going to win then bring it … or are you chicken?” Several swear words would have followed this challenge if Yamcha had the time to speak but in the time it takes for the instantly enraged Trunks to take up the gauntlet and charge him his mouth simply hangs. Not ready at all for this and completely unprepared for a battle against a Saiyan, Yamcha’s sword is swept from his arm and it is all he can do to try and block the worst of the angry attacks befalling him. Disarmed and badly beaten and bruised he is knocked to the ground again and again. Time after time after time he gets back up not surrendering to the child he should be in control of, all it gets him though is another walloping. Struggling to his feet weakly, Yamcha looks into the cold eyes of the youth stood over him and a sense of foreboding washes over him when he sees the hue of the eyes begin to change.

Anchored in place he is ready to accept defeat as lavender hair turns blonde. Blue eyes staring straight through him, uncaring who he is just that he is there to act as an outlet for all the accumulated emotion built up in the small young body. The earth beneath the grass cracking with each step of his tiny feet. A diminutive fist raises above the stood-on-end hair, a killing blow ready to put down the old dog. At its peak height the clenched hand stops before it falls and stays there.

The only other two humanoids up and about bar Trunks and the defeated man stand fast and firm, blocking Trunks from his victim. Having rushed out of the house as soon as they saw the two begin to duke it out they have arrived just in the knick of time to prevent a second travesty from striking the household. The fight broken up, the juvenile stands there fist still in the air, just staring blankly in the direction of the downed man not seeing him or what could have come to pass. Purple hair falls down around his ears as he turns to continue on his way back into the house forgetting about his little encounter. Sasami follows the powered down other of her age whilst Washu looks down at the battered bandit.

“Quite a sorry state you’ve gotten yourself into, tsk-tsk, what am I to do with you?” Washu offers her fair hand to help up Yamcha who’s meaty hands look grotesque next to her manicured fingers. Gripping tightly she aids him up to his feet, wobbling and staggering she begins to lead him back inside. His heavy weight leaning on her for support bothering her and pulling her down.

“You Ok? I’ve got medical equipment and supplies in my lab so let’s go and get you patched up-”

“Like earlier? … D-don’t think” – cough- “don’t think I didn’t know it was you. Back to your place then?” A wry smile playing across his bleeding and bruised face below his swollen eyes and broken nose. She stops and looks at him playfully.

“Of course I knew you knew that it was me, what kind of genius would I be if I didn’t? Thought you would have learnt your lesson though, twice in one day, I bet you only got in that fight so you could spend some more time with me didn’t you?” They smile at each other as they walk through the doorway into her own private dimension. This being the first time Yamcha has seen the inside of this not so much a room more a world he struggles to comprehend his surroundings through squinted eyes and a possible concussion. Gawping as he looks around this place of technological wonder, seeing such unimaginable marvels on his short tour towards her high tech surgery room.

Arriving at their destination she props Yamcha up against one of her desks as she busies herself setting up the room; flicking on monitors, gathering equipment, turning on machines and pressing a button that rotates one of the large vertical slabs in the middle of the room around its central axis so it lays horizontally at waist level. Directing him towards it he anxiously looks at the bulky rings of an unknown metal that apparently is where he has to place his limbs and head. Carefully easing himself down onto the slab he shuffles his limbs into the correct position still eyeing the restraints by his neck uneasily as Washu sets to work repairing his punished body once again. Meticulously tinkering and healing each contusion and laceration, setting and fusing broken bones and regenerating damaged tissue the scientist deals with her patient quickly and in under a minute he’s as good as new.

“Now if you’d just like to stay there for a few more minutes I’d like to run some harmless routine tests on you, you’re the first human I’ve had a chance to experi- study.” Grinning she gives him no time to argue as she attaches electrodes and multitudes of other probes and measuring devices to his exposed skin.

“Uh Ok? Umm what kind of tests?”

“Oh nothing special so stop worrying: basic biomedical profiling, brain mapping, interdimensional energy mapping, blood analysis and of course I’ll be comparing all of these results with those I gathered from Vegeta. You don’t mind if I use you to compare differences between that of your species and Saiyans?”

“Oh great I’ve always wanted someone to prove beyond any doubt how much stronger and better he is than me”

“Lighten up, you’re still the best specimen of your species for my research. You are in the top elite when it comes to raw power and don’t have any mutations like a third eye or anything to skew my results. Why so serious all of a sudden? Whilst I splice these DNA samples tell me how you got those scars, none of my databanks have any information on them.” Yamcha frowns confused at the mention of her already having a large collection of data around his person and mulls it over in his mind. He has only told one other person the origin of these things disfiguring his face but he can’t see the harm in opening up to her, it’s no great secret.

“Promise you won’t laugh, I didn’t get these from any heroic battle or massive fight. I … I… well you see, you know Puar … well he really hates it when you try and give him a bath. As you can see it didn’t go too well for me and after that I left him to manage his own personal hygiene.” Serious and deadpan he relates to her the tale that he normally litters with lies of bravado when picking up girls but she hears the truth. She hears the truth and bursts into a guffaw of giggles betraying her promise not to laugh to him though he knew this was going to happen for the exact same thing happened when he revealed the story of his face to Bulma. He raises an eyebrow and questions her for a change, she is learning everything about him so it only seems fair.

“Yeah you laugh it up at least its good to see someone here smiling except Sasami. Now I suppose you know why I never tell anyone stuff about my past, just because I’m a warrior doesn’t mean every single aspect of my life will be sung from atop high walls y’know. Just why aren’t you moping around like Ryoko and Ayeka though? On the day you seemed pretty downbeat and I didn’t see you at all yesterday so what’s the deal?”

“I might be a scientist but I still have a heart, of course I was upset that he died, he didn’t deserve that and I didn’t get to finish collating data on his anatomy. More importantly though unlike those miserable saps I don’t see the light shining out of his derriere, he’s just another challenging test subject. A month without him, that time will blink past in an instant. Compared to how long I’ve lived that’s next to nothing.”

“I’m not gonna fall for that trap, I have a bit of experience under my belt and I know full well never to ask a beautiful young lady her age.”

“Young? Ha you truly have no idea do you, I suppose with a body like this you would never know that in terms of your Earth years I have passed well over my 20,000th year. ” She savours the look on his face. The sheer shock of such an astoundingly high number being her true age, she makes Roshi look like a new-born tot – surpassing all of Earth’s recorded history with a twenty millennia past. Holding a scalpel in one hand she leans in close over the incredulous prone figure at her mercy.

“T-T-twenty thousand?! Wow that’s a lo-” The cutting instrument lowers till it is pressed against his chest, glinting in the dim lighting maliciously. A bead of sweat forms and rolls down Yamcha’s cheek as he stops what he is saying.

“W-what I, uh, really meant to say was … t-that you look very good, no extremely beautiful for a woman of your age. Wait! No, nonono I-I didn’t mean it like that just … in general you are good looking, I mean I thought you were young enough to be my daughter or something y’know.” Washu’s eyes soften and she smiles at him as if she were only messing around. Standing back up she walks towards another of her desks full of equipment hidden from Yamcha’s obscured view who is currently counting his blessings and not paying attention to what she is doing. Snap! She stretches on the latex gloves and releases them so they spring back against her flesh making a loud sound.

“ I have one teensy little favour to ask of you. You see there was one sample that I couldn’t obtain from Vegeta and I was just wondering if you’d help me out in that respect.” Puzzled he slowly nods at her not too sure what he’s getting himself into now.

“Well sure Ok I’ll help ya. What is it that you need me to do?”

“Oh nothing, just stay still and leave the rest to me … I’m the one qualified to perform this, hehe” Her emerald eyes gleaming as they dart across his body and then to a control panel materialising out of the ether, grinning wickedly she presses the lone button as an inanimate object springs to life. The restraints hanging loosely around Yamcha’s prone form begin to shrink and stiffen causing a visage of abject horror to play across his face. Laughing manically at her cunningly laid trap springing into action she wrings her hands together, flexing her magic fingers as she cackles at the ceiling like the true mad scientist she is.

“Hahahahahaha, you’re all mine now and there isn’t anything you can …. Where the hell did you go?!” Returning her gaze to the now empty obsidian slab alarm bells ring in her head, yet another has escaped from her fool proof shackles. She only took her eyes off of him for a split second and the restraints are still there and in one piece so …

“Hey what do you think you’re playing at. The hell is with the bondage all of a sudden.” He is stood right behind her, his reflexes saving him as he is now fully healed she is cursing the way that she gave him the means to escape. Slowly turning around she meekly looks at him, the smile gone from her face.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t do that, can’t we just pretend this never happened?”

“How about no? Why were you trying to restrain me? I gave you my consent to get this sample you wanted so you could have just taken it. Go ahead get it over and done with, retrieve this sample of yours.” Hounding her and not dropping the subject her cheeks begin to blush and her eyes drop to her ruby coloured shoes.

“Umm well I was after a very … particular sample and I thought you might refuse so I thought that what I did would be the best way to be certain I got it.”

“Hell I don’t care what the sample is. Come on is it blood, hair, skin … memories? I won’t put up a fight over it, I gave you my word so spit it out already.” Pestering her with further questions her skin turns a deeper shade than her hair as she timidly shakes her head trying to raise her eyes to look him in the face.

“No it’s none of those things. It’s …i-it’s a sperm sample I was trying to collect.” She looks him in the eye deeply embarrassed and feeling very uncomfortable. Shifting under his gaze he doesn’t break eye contact or bat an eyelid at what she says, just folds his arms.

“I’ve given samples like that before but never have I been forcibly tied down for it. I don’t want to know if that’s how they did it on your planet but things are different here, I’ll be checking back later. See ya.” Vanishing from sight he disappears from Washu’s realm leaving her still stood there. Disappointed by the turn of events she slumps her shoulders and trudges off to clear away what she had gotten out in preparation.

The onset of dusk encroaches on the land, plummeting the household into the limbo state of twilight before falling into the black of night. Not a sound can be heard, Sasami has gone to sleep as it is approaching her bed time. Ayeka barely noticed her sister entering the room, the pleas of her sister to move away from the window she has been staring out of all day fall on deaf ears. From her viewpoint the princess can see Ryo-uh her ship beside the lake, it is gathering moss now but all that is hidden from her now it is night-time and the world is shadow. Her hairs hangs unadorned and loose, her royal head crest laying abandoned by her bedside cabinet and a simple black kimono reflects her mood. An unblinking stare devoid of happiness or joy, her heart a Pandora’s box of joylessness for amidst all the despair and dejection lies a faint sparkle of hope. That one hope that death for him is not permanent and that all she has to do is wait and wait for him she shall.

Ryoko’s mood hasn’t lifted either despite her best efforts to drown them away, drinking herself into a stupor by consuming every last drop of alcohol she bought with his money. No joy is to be found by her at the bottom of any of the many empty bottles scattered haphazardly across her room. The effects of the drinks is nothing to her, she can purify the toxins within her bloodstream with a thought, trying to reach a cold oblivion of numbness she fails as every time she hears his last words echoing in her mind. Why couldn’t he hang on for just a little bit longer, not knowing the last word is torturing her as is the guilt she has settled upon her shoulders. Ryoko blames herself for his death, her actions caused him to act rashly and led to Grah pinning him down. But then Vegeta thanked her for it. Awash with confliction she balances on the brink of madness, holding on desperately for his return to her open arms.

Walking down the hallway from the room of the one that Ryoko and Ayeka’s hearts painfully yearn for Yamcha carries a small sealed opaque container. Jogging down the stairs with the item clutched in his hands he knocks on Washu’s door tapping his foot impatiently as he waits for it to swing open of its own accord allowing him to enter her domain. Glancing around as he steps inside for the fair maiden of intellect he spots her in a far off corner with her fingers whizzing over multiple keyboards. Traversing the distance at a speed which negates travel time he patiently waits behind Washu for her to finish what she is typing. Rotating round in her chair to face the vagabond she is startled when a small object bounces onto her lap. Curious she picks up the jar and holds it up to her face inspecting it, shaking it gently she hears a faint sloshing sound coming from inside which only exaggerates her inquisitiveness.

“What have you brought me ? Is it a gift of some sort?” Washu is still trying to deduce the contents of the container based on the audio clues from the sound it makes when agitated and is about to resort to opening the lid when Yamcha speaks up.

“It’s what you asked for earlier, you know the sample of my-”

“What?! You are actually freely giving this to me just like that?” Her hand has frozen in place on top of the lid not wanting to open it now she has knowledge on its contents, her face reddening by the slapdash and carefree way in which he handed this ‘gift’ to her. Hesitantly placing the jar down on a nearby workbench she turns to see Yamcha turned around and back on his way out again.

“Wait Yamcha!” She calls out to him and rushes off of her hovering cushion towards him before he can disappear. He stops when he hears her shout his name and looks back to find her stood beside him holding her hands behind her back.

“Where do you think you’re off to, I- I’ve got one little experiment I’d like to try out now.” Washu smiles slightly as she sees the confusion rise up in his eyes again.

“Experiment? What kind ‘cos it’s getting late and I just gave you the-” She embraces him and kisses him gently on the lips stopping him speaking. He looks down at her, a look of timid hope on her face and smiles before returning the favour as they sink into one another with Washu getting a conclusive positive result from her experiment.

As Yamcha and Washu cure each others loneliness something else occurs at the exact same time. A white booted man in a blue sleeveless jumpsuit stands with his arms crossed impatiently waiting in this oversized reception. Streams of fire and desecration litter the long walkway leading up to the check-in station and a mountainous red ogre looks disapprovingly at the man stood before him. King Yemma proceeds to begin the judgement of Vegeta’s soul.

“You’ve got some nerve showing up her like that, this isn’t the check-in station for your place of death and … well you certainly made an entrance. It’s as if you want to be punished, you’re only making it worse for yourself.” The thundering tones of the bearded judge boom out, his normal routine of intimidation having no effect on the deceased Saiyan.

“Shut up fool, your threats are meaningless. How is it possibly to have a fate worse than eternal damnation in hell? Now before I do to you as I did to all those pathetic souls outside tell me the way to where Bulma is.” Raising an outstretched palm emanating a brilliant yellow light of pent up energy he shows these aren’t idle threats.

“You killed millions of innocent souls on the way here, blasted your way to the front of the queue, threaten my life and expect me to help you find paradise? Be off with you, I don’t need to show you the way to the infernal realm.” Yemma’s answer greatly displeases Vegeta, a harsh snarl escaping from his clenched teeth as the ball of energy in his grasp grows in time with his anger.

“I will not be so close and have this taken from me, let me see her NOW! Pray to your impotent managers you see sense or I’ll tear this whole afterlife to pieces.”

“Goodbye Vegeta, I had hoped you would change but you are too set in your ways. I condemn you to hell.” Yemma slams down his hammer sentencing Vegeta. Enraged beyond belief the prince releases the blast only to have it dissipate in the air. Like a wisp of smoke his hands and arms begin to vanish before his eyes, eyes that join the rest of his body taken from him. Left as a soul, blind and deaf to all, he is sent unto his fate. The pain of a thousand sons without fathers, parents forced to bury their own children, lovers separated by death all their hurt caused by his actions finally has its retribution as he languishes in the Stygian abyss alone. The torture of his very soul begins.

Freed he leaps out of bed massaging life back into his arm until the intensifying tingling sensation eventually dies down and it begins to operate the same as his other arm. Casually flinging on a vest and jeans he leaves Washu to her forty winks in peace and as the man of the house goes to see who else is also awake. Somersaulting off the banister to quickly descend to the ground floor he lands on his hands and starts to walk to the kitchen in this position. Two long tails of blue dance across the doorway as he approaches and eases himself back onto his feet.

“Morning Sasami, breakfast ready?”

“No, not yet…” Sasami like Yamcha has only been up for a while and although he feels guilty for the pressure on her for cooking all the meals she is the only one of capable of a task without any danger of food poisoning. “… Oh before you go, Yamcha were you having a bad dream last night?”

“Bad dream? No, why?”

“It’s just I heard some weird sounds coming from your room so I thought you might be having a nightmare or something. Are you sure you weren’t, you don’t have to be embarrassed.” A rosy colour graces Yamcha’s cheeks, she heard his midnight rendezvous but thank god she is still too young to understand.

“Washu’s also not coming out of her lab, I tried knocking on her door this morning but she wouldn’t reply. I don’t like going in there so would you mind waking her up today ‘cos she asked me to make sure she didn’t miss breakfast.” Yamcha’s position is worsening, he is thinking of ways he could try and pull this off. Maybe if he used his extreme speed he could carry the sleeper in his bed into her lab and make it look like she didn’t spend the night with him. Thinking to himself why he doesn’t just tell her the truth and so prevent any complexities form building up someone must also have been thinking the same thing.

Noiselessly walking barefoot but otherwise fully dressed, Washu graces them with her prescence for a cheeky wink directed at Yamcha before she skulks off into her lab. Sasami looks at Yamcha with pure confusion on her face, he can see the questions building up behind her eyes and prepares himself for the inevitable revelation he will have to make. Luckily someone else does this for him, Trunks appears directly beside Sasami and after she recovers from the startle he whispers in her ear an explanation with which she whispers back to him to confirm what he just said to her. Feeling uncomfortable and sure they are discussing him and his personal life, Yamcha feels their eyes upon him as Trunks nods at Sasami before sitting down and swinging back on the sturdy chair precariously.

“Wow really, this is wonderful news. So Yamcha when are you going to marry Washu?” She beams at him, an innocent cherub that somehow has stricken such a deep fear into the heart of Yamcha. The colour drains from his face as a multitude of curse words whizz around his mind at the mere mention of marriage, freezing up as he did all those years ago when he had that crushing phobia of girls. One second he is there stuttering and worriedly glancing about avoiding Sasami’s eyes and the next he is gone, no longer stood in the kitchen.

“Hey! That’s rude. Where’d he go?” Sasami pouts, annoyed that he didn’t answer her question that seemed perfectly reasonable for her. Trunks nearly overbalances and falls off his seat he is laughing that much, with the cunning of his father he planned and executed that perfectly. Not as sinless or pure as the girl-child he has known about Yamcha and Washu’s relationship for some time now. With over two weeks having passed since becoming an orphan he needed to have a good source of comedy and he thinks he might have found it.

Taking in deep gulps of air the Z warrior clutches at his chest, she nearly put him into cardiac arrest with such a shock. Trying to recover and put his mind onto other matters he has moved himself into the training chamber again, one of the weights seems to be carelessly strewn on the floor which he is sure he put away properly. Dispelling it from his thoughts as it is inconsequential he powers up the main console and activates a training programme that has quickly become his current favourite. Risking challenging himself a bit further he activates the artificial gravity up to 100G, he has tried simulations with gravity as well and found out that the gravity strangely enough only effects him not his opponents. With this handicap he spawns the entire Ginyu force.

Wham, bam, splat and the rest is silence. A mere ten minutes and five of what supposedly were the most feared mercenary group lay defeated in the dust. Yamcha himself received only a few minor scraps and contusions, no major injuries thankfully. Greatly pleased that he managed such an accomplishment he switches off the machine and warms himself down with a few stretches before seeing the reward for his deed peering in through the porthole in the door. Preferring seeing things with her own eyes rather than on the screens she looks at all day she stands gathering primary data. An inviting smile is too much of a temptation for him to resist. Enticed he waves the door open with his powers. A pair of hands clamp over her eyes from behind her.

“Guess who?” He grins mischievously knowing how much she hates it when he does that. Pulling his hands off of her she shuns him until he has fed her ego enough with sweet nothings for her to forgive him for his misbehaviour.

“I’m afraid another urgent thing has cropped up in my lab … it appears another lengthy ‘experiment’ is in order.” Lifting her up into his strong arms he cradles her close to him as he carries her back off into her den where no-one can overhear them.

For Ayeka though nothing has changed, still holding her vigil awaiting for his arrival back. Only moving from this spot by the window to sleep, relieve herself or when Sasami brings food to her, however most of the time the dishes get forgotten about and the meals spoil. Enveloped in her own feelings the princess doesn’t see how much her lack of activity is worrying the younger princess. If she did it would only bring more heartache and pain to the distraught maiden.

Waiting till all others have gone to sleep or are otherwise preoccupied Ryoko’s behaviour changes. Languishing throughout the day in the throes of inebriation and misery but at night she sneaks out, her mind cleared of distractions. With no-one to see her she phases downstairs and softly closes a large metal door behind her. Over the past week she has been making nocturnal visits to the training room every night and vacating it as soon as she hears the chirpy singing of Sasami as she gets up. Feeling foolish that it took her this long to realise, this is what he would want her to be doing not feeling sorry for herself. Such a pitiful state would only arouse his disapproval, she knows that now as she knows how highly he thinks of strength and power. Craving his affection she strives to better herself, pushing herself beyond her known limits every night till she can show him how strong she has become and how he will be pleased.

“AAAAAAAGHHHHH!” Piercing the silence in the world of the dead is the shrill scream of Vegeta. Panting with sweat rolling off him in rivulets, his whole body shakes from the pain that was all he knew. The pain that is fading … his body… . Suddenly it clicks, he has a physical being again. Though not alive this is a marked improvement as he tries to look about in the place where no light ever shines. No sound or things to see the only sense he knows he has working is touch, the smooth gloves slipping between his fists and the warmth sprouting from his ki. Focusing the ki into his hand and releasing it as a perfect sphere of illumination hovering around his person.

The flare serves its purpose. Despite shedding no light on the lack of surroundings in the pits of Hell he can see himself. A throaty chuckle as he takes in himself with his eyes, the strength rolling off him in great emanations – his power hasn’t decreased in his incarceration. Why he is wearing clothes he wasn’t wearing at the time of his demise is something that might have bugged him were it not for the ecstasy of existence. You never truly miss something until it is taken from you and how he missed what he has been working and training to perfection throughout his whole life. Grinning from ear to ear he quenches the ball of ki and plunges himself back into the ebony blackness of Hades. Waiting, awaiting nothing in particular but no other roads are open for him.

Time passes, how much he couldn’t say. He could say how many times his heart beat or how many breaths he took but time he couldn’t give you for it works differently in the eternal realm or might do. Time in a place of infinity means nothing or is nothing, he isn’t a philosopher or great wise thinker he is a fighter so these matters don’t concern him. What concerns him is the change in his environment he has detected with his acute vision. Black has gradually changed into a dark grey, grey into silver and silver into a shining brightness blinding his vision. Shielding his eyes from the damaging light he lowers his arms back down from his face and tries to work out what in Hell is going on.

A crimson lake greets him, a wide open sea of a liquid he has drawn from others more times than he can count. This lagoon of blood he stands before. He has no recollection of it, this is a circle of Hell he has not been to. The shoreline of the gore is a forest. A forest with no trees. Each towering spear or colossal needle thrust high into the air, every sharpened point of the millions upon millions gleaming. Such a hostile habitation is a breath of fresh air from the void he was jailed in, surveying his surroundings and the bustle of activity he sees he is not alone. Bands of armed ogres rushing from the spikes towards an unseen point beyond the horizon of death. Calls to arms are barked and alarms whir noisily, breaking the stillness of the damned. Reaching out and lifting up one of the horned beings running past him by the throat Vegeta looks coldly into the sockets of this guardian of the underworld.

“What’s going on? Where in Hell am I?”

“There’s been a prisoner escape from Tartarus level, the area were we keep the most evil and dangerous beings who have died … such as yourself. As to where you are this is Area 1, Sector 1 and you and your kin have been released to bolster the ranks of guards.”

“My kin?…” Vegeta discards the poor ogre into the lake when he sees figures forming in the distance. Such a wondrous sight that he has not seen since his years as a toddler, a mighty host of hardened Saiyan veteran fighters relieved from their sins temporarily to aid the ones keeping them forever confined in torture. The best unarmed force the universe has ever seen was at the disposal of the Kai’s and so not wanting to squander what resources they have in response to the prison break until the emergency is over the Saiyans walk to war again. Yet more and more of his long lost species come into existence, his breath catches in his throat when he sees him.

Running up to the group of his brethren known to him he stands as a man full grown before someone bearing an uncanny likeness to him, his father King Vegeta with cape billowing at his back. His father is not alone, by his left hand side is the weakling brother of his Prince Tarble. Gathering around their monarch instinctively the Saiyans form rank around their leader, familiar faces like Nappa and Raditz seen in the front line eager for this one final stand they have been given.

“I am here father, Prince Vegeta reporting for duty.” Bowing on one knee before the only person he would consider honouring in this way before standing back up tall and proud.

“My son, you have grown up to full strength. You escaped Frieza’s treachery then, that is good news to hear but where is your tail?” A great fatherly pride blooming within the king seeing his son as a man for the first time, a strong man and worthy fighter surely despite his missing appendage.

“I lost it carelessly in a battle, since then I have gotten stronger, stronger than all other Saiyans before me. I have become a Super Saiyan.” All the other dead Saiyans stare at him, none believe this claim of him ascending into the stuff of legend. Even his father doubts him, it can be seen in his eyes. They want proof, they shall have proof and cower before his power. Roaring as he raises his power and surges ki through his body he transforms to the form of the mythical warrior. Amidst the sea of black and dirty brown hair stands one shining being of pure gold.

“Ha, this is but a drop in the ocean. All of you stand there so high and mighty yet even my own son not even into puberty can do this, it must come from the lineage of the super-elite. Hey Nappa, want to see how easily I can kill you this time?” The shock and awe tactics work, even the king is humbled before such a display. The stories they told themselves to ward off the oppression of Frieza have come to pass and they bear witness to the pinnacle of their species, the power hidden within all of them.

“Why-Why you?! I don’t care ‘bout your stupid hair change you trumped up little squirt … you’ll pay for what you did to me!”

“Is that so Nappa? Tell me what makes you think you’ll fare better than when I blasted you to pieces. Have you gone super Saiyan also, sorry I can’t tell from the light shining off your bald dome.” Laughing and mocking his former partner from the safety of self assuredness and omnipotence, Vegeta takes one of his gloves off and throws it to the feet of Nappa.

“Grrr… I’ll KILL YOU!” In the instant before Nappa can set his future in stone by swinging his considerable sized fists he is jerked back to his senses by a stern hand gripping his arm. Calming down through heavy breaths Nappa slowly nods at this Saiyan, understanding now how he was being baited into such actions so he could be smitten down by the prince again. Tutting at his loss of a demonstration of his enormous strength Vegeta’s attention focuses on this new scarred combatant – a face he could never allow himself to forget.

“I know your son.” Vegeta points at this unnamed soldier, not knowing what to do when addressed by royalty or one straight out of the unwritten pages of their folklore he looks around checking that he is the one who Vegeta’s attention is fixed on. Tightening the tattered red rag knotted around his forehead he steps forwards, approaching his Prince and King in a stately fashion. Following his father another Saiyan stands by him, long spiked hair rustling against his armour.

“Not you Raditz begone.” Walking back to his place in the battalion the second Saiyan to go to Earth knows his place and accepts it. “I was talking about your other son Bardock, Kakarot.” Smiling at the mention of his second child, the one he saw for but the briefest of moments before being sent away to escape the planet’s destruction, Bardock is dying to know what became of him.

“To cut a long story short your son is now the only surviving Saiyan minus his and my hybrid children with the inhabitants of the planet he was sent to. It shames me to say this … but he was the one to ascend to this level before me, he was the one who killed Frieza and defeated many more foes which I could not.” Bardock nods slowly, understanding now what those visions he saw at the moment of his transition to this plane of existence meant. He sired the saviour of their species, too late to do any good but if he killed Frieza then good on him.

“You say he was the one who freed us from our servitude? Tell me my son, why was it him, this low class, and not you?” The King looks down on the Prince with a disapproving tone hinted in his words, he raised him to be the best. Bred from the crème de la crème of warriors and trained by the greatest masters on their planet, King Vegeta cannot help but wonder how his son was surpassed. Prince Vegeta quickly replies to silence any ill thoughts his father is surely thinking.

“This isn’t the first time I have died. That fool Kakarot might have bettered me all those years ago but now the tables have turned. I am the ultimate warrior, now stand aside. I will deal with whatever’s going on … I need the help of none of you.” Flying above the heads of his countrymen Vegeta unleashes all the restraints holding back his true self. A conflagration burning hotter than the Sun’s flames as a super Saiyan 3 floats high up in the sky. At last his power has reached its maximum and witnessed by all below him, any previous notion they had of what they thought of as strength is flung and crushed into the winds.

He tackles the breakout alone, none of the ogres had even reached ground zero before every wrongdoer had been not so kindly killed for a second time. The sweet taste of victory quickly fades into the shades of bitterness, no sooner had he vanquished his foes and stood high and mighty above the fallen corpses of the most feared things the universe can throw at him then his time is up. There is no justice. Cruelly whisked away from him is his body, stuck once more in the limbo state of nothingness. His reward for doing the dirty business of the Kai’s is to be slung back to the chastening experience of wretched suffering.

Woken up in the same fashion of so many men before him, Yamcha awakens with his air supply blocked off by the hair of his lover. Coughing and spluttering to clear his throat of the asphyxiating strands he sits up massaging his temples, his hand sliding down as he rubs the last remnants of sleep away. Flicking his own unruly mane out of his eyes and embracing the dawn he turns to get out of bed and …

“Morning Yamcha.” The high pitched voice of Puar startles him as the blue fuzz ball hefts up a circular device nearly larger than itself. Slamming his paw down on the single button the black screen of the radar bursts into life, lights blinking and beeping urgently.

“Morning Puar, you know what this means don’t ya? Next time you want to show me something though can you wait outside, all that beeping’s going to-”

“Going to wake me up? You are so kind and considerate aren’t you, but I’ve been awake for a while now.” Yamcha looks behind him to see Washu stirring and rolling over to face him and the hovering blue mammal, her yawning and unfocused eyes tell a different story from what she says though. Smiling he strokes her cheek then carefully throws the covers off of himself so that none of Washu’s modesty is hazarded.

“It’s ‘bout time, 27 days and we can go and get him back now. Better tell the others, I’m sure this will brighten up their day.” Rolling his shoulders as he stands and cricks his neck. As Yamcha leaves the room dressed and ready he grins and winks at Washu. With him out of sight she sets about picking up the many articles of her clothing strewn about the room, same as she has done for over two weeks now.

The first stop is the room closest to his, the closed door leading to where a certain space pirate has holed herself up in. Neither hide nor hair has been seen of her for many days and any attempt to open her door has been greeted by a ruckus of angry shouts and threats. This time though being a bearer of good news he taps gently on the hard wood of the door bracing himself for a slurry of insults and foul language. Instead the ominous silence he thought she had moved on from returns in full force. Sliding open the door just a crack Yamcha is nearly knocked out.

A faint whiff of the fumes released from Ryoko’s room is enough to make the corridor start to spin. Channelling ki through his body as protection from the toxic miasma she has created he enters through the great stench of alcohol. Empty and discarded bottles clink together as he tries to force the door so it is fully open, maybe one per cent of her floor can be seen through the wasteland of cans, flagons and flasks – not one of them containing a single drip of booze anymore. The pungent reek of her binge drinking completely masks that of her perspiration, being still worn out from the workout she has finished but seconds ago – the secret ones they still are in the dark about.

Hovering over the field of detritus and litter he goes over to where she is sat, his eyes starting to sting from the alcoholic atmosphere. Not facing him, sitting with her knees on her chest and head hung low, she ignores this intrusion into her self inflicted seclusion. Landing beside her in a small spot clear of all obstacles he waits for her to acknowledge his prescence. She just sits there, her fringe hiding her face and soft, shallow breaths breaking the silence. Looking around Yamcha flings open the curtains though not brightening the room, apparently Ryoko didn’t turn off her lights last night. Kneeling down by her he gently taps the dragon radar against one of her hands.

“Hi Ryoko, I think you’ll want to see this … do you more good then drinking yourself into oblivion.” The offhand insult catches her attention, glaring menacingly from under her hair she snatches the machine from his hand. Fumbling clumsily as she hurries to activate the locating device, her trembling fingers tripping over themselves with anticipation now she sees what he has brought to her – he has given to her an end to this nightmare. Dreading her hopes being dashed she hesitates in pressing the single button. It would be too cruel for this ray of happiness to be slapped away from her, she couldn’t bear the pain of emptiness again.

“The Dragonballs aren’t inert anymore Ryoko.” Beep, beep, beep. Seven yellow dots scattered far and wide are shown on the invention of Bulma’s, seven separate things that when brought together would grant her only and greatest heart’s desire. She doesn’t hear the door close behind him as he leaves her, nothing could distract her from what the pixels on the screen she holds in front of her face represent. Salty tears trickle down her face and drip onto the device obscuring and distorting the basic images shown on it. The dams holding back her long since dried up reservoirs of tears crack and spew out the secret reserves for these feelings of ecstasy. Enraptured with joy a large stupid smile grows across her face, the first one to appear in too long, and hugs this bringer of hope tightly to her chest that feels as if it will explode.

Next on Yamcha’s agenda is Ayeka, from what Sasami has told her about her sister’s unusual and introverted behaviour this ought to bring her back to her old self. Rapping his knuckles as he slides open the door he is so thankful that she hasn’t taken to drink like her rival. Sasami must have entered whilst he was telling Ryoko and as the kind and considerate younger sibling she has brought breakfast on a tray for Ayeka. Sat up in her bed having unquestionably just arisen from being asleep Ayeka’s glazed eyes drift over that of her sister and this strange man she has hardly seen and settle on the food set upon her lap – a simple round of buttered toast and a boiled egg.

The bright pink eyes of the younger girl look up at Yamcha from her sister’s side, her infectious smile and kind heart lighten this bleak bedroom. The one with a scarred face walks up to her and ruffles her hair affectionately as he turns his attention to the princess.

“Um Miss Ayeka, can you hear me? …” Yamcha’s question goes unanswered as Ayeka continues to stare blankly at the air in-between her and the plate with her breakfast. “… Well it’s time to go get your prince back, the dragon radar shows that we can revive him now. Ain’t that some good news.” He departs from the room having said his piece. Overjoyed by this prospect, Sasami is as giddy as a little schoolgirl smiling gaily up at her big sister. A slight trace of a smile births itself across Ayeka’s face as she blinks her eyes into focus. Now with her will to go on restored she looks down at her little sister and embraces her in a warm hug.

Heading downstairs Yamcha finds waiting for him at the bottom one person who already knows, the only person here who has a true claim to living in this house. Wearing the Saiyan raiment like his father does and which he had on during that fateful visit to that unknown planet which cost this lad dearly. Both warriors nod at each other, understanding what they now have to do – a simple chore that also reaps great rewards. Impatiently waiting for a dragon radar so that they can initiate their mission the two warm up their bodies and muscles with some simple stretches to pass the time. The rising agitation of Trunks during this delay is clearly visible, children are never the best at waiting and under these circumstances it’s anyone’s guess what he might do.

Time ticks by agonisingly slow in its never ending march onwards, a quarter of an hour passes and still there is no sign of the additional dragon radars. The thin threads of patience tying Trunks to rational behaviour have been all but severed, frayed to their limits by this pointless lingering and loitering. Fidgeting on the spot restlessly, fingers drumming against folded arms, teeth grinding and feet tapping urgently on the weathered floorboards. Second by second the fact that an uncontrollable Saiyan might swiftly become a reality looms over Yamcha.

Saved from this by Washu as she leaves her laboratory carrying with her 3 of the spare radars she made all those days ago. 2 are in her hands by the time she has taken a few steps into the hallway, unperturbed by Trunks snatching one at the supersonic speeds he is capable of she continues towards Yamcha as she hands him the penultimate device. With this piece of technology in his grasp he turns to set off on his quest to see that the brash youth is already outside ready to take off into the bright blue yonder.

“Trunks, just wait there a sec. C’mon it’d be better if we did this as a group besides you can’t carry all seven on your own.”

“Yeah, yeah I hear you and guess what? I don’t care so smell you guys later I’m off to bring back my dad on my own.” Jetting into the sky the boy begins to voyage across the globe leaving just a vapour trail dissipating into the air behind him.

“Well he definitely is his father’s son that’s for damn sure, s’pose there’s no need for this anymore… Hi again Ryoko and Ayeka” Returning the gadget to its creator his hands linger on hers till he spots the three other residents coming down the stairs. Plain to see what kept them so long, no matter how quick they try and hurry, prettying themselves up as they have done still takes some time. Bar Sasami the two women have gone to particular effort over their appearance, wanting to appear their best before this miraculous return of Vegeta.

Ayeka who for so long has not cared about such petty and vain things as the way she looks has transformed herself back into the glistening jewel of Jurai. The shine and volume returned to her sleek and glossy hair, its vibrant colour reawakened and concealing the royal headdress she has retaken to adorning her forehead with. Life and colour back in her face complemented with some light make-up but nothing as ravishing as the lavishly ornate gown made of the finest materials decorating her slim figure. Delicate hand-spun satin conjoining the elbows of the flowing sleeves to the elaborate bodice of many colours in a cape of pure white. Broaches of the highest quality gold fashioned in the shapes of the leaves of Juraian trees affix vivid reds and greens encircling the navy blue collar and skirt. Lilac spaulders and a sea blue sash complete this most regal of outfits.

Ryoko as always has taken a different approach to things compared to the prim and proper blue blood. A very dark turquoise and also very short long sleeved dress lined with a hem of pink. A sharp and shockingly coloured bright green bow tie and a charcoal girdle is all that ties together the front of her dress. Unashamedly she walks around showing off a fair bit of her cleavage and her lithe, comely legs covered only by the front of the skirt and tailcoat with her own tail peeping out from underneath. Gracing the face of the tomboy for the first time are subtle hints at attempts of using makeup, cosmetics she has ‘borrowed’ from Ayeka without her permission or knowledge. Sweeping eyelashes defined and emphasised with mascara, feline eyes outlined and highlighted and her lips rouged.

Padding towards the desert raider is Sasami in her usual garb of natural blues and greens. Yamcha has smartly kept his eyes away from the procession of women down the stairs and instead continues to look at the only woman in the room his usually nomadic eyes find true beauty in. The first thing he knows of the juvenile moving towards him is the soft tug at his yellow jeans, looking down at the small girl focusing her wide pink eyes on his face.

“Ok Mister it’s about time you stopped avoiding me and answered my question.”

“Huh? What question Sasami and don’t think I’ve been avoiding you it’s just that I’ve been …preoccupied.” The puzzled expression on Yamcha’s face isn’t fooling anybody, somehow acting skills aren’t something he has picked up on his travels across the globe so even a nine year old girl can see through his lies.

“Well that doesn’t matter, you’re here now so … when are you and Washu gonna get married?” Her cheery smile once again freezing the very soul of Yamcha. Keeping his hands in Washu’s turns into a grave mistake, all routes of escape are gone as he feels her dainty fingers grip his like a vice. If Sasami was trying to finish this Z-warrior off good and proper she is succeeding with flying colours, nervous sweat drips down his face drained of colour. Washu is enjoying this way too much for him to be comfortable, clasping his sweaty palms tighter as she leans in with a coy blush on her face.

“Oh Yamcha I had no idea you felt that way about me, it’s all so sudden. Well, give a girl an answer then.” Dread knits itself into his bones, a cold shiver running up and down his spine. He tries to take a step back but her hold on him prevents him from doing so unless he unleashes his strength and probably break her arms in the process.

“N-now w-what uuh you well, it’s you see umm. I-I haven’t even proposed yet and – ”

“Yet? So you were actually planning to then?” He walked straight into that one. The universe’s most intelligent woman was not going to let that slip of the tongue escape her and the pressure on him now to try and think of a good, or at least adequate, response that won’t dig the hole he is standing in any deeper is crushing down on his brain. BEEP!

“Hey wouldya look at that Trunks has all the dragonballs and is on his way back.” Getting himself clean out of the frying pan and dodging the fire he has shifted all attention off of him onto the more pressing matters that they have gathered for. Yamcha just knows this will come back to bite him later and once Washu sets her sights on something she won’t drop it, he’ll have to prepare for this before it takes him by surprise again. Although all four females are looking out of the front door at where they expect the second child of Saiyan and human coupling to land his hands are still kept in his lover’s clutches.

Right on cue Trunks touches down on the turf with seven hand-sized crystalline gemstones of a fiery colouration dropping down onto the grass still wet with the morning’s dew. Bouncing off of the soft loam and coming to rest in a neat cluster at the kid’s feet the life within the dragonballs begins to awaken. Twinkling from the epicentre of each mystical orb a pinprick of light bursts forth illuminating the objects created by Dende. Pulsating in synch, the septet awaits for one to conjure forth the beast held within. Stood before these glowing spheres Trunks stands without a clue what to do now, he has never seen Shenron or been around when a wish has been granted. Infuriated by his own confusion and inability to rescue his own father from Abaddon the boy wracks his mind over every tale he has been told concerning the immemorial dragon Shenron.

Wriggling forth out of Washu’s hands Yamcha leads the group outside into the fresh air, walking briskly to retain his freedom. He puts his weathered hand on the shoulder of the hybrid son.

“It’s Ok, I got this. Eternal dragon by your name I summon you forth, SHENRON!” As soon as the command is uttered from Yamcha the throbbing incandescence of the magical globes hastens. All light is blotted out from the Sun as blackness envelopes the sky, a horizon of darkness lit up by the seven motes flashing at the lakeside. The rhythm of the shining dragonballs becomes a steady glow as bright orange sparks jet off from it. One massive lightning bolt of gold blasts off straight into the heavens tearing the all encompassing unnatural night asunder in a blaze of brilliance. The yellow fulmination continues to jet out of the seven gathered items taking up more and more of the sky as it reaches the higher altitudes of the troposphere, at its zenith four prongs jut out of its side and the head of the mass of energy culminates into a large horned snout.

The radiant luminescence dies down as the thing taking up the heavens takes on form, a massive serpentine bulk of green scales and a thick cream underbelly hide. Miles of ridges running along its great expansive river-like back, the antlers of an enormous stag and whiskers of an equally monstrously large catfish spring into existence on the rapidly solidifying being of Shenron. Large jaws full of serrated pearly whites loom down at the one who dares to conjure it from its interrupted slumber. Red eyes centre on the six humanoids and the two tasty morsels hissing insistently at the god-like reptile, Ryo-ohki is definitely not pleased with this large terrifying creature as it raises its hackles.

“Speak your wish and it shall be granted.” A voice as deep as the roots of a mountain thunder out this same line it has said countless times before. Mixtures of awe, fear and trepidation spread through the members of the fairer sex seeing this colossal lizard gazing down at them as if they were a bunch of meagre insects scurrying around at its feet. One of the little people below the hovering dragon steps up towards it.

“Eternal dragon we wish for our companion Vegeta the Prince of Saiyans to be brought back to life.”

“The one called Vegeta has already been resurrected by me when he died on Namek, it is – was beyond my power to do so …. It appears my creator has been busy upgrading my powers. Your wish has been granted.” Optical orbs the size of small houses gleam a warm lambent ruby red as the magic happens. The colour from Shenron’s eyes fades as once again its corporeal form transmutes into pure energy piercing the sky taking with it the seven artefacts that are responsible for its existence. Surging into the air as lightning, the dragon coalesces into a far off speck of light nearly out of orbit as it scatters the dragonballs far and wide to random positions across the whole planet. Reverting back to the natural hue of blue the celestial sphere and Sun return to the vista above the lake. Tranquillity resumes, birds in the forests begin to take up their chorus again and the world goes back to the way it was.

Yamcha walks back towards the rest of the group with his job now done and pleased that Dende has finally got the Earth’s dragon closer to the level of power as Porunga. He seems the only one happy though. The lack of Vegeta stood before them has sent the women frantically looking about to see where he is, their histrionics seem to be infecting Trunks as well. Yamcha should have explained how Shenron works before he did this and avoided this whole kerfuffle but no-one’s perfect.

“Sh calm down. Look when someone is wished back they don’t just magically appear next to us, they either come back to life where they died or where their souls currently are in the Other world. He has Instant Transmission so -” A great waft of brimstone and sulphur enshrouds them all, for a brief instant the sounds of the infinite damned legions screech into the realm of the living. Ryoko and Ayeka search about for the source of these perceivable clues that the one they have been waiting for has been spat out of Hell, no matter where they look neither can pinpoint where Vegeta has come into being. That is until a faintly perceptible whistling sound can be heard getting louder and louder with each passing moment.

Plummeting like a stone the wind rips at the blue training gear around the Saiyan. Roaring fills his ears as he accelerates towards the ground barely conscious, just managing to turn himself whilst freefalling the squinted eyes of Vegeta have trouble focusing on this very large object rapidly coming to greet him. In one side and out the other the mammoth mountain does naught to slow down his arrival to Earth, crashing through the miles of rock and veins of dense metals secreted in its depths he pops out covered in debris and detritus as he completes the final descent. Plunging into the waters before his house and emptying the lake of most of its contents in an almighty splash, Vegeta is back.

Gobsmacked by such a dramatic reinstatement to life both Ryoko and Ayeka run up to the agitated water’s edge peering into the murky depths of stirred up silt for a sign of their prince. A whoosh of disturbed air and a perfectly dry Vegeta is crouched on his hands and knees panting heavily, eyes wide and staring wildly at the tufts of grass between his fingers. Clenching the fists of his new body he tears a divot under each hand, dropping the sod as he slowly rises to his feet. Glancing about at the familiar surroundings and faces fixed on him his cold eyes settle on one individual. Still reeling from the agony and torture that was existence in the infernal plane his mind grasps at the concept of being alive again and what must have occurred. Walking towards this one person, this sole reason he was able to keep his sanity in the fiery pits, the faces of the two women light up enraptured by his prescence. Getting closer to the two women he outstretches one of his Herculean arms.

“Is it honestly too much to ask for one of you to have raised your power levels so I could accurately Instant Transmission. Thanks, thanks a lot for catching me. What, were you afraid I’d gone soft or something when dead or needed to be rammed through a mountain for my own wellbeing? … It’s good to be back my son.” His large arm hugs his child close to him, pulling the son he treasures into a constricting bear hug. Trunks doesn’t complain or struggle in this embrace even though his ribs are on the verge of cracking, the gladness of having his father back with him numbs the lad to the pain. Releasing Trunks from his iron grip, Vegeta smiles warmly at his offspring and tussles his lavender hair before ending this brief reunion.

Somersaulting high and landing far away from the duo of women who tried to blindside him, Vegeta scowls. Ryoko flying low and skimming the ground and Ayeka sprinting as fast as is physically possible in her dress, both with eyes moist from tears of joy at seeing Vegeta back in the flesh and no longer just a haunting memory keeping them awake day and night. Screeching to a halt and turning to face Vegeta with a look of befuddlement at his avoidance of them. Slower this time they walk hesitantly towards him only to have a knife thrust in their open hearts. Ryoko’s and Ayeka’s movements cease as they stand stock still staring at a white gloved hand pointed palm first aggressively towards them.

“No.” The knife tears deeper… “Stop, come no closer.” … and twists, ripping them apart from the core in their most vulnerable state. “ I have no need of your stupid behaviour … leave me be. … You think after literally going through hell I’d honestly be in the mood for such fools as you.” The euphoria of life anew has not had enough time to break through the calloused curtain of ice frozen around his heart and mind after a month of knowing nothing but the greatest pains devised nonstop. Uncaringly he ignores them and the abject hurt he has caused them, unable to deal with them at this point in time. As if he has done nothing wrong he faces the last pair of people outside his house who are stood close to each other. Priding himself on his great mind and cunning it embarrassingly takes his brain ages for the cogs to start to turn and churn out an answer. The linked arms, her nuzzling close to him and being in adult form can only mean one thing.

“Some good news then, seems you’re going to rid me of a bothersome guest. Still a few tricks left in the old dog then or did you fall victim to that whole nurse routine she does?” Raising an eyebrow curiously at this most unlikely of pairings, the owner of the household questions the beauty and the brains and Yamcha.

“Hey give me some credit Vegeta and you’re older than me so I don’t know who you’re calling an old dog. She has a lot more than just that nurse’s costume too I can tell ya.”

“I did not need to know that … anyway I’m off to train so don’t disturb me. A whole goddamn month wasted and I bet that clown Kakarot’s overtaken me again.” Striding off purposefully into his house to sate his hunger for training and self improvement totally ignoring everyone who gathered for his resurrection. With the show over and nothing to entertain them, the kids and feline mammals swiftly follow the man of the house as if everything were normal and fine. A faint heartbroken sigh escapes from the two women stood forlornly looking at the doorway which the Saiyan prince has just rounded and left their sight.

“Hey Washu … umm y’know that now Vegeta’s back what happens now? I mean I was only here ‘cos he kicked the bucket and someone had to look out for Trunks but he’s back now so … I s’pose I’ll … I’ll have to leave now.” It pains him to say these words, he has truly enjoyed his time with Washu but Yamcha knows that everything has its time and everything must come to an end. Looking nearly as distraught as the melancholy statues gazing sorrowfully at the threshold to the dwelling, Washu fixes her pleading eyes on this man who has become so much more than just a guinea pig to her.

“No! Don’t leave me! Y-you don’t have to go Yamcha, please?”

“C’mon don’t say it like that, it’s not like I want to. What’d you want me to do? I doubt Vegeta’s gonna let me stay with the amount of people already living here.”

“But… but you could move in with me and live in my lab-”

“You really think that’ll work? I mean your lab is still technically in his house …” Trying to mull it over in his mind all his freewill flies away from him as Washu unleashes the tearful puppy eyes on him, just the sight of it and he knows he will have to do her will. “… But Ok, I’ll go and give it a shot and talk to him. See if we can settle this man to man.” Sauntering off casually into the house, Yamcha tries to waste some time until he has to talk to Vegeta after seeing the kind of mood he is in when he spoke to the two women he is walking past. Washu sees what he is doing and can’t blame him, she has him wrapped around her little finger but he still has a sense of self preservation. Smiling in her confidence that her man will sort things out, she inspects the two stationary women who haven’t moved for some time now. The extremely scientific test of waving her hand in front of their faces concludes her experiment and proves her initial hypothesis that neither are paying any attention to external stimuli and have completely retreated within themselves leaving just empty, broken shells. Shrugging nonchalantly, Washu takes a leaf out of Vegeta’s book and leaves them to their own devices. She’s got more important things to worry about than those two such as completing tests on those few miniscule samples of Grah scraped off of the armour she manufactured, a few cells is all that Washu has to work on but the analysis is taking a lot longer than expected.

Observing Vegeta through the porthole in the thick metal door leading to the training room, Yamcha musters his courage and calms his beating heart as he attempts the impossible and slides open the door. His boots thud heavily into the tiles, crossing into the training room puts him into the artificial gravity well of the main console and his body weight jumps up to 500 times its natural level. Lumbering the few metres over to the prince of Saiyans practising the pinnacle of martial arts, Yamcha waits for Vegeta to pay attention to him or for the endorphins of exercise to make his task easier. Flowing like water, Vegeta’s movements are completely unhindered as he ignores the desert warrior as Yamcha strains himself just trying to stay stood up. Clearing his throat several times yields no results for Yamcha so he decides on a drastic course of action.

Catching the fist flying towards the back of his head before ducking, pivoting and diving under the legs of Yamcha to flip him hard onto his back, Vegeta finally acknowledges the other in this room.

“You still here? Thought you were going to take Washu and fly out of here so what’s with this lousy attempt at striking me.” Offering his hand to help up Yamcha Vegeta grins maliciously as he crushes the fingers of Yamcha with his tightening grip. In one fell swoop he flings Yamcha across the room and into the wall.

“Yeah well I came to talk to you about just that. Y’see she kinda asked me to move in with her.” Getting back up onto his feet he glances at the cold pieces of flint that are Vegeta’s eyes.

“I wasn’t aware that Washu owned any property on this planet or any other. I thought she just had that damn dimension thing … oh no, you’ve got some balls to come in here and ask that of me. Well tell her she can move her laboratory over to a doorway wherever you live, end of.” Hefty blows strike Yamcha in the stomach and chest just too quick for him to do anything about it but grin and bear it. Dropping to his knees as the onslaught finishes, Yamcha does not give up.

“She can do that? Always thought that thing was permanent… anyway more to the point I’ve gone back to living in my old desert hideout and caves don’t tend to have doors in them.”

“Ha! A cave, whatever happened to all that money from being the best player in some stupid sport? Did you waste it all?” The sole of pointed boots press down on the bandit’s back pressing him back down to the floor unable to get up.

“No … it’s not that. I might have gone and cocked up one of my games that’s all. I swung the bat too hard and you can guess what happened next. A whole neighbourhood destroyed and dozens of people injured and me up to my neck in lawsuits.” Grabbed by the front of his vest and heaved back onto his feet he sees a smile playing across Vegeta’s face.

“So now that makes two of us who have got a bit carried away whilst in a spectator sport, I killed not injured though. Hmm, pounding you was just the therapy I needed. I’m listening so now’s your chance, persuade me.”

“Uh I have nothing to offer that you would want. How about if I leave then Washu would follow and probably cause a great amount of chaos if she were unleashed in a public environment.”

“I suppose it would be far too cruel to let Washu loose on this world so it will be your job to keep her in line, good luck you’ll need it. You owe me for this so if I ask something of you I expect you to obey without question.” Circulation to Yamcha’s head is cut off from the chokehold of Vegeta giving him no chance to thank him or anything. Vegeta catapults him back through the still open door to the training room to skid face first along the floorboards of the living room as he slams shut the door to his sanctum. Bruised but mainly uninjured in the most part the sound of footsteps approaching the prone Z-warrior resting on the floor causes him to look up to see the reason he went in to converse with Vegeta.

He picks himself up to face her as she anxiously inspects his body to see the extent of his injuries. He brushes away her worries when he explains that he did what she asked and grins at her as her face erupts with glee into a bewitching smile. Overjoyed she follows him upstairs to watch him move his stuff, as he requires no aid, and guide him through her labyrinth. He would be hopelessly lost without her, she will have so much fun now he is trapped with her in the place only she knows. A place of shadows and machinery, contraptions and guile, pleasure and pain but more importantly somewhere with only one single exit that she can make disappear.

High noon and the Sun drifts high in the sky. These several hours of laborious training has done wonders for Vegeta, allowing him to relearn his body and its innermost workings and functions putting him back on top form. Not truly fatigued or weary yet he still stops his training. Something is gnawing away at the back of his brain, a niggling feeling that something is wrong but he can’t place his finger on it. He has been uninterrupted for hours now and hasn’t heard a peep out of the others inhabiting his home, not one raised voice or argument. No bickering or quarrels distracting him. He can’t for the life of him think why this is troubling him or why he expected these to break the silence he cherishes.

Two faces pop into his head. Faces that look as though all the happiness in the world has been drained from them and it all becomes crystal clear to him. Ryoko and Ayeka, or more specifically the harsh words he said to them, are what’s stopping him from continuing training. Guilt rarely frequents his mind, even if he killed someone in cold blood he would feel nothing but with this it has sown its seeds deep and ignoring it will only cause these feelings to germinate and fester. Switching the machine taking up the centre of the room off as he leaves to check on the repercussions of his rash actions influenced by the tendrils of death that had not fully left him.

Still stood where he left them, Vegeta stands in front of the two women he has wronged. No reaction, no random hugs or fights erupting between the two they just stay perfectly still with glazed eyes staring into oblivion. Like husks with the souls removed from them they stand with shoulders slumped and an air of depression seeping out from them. Vexed by this catatonic state he steps right up close to them sure that if he caused this then he must also be the cure. Pacing around them several times, wafting his hand in front of their faces and even poking them lightly still does nothing. His fist stops less than a millimetre from the bridge of Ryoko’s nose and she doesn’t even flinch or blink much to his surprise. Raising his eyebrows as he tries to figure out an answer to this quandary and with a flick of his wrist several gallons of fresh water from the lake hurl themselves at the motionless rivals.

Success, a freezing cold dousing snaps them out of unresponsiveness and drenches both to the bone. Ayeka coughs and splutters between shivers with her precious gown sticking to her body. Wiping the lake’s waters out of her eyes with her sleeve she sees Vegeta looking curiously at her and the other woman stood by her side. The intense eyes of his bore through her. Not meaning to do anything in particular but to ascertain what they were doing and why, Vegeta unwittingly continues to unnerve her already fragile being until it becomes too much for her in this delicate state. Breaking his stare and running she flees back into the house with the sounds of sobbing following her. Following her with his piercing eyes, Vegeta makes a movement to go and chase after her until he hears a soft sound from behind him.

Legs buckling as her whole body gives way, Ryoko falls to her knees. Shoulders trembling and head bowed hiding her face. A glistening drop falls and wets her lap quickly followed by many more. This is not going how Vegeta semi-planned it to, torn between which of these two women to attempt and comfort first he on instinct goes for the one closer to him. Setting his gloves alight with ki so they fall off of his hands in fluttering embers, Vegeta bends down so he is at her level and lifts her chin up so he can see her face. The tears running freely from her closed eyes ruin the light makeup she has so carefully applied yet he doesn’t care about things like this. Ryoko tries to pull her head out of his light grasp but he simply puts his other hand on her cheek and wipes away her salty tears and smudging her mascara even more in the process. The feel of his rough skin on her face makes her open her eyes at this unexpected touching.

“I’m the one who suffered in the infernal abyss of Hell so what’s the matter with you and Ayeka. It can’t have been any worse than what I – ”

“You rejected me! I- I waited for you a-and-and then you just say no… how could you?! Do I mean so little to you … y-you don’t know how I felt when you abandoned me.” Her intense glare shocks him as much as the words shouted at him. A fresh batch of tears run over his ungloved fingers.

“Abandoned? Death didn’t leave me much say in the matter, you think I wanted to die and not be with my son. Stop trying to make it sound as if you were worse off than me, I have been through things no mortal should ever suffer … and that was just you and Ayeka arguing constantly.” The little jest of his offends her, yanking her head out of his hands she turns around to face away from him. Shunning Vegeta with her back to him she tries to force herself to be angry with him, that she could deal with but not this. Simply walking around so he is back in front of her Vegeta stands.

“ I will not be ignored by some low rank would-be pirate who smells like a brewery, now stop with this idiocy. You were sad that I died, I understand, I’ve lost my wife and gone through that but I’m back now so I don’t see why you’re behaving like this.” Ryoko stands up slowly, her eyes full of the wrath she has been striving for to end her heartache.

“You bastard! All you ever do is think of yourself! Just because I’m not some repressed megalomaniac like you doesn’t make me an idiot. You really want to know why I’m acting the way I am why don’t you just go and read my mind again because you’re too stupid to work it out yourself. … Did you forget what you said just before you died?”

“What I said? I had most of my brain blown to pieces and you expect me to remember, last thing I recall was that thing on top of me stabbing my ruined body over and over again and me showing it what happens when it dares to mess with Saiyans. You should pay no heed to whatever I might have said beyond that point, they were just the ramblings of a dead man.”

“You … you don’t remember? HOW CAN YOU NOT REMEMBER?! But … you said … . Heh, you’re right you didn’t say anything, y’know why? Because you’re a coward!” He has never been called those words directly to his face. He won’t stand for this insubordination. Seizing her by the collar and bow tie of her dress Vegeta yanks her towards him so that his forehead is touching hers – he did have to drag her down a few inches or else his forehead would only come up to her nose.

“I have laid down my life to save you and you repay me by accusing me of cowardice, go on say it again to my face.”

“You think I’m scared of you, well I’m not! You are a coward. Maybe not when it comes to battle but whenever someone tries to get close to you all you seem to do is run away like a little girl. Pushing people away and keeping them at a distance ‘cos you’re scared.” Vegeta lets go of her and walks away back towards his house. Calm strides carry him away from Ryoko who still stares at him seething that he dare just leave her mid-conversation.

“See there you go again, tail between your legs. Oh wait you don’t have one, HA! You-.”

“You are right Ryoko.” A scarred hand stretches out towards her, not in the aggressive manner of earlier but in the extension of asking for reconciliation. “Kakarot has always had an open heart towards all, sickening as it is, it’s still something that I am not capable of. I was raised to never let anyone get close, taught that emotions are for the weak and only led to pain and death. Even with Bulma I never treated her the way she deserved and she was the only woman I had ever had feelings for, I failed her as a husband and as a man in the end. I cannot change who I am and you have to accept that Ryoko.” His hand hangs there as his cold demeanour thaws slightly. She is right in everything she has said and it would be arrogant to ignore, a good warrior learns his flaws or weaknesses and adapts himself around them.

“Huh V-Vegeta? Wh-Wha? I don’t- ” Extinguished are her fires of rage, gone and forgotten now she sees him there conceding to her. Vegeta’s softening expression calls to her yearning heart.

“I apologise, I was out of line for what I said to you earlier and … I do remember those words I uttered with my dying breath.” Neither break eye contact as he says this, his fairly emotionless stare meeting the longing look she can’t hide. Colour graces her cheeks once again as she takes small steps full of doubt as her mind wavers. Ryoko traverses the gulf that he has bridged between the two of them to accept his offered hand, reaching her own hand out as her heart flutters and races. Just as her fingers skim against his the hand of Vegeta disappears. For a split-second she fears the worst, that he has lured her into a trap and he betrayed her feelings for him, but they are dispelled as his mighty arms wrap around her slender waist. Instantly Ryoko blushes an extremely dark shade of red, her face glowing in embarrassment from the extreme intimacy of this unanticipated act from Vegeta.

A few seconds and he releases her and watches her slowly walk off still in a daze and holding her rosy cheeks. He gave just enough to satisfy her for a while and no more, the sharp mind of Vegeta always has a plan, not to say some part of him did not enjoy the hug. Back in his house part two of the problem presents itself, Ayeka at the top of the stairs obviously having witnessed all that passed between him and Ryoko. The manicured fingers of the princess dig into the banister as they tremble, her red and bloodshot eyes the only sign of her weeping as she is still dripping wet from the drenching. She sees him looking at her with a face as easy to read as a professional poker player. Storming out of his view and traipsing water all over Vegeta’s house she pays no attention to where she is walking, only needing to be far away .

Vision blurred and not concentrating on her surroundings she walks straight into an immovable object, a large limb at chest level barring her progress onwards. Heat diffuses through the muscular limb and into her now bone dry clothing. It doesn’t take someone of Washu’s intellect to decipher who this arm belongs to and so Ayeka recoils from it. Stumbling backwards awkwardly into the sturdy bulk of the newly positioned Vegeta. Gripping one of her arms he spins her around to face him, a look of scorn and disdain warping her pretty face.

“Jealousy does not become you, you heard what I said to Ryoko and the same applies to you. I came to apologise and ask your pardon for what I did earlier.” Taking a long inhalation through his nostrils he sniffs the air around her. “Try as you might with this façade your body betrays you, I can smell the hormones and pheromones rolling off you.” Ayeka’s stern eyes harden into a scowl.

“Humph, what makes you think I’ll accept your apology because I will not. Talking to me as if I am a common guttersnipe you seem to forget that I am a – ”

“A princess of Jurai, yes I know as is Sasami. You are not of higher standing than me, I’m Prince Vegeta.”

“Your royal blood is a joke. Royalty is supposed to represent and help the people, bit hard to do when there is only one other of your species and he doesn’t and will never see you as his ruler.” She will not relent in this rancorous grudge she is holding against him. A laugh escapes from Vegeta’s smirking lips as he steps closer towards her, something dark passes behind his eyes as they draw level with hers.

“Kakarot will bend his knees to me before I smite him down and what’s so good about who you rule. Me and that clown are the elite, the strongest beings in existence and unrivalled in our might. When I was a mere infant I obliterated several of your empire’s planets with ease, any wise ruler would have anticipated or prepared for such an eventuality and set up orbital defences to shoot down our pods before we landed. Truth is your father did nothing to protect those civilians, not one single thing in the two years we were in that sector of the galaxy.” That riposte takes all the gusting winds out of Ayeka’s sails. Taken aback by such a unthinkable truth that her father, the Emperor of Jurai, allowed citizens of the empire to die does not sit easily with her. Disturbed by these words and the wicked look on Vegeta’s face she shuffles backwards away from him only to have him casually take two strides towards her.

“That’s all in the past now, if I destroy any more planets it will not be because I am following commands but if I have no alternative left in whatever future battles I am sure to get into. Will you stop acting as cold as my corpse was a few hours ago if I hug you like I did Ryoko, is that it?”

“Ye –NO! No! You think I’m that weak willed? What makes you think I’d be interested in anything of the sort? If that’s – ” A small piece of paper is held up before her, a square image that stops her from talking as her words catch in her throat.

“Do I detect that you didn’t want me to find that you had a picture of me hidden under your pillow? Hmm what was that you were saying, you seem to have gone all quiet all of a sudden.”

“H-how did you get that? You’ve been in my room! I never said you could enter my room so give it back!”

“This is my house I go where I like and on the subject I never said you could steal one of my wife’s pictures. Here, you can have it back … and keep all those others you have stashed away in that secret box under your bed.” Vegeta hands over the photograph to the princess still reeling that he knows about her secret hiding place where she also keeps her diary among other things. Ayeka stutters, her tongue tripping over itself, not sure whether to thank him or be outraged that he has gone and invaded her privacy. All her thoughts are silenced as he springs on her a surprise hug dealing with her in the same way he did with Ryoko.

As awkward as the proud warrior is when trying this fairly simple task it achieves its goal, her protests and ill feelings towards him are calmed. He thinks to himself that it is all far too easy as he lets go of the blushing maiden and walks back down the stairs as she slowly recovers from the embrace. A smug sense of satisfaction at being able to deal with those two with no hassle at all makes him feel so much better about being alive again. Slumped down at the bottom of the stairs by the door leading to a laboratory sits Yamcha, it’s been only a few hours and he is already in the doghouse. Vegeta stands by this fellow warrior who sheepishly looks up at him.

“That did not last long at all, what the hell could you have done already?”

“It’s not my fault honestly. All I did was maybe have a little accident and a few unimportant things went and broke.” Yamcha hops onto his bare feet.

“Were these things Washu’s bones by any chance because if you were going to do that tell me next time.”

“Oh no it wasn’t anything like that. She asked me to power-up … yeah she should have thought about what happens when we do stuff like that. About half of her lab now has lost power, I think it was half ‘cos I have no idea ‘bout that weird place.” They share a knowing mischievous grin with each other as Vegeta sets off back to the training room with Yamcha tagging along. Although he normally insists on solitude whilst training the Saiyan did enjoy pummelling him earlier so allows him to accompany him.

“So Yamcha you up for a rematch, I hope during my death you didn’t let Trunks shirk in his training.”

“Count me in for some training, got to waste some time before it’s safe to go back in there and about Trunks … me and him didn’t exactly see eye to eye most days and with him being able to go super Saiyan I couldn’t force him to go and train or do anything for that matter.” Vegeta nods, he understands the predicament that Yamcha was in and he can’t think of a punishment more fitting then what the problem is, being weaker than a child. The men who had enjoyed the life of bachelors before these space farers arrived agree between themselves that they will not bother with a simulation and just put the gravity up to 100G, Vegeta also promises not to transform which doesn’t do much to improve Yamcha’s odds.

“Ok, c’mon then. I’m betting on 5 minutes.” Yamcha jogs on the spot, warming up his muscles and psyching himself up for the bout.

“Don’t make me laugh, you’ll be lucky to last one. Go!” The air hums as every particle in the sealed room is disrupted countless times by the fighters racing around faster than photons. Half a minute passes as Yamcha tries fruitlessly to back up his boast. Giving it his all still leaves him leagues behind the agile prince who nimbly evades each failed attack and bides his time. Another twenty seconds and the effect of fighting in the high gravity field taxes Yamcha’s endurances. The time to strike is at hand. With the bandit slightly off balance mid-sprint and one arm extended at the long since vacated spot where he aimed a punch, Vegeta draws back his fist and slams it hard into the exposed throat of Yamcha.

Dropping like a stone onto his knees, grasping at his crippled throat and trying to inhale through his compacted and crushed trachea Yamcha’s vision dims and objects dance in his field of view out of focus. Lumps of shattered cartilage move beneath his fingers as thin wisps of oxygen are drawn into his lungs, working his windpipe into a shape that allows for respiration to occur. Standing confidently above the one on the verge of defeat a hearty chuckle echoes through the room from Vegeta. Yamcha lashes out a frantic kick in a last-ditch effort to retain some dignity from this fight and again strikes nothing but air. Hard leather slams into his grounded leg removing his support, Vegeta’s kick strikes true and sends his opponent corkscrewing in the air. Mid revolution the left side of Yamcha’s ribcage caves in from a swift chop spinning him around to face Vegeta’s smirk as the warrior is still upside-down in the air. Quicker than is possible for Yamcha to dodge or recover a hand rises facing his stomach. A glimmer turns into a spark. The ki strikes the helpless man and blasts him into the wall of the training room next to the door and straight through it.

“Drokk it.” Vegeta mumbles under his breath as the smoke clears and the 10ft wide path carved through the front of his house is revealed. Getting carried away in the moment this slight misjudgement has gutted the thankfully empty portion of his house that was unfortunate enough to be the direct line of fire. Splinters and embers drift down through the torn metal wall to the feet of the Saiyan as he steps out following the furrow carved through the floorboards of his house. Wedged into a large boulder with his head that ploughed through many metres of ground still encased in the soil, Yamcha’s arms crossed against his torso feebly hang down onto the crisped grass. Life saved by only just managing to block and deflect most of the power of the attack the form encased in rock flops out onto the superheated ground still smoking.

Trampling over the desecrated ruins, the weak charred timber disintegrating beneath his weight, he makes his way through the debris and out through an opening in his house that wasn’t previously there. Such a ruckus has drawn the other occupants of the household to gawp at what has become of where they are living – rubble and devastation where the front door used to be. Quickly they put one and one together as they see the man slowly walking along the path of his blast to the downed warrior struggling to try and lift himself up onto his elbows. A flash of magenta darts out from in-between Ryoko and Ayeka. Washu rushes towards Yamcha trying to get there before the looming menace beats her to him. She is too late, his hand darts out down to him when she is but mere feet away.

“You fought well for a human, now go and hobble off with your woman. I have to clean up this little mess.” Yamcha grimaces through the pain as he accepts Vegeta’s handshake, a sign of no hard feelings between the two fighters as the injured one is lead away back into Washu’s lab for some tender loving care and maybe some medical attention. Washu gives Vegeta a dark look, shooting daggers at him as she guides Yamcha back through the hole in the wall his body created traversing between the three others stood gawking.

“What the devil’s going on?! What have you done?! There’s a ruddy great big hole in your house and Yamcha is half dead, what have you to say for yourself?” Ayeka is flipping out, her mind still not decided on whether she has forgiven Vegeta or not. Ryoko and Sasami don’t seem as agitated by this as the princess. A brusque motion wipes the spat out blood off of Vegeta’s blue raiment as he casually pivots around and sighs at the audience he has attracted. From outside he gets a true view of what damage he has caused, causing another swear word to escape from under his breath.

“Ok shows over, now go on about whatever it is you normally do. Unless you are, Kai’s forbid, going to do something helpful.” With that last remark he gets two women glowering at him and nearly undoes all that work he did a few minutes ago. He cares little for their annoyance and more for the fact of their inherent laziness or lack of drive to do anything, idleness is one thing he cannot stand.

“Mr. Vegeta I’ll help.”

“No Sasami. You do enough around the house with all the cooking unlike your freeloading sister and Ryoko.” Sasami, who was quite eager to do something and help out, steps back going off to find Ryo-ohki to play with.

“Grrr, how dare you compare me to the likes of this harpy!” Ayeka is taking this personally at his offhand remark, Ryoko couldn’t care less as the irritation of Ayeka is music to her pointy ears. Vegeta simply shrugs.

“Why shouldn’t I? Both of you are as bad as each other, can either of you name one thing you have done to aid this household?” This retort causes the princess to think, what has she done?

“Vegeta I bought all the alcohol and the karaoke machine – ”

“Ryoko you got those with my money and only purchased them for your own benefit.” The one-upmanship of the pirate is quickly cut down. Not one to give up so easily when it comes to outdoing the snobby princess, Ryoko phases behind Vegeta repaying his hug with one of her own. Floating off the ground with her arms wrapped around his bulk of muscles she whispers softly into his ear whilst her eyes fix on Ayeka slyly.

“C’mon I’m sure there’s something I can do to earn your favour that she’ll never concede to do.” Vegeta raises one of his eyebrow at this remark along with Ryoko’s hopes, he seems interested or at the very least intrigued. Ayeka snarls.

“Yes I can think of quite a few things Ryoko …” The insinuations in his tone excites her, a giddy smile rises on her face. “ … how about rebuilding my house?” Her smile fades quickly.

“Why would I do that? You’re the one who went and broke it.” He smirks and leans close to her and whispers into her ear.

“You don’t seem to understand how appreciative I would be if you aided me now …” His crafty words brings back the wide grin on her face. Merrily she flies off and tries to tidy up the debris as fast as she can, gleeful giggles erupting from her as she lifts up chunks of burnt lumber and starts piling it up. Vanishing back into his humble and smoking abode Vegeta pops into existence behind the Juraian woman.

“Oh my would you look at that, looks to me like you’re being outdone by Ryoko. How embarrassing for a high princess of Jurai to be beaten by a common space pirate.” He chuckles at her, she turns glowering at him.

“You think me a fool? I will not be so easily manipulated into doing you bidding like some lap dog.” Ayeka crosses her arms stubbornly and stares Vegeta down, he strides further into his house away from the princess then stands stock-still calculating his next plan of attack.

“Fine, suit yourself Ayeka but it’ll be your loss. You see I was planning on bestowing a great reward upon the woman who helps the most today.”

“What prize might this be? You’re making this up on the spot to try and get me to tidy up your mess. Honestly what could you offer to tempt me into debasing myself to such lowly chores.”

“If you’re not going to do anything then I guess Ryoko wins by default and the victor gets to spend the whole day tomorrow accompanying me as I go to West City.” He has them right where he wants them, he can just afford to skip one day of training for the important business he has to take care of in the city he lived in for most of his time on this planet. Voicing it loud enough so even Ryoko busy in her toils hears and perks up immensely, her attached tail wagging excitedly. The speed at which Ryoko is working doubles, eager to impress the Saiyan prince. This is one thing however that Ayeka was not counting on, he has offered up to her a prize that she sorely wants. She cannot allow the villainous space pirate to win, who knows what she would try and do in that day alone with him. On the other hand if she tries to win the prize then Vegeta will have succeeded, she will be forced to do manual labour and he will know how token this mask of hostility she is displaying truly is.

The princess swallows her pride and concedes to what her heart is craving for her to do. Ayeka storms off past the smug smile of Vegeta saying that she will return when she has changed into attire more appropriate for the servant work . The Saiyan makes a quick note of her body language and attitude before stooping down and hauling several tons of mortar and wood up above his head. Casting it away from his house so it lands by the large pile of scrap Ryoko has made next to Ryuoh. Dusting his hands the job is completed effortlessly a quarter of an hour before Ayeka returns in clothes she deems fit for chores.

“Ayeka there is plant-life growing out from inside your spaceship and its ki signature is a shadow of what it was when you first arrived here, were you aware of this?” Not surprised by the wreckage already being cleared but by this statement from Vegeta, Ayeka is dismayed.

“Indeed I have, Ryuoh has taken root. The soil here is not as fertile or rich as that of Jurai and so it will wither and die, it will lose its power which allows Juraians to preserve themselves and live long lives.” She is sad in acknowledging this slow death of the spaceship she has had since childhood.

“Guess you’ll just have to get stronger so that you can use your own powers to stay in your youth, though I wouldn’t be worrying about such a thing at your young age. What are you, twenty?”

“I turned 21 a few weeks before Ryoko attacked my spaceship a month ago. Hehe, you didn’t hear her say that she was over 200 years old did you. Poor old Ryoko is the one who should be thinking about such things not me, ha-ha.” The space pirates ears twitch hearing her name being said and phases next to the two in conversation asking why they were talking about her.

“Ryoko’s ki doesn’t have the feeling of that amount of age. Ryoko exactly how old are you and how long ago do you think Frieza blew up my planet?” Ayeka’s giggles continue when she sees the smile drop off of the rogue’s face.

“You shouldn’t ask a pretty young lady her age – ”

“Then what’s the problem with him asking you then?” Ayeka’s retort provokes Ryoko’s anger, Vegeta has to intervene to stop them from attempting to gouge each others eyes out. With an outstretched hand on their shoulders he keeps them from causing more destruction in the place he just tidied up.

“Ryoko just answer my question, I’m 46 if that’s any consolation.” The Juraian princess looks thoughtful now she has found out that this man is over double her age. Ryoko sighs knowing she will have to say the embarrassing truth concerning her age.

“Umm … I told you I was abandoned when I was young so I don’t exactly know how old I am but my best estimate is …is two-two hundred and fifty seven or thereabouts.” She looks to Vegeta to see how he reacts, which he doesn’t for that she is thankful. “As for when your planet was destroyed the first time I heard that news was maybe 90 years ago I think.”

“As I thought, my planet was in fact destroyed in the same year Kakarot was born which was 37 years not 90. You are closer to one hundred not two hundred if we use this standardised galactic year.” Ryoko ponders upon this and seems pleased that she has shed over a century from her age. Ayeka though won’t leave well enough alone and continues to tease and mock her rival being 5 times older than she is. Bickering and arguing descends into yelling and snarling. The prince tires of holding them back and moves out from in-between them to outside his house, they lunge at each other. If their fighting skills were in a league closer to his own then Vegeta would enjoy watching their furious bout yet it bores him and he still has one last thing to do. Wooden beams materialise and fuse in place replacing those missing from the wall, DIY is much simpler when using ki. He shouts through the newly constructed wall that if their fighting continues then neither will get the privilege of a day out in the city, silence is the reply.

All of the damage caused by blasting a man through the front of his house has been repaired and from what he can hear he has the women using their spare time to be productive, life is good but one major thing he wants to do is calling to him. As he is about to contact the one person above all others he must notify of his return he is distracted by the muffled sound of feet touching down on the ground beside him.

“You’re home early son, what’ve you done now?” The lavender haired youth absently kicks at a rock on the ground looking guilty. This isn’t the first time that his son has had trouble at school and been sent home. Normally Bulma would deal with this side of his life and he the training but now there is only him and helping Trunks integrate into everyday society is not something Vegeta is particularly good at.

“I was expelled from school. I did what you always told me to do and those mean bullies won’t be picking on me or Goten ever again though.” Most parents would be disappointed or displeased that their child has managed to hospitalise over a dozen of fellow classmates, Vegeta sees nothing wrong with how his son handled the situation. A cunning idea forms in his mind to solve the matter of his son’s education. Vegeta beckons for his child to follow him inside. Stepping through the doorway a little girl notices the premature arrival of the other of her age and walks up to him asking why. Sasami agrees that he shouldn’t be punished for defending himself and his friend from bullies but keeps it to herself that she disagrees with the use of violence of such excessive force. The father of Trunks asks her to follow too as a growing smile spreads on his face, Sasami sees no reason not to and does. He leads the innocent children into the lair of the beast know as Washu, like sacrificial lambs they follow him oblivious of what awaits them on the other side.

The scientist is busy finalising the application of healing salves and drugs to mend Yamcha after his little escapade. She hears footsteps approaching her position, only one person but the man on the slab before her dares enter her laboratory. Vegeta is not her favourite person at the minute after what he has done, not like she was ever too keen on this dominating man. Slow strides are followed by two additional pairs of feet walking briskly to keep up. The heavy footfalls of Saiyan boots stop behind her. Vegeta stands waiting for her as the two kids look about stupefied into this dark and mysterious world they have been led into. Washu grits her teeth in anger, the boldness of him to just waltz in when he nearly killed her precious Yamcha irks her immensely, sharply she turns to face him with a glare of womanly fury.

“What do you want Saiyan?” Emphasising the last word as if it were the most debasing and vulgar term in her expansive vocabulary. For Vegeta though being called the species he is could never be an insult, his undying pride for his near-extinct race prevents this, ignoring her he looks at the man apprehensively squinting from the medical table at him.

“Shame you aren’t of Saiyan blood or you might be worthy of me fighting again after that beating, for a mere human though not too shabby.” A weak smile appears on Yamcha’s face, compliments from Vegeta aren’t offered that often and should be savoured despite the cost to his body to receive it. “Woman you are now in charge of my son’s and Sasami’s education.”

“Hell if I’m going to do anything for you – ”

“If you don’t like it then you could always find another house to infest: the offer is stay and have this duty or decline and get out.” Vegeta has her ensnared with this blackmail, if they thought he were allowing them to stay out of the kindness of his heart they greatly overestimated his capacity for such things. Growling under her breath Washu doesn’t break her stare with the prince, she isn’t left with much choice unless the greatest mind in the universe feels like living in a cave. A tug from the fruit of his loins ends this staring competition as Vegeta looks down at Trunks.

“Hey Dad what about Goten, can he get taught by Miss Washu too?” Without consideration Vegeta agrees to this with a nod of his head, an additional bit of work and trouble for this pesky scientist sounds a good idea to him. He is truly enjoying pushing Washu’s buttons and provoking her to see what she will do for he knows how limited her options are.

“You’re forgetting one thing, I am Washu the greatest scientific mind in the universe not the greatest teacher. I don’t even know what this planet even teaches to the poor kids who have to go the schools here.” Such a feeble excuse, he expected more from her. Tutting under his breath his grin widens.

“Admitting to defeat already are we? I thought teaching would be of no trouble to someone who says she is so smart or were those all idle boasts? I’m sure if it gets too much for your little brain to handle then Yamcha over there will be available to help you.”

“C’mon Vegeta, what can I do? You know I was a bandit throughout all of my youth so never got an education or ought.” The downed man pipes in with a hoarse rasp trying to get his say in the matter no matter how pointless it is trying to argue with someone as arrogant and insidious as who they are tenants to.

“Not my problem. If both of you want to stay in my house then you better do what I say.” He is no longer in the lab, gone with the wind he leaves. Washu is left with a still battle weary man and two children looking up at her. The two kids seem quite excited by this prospect, Washu doesn’t share their mood and sighs.

Content with the aggravation he has caused as a side product of sorting out the issue his son had created, Vegeta returns outside to do the thing that he has been dying to. Eyes closed and mind cleared his sixth sense drifts and wanders about the planet seeking out his bane, the perpetual thorn in his side. One short telepathic communication later and the icy eyes of the Saiyan reopen. Muscular arms crossed across chest, he awaits for a reply from the clown. His burning desire to meet again with his arch-nemesis wells up within him, there is something he just has to find out.

A fizz in the air dead in front of Vegeta makes way for five humanoids Instant Transmissioning in response to his call. Goku’s family appears, all five of them. The two muscle bound Saiyans march towards each other, a fierce glint of the flames of war burning in their eyes as they look at each other. The prince of this low class scum notices that his orders to come alone have been unheeded yet this defiance against his will goes unpunished for the time being. Like brothers in arms they welcome each other with a strong and firm handshake, within that vice-like grip Vegeta’s worst fears are confirmed.

“Not hiding your face in disgrace in the dirt? That’s a change from the last time I saw you. I assume now you have came you want to make up for that utterly humiliating defeat and try and get a shred of honour back for your pitiful family.”

“Not today Vegeta, would be a shame if you nearly died on the same day you were revived. Probably we should find someplace to fight before we schedule another rematch.”

“Yes, for when we fight the planet we’re on will fare nearly as worse as you shall.” Their knuckles whiten as they continue to tighten their handshake, testing the other and seeing who will give in first. Neither blinks nor moves a muscle save for the wry smiles playing on their faces. Chichi and Videl can’t help but look on worried for Saiyan might is never too far from being unleashed and wrecking havoc but the two eternal rivals lose interest in this trivial feud when they are interrupted by Goten asking where his mate is. Vegeta dismisses the lad saying that his son’s location is in Washu’s lab and then realises he has to give the kid, who was unfortunate enough to inherit Goku’s intellect, directions as to where that would be in his fairly large house.

Running off happily through the doorway in search of Trunks, Goten leads the way as the rest follow behind him at a more casual pace into Vegeta’s hearth and home. Making himself comfortable on the lone remaining sofa by the Television that he did not inadvertently destroy earlier, Vegeta leaves his guests to make themselves comfortable. The thin fraying strands restraining Vegeta from starting an all out war against Goku are sorely tested when the other Saiyan sits next to him. Hands ravaged by the flames of countless scores of battle itch to form a fist and put Kakarot in his rightful place, somehow Vegeta manages to control his urges long enough for distractions to occur and take his mind off who he is sat next to.

Chichi takes the small space on the seat next to her husband just wide enough for her slim hips as two other women nearly trip over each other on their way into the room. Never a moments peace for Vegeta ever since he ‘invited’ Ryoko and Ayeka to live with him, something he only regrets doing half of the time he is awake. He tunes out the senseless drone of their voices as they continually pester him to see if he would like help with anything or needs anything. For the first time in his long and lonely life Vegeta experiences what his birth right should naturally entitle him to, people waiting upon his every beck and call to carry out whatever whim enters his royal mind. Throughout most of his youth in-between missions he dreamt of moments like this, sitting on a throne in his castle with unparalleled power in his grasp and exotic beauties from the far reaches of the galaxy fawning over him. Now as an ever more bitter, wiser and mature warrior the duo of women fighting for his attention and praise make him thankful that he was never granted this life of luxury and opulence.

Ryoko and Ayeka being in the same room as one another is a ticking time bomb ready to explode unexpectedly at any given moment much to the dismay of the prince. Pre-empting such an outbreak between the two of them he courteously declines both women in turn of what kind acts they wish to do to make his life easier. Graciously they accept this dismissal of their services and go in pursuit of other odd jobs that they could carry out to win this competition set before them. They’ll be hard pressed to find any chores though as Sasami is diligent in the house work and efficiently carries out all work that the nanobots Bulma installed aren’t programmed to or aren’t capable of doing. Ryoko phases off upstairs on her quest whilst Ayeka scours the kitchen for any possible dirty spot left unnoticed she can clean.

Cricking his aching neck and flicking some loose strands of long ebony hair from his scarred visage, Yamcha walks into the room from the small doorway under the stairs greeting his long term buddy Goku. The kind heartened Saiyan is pleasantly surprised to find the desert bandit here and can’t help but think why he is though. Puzzled by Yamcha’s presence a question to probe this is about to leap from the tip of his tongue when a flash of pink hair follows the Z-warrior from her atelier of science. Yamcha sees the wonderings in his friends eyes as the woman at his side links arms with him affectionately and explains his situation – how he came to become a man in a long term relationship (by his standards). He sneaks in a mountain of compliments to feed the egotistical nature of Washu and earn some brownie points in the process. Chichi has a few niggling doubts about how stable such a relationship will last between such radically different types of people but she wishes them the best of luck for they will need it.

“Wait, excuse me if this is rude but Washu the last time we met I am positive you were a lot younger.” Gohan’s observant mind wouldn’t allow him to drop this obvious change in age. Washu nods, she has come to expect these questions and can reel off the answers in her sleep she has had to use them that much. She puts them in the know about how she has conscious control over her age and uses it to revert herself to childhood or adulthood whenever she feels like taking that form. Upon hearing this one person in particularly is incredibly intrigued learning that such things are possible and would like to know more specifics about this technique. Chichi leaps out of her seat and vaults across the room, grabbing Washu and shouting for her to tell her how such a thing could be accomplished. The slow and cruel ravages of time being forever halted is a dream come true for this housewife bordering on middle-age who hates the fact her husband clearly ages a lot slower then she does – on top of that his seven years of being dead have only emphasised that.

Goku calmly stands up and separates his frantic wife from Washu. He has told Chichi time and time again that he doesn’t care about her outward appearance yet personal vanity always wins over his heartfelt words. Quietly telling her to calm down and that she is embarrassing herself he breaks her grip on the front of Washu’s clothing and attempts to soothe his betrothed. For a few moments the frenzied part of Chichi’s mind puts up resistance at Goku’s efforts to remove her from this person who holds the secrets to youth eternal. As his wife’s struggles diminish and die down against his overpowering strength Goku takes her back down to be seated when his son, Gohan, continues Chichi’s line of enquiry.

“How is this possible? I’ve never heard of anything like this even from the Kai’s.” She scoffs at the supposed omniscience of these mythological beings and boasts at how her knowledge far exceeds that of all of them combined. Goten, Trunks and Sasami then also leave the laboratory all holding a single piece of paper in their hands. Each child looks at their sheet with an extremely puzzled and confused look. Apparently the worksheets that Washu handed out to them to establish the level of learning they have reached might be a tad challenging. Goku’s second son approaches his first brandishing the paper in front of him asking for his big brother to help him out with it. Stroking his goatee, Gohan’s jaw drops at a simple glance at the questions Goten was expected to know the answer to.

“Resonance cascade effect? Quantum tunnelling devices? Anti-mass spectrometers? This level of technology is far beyond anything that exists on Earth, I’m sorry Washu but I don’t think anyone but you could answer these questions.” His mind whirs as he tries to decipher what such wondrous devices and technologies could be and how they could aid the planet if he figured them out. Washu sighs.

“Really? Oh I thought it would be a good beginning spot for them … I just don’t have a clue what I should be teaching them.”

“What do you mean teaching them?” This is news to Chichi and if it involves her child then she is all ears. With just a hint of dismay in his voice Yamcha briefly explains the little agreement that was made between him and Vegeta where he and Washu have been put in charge of educating the younglings in exchange for being allowed to stay here together. Washu chips in how it was such a generous offer from him that they were so delighted to accept with buckets of sarcasm pouring from her mouth.

“Yes it was so don’t push your luck, now how about you just ask the damn kids what they were being taught at the time they were kicked out of school?” Vegeta will let her demeaning tone be forgiven this once but he shall remember it should she ever do it again, there are only so many second chances he can give to people. Washu concurs that his idea would be the most straightforward route, though a little unimaginative, and so asks Goten what was on the syllabus and then what that word means.

“Miss Washu we were learning about timesing big numbers together.”

“Now tell me Goten, how big were these numbers in standard index form?”

“Ummm … they were two digit numbers, is that what you meant?” The exasperated sigh of Washu upon hearing how much she would have to debase herself to stoop to such a profoundly primitive area of arithmetic pleases Vegeta.

“Don’t sound too disheartened, it’s not like I asked you to teach Kakarot. That buffoon has to be the stupidest imbecile I’ve had the misfortune to meet.” Goku laughs sheepishly rubbing the back of his head agreeing that he does have a point and isn’t that good when it comes to mathematics. With the adults occupied with this discussion now of intellectual capabilities and being told that they cannot do the work set for them, Trunks and Goten seize this opportunity to run off and go play outside in the bright sunshine. Soon the conversation boils down to Washu and Vegeta swapping stories from their days voyaging through space. Talking about planets they have visited, races they have met and in Vegeta’s case what he wiped from the planes of existence. The Saiyan prince is enjoying relaying the news to Washu that around a quarter of her favourite destinations in space are no longer there either down to his handiwork or that of other mercenaries working for the Cold empire. Sasami, like the rest of the people in the room, is feeling left out of this weird dialogue and as the lads have gone and deserted her she announces that she’ll start to prepare dinner.

The ears of the two Saiyans twitch at the mere mention of food and hungrily listen to the footsteps of the young cook entering the kitchen. With their attention divided, Goku and Vegeta continue their conversations but all the time listening out to the sound of pots and pans clattering, knives carving meat and broths bubbling. Videl, who is still very new to this world of powerful alien races and intergalactic quests through the final frontier, excuses herself to go and aid the azure haired princess of Jurai. Vegeta’s amplified Saiyan hearing ability also catches the sound of two other women in the kitchen and so the well ordered regime of Sasami’s cooking is thrown into anarchic chaos. Try as he might to drown out the feminine voices drifting from the kitchen he can’t help but overhear every single word being said. Amidst the rows of plates set up by the juvenile culinary prodigy the space pirate Ryoko subtly sidles up to the young fiancée of Gohan.

“You’re Videl right? The girlfriend to that Gohan fellow, he’s part Saiyan isn’t he so … what’s it like with a Saiyan?” Not too quietly she inquires cheekily to the confused Videl.

“Huh? What what’s like?” A wicked grin manifests on Ryoko’s face, she steps closer to Videl. With dark insinuations lying deep within her eyes she leans in and whispers into Videl’s ears. As all becomes clear to Videl a very deep crimson blush creeps across her cheeks hearing the filth Ryoko is susurrating. Finished clearing up any ambiguity in her previous question, Ryoko looks with a predatory feline gaze at the young woman hungrily awaiting a response.

“ I-I …I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Such a shamefaced answer from an extremely personal and intimate question is not what the cyan haired rogue wanted to hear. She continues to push and persist poor Videl for any little secrets about the nocturnal habits of a certain species. The raven haired daughter of Mr. Satan keeps on denying Ryoko access to such private information and blushes more and more from the deep embarrassment of the brash and bold way she is being asked these things. Out of the two other females in the kitchen Sasami is oblivious as to what Ryoko is getting at with the protective barriers of childhood innocence stopping the dirt of Ryoko’s mind staining her but Ayeka on the other hand does not like what she is hearing. The high princess of Jurai will not stand to overhear such muck and storms over to stop it and save Videl from the insistent bullying and probing of Ryoko. However, as soon as the buccaneer’s attention is moved from Videl it instantly latches onto Ayeka and she begins to have some more fun. Demure Ayeka is not prepared for this.

“What, oh psh princess, you were thinking the exact same thing and I know it. We’re both women so it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You do want a hot night of passion with Vegeta too am I right?” Ayeka violently shakes her head in denial at these words. Her whole face flushing bright red a lot more than the person they are discussing who’s face is also reddening at what he overhears.

“NO! No, no I am a princess of Jurai. A lady of class and stature not a woman of such loose morals, I … I don’t have such base thoughts as you.” The two rivals of love are solely fixed on each other now allowing for Videl to escape and take Sasami with her as the complex preparation for the meal is done now, all that is left is to wait for the food to cook.

“Are you sure? Come now Ayeka don’t play little prissy princess with me I can see straight through this act of yours, it’s pathetic really. Remember during all those nights when you had those certain special dreams? Well I heard you.” The purple haired royal is taken aback by this humiliating notion and she blushes a great deal more.

“LIAR! Y-you’re just making that up! I – ” Ryoko phases behind Ayeka, quietly talking into her ear.

“Oh poor Sasami, such a young girl being kept awake at night because of her sister and the foul things she screams in the night.”

“STOP IT! Stop! You harlot!”

“Hey no need to get your knickers in a twist just saying the truth. Does this jog your memory at all Ayeka?” Ryoko then proceeds to mimic Ayeka’s voice and make exaggerated groans and sighs throwing in Vegeta’s name in every now and then along with other exclamations. Whether her furious wrath at such an affront to her as a pure maiden or the deep set embarrassment of her forbidden thoughts being said aloud doesn’t matter to Ayeka, all that matters is that she shuts Ryoko up. The two are about to lunge and begin round two of their catfight when the prince decides he has had enough. His ears burning from things he really did not want to be hearing whilst trying to entertain guests at the same time, Vegeta shouts from his seat into the kitchen to silence the quarrelling pair.

“RYOKO! AYEKA! Will you two shut up and when is food going to be ready?” He sinks back into his seat satisfied when he hears a peaceful hush from the kitchen followed by clumsy crashes of pots and pans. Ryoko and Ayeka have been thrown into disarray, reminded of their original reason to be in this room but they have just found out that what they have been saying is now also known by Vegeta. Ayeka feels so humiliated and embarrassed, a hell of a lot more than Ryoko who is quietly snickering to herself. The elfin eared reprobate has no feelings of guilt or shame over the eavesdropping but rather cheerful that it is out there in the open ready to be acted upon unlike the highborn Ayeka.

The racket that is the pandemonium occurring when you leave two women who can’t cook in the kitchen to supervise the cooking foods dies down after a few minutes. Nostrils twitch as Saiyans detect food ready for consumption in close proximity. The wooden door to the kitchen opens and closes as princess Ayeka goes to tell the expectant guests that food is being served when just as she enters the front room Ryoko’s voice booms from the kitchen the exact news she wanted to tell. Mumbling at how rude shouting in a house is Ayeka still escorts Chichi, Washu, Yamcha and Videl into the dining area of the kitchen for the Saiyans are already sat down staring at the plates of steaming food looking like a pack of ravenous wolves over a fresh kill. Barely managing to control their primal urges to consume all in their path, the Saiyan’s remain in their seats patiently awaiting for all to be sat down before tucking in. Trunks is enjoying being sat next to his dear father for a family meal even with some of the dishes slightly burnt or not on par with what Sasami would be capable of. The lavender haired youth was enjoying it till his place by his father is usurped by Ryoko phasing and floating in the gap between his and Vegeta’s chairs. With a woman on either side of him Vegeta ignores the comments he heard earlier. Every time his plate is devoid of food or his glass empty either Ryoko or Ayeka take it upon themselves to see his insatiable appetite is appeased, all of their offers of food to him are greedily snatched up and devoured instantly without a word.

An adequate meal cooked mainly by a pirate and a princess very unskilled at such domestic duties is quickly engulfed by the gluttonous quintet of Saiyan blood. Before the last plate is cleared the rivals contending against each other are stumbling over each other to be the first to clear away all the dishes, breaking quite a few in the process. Between the apologies for the ruined ceramics and rustle of dresses, Vegeta pretends not to notice all this hard effort the women are putting in due to him. His thoughts are if they see he isn’t paying attention then they shall try harder and push themselves further and show what they are truly capable of.

Not much time has passed since they arrived, well under an hour, but the guests feel they have outstayed their welcome – mainly Goku as if he is around Vegeta for long amounts of time then all hell will be sure to be set loose. They stand up from the table still being cleaned and Vegeta leads them on their way outside saying a short goodbye to who he wants to crush under his boots like a bug. Whilst being thanked for his ‘hospitality’ Washu takes this opportunity to attempt and expand her near infinite database on all organisms. A shout of terror rises from Goku when he sees the hypodermic needle clutched in her hand, his crippling phobia unjustified for this needle was in fact for the youngest of his sons not himself. Caught in the act red handed she freezes with the sedative so close to being injected into its intended victim. The other fully matured woman turns and coldly looks at the one who seems to be threatening her beloved child. Then the menace and rage rise in her eyes.

Lucky for Washu her guardian angel is on standby to protect her. Yamcha moves in-between the two women and takes the blow that would easily split a boulder to his jaw. He rubs the side of his face where the punch landed and keeps the angry Chichi from harming Washu.

“Woah bit protective aren’t we. No need to be alarmed though, all I was trying to do was bridge a gap in my database by analysing a Saiyan-human hybrid.” Washu peeps over Yamcha’s broad shoulders when trying to explain why she was doing what she was. For some reason though the words coming out of Chichi’s mouth are a resounding no concerning consenting for Goten to be a guinea pig at her mercy. Once again Goku has to pacify the acute maternal instincts of his missus. With her calmed down and reluctantly letting Washu off the hook, Chichi follows her husband out of their house and holds his hand as they Instant Transmission back to their own household.

Vegeta is still thinking about what he found out from this meeting with Goku. He knew his suspicions would be proved true but not by such a degree … and then there is the matter of them. A long sigh escapes through his teeth. He turns around to look at the duo behind him. All throughout that meal Ayeka’s cheeks always held some colouration to them and now with his intense gaze on her it intensifies into a strong blush yet again. He knows what is coming. He tasked them with something and promised them a reward so now he shall have to deliver on his promise. Cracking the knuckles of each finger and every vertebrae of his back as he walks over to Ryoko and Ayeka, he braces himself. Seeing the expectant look in the eyes of both women he realises that he might not have been keeping count of what they have been doing. Meeting both of their eyes he begins.

“Both of you have actually managed to pull your own weight and you await the final verdict. You want to know who has done the most work, who shall receive the prize? ….” Ryoko and Ayeka hold their breath in anticipation. This one moment they have been working so hard for is at hand. Vegeta smiles and looks at both women in turn, then looks down at his hands and one by one slowly counts on his fingers each thing the women have done. Both women sweatdrop. After slowly mumbling under his breath their chores and coming to a conclusion he looks back up to them.

“Interesting … . Ayeka, high princess of Jurai …” He focuses his stare on her as her face lights up. “… how does it feel to know that you have…” She smiles joyfully waiting to hear him say those last words and announce her triumph over Ryoko. “… somehow managed to do the same exact amount of work as Ryoko.” Ayeka’s face drops. Both women look shocked at each other, this is most unexpected. As their eyes meet they harden and teeth grit. A row starts as to who did the more important jobs or did it to a better quality. Vegeta quickly interrupts them and the altercation spewing from their mouths.

“Be quiet the both of you, I’m sure the city will be able to cope with both of you accompanying me tomorrow.” They forget their quarrel, although not their preferred outcome they are overjoyed and immensely happy at the prospect of a day out with him. Vegeta’s tongue moved faster than his brain, the city might be able to handle both Ryoko and Ayeka but he is having serious doubts as to whether he can for a full 24 hours.

Throwing on one of his slightly worn out leather jackets, jeans and t-shirts he is ready for the day . He already made the mistake of walking about in public in his Saiyan training gear once. The stares following him, watching him go about his business and laughing behind his back. He recalls that being a day when the hospital in West City saw a sharp rise in number of patients who suffered from trauma sustained in what was chalked down to vehicle related injuries. Next time they shall think twice before mocking the prince of Saiyans. As is expected he is ready long before the two accompanying him are, a full half hour he waits meditating. Why they put such effort into their appearance and not into strengthening themselves still baffles him, females remain as much an enigma to him as they were when he first met Bulma.

Ayeka is the first to appear out of his front door. He told her earlier when he woke up not to dress too extravagantly or else they will draw attention to themselves, apparently he should have also told her that no one else on the planet wears ornate or elaborate robes like they must do on Jurai. She feels her outfit is the most ‘normal’ in her wardrobe and Vegeta would probably have to agree with her on that: a long and flowing dark purple kimono with blue cuffs and collar all tied back with a green and red bow around her waistline. They exchange pleasantries and greetings, he notices her eagerness and can’t blame her for apart from his house there is only one other place on his planet she has seen. Her happy mood soon sours when the second woman walks towards them.

A simple knee length black dress. One single thin red line sprouting from her left shoulder spirals down her dress meeting and terminating at the cut running up and exposing her right thigh. Ryoko once again has attempted to tame her hair back in a ponytail but the wild spikes still mostly prevail and, as per Vegeta’s instructions, has not got her tail accessory adorning her slender waist. The Saiyan prince greets the final person making up their party and with that takes both women’s hands in his own and uses Instant Transmission to take them to the antipode of where his house is located. As the three forms vanish from the lakeside Yamcha, Trunks, Sasami and Washu bid them adieu from the threshold. Right on schedule a blip appears on the horizon. This small black dot swoops across miles of terrain growing in size. Covering the many leagues that lie between his house and that of his best mate Trunks, Goten arrives.

With the whole class all punctual and here the two lovers look down at the three children beaming at them expectantly. Although he kindly offers whatever assistance he can provide to Washu she dismisses his aid preferring to go solo for the first lesson. With shoulders slumped in defeat, the woman with the intellect to rival that of all people on Earth combined reluctantly trudges towards her lab with the kids in tow. They follow her through her dimensional gateway to receive the education they were promised … whilst Washu racks her mind for plans of such cunning ingenuity and guile to alleviate this burdensome task from her magnificent mind. Over a hundred ideas are generated and discarded as she continues to lead them into the deeper and darker depths of her cherished laboratory.

Yamcha has the house to himself, if you don’t count the two feline creatures that are nowhere to be seen. With his help not needed, no pressing issues to contend with and, more importantly, no Saiyan hogging the artificial gravity room he goes to train. Practise makes perfect as they say but practise all he might Yamcha knows there is a very large glass ceiling separating him from those with Saiyan blood running through their veins. He might never be able to save the day or be of any use should anyone choose to attack his homeworld but to him those are no reasons to stop. Just like Vegeta, training his body to be the ultimate weapon is his life and all he has ever really known. Being a professional sportsman might have held many benefits but when there is no challenge to the game the cries and shouts of adoring fans soon turned to hollow echoes rattling round his skull. Only the occasional fight on the pitch would abate his ennui but now he has the facilities to train and someone to fight for. Yamcha would have traded all the wealth he accumulated as the best baseball player the world will ever see, the fame and all his possessions that were stripped from him for a woman to love him without a second thought. Although he knows every single martial art in existence, at 250 times the Earth’s natural gravity he goes over every single move and teaching for Washu.

Minutes tick by and the strength ebbs out of his body from the extreme conditions of the room. Weariness and fatigue set their deep roots into his flesh draining from him his will and ability to continue. He switches off the machine creating the gravity and warms down his muscles before exiting. Yamcha flicks the beads of sweat from his eyes and runs his hands through the thick strands of his mane. Opening his eyes he backs away from a face right in front of his own. Washu had been waiting behind the door leading out of the training chamber for only a bit to startle him and smiles happily from the success of her little jape. She says hello to him whilst he recoils from her sudden appearance, she seems extremely pleased about something and it is unnerving him .

“Uhh yeah hi, I was just thinking about you.” He starts most conversations to Washu with those last few words just to make life for himself easier. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with the little tykes and teaching them stuff?” A cold unseated fear drifts over him as he witnesses her heavenly and lusciously rosy lips morph into a sly grin.

“HAHA! That Vegeta thought he had outsmarted me but he forgot that I, Washu, am the greatest and most beautiful intellectual. He merely tasked me with such a simple thing as giving those children an education but never in which way to do it.” Yamcha starts to think to himself he shouldn’t have left poor innocent children with his mistress of knowledge. “Right this second they are having bestowed upon them all the knowledge that they require from one of my old brilliant inventions! I called it Washu’s cranial data convection helm of scholarship! I whipped this baby up 7 centuries ago and revolutionised learning in five solar systems and now it frees me from such a menial and debasing task, Mwuhahahahahahahah!” The manic cackles of a mad scientist do little to reassure Yamcha about the health and wellbeing of the children in their care. He shouldn’t have left them at the mercy of her. Washu’s cackles are really beginning to freak him out, the crazed eyes and Cheshire smile warping his beloved’s face.

“What is it Yamcha? Is something wrong?” She has noticed the weird and fearful way in which he is now looking at her. As she looks at him with raised eyebrows and a questioning look he starts to panic. The truth would definitely not be the right thing to say in this situation so Yamcha thinks fast.

“Oh…err. .. nothing’s wrong. How could anything be wrong when you’re here. It’s just that once again you astound me with your brilliance … and have a very cute laugh.” He appeals to her massive inflated ego, the one sure thing guaranteed to work and that it does. Washu’s face smiles at him. He weakly smiles back.

“You know flattery will get you everywhere.” Her smile holds none of the earlier manic glee and he lets the breath he had been holding in escape in relief. Washu is always one to repay a good deed with another and so in appreciation for his kind words she affectionately hugs him tightly, he returns the favour embracing her also and tenderly kissing her gently on the flawless skin of her neck.

Meanwhile Vegeta, Ryoko and Ayeka spawn into existence in some quiet suburban alleyway. As always Ayeka has a slight adverse reaction to the instantaneous form of transport, as she winces in discomfort the space pirate looks about the dark and dingy guinnel trying to glimpse what this world has to offer. Ayeka goes to move her hand to her aching stomach as Ryoko tries to take off and fly out of the darkness into the sunlit street. Both fail simultaneously. Ayeka’s hand and Ryoko’s are still being held onto by Vegeta from the Instant Transmission. They look down to see their fingers interlocking his coriaceous, gloveless digits. Vegeta knows what he is doing, he hasn’t suddenly had a massive change in his scarred blackness of a heart but just wanted to grasp their attention. That he certainly has as well as causing slight colour to grace their cheeks at this touch.

“There are some basic rules you must comply with whilst in my company here, I shall not hesitate to take either of you back should you misbehave. Under no circumstances will you fly or show off any of your powers that these weaklings are incapable of, understand Ryoko?” Vegeta is stern and serious, today is not a day he wishes to be messed about by the natives. Any unwanted attention might cause people to recognise who he is, not a public figure but still he was the husband of Bulma Brief the head of Capsule Corporation … and the man who murdered hundreds at the last world tournament in front of television cameras.

“Hey, why me?” Ryoko looks disheartened at not being able to use her favourite form of travel, she always feel so liberated and free when her feet aren’t touching the ground.

“You were just about to fly out of this passageway, were you not?” Ryoko nods, unenthusiastically agreeing to the laws he is laying down. A small price to pay for Vegeta to hold hands with her and stay with her for a full day. The modest princess never planned on such extravagant conduct when out in public but there is one thing she has been thinking about though.

“Lord Vegeta will we not stand out at all, some of us do have rather striking appearances.” Vegeta for a second thought she might have had something constructive to say, not something fuelled by vanity.

“Why thank you Ayeka for noticing. But no need to worry about my beauty, I’m used to the attention.” Gripping Vegeta’s hand with both of hers and pulling closer to him, Ryoko annoys Ayeka by turning her statement against her.

“Ha what utter drivel, the only reason people look at you are those massive and, quite frankly, ridiculous ears of yours.” The aforementioned appendages twitch, sticking clean out of the unsuccessfully ponytailed hair of Ryoko. Vegeta can see just where this day is destined to end up. Ryoko strikes back. This insult will not be met with an offhand remark or trading of witticisms, releasing one of her delicate hands from Vegeta she then proceeds to throw herself at him. Caressing him with the dark sleeves of her costume wrapping around the prince’s well built chest.

“Vegeta, Ayeka’s being mean to me. You don’t think my ears look silly do you?” The prince of all Saiyans does not appear to be amused. It has been less than a minute and the bickering has already begun. Looking up to the face of Ryoko with her feigned innocence and across to the growling princess of Jurai, Vegeta chooses to amend the rules he set.

“Can both of you try and behave yourselves? It’s not much to ask is it? For this one day: no fighting, no arguing and try to get along.” He watches as both women’s eyes continue to linger on the other, neither breaking this glare.

“OK! Let’s go!” Ryoko stops glowering and just smiles contently at Vegeta. Ayeka does not fail to notice the extreme proximity of Ryoko to Vegeta or how she is nuzzling closer and resting her cheeks on his broad shoulders. The Saiyan doesn’t seem to mind the cyan haired beauty clinging onto him and it seems to be keeping her quiet and out of trouble which is all fine by him. However, he is not so blind as to see this is only pleasing one of the two women whereas the other’s eyes are boring maliciously straight into the back of Ryoko, very evil thoughts being directed that way. Vegeta is seeing this situation to only have one viable solution, to treat both women perfectly equally.

“Come now.” With Ayeka’s hand still in his he pulls her in closer. She is startled at finding herself face to face with him, her body next to his with an arm offered towards her. Her pretty face starts to warm and glow at this gesture as she accepts it and slowly links arms with Vegeta. Hesitantly she looks at him to see if he is Ok with such a public show of affection but as always his face yields as much emotion as a the brick wall behind him. Ryoko frowns for a few seconds seeing this but in the end decides that she is the one hugging Vegeta and all Ayeka is doing is linking arms so soon becomes happy again as they take their first steps to leave this grimy alley. Leading the way into the sun’s rays and straight into a bustling street full of humans going about their business with a woman in tow on either side of him, Vegeta heads off on his way striding purposefully towards his objective within this city he previously resided in. The hubbub of urban life distracts all homo sapiens briskly walking past and overtaking the three aliens. Blinded to these strangers in their midst by the blinkers of modern day living, not a single person stops to observe their surroundings for if they did then they would be treated to the sight of a Saiyan prince strolling down the high street with a Juraian princess and a notorious pirate from beyond the stars. Human civilisation may be at its pinnacle, a glistening spectacle of technology, yet both Ayeka and Ryoko have seen wonders from the heavens that by far surpass this city.

With the duo attached to him still surveying these new surroundings and taking it all in, Vegeta arrives at his first port of call. A small one story shop sandwiched in between towering skyscrapers, looking nearly as out of place as he does in this environment. As he walks towards the doorway of the shop, princess and pirate see the magnificent arrays of flowers and flora displayed in the window. He is taking them into a florist’s, the name of this establishment long since faded from the worn and aged wooden sign hanging above the door the trio walk through. Striking their nostrils is the heady aroma arising from the multitude of multi-coloured blooms. Once past the entranceway Vegeta disentangles himself from the females and heads to the counter and begins placing his order in a hushed tone. The stout and diminutive fellow, a full head shorter then the prince, in a simple brown overcoat and flat cap disappears off into the back to fetch Vegeta’s order. Turning around and leaning on the weathered and jaded ash counter a very slight smile plays across the face of the warrior, seeing the women so enraptured and engrossed by the natural beauty of the beauteous blossoms covering every wall of this cosy shop. Without his eyes leaving the charming womenfolk now turned to face his way his hand slips into his pocket and retrieves from it several green tinted bits of rectangular paper with many markings on it, the idea of paper based currency is not one common to many planets except for Earth, and places them down on the counter. Rustling out of the back room carrying the bouquet of flowers, the short and stocky shop keeper takes the money and the exchange is complete. Picking up his purchase he strides back towards the women, they seem incredibly jubilant at his approach brandishing flowers.

“Oh Lord Vegeta they are most splendid, they remind me just of the flowers that grew around the palace gardens back on Jurai.”

“Hey! He bought those for me not some snotty, jumped up despot. Isn’t that right Vegeta?” The smile falls from his face as the usual, inescapable squabbling is soon to escalate. The whole world does not revolve around either of them as much as they like to think so.

“These flowers are for none of you so stop with this incessant babbling.” That intrigues the women as well as silencing them. Only thinking about themselves and this special day of theirs they fail to see the bigger picture, but one other person exists whom he would offer flowers to and they dwell nearby. Looking the other way and pretending to be busy with his stock, the shop keeper sees it as in his best interest to ignore this little domestic and forget about these strange customers still in his store. Stuffing the bouquet’s base into one of the pockets on the back of his pair of jeans he once again extends his arms out to be taken by Ayeka Jurai and Ryoko the pirate. The two of them both are just a tad unsure when intertwining their arms with his, bedevilled by this mystery of the person Vegeta thinks deserves the romantic gift of flowers more so than either of them. As soon as they have made contact with him Vegeta continues on his way, not waiting to dispel the doubts building in their minds or answer the questions flying around their heads. Vegeta maintains a hard and fast pace, urgency lending itself to his strides as they round corner after corner turning this way and that till the building is in front of them.

Large and yellow is the hemispherical building they find themselves at, rings of windows dotting around the circumference and two prominent and jutting towers on the roof. Above the double doors is the name of the company headquarters they are at painted in big bold letters, it reads ‘Capsule Corporation’. What was once his house is not where he is looking, the steely eyes of the prince are locked firmly on the small gladed alcove hidden away in the far corners of the expansive gardens. The feet of the Saiyan do not move for a full minute, rooted to the spot as an inundation of memories flood themselves mercilessly before him. The best years of his life were here in this place, where he shed himself of solitude and took on the mantle of a husband and a father. A mere bitter reminiscence of happier times and days long since in the past. A boot falls falteringly in front of the other. The pronounced musculature of his Saiyan being is tense as it normally is when on the cusp of battle. Petite fingers squeeze his hand in a comforting manner. Her reassuring smile gives him the much needed boost of confidence to face what he must confront, Ayeka releases her hand from his and stands back to give him the room and privacy he obviously wants. Such a slight nod from Vegeta’s head directed at her as his feet start on the path across the verdant emerald lawn and Ryoko disentangling herself from him along the way looking bemused at what is happening.

Barred from their view by the pruned Leylandii hedges skirting around this most special area, Vegeta gently pulls out his offering from the back of his scruffy jeans and kneels down bowing his head. Purest white as virgin snow are the bunch of roses within his well used fists, their sharp thorns failing to pierce his hardened hide much unlike something else. Petals fall like snowflakes, drifting down gracefully before hitting the cold, hard stone and settling there for evermore to wither and decay. Smatterings of colour punctuate the immaculate bouquet, brightest cerulean and a golden centre. Forget-me-nots the people of Earth call them, Vegeta cares little for the symbolism behind these dying stalks but the colour reminded him of her hair and those deep and caring eyes. The flowers thud onto the grave. Stone stares back at him, words etched onto the tomb his only company. For the first time in a year he has returned to pay his respects to Bulma, a deep wrenching within bleeds afresh. Her parents have kept the gravesite well tended, no dirt or overgrowth to mar where she lays. The anniversary of her death came and passed him by during his own visit to the realm beyond life.

“ … I’m here … .” Words escape him as all his view is taken up by that of the burial place of who was once his wife before Death wrenched her from him. “ … I … I miss you. … We all do … .Not a day goes by where my thoughts don’t go out to you and the life we shared together.” Eagle like vision becomes clouded and blurred. “ Trunks …our son … he needs you, as do I. Why did it have to be this way? … I should have been the one taken if there were any justice left in this universe save for that fool Kakarot… He was the damn one who used up the antidote before you had a chance to synthesise more, we should have prepared. I should have thought about such things instead of being so blinded by my petty-mindedness, what good is my strength if I can’t even protect my wife from micro-organisms … You should have told us you were ill and suffering. You didn’t though, you kept it to yourself … why? Why, WHY?! WWWHHHHYYYYYY?!?!?!” Light erupts into the heavens, a flash of lightning bursting forth as his true form is unchained. Lengthened spikes of shining gold fall down his shoulders and face as grief tightens its pitiless grip. “ Never did you get to see me like this … to you I shall always be second best to Kakarot: the failure, the disappointment and you deserved better than that… I swear – I swear on your honour and memory that I will protect your planet and Trunks, my life is nothing if I cannot do these things for you. I will make sure he grows up to be a strong fighter like me … and as smart and amazing as you were.” His hands resting on the grave are careful not to shatter or break the fragile stone, rubbing the growing moisture blinding his sight he sees a glowing red imprint. Solid marble warped and deformed under the energy barely contained in his body. A palm print, his palm print beneath the clichéd epitaph. Standing up straight he recoils away before he can cause more damage, it seems the only thing he is good at is leaving a blazing path of destruction in his wake. Beauty is taken by flames until a smouldering pile of ashes is all that is left on top of her grave, falling petals turned to embers. Ragged breaths erupt out of his throat as he tries to control the raging emotions within him or else he will forfeit what minimal control he has over the ki radiating from being in the third state of super Saiyan.

Whooshing from air displacement and the swishing sound of movement in a dress, the two new women in his life have come to check on him. Neither expected the splendour of his super Saiyan 3 transformation but fear it they do not. Flashes of brilliance spark and flare dangerously as he illuminates the vicinity, they cease when he feels the touch of their hands on the beefed up muscles of his shoulders. Shrinking back down so he is shorter than Ryoko again, muscle mass decreasing and hair shortening and raising he turns to look at them as a man not a legend. After briefly explaining to Ryoko what she had observed to be the case for their visit to this place and witnessing all the clouds in the sky being burnt out of existence, Ayeka thought it was for the best if maybe just this once Vegeta was not alone. If he feels anything like she did during that long and hard month during his departure from the mortal coil then he surely will welcome his loneliness being abated, for Vegeta she will ignore Ryoko’s presence for the time being. A time to mourn and respect the dead is not one the Saiyan prince really wants people to see him at, attributing any show of emotion to physical weakness as it was drilled into him all those decades ago by his father. A father who is also deceased. All he has left is his son and Kakarot, debating it in his mind possibly the ones stood by him.

“Lady Ayeka, Ryoko. Th- …This is my wife Bulma, or her remains. As I can’t meet her in the afterlife this is all I will ever have of her, that and my son.” His fingers point like a gun towards the place of internment, his eyes following achingly with a desperate pining hidden in the frosty depths of his facial apertures. “I…I have said my piece now, there is no point in lingering here and- ”

“Lord Vegeta, I could say a prayer for her soul if you would like.” A kind offer, it is the least she can give to him in this state of bereavement. Ryoko vanishes, uncomfortable with this situation that cuts too close to the bone – for just over a day ago she was in the exact same shoes as her prince is now. Not wanting to be reminded of her inner pain and anguish she flees leaving him alone with Ayeka. Vegeta’s cold black stare loses its soft edge of tenderness and loving, thick set brows frown and veins stand out on his forehead.

“A prayer to whom, to the gods of Jurai? Some pathetic cult?! An impotent deity?! Who? Come on don’t be shy, for all you know I could have met them in my travels in the afterlife. Wait, no. No. THERE IS NO HIGHER BEING! Three times I have been to that fucking place and no gods or goddesses have I heard mentioned, let alone seen. What good is a prayer when there is no one to hear it let alone care about it? If such things as gods exist then they long ago forsook me to this damned existence.” Such an outburst of his built up frustration and wrath, religious views are an extremely bad topic for someone who only recently got out of eternal damnation. Suffering, torment, agony and excruciating mind breaking pain; flashes of how his fate differs so much from the goody two shoes Goku erupt through his brain. Aghast with the implications of what he is saying, Ayeka is struggling to think straight. All her life she had believed in that of the Great Goddess Tsunami who watches over all of Jurai granting her people power and prosperity in her benevolent guidance. In one fell swoop Vegeta tears down her unquestionable faith, how can one argue against someone who has seen the other side. Pants of aggravation carve from in-between his grating teeth. Gradually he calms himself and his breathing reverts back to silent inhalations, he didn’t mean to lose his cool like that but such things as Hell scar a man’s mind.

“I-I didn’t mean to offend you Lord Vegeta … i-it’s just … I was only trying to – ” Feeling as if she is in the wrong and needing to apologise to him, for he is the one lamenting over his deceased wife, she tries to think of anything to say. Whilst all the time trying to cope with the undeniable fact that, according to Vegeta, Tsunami does not exist and never did. Her mind is still in disarray and the Saiyan sees that, messing with someone’s views on the world or their beliefs is something he did not intend.

“Sorry Lady Ayeka, I got carried away. What would I know of gods when I see but the infernal half? You believe what you want to and it would please me if you prayed for Bulma.” A hackneyed apology. How the tables turned so quickly, she came to see if she could comfort a husband at his wife’s tombstone yet now it is he who has to offer the reassurance since he pulled the rug from beneath her feet. Dirt gets onto her impeccably polished shoes as she shifts her feet, her head bowed facing the grass and dainty fingers clasped together in front of her stomach. Glancing up at him her amethyst eyes move across to the slab marked with the hand of Vegeta, she nods silently and steps towards him and Bulma’s well maintained grave. Muttering the prayer under her breath she does what little she can and receives a warmish smile from Vegeta as thanks. The solemn atmosphere wanes as a slight hiss expulses air where Ryoko now stands holding something in her two hands. Replicating what Vegeta did she places them on the tombstone and stands back up wincing as she looks at her pricked fingers.

“Ryoko, those flowers are from my- Bulma’s parent’s garden are they not?” With clumps of damp soil still clinging to the uprooted flowers it is not difficult to decipher where she got them from. Still not used to any of the customs of this planet, like a small child she copied the behaviour of the others around her in an attempt to fit in. Those feline eyes of hers look at him expectantly to see if she did the right thing or not. Blood runs down her fingers and drips down onto the turf right next to the monument of Bulma’s lack of life. A simple curt nod directed at her and her efforts tell her she has done right, or moderately so – Vegeta is pleased that his wife’s grave has a tribute of flowers on them after he incinerated the first lot. “That is that. I do not want to talk about this for the rest of the day … now I … I am yours for the remainder of this day.” Beckoning them to his side again their faces are happy once more after the sombre affair. Vegeta methodically wipes away the liquid released from the sharp thorns of the roses from Ryoko’s hands, her skin is nowhere near as leathery or hardened by the holocausts he has lived through. The triad saunter off out of Capsule Corporation grounds and into the city.

“ … and so simply by carrying over the googolplex to the power nine I substituted the Xenium for the less stable Tiberium. Which I transmogrified at a molecular level to exponentially extend its half life to around 15.57 times its original value and reverse the polarity of its neutron flow. Incorporating these into the core central processing units of the picochips allowed the super computer to be able to handle ternary coding … you understand now?” Laying down with her arms propping up her lore filled head she observes the movements of visible liquid droplets suspended far up and accurately judging the chances of precipitation – this cloud will not rain she deduces. Stretched out on a plaid picnic blanket with Yamcha laying by her side gazing up at the azure welkin, semi rolling over so she now faces him. Washu can easily tell that what she said went completely over his head. In one ear and out the other he has no earthly idea what half of the words she said meant, he is listening to her but even Gohan would have trouble following her putting stuff in what she thinks are layman’s terms. Ryo-ohki splishes and splashes as she frolics in the shallows of the lake, she has really taken to Puar as a playmate as has Yamcha’s familiar. Such simple pleasures are what he has to offer her: his company and the majestic scenery of Earth. She scowls at his lack of attention or acknowledgement to the story of one of her first major accomplishments when still in her preliminary years in the prestigious Science Academy.

“So … Yamcha. Why didn’t you treat me to a lovely little day out in the city?” Turning to face her with a smile, Yamcha sighs to himself contently.

“Mainly for the fact I don’t have a penny to my name. You don’t strike me as a dinner and a movie kinda girl to be honest, what would you do in the city besides research? Anyway Vegeta did give me specific instructions not to let you loose in public.”

“What, he told you to keep an eye on little old me? What could I possibly do, someone as cute as me couldn’t possibly ever do anything bad.” The sham of her pretending to be just another harmless woman incapable of causing widespread panic or mayhem elicits great amusement and mirth as they both chuckle at this little charade. Loud meows fail to distract the lovebirds as Ryo-ohki and Puar instigate a frenzied bout of splashing the other, each trying to hold out against the feline nature of hating getting wet.

“You know Yamcha it would be a doddle for me to hack into the central server of a bank and redistribute some of the wealth if you get what I mean. Solve all your financial problems and then maybe we might be able to get someplace for just the two of us, sound good?” Not currently a highwayman, Yamcha has maybe a few qualms about stealing but her with that cheeky little grin and those alluring eyes he might have to take her up on that proposal. The wolf warrior is about to fall into her seductive claws. Their lips just about to graze against each other to seal the deal when a loud slam interrupts them, thwarting Washu’s plan.

Trunks clutches his head, the lavender hair of his displaced as he tore off the thing causing him blinding pain. A crumpled ring of silvery alloys clangs onto the floorboards from his hands, distorted out of shape with half the array of glimmering lights fixed to it shattered. Goten follows and two more of Washu’s inventions lay broken outside her lab. Staggering out of the doorway with the world spinning around them come the Saiyan-human hybrids, minds still awhirl after what was done to them. Goku’s child also has the additional hassle of having to carry Sasami for she appears to have blacked out in the wake of the unorthodox education, one of her ponytails has come undone and half her head of hair drags across the ground nearly tripping up the young lad. Hardly a few feet beyond the interdimensional portal and all their progress stops. Senses overloaded after the upload: vision unfocused, all balance gone and an irritating high pitched whining whistling through their attuned Saiyan ears. Knees begin to buckle and the younger of the two boys loses himself to the blackness of unconsciousness and spills Sasami onto the fall. Vegeta’s son does not notice his friend collapsing, he is incapable of perception, and so trips and falls over Goten. All three children that Yamcha and Washu were entrusted with our out cold.

Yamcha’s blood freezes, this does not bode well. His eyes dart worriedly to Washu who is still looking at him as if nothing has happened and she hasn’t done anything wrong. Sometimes he wishes that she had just a tad more empathy for others, or at the very least a better understanding of the consequences of what she does. Quick as the winds he is knelt beside the children, he lets out a loud sigh seeing that they are still breathing. Nudging them, calling their names; all of it is ineffective in waking them from this inflicted torpor.

“Oh leave them be, just need a little rest that’s all. It’s going to take a bit of time for new neural pathways to be forged and all of the great gift I have bequeathed them to be fully absorbed. C’mon you think I’d do something without running a full risk assessment first?” Washu’s nonchalant and dismissive behaviour concerning the comatose state of the infants as she leans against the doorway does not make Yamcha feel any better, or confident in answering her last question. Weakly he smiles at her before turning back to the children and heaving their unmoving bodies onto his shoulders. As always he has to do the physical work of lugging about the repercussions of whatever Washu does, with the children set down upon their beds he returns to his woman.

“Ooh hey! Vegeta let’s go in there next, I’m bored of all this walking around.” Long and elegant fingers point from Ryoko towards the small little restaurant just across the road from where they are. It doesn’t look that much, just your bog standard restaurant with a waiter stood by the door ready to welcome in any would be customers. The princess on the other hand is used to finer dining than what would be served in such an average café, being brought up as royalty normally is she has very low opinions of such mediocre establishments.

“Why would we want to waste such a perfect day in a place like that, you obviously have no taste at all Ryoko. I am sure that where Lord Vegeta is taking us is a much nicer place than that dump.” Both Ryoko and Ayeka look at the man in-between them to resolve this, he looks across at both of them and then to the small restaurant.

“To be frank I have no bloody idea where we are or where we are heading.” Ryoko and Ayeka both sweatdrop, taken aback by a response they were not bargaining for – a guide that does not know their location and has no destination in mind. As they question him about what he means by that and what they are doing or going to do about it he takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.

“I might have lived in this city for over a decade but do I look like I normally go about a place filled with such pathetic worms? Never really explored this city, never had any real need or inclination to.”

“So let’s go to that food place over there then, I’m hungry.” Her feelings over the subject of food are perfectly reciprocated in Vegeta, a Saiyan’s stomach is never full and always demanding more sustenance and nourishment. Saiyan’s are born hungry and die still craving for food.

“You aren’t the only one here Ryoko, we shall go there unless Lady Ayeka has any objections on the choice of venue for lunch.” The Juraian royal smiles softly at him.

“If that is where you wish to go Lord Vegeta it is where I want to go too.” That’s that then, matter sorted as far as Vegeta is concerned. If these two women both agree on the same thing then he isn’t going to complain and if food is thrown into the bargain too then it is an offer he simply cannot refuse. Luckily for them the restaurant is deserted and they get seated straight away at a table designed for a lot more than their current party. Ten chairs are placed around this large circular table, the largest in the small restaurant, Vegeta chose this table for a reason that will soon become clear. Lank and with a small little curled moustache, the only waiter appearing to be on shift at what should be one of the busiest times for a food selling place brings the menus over to the table. Vegeta flicks open the menu and glances down it, nothing unusual just the normal typical fare expected to be found in this city. Closing his menu, having already decided on what he shall order, he sees another problem has presented itself. Blank stares emanate from the duo sat either side of him directed at the menu they hold in their hands. The Saiyan overlooked their inability to read the written language, never mind even if he read out the menu to them, as patronising as that would be for these adult women, he’d still have to contend with neither woman knowing most of the names of any ingredients or meats used.

“I’ll take the lot.”

“B-but sir -” Vegeta’s eyes narrow at this back talk from the servant, there goes his tip straight away.

“I said I will have all that this place sells, I can pay so jump to it.” The waiter hurries off into the kitchen, something about the heartless, black pits of the pupils staring at him invoked a great unquestionable fear. Vegeta watches the pitiful worm scurry off with a smug sense of satisfaction, he has intimidation down to an art form now. “You don’t mind that I ordered for you, you can eat what you want and whatever is left shall be mine.” Ayeka or Ryoko do not seem to care about this arrangement and swiftly find out that he got this table purely for there to be just enough room for the food to be set down before them. Ryoko shuffles her chair closer to Vegeta’s so she can cuddle into his shoulder, he simply looks down at her, long since surrendered to such actions to occur today. So has Ayeka apparently, inside she is wishing many ill things to befall the space pirate but the prince asked her to behave so she will just have to put on a brave face and pretend it doesn’t bother her. With no other customers to serve it is not too long before the starters soon begin to arrive on the table, being brought across by the lone waiter trip after trip. Vegeta eyes the salads warily, if push comes to shove he will eat greenery but his true diet is carnivorous in nature, thankfully though the Juraian royal seems quite keen on these healthy dishes. Ryoko is considering the idea of a liquid lunch as she sees a tray of bottles brought to the table, ordering everything on the menu also included the wine list on the back which had at the very least 30 different types of wine on it. A loud and ominous creak cracks through the air as she leans on Vegeta whilst chugging the contents of a 75 year old Chianti which draws her and Ayeka’s attention as they see that he is actually not properly sitting down on his chair. His feet are touching the floor but the seat of his trousers are not connecting with that of the chair, still restraining himself from the bounty of food till the women have had their fill, he simply says to them he is wearing clothing of a weight he doubts the chair would be able to manage.

“You want to join me for a little drinkie? C’mon sourpuss lighten up and have some.” Inebriation is clouding the mind of the pirate as she tries to get Vegeta to consume the alcoholic drinks along with her.

“No, think on it this way: the less I drink the more there is for you.” With her being fairly tipsy by this point is the only reason she accepts this weak logic … and makes her way onto the next bottle of wine. Only one of the bottles was left for Ayeka. The bottle that contained the wine of the lowest alcoholic concentration was yielded from Ryoko to Ayeka after Vegeta read the percentages for them. As the Saiyan clears the table of all remaining comestibles, the second round of food is piled high onto the solid table struggling to support the weight placed on top of it. A young couple helplessly in love wander into the restaurant and get a table on the far side of the dining room.

“Vegey why do they get stuff like that? Can we have those things for our little romantic meal?” She is referring to the candles and single red rose placed in a long slender glass vase, even with her mind slightly handicapped by the copious amounts of drink she sees this difference in treatment between their table and that of the only other customers. The princess notices this also but doesn’t want to make a fuss over such inconsequential things.

“Don’t call me that. I am a Saiyan warrior not some pet like your Ryo-ohki.” Happy and content as he possibly can be during the time in which he is eating always has to get spoiled by something, or someone. Such a disgraceful thing to be called, only someone with no sense of honour or pride would ever voluntarily agree to such a demeaning title.

“But all couples have cute nicknames for each other.”

“You are not a couple though Ryoko, heaven forbid some poor soul ever getting paired with you.” Ayeka can no longer just stand by and takes action.

“Vegey she’s being mean to me again.” Heavy drinking does normally lead to an increase in physical intimacy one way or another, but her affectionate squeeze as she hugs him could simply be by virtue of her normal behaviour. He carries on eating despite the hindrance of a space pirate latched onto him, the conversation would but only escalate into an argument between the two women if it were carried on. The rest of the meal passes by in relative silence, Vegeta paying little or no heed to the woman sat on opposing sides of him unless it is concerning an offer of food which he is always appreciative of. Little things like his words of thanks and gratitude, the minimal amount of compassion he is willing to show, is enough for Ayeka. She doesn’t require the security of feeling his body next to hers like Ryoko, although she would not complain if such a thing were to happen. Stuffing his face with the bounty of surprisingly good quality steaks and mountains of potato products, Vegeta doesn’t seem to glance up from the plates laid in front of him. Despite the smooth skin of a certain space farer being rubbed against him and the kind and open hearted Ayeka he tries to keep himself focused on food alone and not these sirens of temptation. Not long does it take for the boyfriend and girlfriend to pull themselves away from each other to observe slack jawed the overwhelming lack of decorum from their neighbouring diners. More food than has ever been prepared at once is all consumed by a single man without pause. A thick wad of notes are left behind on top of the landscape of plates and cutlery in payment for the food that filled a small corner of Vegeta’s cavernous stomach. Fed but not watered he leaves after paying the bill, all the drink being alcoholic in nature he daren’t touch the firewater.

Back with Ryoko on his left and Ayeka on his right they step back out into the sunlight reflecting off of the glass panes and shining metal panels of the city. They both had maybe a tad too much to drink, as indicated by their inability to walk in a perfectly straight line – or a line of any kind altogether. The princess had but one bottle of the wine compared to Ryoko’s several dozen, despite this she does have a much lower and more human tolerance for it. Stagger left then stagger right, the swaying motion of their movements are kept in line by Vegeta’s anchoring arms linked with theirs.

“Ugh your breath stinks Ryoko. If you’re going to go around smelling up the place and ruining this nice clean atmosphere please go and do it far away from me and Lord Vegeta.”

“Well your breath is nearly as bad as that putrid perfume you douse yourself with princess. OW!” Vegeta tenses his huge biceps and puts pressure on the arms of the women trapped within them to stop this trading of insults between the intoxicated duo.

“One more peep out of you two drunkards and I will call an end to this trip.” The Saiyan is dead serious, he has had far too much social interaction than he would like for one day … and he has a bad feeling that if things continue then the two women’s behaviour will severely degrade. Even though under the influence anyone with half a brain would know he will go through with that threat so neither woman dares push it even though their animosity between each other still hangs thick in the air.

“I ain’t no drunkard. Look and see, I’m perfectly sober.” Ryoko has sneakily utilised her ki to dispel the toxins circulating through her blood stream and eradicate her besottedness. Ayeka can only look at this enviously with fuzzy eyes, how she wishes that she was capable of shifting this foul affliction instantaneously. She yelps in surprise as a sharp and hot feeling rushes through her arm and disperses throughout her body attacking and destroying all remnants of the lunch time drink. Vegeta granted her wish for clear headedness, if when sober they test his patience to the utmost limit he does not want to be pushed over the brink by liquor fuelled antics.

“… Do either of you have a place you would like to go to or an activity – no Ryoko – or an activity you want to do.” Vegeta can read the space pirate like a book and didn’t have to wait for her to open her mouth before shooting down in flames whatever indecent act she was going to mention. For this he gets Ryoko pouting at him, not happy that she did not get a chance to say it and so annoy Ayeka, and also a very quick response from the crass vixen .

“What? I didn’t say anything. You do know it’d be a lot easier for me to choose where to go if you bothered to tell us what was actually here to choose from.”

“Why should you be the one to choose Ryoko, you just had your turn with that restaurant. I think it should be me who gets the choice of our next destination.” Vegeta nods stiffly agreeing with Ayeka’s viewpoint and starts reciting the few buildings and places within this city that he has knowledge of. One by one he exhausts the list as, not surprisingly, the only places he can name are those that don’t appeal too much to a Juraian princess :butchers or other food shops mainly and one gym that Vegeta visited once just to totally humiliate and emasculate all those within it to alleviate a foul mood he was in that day. Screeching caws break the silence as Vegeta thinks about what his former wife might have mentioned concerning things to do in the city.

“ … well there is also the beach.” Ayeka’s eyes glisten happily as her face erupts with a happy smile.

“Oh Lord Vegeta please can we go to the beach, it has always been a dream of mine to visit the coast. Jurai only has lakes on it and so I have always wanted to go to the seaside ever since hearing about it when I was a child. Can we Lord Vegeta?” Seeing no reason why not he offhandedly agrees to this idea as Ayeka’s great mirth gets the better of her. Before realising what she is doing she has brazenly hugged Vegeta tightly, smiling without a care in the world and drawing the looks of many passers-by. Focused solely on the weird machine attached to a wall that appears to be dispensing money to whoever uses it, Ryoko turns and sees to her dismay that her place has been usurped. In her eyes she is supposed to be the one cuddling Vegeta like that not this other woman.

“HEY! What do you think you’re doing?! Hands off him missy, he’s mine.” Gritting her teeth as she spins around to see Ayeka with Vegeta in this manner, she roughly shoves the princess clinging onto her man away and takes back her place. The Saiyan pulls Ayeka back as she nearly gets pushed directly into the constant stream of traffic whizzing past on the road whilst getting his other arm pinned against him by the body of Ryoko possessively pressing itself to him. Purple hair wafts itself in front of the young royal’s face from the speeding vehicles as a great red blush takes over her fair features realising what she just did in public.

“I belong to no one Ryoko, Saiyans are not possessions to be owned … not since Frieza was blasted to a million pieces. If the beach is where we are heading then I suppose that we all require clothing suitable for swimming and such.” Being blessed with a nose that could sniff a fresh kill from several miles away he cannot lose his way to the ocean but finding a clothing shop might prove differently.

Lightning bolts shoot through his skull as Trunks starts to stir. Siting up on the cold wooden flooring he glances about and punches his friend in the arm to wake him up. A cry of complaint from Goten as he is woken up rudely and they both try and figure out how they got to this room, the last thing they remember is being given a weird circlet from Washu. The pain from an experience they cannot remember has not abated at all during their slumber. Being of Saiyan blood they shirk the discomfort and wander out of the room in search of the adults, leaving behind Sasami still down for the count after they check she is Ok. Stumbling on unsure and wobbly legs they get to the top of the staircase and stop, deciding it would be unwise for them to traverse the steps in their current condition. A figure below them is sashaying seductively towards the other.

Utilising all of her womanly charms and assets to the maximum, Washu glides casually towards Yamcha. Hips swaying, chest thrust forward with her shoulders thrown back and a mysterious twinkle hidden within her emerald eyes … all the time keeping her hands and what they hold behind her back. Trying to tear his eyes away from her captivating legs and the rest of her body slowly but surely advancing on him, Yamcha knows full well what she is up to. She has chosen not to respect his opinion and instead is surreptitiously trying to get him to agree with what she thinks would be best, the thing that took down Saiyan children loosely hanging in her fingers. Resisting her feminine charms and wiles as best as he can against someone as stunningly ravishing as the greatest scientist of the universe, Yamcha takes small hesitant steps backwards away from Washu. A conflicted feeling of ambiguity clashes in the mind of the wolf warrior, whether to fall for the gorgeous temptation before him or stand his ground and not allow her to have her own nefarious way yet again. His bare feet shuffle towards the front door some more.

“Where you going Yamcha? Just come with me and I’ll show you things you couldn’t ever imagine in your wildest dreams. No need to be scared or worried. Do you think I would hurt my Yamcha?”

“Look Washu I told you no, I am not going to have that thing of yours go messing with my brain.”

“Stop being so difficult. Come on Yamcha just trust me, hehe. Think. If you utilise my cranial data convection helm of scholarship then both of us would be super geniuses, your intellect would be close to mine. Try to think of all the things we could do together, you’d be able to help me out in my research and it might even heighten your fighting abilities. Yamcha and Washu, masters of the mind and the universe will tremble before our monumental brain power, ha. Mwuhahaha!”

“No means no Washu. I am who I am and don’t want to get altered by any of your tech, no matter how good you say it is. Android 18 might be a damn sight better at fighting than me but Krillin’s told me how much she hates what Doctor Gero did to her.” Yamcha stays adamant in his decision whilst all the time gradually edging his way out of the front door and onto the green turf with Washu hounding him every step of the way. Every human is born with a great fear of the unknown and to Yamcha most things concerning Washu are mysteries to him. Scared of the device and the mind altering abilities of it, his lover chooses to ignore the growing look of dread on his face. Stupendous intellect and always having been the smartest person wherever she has roamed throughout the galaxy led to her developing a very strong sense of superiority to all around her. For Washu what she thinks or believes has to be the right thing, unquestionably so, everyone else’s opinions are wrong logically because she is the smartest and therefore more capable of forming the correct thought. The scientist’s frustration builds at this defiance of her will, who is he to question the decisions of Washu. Then to top it all off, no longer restricted by being inside a building, Yamcha flippantly takes both feet off of the ground and proceeds to levitate just high enough that she cannot reach him.

“No! Yamcha! Why do you have to be so stubborn, just get down right now and do as I say.” Fuming at her inability to persuade him with her charms or reason, she stomps her feet and shouts at him. The composure of Washu has broken, Yamcha can see the menace in her eyes and thinks that it is probably best to stay a few feet above her. “I won’t do that thing you really enjoy ever again if you don’t put on my brilliant invention.” He stretches out and gazes up at the sky. “Yamcha don’t you turn your back on me!” Ignoring her, he relaxes and tries to forget about the irate woman mad with rage beneath him. That is until she leaps up far enough that she manages to get him. A sharp cry of pain from Yamcha as he feels the full weight of Washu dangling from the long tail of hair flowing from his scalp. She wins this round as he begins to descend, or so she thinks. One sonic boom later and no longer is she holding onto his hair but instead floating off the ground and caught in Yamcha’s burly arms with her own slender limbs trapped against her body.

“Wha -? Let me go! Grrr, I don’t -” She knows it is fruitless but fidgets as best she can to escape. His calm demeanour just feels like he is trying to humiliate and belittle her, something she detests nearly as much as Vegeta does.

“Sh, calm down Washu. You’re getting worked up over nothing. Just take a deep breath and stop this silliness, my answer is still no Washu.” Soothing words and a kind smile emanate from him. Washu’s anger blinds her to these things, all she has on her mind is that she is being held captive in the air with her legs kicking about like a petulant child.

“Silly? Did you call me silly?! I am the best scientific prodigy that has ever and will ever exist! Put me down and release me now!”

“Washu, you’ll always be the smartest person to me. Forget about it.” She is making this very hard work for him, his efforts being wafted away like his strength in any battle he has participated in the last two decades. He loosens his grip on her, receiving a worried look from Washu as she fears a drop from 10ft onto solid ground, and gently but firmly holds her aloft in the air by her womanly hips. The gamble he made has paid off, she is not making any move to put the dangerous headpiece upon his noggin.

“I will not, this is of major importance.” He moves his face close to hers and looks deep into her eyes. Fires burn down to quiet embers, the wrath of a woman believing herself to be scorned dies. The vivid green eyes of the woman he fell in love with no longer stare fixed at him with malice or intent. “Why don’t you want me to improve you? Yamcha, I just thought you’d like it if we had more in common … I can show you all the statistics showing how safe – .” CRASH! Both adults turn to look at the source of the noise, floating down to solid earth again they see the cause of the disturbance. Goten is laying face first down at the bottom of the stairs. A muted groan of pain from Goku’s child and guffaws of laughter from Vegeta’s child who dared the still addled Goten to take on the challenge of successfully navigating the staircase. The second son of Goku rolls over onto his back and nimbly flips back onto his feet … and then falls flat on his face once again.

“Safe? Honestly?” He questions Washu with this evidence proving the contrary to what she was about to say.

“They’re alive aren’t they. It won’t cause any lasting or permanent damage to them, they are perfectly Ok .”

“Washu they can’t even walk in a straight line.” No concern or worry is in her face, how she appears so calm and uncaring when these children appear to need medical attention disturbs him. One major thing though is plaguing his mind, a thought that if it comes into being will spell certain doom. “Will the effects wear off before Vegeta returns ‘cos if they don’t both of us are dead meat.” He hopes that whatever she says will be good news, if not … well the less said the better.

“Stop overreacting Yamcha. I told you the effects are only temporary, give them a few more hours of rest and they have a 76% chance of being back to normal … unless they go throwing themselves down flights of stairs.” Yamcha weakly smiles at her little joke as he goes to help Goten up as he still struggles with his lack of any sense of balance. Looking so much like his father, Yamcha can’t help but draw comparisons between Goten and when Goku fist had his tail removed. Kneeling beside him and at eye level, Washu’s eyes quickly scan over the hybrid youth checking his physical condition. “Yep, he seems to be recovering just as I predicted, here I’ll even show you what marvels it has performed in their cerebral cortex. Now Goten I want you to answer the following questions; what occurs when multiple streams of high energy positrons collide … and who is the most intelligent and beautiful woman to ever live?”

“Uh … what I don’t under – That Miss Washu would be total protonic reversal and the answer to the second question is Washu Hakubi the great and magnificent. … I don’t know Miss Washu” The teacher smiles pleased with this perfect answer as Goten scratches and holds his hurting head. Yamcha clears his throat drawing Washu’s attention. The chirpy grin on her face from her boosted ego is a pleasant change from a few minutes ago, he still has one niggling thought he would like answered though. He pulls her head close to his and whispers into her ear so that the two lads don’t overhear.

“ As far as I know that wasn’t what today’s lesson was going to be about, or any lesson. How much did you actually ‘teach’ them Washu?” Her brows furrow in confusion at this weird question, the answer is so obvious to her.

“You really think I’d go through that hassle every day? Ha, what a stupid notion. No that won’t be necessary for you fail to grasp what my cranial data convection helm of scholarship is capable of. In a mere 15 minutes a full 1.27% of my whole archives of information were uploaded into their brains and I am sure that should prove more than sufficient to them. You may have observed that it also preserved their sweet innocent minds from a few of the more biological topics as all data they have been given will lay dormant in their minds. Only when answered a direct question pertaining to something they do not consciously know the answer to will theses reserve banks of knowledge be accessed by their subconscious. Aren’t I such a genius?” All things considered it doesn’t sound like she has totally screwed their brains up to Yamcha. Somewhat relived he turns back to look back at the boys clumsily trying to manoeuvre themselves about. Shaking his head and letting out a slight sigh he sees Sasami emerging out of the room he put her in, with no Saiyan might to aid her Ryo-ohki instead is acting like a partial guide dog. THWACK!

“ARGH! WHAT THE FU – ”

“Oops, sorry Yamcha. Hehe, forgot that I only have these manufactured for a lesser diameter than your head.” Her slamming the device onto his skull took him by surprise more so than it caused him actual pain. Now there is a third male holding their head as Washu sneakily skulks back off into her lab with a mischievous smirk on her face.

Never again shall he dare go clothes shopping. Getting himself some swimming shorts proved no problem, a quick in and out procedure of go into the shop, find some and pay for them. That was not where his problem was though. With him all done he then had to go and wait for the two women to make up their minds on what swimming costume they shall wear. Forcefully dragging Ryoko away from the bikinis made of apparently nothing but a few pieces of string created quite a scene, he will not allow her to be seen near him if she goes around so scantily clad. Such an obvious ploy from her especially after he had to dissuade her from going swimming in the nude and having to explain that human’s have laws concerning public acts of indecency like that. So embarrassed he felt, a proud Saiyan crusader, stood in the aisles of women’s swimwear. The space pirate being so barefaced about her attempts to seduce him with the revealing clothing, holding up different items of clothing to see if he has a positive reaction to any – which he didn’t – and even going as far as pretending to need help with something in the changing room. The cunning mind of a warrior of thousands of battles will not fall for a petty ruse and ignores the attention seeking behaviour to check on how Ayeka is doing. Him being around her proves counter productive though for as soon as she sees him she blushes brightly, having to get and later on wear revealing clothes such as these is testing her sensibilities. Vegeta is glad when it is all over, taking 20 more minutes than it would have done if her went alone.

Removing his arms from the women clinging to him he bends over and rummages around in the carrier bags for some towels, finding them he takes them out and lays them down on the ground with a good 2 feet distance between each towel. The women are enjoying the view: Ayeka of this mystical place she has dreamt of for so long and Ryoko of Vegeta bending over. In a flash the Saiyan is laying down on the central towel in his plain black swimming shorts with a neat folded pile of his clothes next to him that sinks deeply into the sand from its enormous weight, he’ll have to dig them out later. Not since before his death has he lain down and he welcomes the relaxation. After being brought back from the eternal sleep – and thinking what probably went on during his absence in that bed -he had no want for visiting his place of rest and so tried to make up for a month’s lost amount of training, from dusk till dawn he strove for more strength. Stress and a night’s worth of built up tension and fatigue seeps out from his muscles as he lounges in the bright sunlight. Vegeta feels two pairs of eyes on him, he opens his eyes to look up at the rogue and royal stood above him. Cat like yellow irises are absorbing every facet of his near naked body and lapping it up as the bashful princess seems to be hiding her glances at the man laying at her feet. Ryoko dives for her purchase, seeming very eager to join Vegeta and show off her body with Ayeka Jurai also fishing out her own. The relaxation of Vegeta comes to an abrupt end as he stands up and puts his hands on Ryoko’s arms to stop her in taking her dress off in plain sight.

“Ryoko there are changing rooms over there, use them.” Ayeka was tentatively looking for someplace to switch into her swimming costume and heads off in relief seeing the small building designed for such purposes.

“Oh but that’s no fun Vegeta. C’mon I know you want to see.” She cheekily winks at him and strokes his bare chest, his face shows no change in emotion.

“I explicitly told you to behave yourself Ryoko …”

“Not even a little peek?…You got changed right here though so why can’t I? Not like there’s anyone else around to see but that snooty despot.” Vegeta does not see why she always has to continue to persist, a good sign of a fighting spirit he’ll give her that but this is not what he requires on his day out.

“Can you move faster than all physicists say is possible, if not then the changing rooms are still over there.” She trudges off in a huff with a sullen look of defeat on her face, she hates these rejections from him of her body. Vegeta settles himself back down and closes his eyes, keeping company with both of those women is more draining than any rigorous exercise he has ever put his body through … he wonders if it’s all just some test that will improve him in the end. The joys of doing nothing rarely appeal to him but the ability to be able to do so is something considering where he was but less than two days ago. Last time he was at the beach was a couple of years before the whole Majin Buu incident, he loathed it; sand everywhere, people everywhere and Trunks was little more than a toddler crying and whining all the time.

Several minutes pass as Vegeta ponders a few things, just some private time to mull certain things over in his mind. His brain never comes to a conclusion over it as two shadows block out the Sun, he already knew they were there though but despite that he waited for them to make their prescence known to him. Opening his eyelids he is greeted to a very welcome sight, men would give their lives for a glimpse at women like this and all he is doing is betting to himself how long it takes for another argument to occur. Ryoko is wearing a red bikini with frilled crimson and black material decorating it, for the price paid for it Vegeta thought it might have some gems hidden within it or humans are just greedier and stupider than he gave them credit for. A great slash revealing the unblemished midriff of Ayeka on the perfect white one piece swimsuit is making her feel uncomfortable and on display like her alabaster legs. Well they definitely look better in outfits like that than Bulma did is all Vegeta can say. Sly grin and slight blush set themselves down on either side of him with Ryoko edging her towel right next to Vegeta’s as she lays on her side looking at him, or to be correct looking at his chest. Remembering something, the prince of Saiyans takes out two small blue bottles from the plastic bags and chucks one to both Ayeka and Ryoko, good reflexes allow them to catch the objects and look at them and the weird opening of the top designed for spraying.

“Sun cream, apply it on your skin and it will not get burnt by the direct sunlight. This planet has an extremely weak ozone layer after all the fights that have taken place on it as you may have noticed.” Staring straight at the Sun as he says this he thinks of at least 20 ways in which things could hastily worsen into a major problem.

“I thank you Lord Vegeta, it is most considerate of you to go out of your way on behalf of my own personal wellbeing.” Ayeka sweetly smiles at him as he accepts her words of gratitude and both women start to rub the sun cream into their exposed skin – Ryoko being Ryoko she is trying her darnedest to make the simple act the most provocative it can possibly be and having as much luck in succeeding as she ever does. All is peaceful for a while just Sun, sea and sand. Until, that is, he feels fingers being traced on one of his massive pectoral muscles by the fingernails of a most wanted criminal.

“Vegeta, can you help me? I can’t reach my back properly.” He turns his head to the side to face her as her fingers claw lightly along the rough grooves of scar after scar. “I won’t try any funny business I swear, I’ve been good today haven’t I?” Thinking about it he would have to agree with her on that, he saw her pass by the whole financial district and not rob any of the buildings and banks though he saw how much she desperately wanted to. He pushes himself up onto his elbows and exhales lengthily relinquishing himself to doing her bidding for the time being, she rolls over onto her back giggling happily as she caught a look at Ayeka’s face as Vegeta moves away from the princess and onto her towel. “Be gentle with me Vegeta, hehe.” The prince of Saiyankind cannot use any of his preternatural swiftness here, the lotion would evaporate and render moot any of his efforts, he has to do things the old fashioned way like most mortals. Content purrs of a thoroughly happy and gleeful Ryoko grate as fingernails on a chalkboard down across the Juraian princess’ mind. That look of pure enjoyment radiating from the woman her prince is touching, oiling and with the hands of someone experienced at doing so. Her annoyance is rising, the thin strands restraining her are pulled taught and all but snap when Ryoko sticks her tongue out in an impertinent manner.

“ Umm … Vegeta? What’re you doing?” As a punishment for pulling faces he decided to stick his finger coated in sun cream on her tongue so she would learn not to do so, for some reason the foul tasting liquid did nothing to her. He quickly withdraws from her and sits back down on his own towel with her confused eyes lingering on him with a rosiness spreading on her cheeks.

“N-nothing! There I did as you asked. … By any chance do you happen to have no taste buds?”

“Taste buds? What are they?” Vegeta knew it, he was sure he smelt one of the wine bottles from lunch being badly corked yet she did not notice and it was one of the first bottles she consumed so it couldn’t have been the senseless oblivion of alcohol that caused this.

“Lord Vegeta? … C-could you umm …” Vegeta takes this excuse to drop his conversation with Ryoko he didn’t want to have – how she is missing one of the five major senses. Ayeka is holding the bottle of sun cream close to her chest and looking at it whilst talking to him. “… It would seem that I also require aid in applying this to my back. Would you be so kind as to help me as well in this matter?” As she apprehensively asks this question she holds out the sun cream to him and faces him with a nervous and embarrassed look on her face. He perfunctorily concedes to doing the same thing for her he did for Ryoko though her bathing costume does reveal much less of her that would require to be sun creamed. Roles reversed, Ayeka feels the strong and firm fingers kneading her flesh as Ryoko can look on and stew in jealousy. The purple haired maiden has never had a man ever touch her in such an intimate manner before, she would be lying if she said she did not enjoy it but should a high princess of the hallowed courts of the Jurai royal family be enjoying pleasures such as these. Vegeta gets the job done quickly and finishes when he hears a very quiet moan escape the princess, he just wants to try and get some rest not go through the hassle of appeasing two needy women. Two ears beside Vegeta’s picked up on that sound and prick up as her eyes narrow, biting her lip throughout observing the Saiyan’s hands caressing her pale skin she can abide this no longer.

“Vegeta! I’ll do your back now, hehe.” Ryoko lunges as fast as she can across the short distance to his unprotected flank, he nimbly dodges this gainless attempt with no effort at all. Ayeka lets out a scream seeing the pirate rocketing towards her as Ryoko phases out of existence and back in again directly above Vegeta to approach him from another angle. Diving down at her top flying speed with gravity on her side still means naught to Vegeta. He clamps his hands around her wrists and holds her upside down in front of him as the blue bottle spills form her hand onto the scorching sands of the beach. Disheartened golden eyes stare into his ebony pupils and the eager smile on her face has washed off.

“Saiyan skin is not so weak that it requires protective chemicals, our hide is tough enough to withstand the most extreme levels of all nature’s elements.” Vegeta releases his grip on her and lounges back down onto his drying cloth, she continues to hover in the air as he left her. With gravity acting on her in this manner her hair bears a distinct similarity to that of the raised spikes of Vegeta.

“Aaaw, I was just trying to have some fun you grump. Can’t you be just a teensy bit less serious all the time, live a little.” Ryoko’s sullen face drifts down into his view as she lowers herself closer to the earth and the Saiyan prince’s lap.

“I am living a lot more than a week ago, isn’t that enough for you?” She struck a chord he does not want to be reminded of – besides his defeat at Goku’s hands his deaths are his most shameful memories.

“So insensitive Ryoko, stop pestering Lord Vegeta.” Ayeka feeling left out of the conversation jumps in, she sees an opportunity to belittle the space pirate and gladly will take it. Ryoko simply looks at her then back at Vegeta choosing to ignore the royal decree of Ayeka. Floating down and rotating round so she is the right way up, the cyan maned woman sits down cross legged next to Vegeta and looks down at him.

“Hey, Vegeta.” He lazily drifts his eyes across to her. She has her gaze fixed on his face and is smiling gaily. “ So … did you prefer touching my soft and delicate skin or Ayeka’s?” Vegeta was not expecting that, he did not foresee this line of inquiry and so freezes with an awkward and uncomfortable look at being put under the spotlight like this. The princess perks up hearing her name mentioned and although taking offense at the obvious insult from Ryoko waits to hear the prince’s verdict. Vegeta’s eyes close as he moves one of his hands to his temples to massage it whilst he thinks. This is a good sign for both women, or they think so, because if he is taking the time to make a judgement in his head then surely he must have strong opinions on the matter – opinions concerning their beauty. Ayeka and Ryoko’s eyes flash at each other and back at their prince awaiting his words to see who he favours. The silence is broken by a deep grumbling from Vegeta’s stomach, he immediately opens his eyes and sits bolt upright.

“ Ayeka Masaki Jurai had the softer skin I believe, hard to tell.” He says this and prepares for the repercussions .

“What?! NO! Vegeta!” It is safe to say that the space pirate is not too happy with his choice, in fact it would be closer to horror she is feeling. Vegeta was asked to choose and so he did, if it doesn’t please her that is her problem.

“Hahaha, oh come now Ryoko you didn’t expect him to pick your old, wrinkled skin over mine which is still so youthful. Maybe you’re just going senile.” Ayeka could not be any happier with this result, praise from Vegeta on her supple and velvety skin and Ryoko coming in second place behind her.

“I’M NOT OLD! … Right Vegeta?” Her eyes lock onto him full of hopefulness that he didn’t mean what he said or that is was some kind of sick joke. She can see no hint of amusement in his eyes just the normal deadpan. Giggling from Ayeka claws at Ryoko’s mind.

“I think we should let the numbers speak for themselves, the fact is you are 5 times older than me and you are sagging 5 times as much.” She said it, that one word Ryoko hates above all others, ‘sag’. There is no going back from that, any other insult she could have wiped off or ignored but with this there shall be blood one way or another.

“Grrr, I hate you! This is just some mistake, he meant to say my name but he just got frightened when he saw your ugly mug.” Ryoko will not admit defeat on this, she can’t accept it. How her little harmless question backfired so badly for her is something she just doesn’t understand. Even though she continually looks to Vegeta for support he appears to have taken an entirely neutral stance, supporting neither woman after those fateful words he said.

“Poor Ryoko, you obviously haven’t looked in a mirror for a good few decades if you think that I am the one with a face that causes small children to cry.” Ayeka pushed it too far, Ryoko’s fist flies straight and true for her face to rectify what the princess said. Fear grips the purple haired woman’s eyes as she sees the violence intended for her and the pure rage of Ryoko directed straight at her. The punch is stopped by Vegeta. Putting his open hand out he catches it and takes the impact without flinching or causing him any pain or harm.

“You already broke the rule concerning flight Ryoko, are you about to go and also start a fight? Disobedience must run in your blood.” Only now with the inevitable occurring does Vegeta step in and cease any escalations. His hand closes over Ryoko’s but she yanks it away.

“I- I don’t believe this! You’re taking her side again. How could you? First you say you don’t like my body and then – ” Cyan hair flies out of its holdings and flows long and free once again as she wrenches out the bobble and throws it at Vegeta. The small ring of cotton combusts before it gets close to him.

“Ryoko I said her skin was softer than yours, it is hard to detect with palms as callused as mine but there was one main thing I could distinguish between. You have a scar received from battle, Ayeka has never been in a true fight and so never collected the mark of a warrior.” The space pirate pauses. She looks over her bare shoulder to see the same scar he is referring to, the one racing down from her right shoulder blade to the bottom of the left-hand side of her ribcage. A horrible and nasty imperfection that runs jagged and rough down her otherwise unblemished back.

“… My scar? …” Vegeta nods sternly as she says this. His own body – nearly every square inch – riddled and ravaged with the souvenirs of war, the permanent reminders of when he was too slow, too weak or overconfident. “You think I’m ugly because of my scar, don’t you?” Her face and heart sink, always so proud to show off her body whenever possible but always she forgets the thing on her back.

“My that is quite a horrible disfigurement, you won’t find anything like that on my perfect skin.” Neither of the others pay attention to Ayeka, her mockery of Ryoko goes thoroughly ignored. Vegeta’s attention is on the space pirate alone, his own defaced back turned to Ayeka.

“Ryoko you don’t know much about Saiyans, in our culture scars are proof that we are true fighters. The more scars a Saiyan wears and still remains alive the more respect their comrades will have for him or for her. I will admit that I have cheated the system and have more than a life’s worth of scars rendering them moot but yours looks as though it was a deep slash by an energy weapon. Unless your vital organs differ from the average humanoid then that would have pushed you close to death. You fought hard to survive and endure and that is the Saiyan way.”

“ Vegeta … y-you mean it?” There is no lie hidden in his eyes. He nods in response. “You think it isn’t grotesque but … something to respect me for?” For a second time he nods in a positive response to her question. Vegeta’s signature smirk appears seeing the look of pure mirth and relief on Ryoko’s face. The widest smile of blithe happiness grins back at the Saiyan prince as she pounces on him and the smile only gets bigger as she sees Ayeka’s look of irascibility. Disconcerted by the bodily contact with a woman in not a lot of clothing, Vegeta stays absolutely still feeling the warmth of her body pressed against his pronounced slabs of muscles.

“Unhand Lord Vegeta you shameless wench .” Much to her surprise Ryoko does let go of Vegeta and lays back down on her own towel, with that shocking compliance to her wishes Ayeka also relaxes back down to bask in the glorious sunlight. A great sandstorm encompasses the towels with a great wall of sand thrown up into the air in a straight line heading towards the waters edge. Vegeta’s form did not fade from either woman’s vision as he stood up, went to the ocean, caught a fish, chargrilled the unlucky sea creature and came back to sit down at his place between them. Wiping the sand from their eyes and out of their hair, Ayeka and Ryoko hear the sound of bones and scales crunching as the Saiyan feasts on the bounties of the ocean. A picked clean skeleton is discarded back into the waters from which it came from and the beach becomes an oasis of serenity for the trio just relaxing in each other’s company.

The silence and calm is broken after close to an hour of nothing, Vegeta is pleasantly surprised that hell on earth did not break out during that time. Ayeka wakes from the nap she drifted off into with a start and looks about widely at being woken up so suddenly. She finds a beach ball by her side and sees a group of young men not too far away, the culprits who awoke her so rudely. One of the carefree beachgoers is jogging towards her following the cardinal rule of you kicked it you fetch it. She picks up the spherical object in her hands as she stands up to return his possession back to him, her ill feelings towards him gone now she sees it was accidental and not deliberate. Detecting movement the two others lounging about sit up, nothing else is happening so they might as well watch what Ayeka is doing.

“Sorry ‘bout that, didn’t mean to hit ya. Didn’t hurt you did I?” The bronzed skin of the man shows he spends quite a good deal of time at the beach. His day has brightened up seeing these two exotic women on the beach, he believes he is in luck, but his blood and very soul freezes seeing Vegeta. Although an incredibly fit human by most standards he pales into nothingness in comparison with the honed bulk of the Saiyan, the older alpha male with his females sees no threat from this new comer. A gracious acceptance of this apology and the princess gives him back his ball to continue his game with his mates. The random person is just about to turn back and go on his way when he decides to take the plunge.

“Hey little missy I was just wondering, well you see we’re a man down, so wouldya like to join us? I’m sure your ma and pa won’t mind if you ditched them to come play with me and the lads.” Ayeka has no mind to leave her prince for some commoner, much less for some ball game, but what his ill chosen words have done Ayeka likes. The Saiyan contemplates that in all honesty he is within an age range that could have sired her but it is Ryoko who has a problem with this man. Quite a big problem.

“Mother!” She seethes through her gritted teeth at the man, fires of fury lighting. Vegeta stops her from jumping up and eviscerating the man where he stands, with one strong arm he holds her in place so she cannot commit the murder she would so love to. Ayeka is grinning slyly to herself witnessing the great upset in her rival. Whispering in hushed tones for her to calm down and behave herself, Vegeta is still trying to soothe the infernal wrath of the woman scorned – albeit unsuccessfully.

“I am sure that dear old mother wouldn’t mind but – ”

“Oh it’s Ok son go ahead and have fun, you could do with making a few friends.” Ayeka’s chuckles are cut short as Ryoko escapes from Vegeta’s imprisoning grasp, utilising phasing and teleportation at the same time he couldn’t stop or touch her. “He’s always been like this but don’t treat him any differently.” As gobsmacked as the man is by a bikini clad woman materialising out of thin air to stand in front of him the cogs in his head slowly churn against each other in realisation at this false information. Ayeka and Vegeta look at Ryoko as though she has totally lost the plot, not understanding what craziness she is saying. However, they don’t look half as confused as the guy holding the beach ball – mentally disoriented and scared of this situation.

“Uh… yeah umm … well uh … Woah is that the time, I totally need to be err got important stuff to do. Goodbye, see ya later sir.” The man is gone, a trail of sand in his wake as he runs back to his friends. A pirate is nothing if they don’t know how to exploit certain aspects of people and this time she counted on humans having unreasonable prejudices against people not seen as conforming to the norm, that is something human beings have in abundance. She heartily laughs blissfully at how she got her own back on the princess, her revenge could only taste sweeter if she knew what the taste of something sweet was. How the tables have so quickly been turned. Ayeka is fuming. She is mad, horribly mad, never before has she reached this level of pure, undiluted, sheer anger for one person.

“SIR!” Venom milked from malice runs in rivulets with her words, a terrible anger distorting her face into a countenance that would leave the bravest souls quaking in their boots. “The … The outrage! He … THAT DIMWIT, actually believed your filthy lies! How dare you!” Steely eyes fix onto Ryoko with malice and contempt in her tone. Ryoko continues to laugh in Ayeka’s face, uncaring at the enormous rage before her. “Never before have I been so insulted! YOU WILL PAY!”

“What’s the matter? Just got rid of that bothersome nuisance for you, see I was doing you a favour … transvestite prince of Jurai.” A fresh burst of belly laughs escapes from Ryoko at her teasing and mocking of Ayeka. The burning fury within has built to terrifyingly high levels, she has been gravely insulted and slandered as a princess and as a woman, she will not stand idly around. The sand crunches under her feet and fuses into miniscule glass craters, slowly advancing towards her target Ayeka’s Juraian powers awaken. A host of miniature guardians spawn and hover around like satellites to the princess. Vegeta concludes this is the end to their nice day out in the wide open world, neither woman is responsible enough to be trusted in public situations. A Saiyan stands between the two women nearly able to feel the palpable rancour manifest. One arm grabs Ayeka roughly and the other Ryoko as he holds them apart from each other. Shame befalls him as his short height means that both women have longer arms than he and so are capable of almost getting to each other still. Instant Transmission whisks them away from the coast.

“ Listen to me, it’s about time both of you got this out of your system. I have provided a place and will not intervene. I do not wish for a fatality so tournament rules; no killing, victory is decided by whomsoever is knocked out or touches the ground outside of this arena.” This will be some good sport to amuse him, getting to truly see their power and fighting styles. No amount of words will ever solve their hatred they share unconditionally, Vegeta believes in fighting and so that is the means he is exercising in which to sort out their erratic and irritating behaviour. They care not for his petty rules of engagement, murder is in the princess’ eyes and Ryoko has never been one to turn her back on a fight. The more time that passes barring them access to the other the more he feels them straining to engage in this fight, eagerness growing and showing by the fingernails raking his exposed arms and flesh.

“Good, good. GO!” Vegeta moves out from the middle of them to stand at the precipice of the vertigo inducing cliff face. Without an obstacle to bar them the long awaited match between Ryoko and Ayeka commences. Eyes turn to slits as a bloodcurdling snarl erupts from Ayeka, SMACK! She slaps Ryoko right across the face, her nails clawing five small welts of blood high on her check. Falling face first to the dirt, Ayeka gets back up rubbing the back of her head. Ryoko hovers in the air where she just teleported to with her leg still outstretched in the position it was when she kicked the monarch.

“Pretty good princess, that hurt. This match is mine though, give it up before I start to play rough.” Ryoko brings her leg back down as she descends to the ground, her tongue darting out and licking the blood flowing down her cheek.

“I will not surrender to someone as villainous as you, never!” A feminine fist flies through the body of Ryoko as she watches this feeble attempt to harm her when non –corporeal.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with do you?”

“I know enough that the universe would be better off with you dead and buried.” Several dozen small Jurai guardian logs hover in the air around Ayeka, revolving and circling endlessly. The space pirate knows all about the powers of Jurai and especially those of its royal family, confidence blooms a dark smile on her face.

“Strong words, but can you back them up?” Quickly elbowing the not so empty space behind her, Ayeka growls seeing her pre-emptive attack blocked. Pushing against her in this not so ideal position with Ryoko at her back, Ayeka’s balance is upset when Ryoko changes her body so that it doesn’t have any physical properties. One short yelp of pain is all the princess will allow to escape her when her fall is stopped half way by Ryoko tugging on one of her long purple ponytails. “…How about we raise the stakes a little, make this more fun. If this is a tournament then surely there is a prize, I think we both know what ,or who, that is.” Heavenly azure light coalesces in a sphere around Ayeka. Summoning more power to her and the protective shield, Ryoko is forced to let go from the building energy and sidestep quickly in avoidance of a sharp kick as the barrier is instantly dropped from around the recovered Ayeka.

“ I don’t need a prize. Wiping that smirk off your face will be satisfaction enough for me.” Left leg, right leg and right leg again hit against Ryoko’s blocking forearms, not one attack getting through. Ryoko’s smirk is still there, a crimson flare charges in her palms and is let loose in the general direction of the one fighting her. The blast was easily dodged as it was planned to be a warning shot at best, with Ayeka’s eyes taken off of her and fixed on the explosive projectile hurtling past her Ryoko makes another assault. Somehow the Juraian caught the fist meant for her gut with both her hands, now it is the fair maiden’s turn to smile. Lime coloured light builds in the hands holding tight to Ryoko’s fist and the spawned protectors of the princess swarm around the space pirate. Her own trap was turned against her by someone with no battle experience. Thinking fast she brings her knee up to connect with Ayeka’s wrists and with her right hand released Ryoko jets up vertically as the prematurely released blast cancels out the encapsulating globe.

“You don’t want the prize? I was gonna say when I win this and leave you black and blue with that skin of yours you pride yourself so much on torn apart then I will claim my reward; a kiss from Vegeta.” Red sword clashes against blue shield, striking the defence around Ayeka repeatedly trying to find a weak link in this impenetrable ward.

“Fat chance, you wish to kill him with that disease ridden mouth of yours you filthy courtesan?” Anger is amplifying the already formidable powers of both women to new heights, the stalemate reached between them grinding energy based weapons and screens is not all too interesting for Vegeta to watch. Tactically he is surprised by Ayeka’s capabilities but he senses something, they still have much more power to tap into. As much fun as it is to not be involved in a fight and watch what is basically two people stood next to each other growling insults at the other, he has to interrupt their idea of what a fight is to clear something up.

“Do I get a say in this?” If he is being offered as the grand reward besides the pride and honour of victory he thinks at the very least he should have been told this was the agreement before letting them go all out.

“NO!” Both women give a very firm response. He is mildly startled at the way they shouted at him and his perfectly reasonable question, he’ll just chalk it down to the bloodlust of battle.

“Fine, whatever. Go ahead with your game, I’ll be watching.” Vegeta sits down on the cold hard ground twiddling his thumbs to pass the time. The more time they take to settle the score the less time he gets to train, at the rate they are going he’ll be here all day.

“You hear that Ayeka, he’s gonna sit there. Watching and not lifting a finger as I pound you into the ground and humiliate you … this couldn’t possibly get any better.” Ryoko disengages from this pointless attempt to shatter the Juraian energy shield, flying high above the head of her enemy she looks down trying to conceive a new plan of attack without having to resort to her secret. Nothing immediately comes to mind that would sufficiently hurt and injure Ayeka to satisfy the sadist in Ryoko, plenty of things that could make her lose the match instantly but there would be no fun in that. Ryoko starts to toy with Ayeka, the worst possible insult in a battle is to not be thought a threat and that is exactly how the space pirate sees the spoilt royal from the lavishly pampered background. Just hovering, making no threatening actions, daring Ayeka to take to the skies also.

“No Miss Ryoko, it will be you who will taste defeat by my hand. It is my duty to protect Lord Vegeta from the likes of you, abhorrent wretch!” Ayeka’s rage makes her fall for the bait, uncaring at the distinct disadvantage she has in aerial combat. A headlong charge with clenched fist extended, she could not announce her attack any louder to Ryoko. Fist hits fist, Ryoko’s knuckles meeting Ayeka’s as both women glare at the other. A flash of leg darts across the princess’ peripheral vision aimed for her side. The feint takes away her guard, no protection is left to her when the second fist of Ryoko rockets into her stomach. Wind knocked from her and a grinding pain as the clenched hand drives further, the hand previously engaged with her own slams next to its partner as Ryoko cackles.

“What’s the matter? This all you got? You’re pathetic.” Taking her left hand Ryoko grabs Ayeka’s fringe and with her right forcefully tears the ornamental headpiece signifying her aristocracy off, flinging it as far as she can. Too slow is Ayeka’s kick, Ryoko blocks it with her own leg. A wickedness clouds the mind of the space pirate, the potent drug of battle making her all the more ruthless and merciless. With nothing on the royal’s forehead anymore the buccaneer savagely head-butts the face in front of her, a wet crunching sound as Ayeka’s nose breaks. Sent backwards by the force of the attack, the injured woman clutches her bleeding nose grimacing in pain. Fluttering away in the gale force winds go the purple strands of hair torn from the scalp of Ayeka.

“Argh! YOU – Y-You won’t get away with this!”

“Yeah right, keep talking all you like if it makes you feel better.” Ryoko flies casually towards Ayeka to stop right in front of her, grinning like a psychopath all the way. This nonchalant manner towards her best efforts make something snap inside Ayeka. Manicured fingernails cut into Ryoko’s throat as both hands of the princess grip her neck and begin to squeeze tight. The smile that had been featuring for so long on the cyan haired beauty quickly fades as she senses the flow of Ayeka’s ki into her hands, there will be no escape as her air supply is cut off. Fizzing and crackling fills the night-time sky as the small log-like guardians of Ayeka make a reappearance around the space pirate.

“Hahaha, I have you now you disgusting piece of dung. HAHAHA!” Activating on her command the guardians discharge their power straight into the captive held imprisoned in their midst. More and more of Ayeka’s power flows into the attack, the power of high birth striking down the scum of the universe. Screams of pain try to tear out of Ryoko as raw energy sears her flesh all the while the death grip on her tightens. Even Vegeta sitting on the side-lines is getting quite disturbed by the crazed laughter of Ayeka echoing off the valleys and mountains. This is getting more interesting by the second, such promise for strong fighters so close to the surface, but his body yearns for activity. Still observing at the top of the cliff he lifts himself up onto one finger and, as always, begins to relentlessly exercise. A hand lashes out through the globe of energy being violently channelled into Ryoko and it goes straight for Ayeka’s face. Both hands occupied strangling the life out of Ryoko the princess has no means with which to defend herself as the pirate’s hand fixes onto the side of her face and the thumb slowly starts pressing painfully into her eye socket in an attempt to gouge out one of her dark pink eyes. Fearing for the loss of her eyeball and with its vision already greatly decreasing, Ayeka frantically starts to pull at Ryoko’s hand to dislodge it.

“Ain’t laughing now are you!” Bright red light ignites in Ryoko’s hand clamped onto Ayeka’s face as a knee slams into the princess’ diaphragm. A sharp rod of solidified crimson energy is thrust at Ayeka’s side whilst the hand of Ryoko still on her face releases the charged ki point blank. Saved by an unintentional spasm caused by the pain of a blast to her face, the stab from Ryoko’s energy sword misses and barely grazes the intended target. Ayeka is sent sprawling back and dives for the safety of the ground all the time holding the side of her face. Ryoko stays in the air regaining her breath and putting more of her ki into her sword to strengthen it.

“ Not so pretty now are you. Boohoo, what a pity.” Ryoko gloats over this small victory and her successful escape. Watching the dripping of blood from Ayeka pleases her.

“My- M- MY EYE! I-I-I can’t see! No, no, no, no, NO! Ryoko I will kill you! YOU HEAR ME! I WILL END YOU!” Blood pours from her eye socket, eyelid closed as more sanguine fluid seeps from her blinded eye. If what she felt before was pure rage then this emotional state has no word to describe it, enraged into an animalistic feral state where only blood is on her mind.

“Come on then bitch !” This time Ayeka does not move from her spot, she stands her ground. Depth perception is impossible with just one working eye, the shock of the pain is still riding high in her body. Vegeta took his eyes off them for a split-second to retrieve their belongings left behind at the beach and it has all gone to hell. Ayeka’s face is covered in a sheet of blood and both women seem even more hell bent to destroy the other. He decides a second trip is in order, one to get senzu beans for the ways things are going they will certainly need them. This fight has only just begun.

In defiance of her handicapping injuries Ayeka stands strong. The strong cerulean sphere of energy defending her from most of Ryoko’s attacks. From his grandstand seat Vegeta understands what the princess is trying to do, the technique she is employing takes much less energy from her body than she is getting by resting and recuperating within its safety. Smart, but it won’t win the duel anytime soon. He is not the only fighter from the stars that sees this delaying tactic for what it is, all Ryoko has to do is simply wait. A cat prowling right outside her mouse hole, Ayeka struggles through the pain of a broken nose and burnt eye to think of what she can do.

“As entertaining as it is to watch you slowly stare each other to death, are you going to actually do any fighting any time soon?” Two sets of eyes brimming with hate fix their attention onto Vegeta with ‘The look’, the one honed by females of all cultures and places of birth down every generation, the look designed especially for grinding down males into dust. “Thought not …” Kicking the hornets nest was unwise, sheepishly looking away and concentrating back on his perpetual exercising he tries to fade back away into the background.

“You stay out of this! This does not concern you.” Nasal tones break through the princess’ words as she coughs out the blood running freely into her mouth.

“Yeah, this is between me and her.” Ryoko and Ayeka agreeing on something during a death match, there is something Vegeta thought would never happen. If he were fighting Goku the last thing he would want would be anyone coming between him and victory so he understands their feelings and respects them.

Stars continue to turn in the heavens as time trudges on with the two fighting women. Not before long the surface of the natural arena is malformed with small craters, cracks running its full length and one quarter of it just gone. Strafing the mountain with bombardments of dark red death Ryoko flies high and untouchable. Exploding flares flash bouts of illumination showing the silhouette of Ayeka brushing off these blasts with short bursts of her defensive powers, dirt and debris tearing thin shreds and rips in her clothing. Still standing resolute, she will not back down. Surrendering now she might as well pack her bags and leave this planet forever, Ayeka is not even contemplating the thought of giving up. Suddenly all is quiet, the sky is empty and the flames on the mountainside being to extinguish themselves.

Fists, elbows, knees and feet bash against each other. All the while their eyes fiery with adversarial hate keep locked, extreme hand to hand combat does nothing to distract them from the visage of the one they detest above all others. Scuffs and abrasions dot their borrowed clothing and limbs as knuckles become red and sore from overuse. The pirate is only just getting warmed up throughout this hour of vicious sparring against the crown princess to the throne of Jurai. Years have passed since Ryoko had to fight at this level to take down an opponent, not including Vegeta, and the thrill of this fight is exciting her and getting her blood boiling again like when she was the scourge of the universe.

“Whoops, oh dear looks like my hand slipped.” Incandescent light from her bright red sword lights up Ayeka’s face as she smells singed hair, one of her long ponytails flops onto the floor.

“Why you! AAH -” What was an equal trading of blows descends into a life or death game of dodge for the princess as lightning quick arcs tear apart the air, bursts of heat searing the ground and her skin as the sword of Ryoko edges ever closer. Slash after slash drifts dangerously close to the woman postponing the event of impalement or dismemberment with all her energy and agility. This dance of death wearies and tires Ayeka awfully, never able to act in an offensive manner and constantly having to defend herself with a nimble sidestep here or summoning her shield to deflect an unavoidable lunge there.

Finally, an opening reveals itself. Ryoko’s guard is down during a particularly inaccurate stab and Ayeka takes this chance to even the playing field, she grabs nothing but air as the afterimage fades away. One hand seizes the back of her neck and forces her down onto her knees and a searing hot lance rests on her shoulder.

“Kneeling before me now are we princess? I am honoured … oh no don’t try and move, my hand just might go and slip again and we wouldn’t want that would we?” Ryoko’s mocking as she stands victorious makes Ayeka forget all about the sword by her throat, her noble birth will not allow her to be made fun of and humbled like this.

“Huh what’s Vegeta doing over there?”

“Ooh I want to see!” Reminded of the Saiyan, every other thought leaves Ryoko’s mind as she glances about to see what interesting thing he is apparently doing. Vegeta is currently holding his head in his palms and cringing at her stupendous idiocy, how ever could a pirate be fooled by the simplest trick that wouldn’t even fool Sasami.

“Hey he’s not doing anything Ayeka … SHIT!” Looking back to her captive of war she remembers the fight she was in the middle of and roars in rage seeing no one next to her sword. Instead of her royal majesty at her feet lie miniature Juraian guardians humming full of energy. “Uh-oh.” Ryoko teleports out of range of the potent shock Ayeka’s guardians discharge into a transformed battleground. Dotted about in regiments around every square meter hover still more of the princess’ summoned protectors, all alternating the power within them at random intervals. So many things producing or radiating ki completely inhibits the sensory abilities of Ryoko that Ayeka does not have, flashes of blues and greens here and there to mask any visual cues. A hefty rock smashes against the back of the pirate’s head, Ayeka follows through quickly with a hard kick to the back and springs high into the air to finish off the wounded enemy.

“Naughty, naughty.” Arms appear out of the air with the rest of Ryoko and wrap around Ayeka’s forearms in a full Nelson as the cyan haired one quickly teleports for a second time. Deep in the uninhabited valleys below with just a foot to the floor both women appear, Ayeka sees the ring out and technical loss looming too close for comfort. Instinct kicks in and Ayeka grabs the only thing her hands can, the elfin ears of Ryoko, and a piercing screech of a banshee scares all the roosted birds happily asleep out of the trees. The hands of the princess, once so delicate and ladylike, lose contact with the facial appendages when Ryoko phases to escape the pain. Her hands are clasped to either side of her head when a bony elbow slams into her face, the built up Juraian energy within it cancelling out her lack of physical being. One oversized canine falls from the gums of Ryoko, she disappears into the night leaving just a bloody fang to splash into a small puddle.

Ayeka doesn’t trust the quiet, like everyone else in a dangerous situation before her she believes it to be too quiet. In the silence she returns to the designated place for the tournament for two. Only Vegeta is there holding a tooth in one hand and her headpiece in the other, Ryoko is nowhere to be seen. His eyes are on her for she is the only one to be looking at, he knows where Ryoko is but turning his gaze there would be unfair. Salty tears mix with the congealed scabs of blood, she turns her head from him and covers her face with one hand – the side ruined by Ryoko. She can’t help thinking what his views on her are now he has seen her in this disgraced state: her beauty diminished and all traces of nobility washed away in rage. Ryoko is the one to blame for all this she deems, this thought is unclouded in her mind and if the she-demon is responsible for ruining her chances with this man, the first man she has ever come to develop feelings for, every breath in her body will be given to vanquishing her. Amber traces diffuse into the fabric of the eastern sky, this night will soon be over.

“Hiding like the coward you are, face me damn you!” Snapping her head side to side reveals nothing to Ayeka. Trying to make up for the blind spot that is the left hand side of her face she could really use the ability to sense ki and if she had it then pinpointing Ryoko would be a piece of cake. Unfortunately for her though she is left with little hope in locating the one stalking her, a phantasm in the mists. Rising up out the shadow of Ayeka comes a ghostly hand. Pale fingers move and get into position, the princess is none the wiser. First thing Ayeka knows of this is when something grips her ankle and yanks hard. Reaction saves her as Ayeka puts her hands out to stop the fall she is tumbling into. Her foot was too slow in paying back the hand as it disappears back into the ground, on her hands and knees Ayeka cautiously glances about so she can defend herself from the next attack. Ryoko’s sword smashes through the rock. Diving to the side just in the nick of time Ayeka is spared from being stabbed, rolling down into one of the more sizeable craters she catches a glimpse of two gleaming irises vanishing back into the stone. Several more times a deadly thrust bursts forth from the ground and for the most part Ayeka dodges them, all but the last one that leaves a thin gash on her collarbone. Ryoko’s aim is purposefully sloppy, if she wanted to stab Ayeka through her heart it would already be so but Vegeta did say no killing so for now she will abide that limitation as she whittles down her opponent.

The Saiyan prince has observed all that has unravelled and pieced together the plans of attack, he has to say he is impressed with their ability to analyse a situation. Ryoko is making the very ground beneath Ayeka’s feet dangerous to force her to fly so that she can be trapped in the favoured element of the space pirate. In-between his hanging sit-ups where only his feet stay on the battleground and his body droops over the drop he calculates how much longer Ayeka will be able to hold out. At this rate it is only a matter of minutes before another injury befalls her and her beaten and bruised self loses. Royalty from a proud race being defeated in close combat, déjà vu for Vegeta. In the short time it takes for Ayeka to finally rise back to her feet and minimise the area of herself in danger from the stabbing energy sword Ryoko is already in position, coiled and ready like a cobra.

“YEEAAARRGGH!” A rod of burning red embeds itself into her calf. Vegeta smells roasting flesh, he is mutually let down that it isn’t the aroma of food and how only a sprinkle of minutes passed since he predicted the downfall of Ayeka Jurai. “GAAAAAAH!” Bone is bored through, the blade of Ryoko has penetrated straight through Ayeka’s lower leg. Dark chuckles of mad laughter resound from the rock as a woman’s face pops into view. Tears well up in the single eye of the princess, teeth grit and grind as she battles the pain destroying her will to go on and so she uses her healthy leg to stomp and crush Ryoko’s hand.

“AAH FUCK!” Fingers dislocate, knuckles displace and phalanges shatter under the full force directed unto them. Contorting in agony the hand shoots back underground with the skewering sword dissipating into nothing. Rivers of sweat brought on from pain intermingle with the red fluid oozing from Ayeka, panting hard as shock tries to take over her battered form. Menacing eyes of gold pierce through the night as Ryoko comes into being not too far from Vegeta holding her disabled hand. “I was going to go easy on you. I was going to let you walk out of here and still be able to hold your head up high. I was maybe going to just let you go with a handful of bad injuries. I was. Now … now you can wave goodbye to all that. Die.” The gloves are off as a guttural roar rises from Ryoko as her secret is unleashed, the monumental increase in her physical strength and ki abilities from the training she underwent during Vegeta’s death. Small red flames lick around her body as she raises her palm slowly. Something the size of a small car impacts into the hastily thrown up shield of Ayeka, a maroon fireball colliding against the azure barrier. One faint hairline fracture splits the Juraian’s defence down the middle. Imploding in on itself as it shatters like glass the shield fails, it cannot cope with this amount of power and the one it is meant to protect shrieks in terror. A hard leathery foot cracks into the smoking hole in the back of her calf, embers and blood ridden ashes gush forth. Ayeka’s leg gives way just as the ki blast carries on its path of destruction where her head previously was, the concussive wave following pins her flat on the ground. A thin trickle of blood spurts out the charred hole in her leg as Ryoko continues to prod it with her foot and a great crimson pool spreads out from the princess’ face, the great agitation of rock floor hitting her at speed pulverising more cartilage in her nose.

“Give up Ayeka.” Yet another newly spawned white hot staff presses like a blazing poker against the back of the princess’ neck. Empathy, sympathy or any humanoid emotion have been lost from Ryoko’s speech.

“No, I … will … beat you … yet.”

“It’s over Ayeka, surrender.” The sword moves and hovers over the right hand of Ayeka as Ryoko offers her last drop of kindness. She awaits the response from Ayeka.

“I WILL NOT!” Ayeka is not thinking about what will come next, she has set her mind in mule-like stubbornness against ever giving up to her bane even when in no position to fight back. With the pressure relieved from the nape of her neck she starts to squirm, trying to get back to her feet even with an injured leg.

“So be it.” Red falls and red drips. Granite turns molten beneath Ayeka’s hand right where the sword passed through her ring finger, most of the digit instantly vaporised. Not one scream or sound passes from Ayeka’s mouth, still she tries to rise and face the pirate. Unexpected help comes as Ryoko lifts her up and turns the princess to face her as she places a hand on Ayeka’s shoulder and the other on her forearm. The fatigued and free arm of Ayeka whacks into the icy cold face next to hers, she retracts it back and continues to let loose as each feeble attempt gets more pitiful than the last. Bone and socket disconnect from one another after a push on Ayeka’s now dislocated arm, Ryoko releases it and it flops limply by the side of the slumping royal. Blood and tears are all Ayeka has to offer to this fight now, her strength and spirit have left her, she held out valiantly but against an insurmountable power. This ending was inevitable. What started off as an angry feud for vengeance has led to pain, shame and grave wounds; she can take it no more and collapses forward onto Ryoko.

“This … this p-proves nothing. J-just let me … me rest and then … and then you’re going down.” Ryoko will gift Ayeka the rest she asks for and moves aside so gravity can complete its job and take Ayeka down onto the jagged and broken ground. Soft and gently she impacts, but no peace will find her when laying prone on the ground. The heel of Ryoko cracks down on the back of her head and stays there holding her in place.

“Ayeka, say it. Say you surrender.” Toes dig into the purple hair as they grind the bloodied face of Ayeka into the dirt and the trusty weapon of Ryoko is back in her clawed hand that isn’t mangled.

“I will … I will never, never …never say those words.” Those mumbled words were the wrong answer, the penalty for a wrong answer is a brutal stomp. Still clinging to consciousness, Ayeka remains obstinate through the pain.

“Be reasonable, I could kill you right now. The longer you keep up this stiff upper lip the more damage I can do to you and you know what? I don’t think Vegeta really likes badly malformed blobs of flesh like the one I seem to have stepped in.”

“Go to hell … go and die.” Faint words seep from the stone surrounding Ayeka’s face, tailing off at the end into a hushed silence. Ryoko blinks slowly and when her feline eyes reopen they have the devil within them, the sword lowers.

“Poor Sasami, gonna grow up without a sister. Let’s just have one more bit of fun before I exhaust all possible use I can have with you. Ha-ha, you won’t enjoy this. No, not one bit.” Dark smiles and dark laughter, a sword with the taste for sweet flesh and a helpless woman.

“Do what you want. … See if I … Gah!” Flesh burns away before the sabre in scrawled handwriting. “ What … what are you – ”

“R … Y … O…” With her one hand still able to hold the sword Ryoko carves slowly and carefully, she would not want to mess up this violation of Ayeka’s body. “…K …”

“No! … Stop!” Pleads for mercy fall on deaf ears. More tears fall from Ayeka’s working eye realising what Ryoko is doing, she can’t bare the thought. “Please stop!”

“ … O …” Such sweet music, the anguished cries of the defeated Juraian princess as she desecrates her previously unscarred back. “ … apostrophe … and there we go, S! All done. Now, beg for your life.” Branding Ayeka as her own personal property has made Ryoko feel a whole world better since the injuries she sustained. Complete with punctuation she surveys her handiwork, savouring the cries of Ayeka. “I said beg! Beg like the worthless dog you are.” Just for a bit of encouragement the space pirate sheathes her sword back into the readymade hole in Ayeka’s leg.

“AAAARRGH! Just stop, please, please, please stop! The pain … it’s … it’s too …” The princess’ tearful voice fades into sobs as the sword continues to worm about in her open wound. “ Ryoko, have mercy! … STOP!”

“Come on, you can do better than that. I thought with your life depending on it you would put in a little more effort. Again.” Ryoko takes out the sword from Ayeka’s calf and moves it over to her other leg. Just leaving it there hanging ominously for a few seconds before lowering it against the princess’ flesh.

“Ryoko stop, I …. I-I beg of you please just stop. Y-You … You win. You win Ryoko. Just stop hurting me, please stop, please stop, stop, I –I can’t … .Stop. Ryoko.” A great shuddering sigh escapes Ayeka when the lance of fire stops piercing her lower leg. With her physical suffering dying down her mind contemplates the dreadful words she was forced to utter, being debased to pathetically pleading to this woman standing above her.

“That wasn’t so hard was it. Now since you lost you know what that means, I get the prize. Go back to Jurai Ayeka, I don’t want to see your ugly face again. Vegeta is mine.” Gloating and bathing in the warm sensation of victory at hearing the concession of Ayeka, Ryoko takes this opportunity to rub salt into the fresh wounds and kick the princess when she is down with the thing most guaranteed to hurt.

“NO! Noooooo. I will not let you! Vegeta is not yours! He can’t be, he won’t be!” Though left with not a single ounce of energy left in her body, Ayeka still tries to lift herself up with her arms. Weakly struggling to hold up her own weight she raises her head to look across the ravaged battlefield to the man sat at the side-lines of it all. “Vegeta, help me. Vegeta please …” Her distant and quiet words are picked up by the Saiyan ears, being stuck in the role of observer for this match he now stands up tall.

“My aid will firmly announce your forfeit of this fight and Ryoko will be the victor.” He might be a knight that occasionally dons shining armour but rescuing damsels in distress was never something he ever went out of his way to do. Ryoko’s attempts to make her rival in romance the least appealing she can be is only affecting Vegeta through this grovelling, he cannot stand the weak and the helpless. A show of such woeful feebleness from this woman, although under such circumstances it is not unreasonable to see someone not used to fighting in a state like this.

“I don’t care Vegeta, just make it stop. I love you.” Three special words don’t change anything for the cold hearted prince. He already had full knowledge of the true extent of her feelings for him and saying them out loud does nothing for him. She opened her heart to him and he stands there debating whether to get involved in this matter. A duel between two people should never be interrupted by an outsider is his firm belief yet this is hardly a duel, this is torture before the final blow is struck.

“No more talk princess. Your time is up.” Cyan hair billows outwards as the space pirate zooms into the sky with great concentric rings of power converging on her functioning hand. Ryoko did not want Ayeka to say what she said, it could complicate maters and her plan was going as smooth as they ever do. Reaching the zenith of her ascent she somersaults into a spiralling dive and a magnificent flash of orange and red power manifests in her clenched fist. Speeding up to her top speed in this deadly descent she draws back her fist bloody from use and lets out a last battle cry to end the match. The punch lands.

Craggy boulders violently hewn out of the mountainside blast into the sky and disintegrate with the secondary shockwave, coating the landscape in a fog of dust and rocky debris. Something is wrong. Ryoko can detect it, even with this blinding film obscuring her view two other senses work in unison to give her the answer. The sense of touch tells her she hit someone stood vertically upwards and not laying inert on the ground, a high ki energy reading just confirms her thoughts. What she did not want to happen above all other things shows its face; a pronounced widows peak, the frown of a man who has seen and caused too much death and a thin red line escaping his mouth. Vegeta stands in the way, having taken the brunt of the blow to intercept what otherwise would have ended Ayeka’s life.

“V-Vegeta, get out of my way.” Ryoko retracts her fist back to her side as she touches back down onto terra firma. His eyes follow her, unblinking like a reptile as his hand moves to crack his broken jaw back into place.

“She conceded victory to you twice Ryoko, she said it herself and called for aid. I said that killing would not be permitted so I am here to enforce that one single rule, I stood by as you had your way with Lady Ayeka even though by any right I should have ended the match there and then. You won Ryoko, congratulations.” No applause, no words of praise just a straight and simple congratulations. Ryoko wants more, she is hungry for more after all the hard work and large amount of time she spent.

“Humph, I wasn’t even trying and just look at that cry-baby. I should finish her right now but I guess you ain’t gonna let me. So how are you going to make it up to me then, robbing me of finally being able to get rid of her. I seem to remember some sort of prize being promised.” The Saiyan is glad that Ryoko is not pushing for the execution of Ayeka but this reminder of another thing she wants is something he’d rather do without. A knowing look is exchanged between the pair, both understanding perfectly what the other is thinking.

“Yes, I do recall you saying something along those lines. Don’t think I ever said I agreed to it though.” If she thought just saying something would cause Vegeta to do it she needs to work on her persuasive skills, if he decides something it is permanently set in stone. Vegeta smirks seeing her childish frown at his decline, winding the women up is exactly like using puppets – just pull a string and watch their reaction.

“But I won. I won fair and square, I should get my reward. Look I even caused you to bleed like you asked me to do all that time ago.” Shivers run down the mountain as she stomps her feet in tantrum.

“Calm down Ryoko. You trained whilst I was dead and it shows, it shows a lot. Fighting like that impressed me, if you continue like this one day you will make a fine warrior indeed. But for now you will get what you deserve.” Bright and happy eyes shine at him then go back into a scowl looking at the small grey bean held out in his hand. She can’t refuse what he is offering though and sullenly takes it from his hand and swallows the Senzu bean whole as flesh knits itself back together, her broken fingers repair and the gap in her teeth refills. Left alone without aid the basic regenerative properties of her body could have healed the wounds within an hour but she did expend more energy than she wants to let on during that marathon of a fight.

“I deserve a kiss, a kiss on the lips not any of this cheek business. Full of passion and – ” Ryoko is shut up mid argument in a most pleasing way. Taken by surprise at the suddenness of it all her yellow eyes open wide before her mind catches up with what is happening and she sinks into it willingly. A slight blush tinges the prince’s cheeks as he gives her what she has desired for a long time. She completely yields herself over to the subtle strength of his lips as her heart flutters within her chest. Overcome with ecstasy she hardly notices when the kiss ends and Vegeta’s lips part from hers still so eager to continue. The man steps back from her seeing her all misty eyed with a womanly glow, a femme fatale on the point of murder turned to a blushing love-struck maiden. Ryoko’s eyes let loose one drop of pure happiness as she turns from the Saiyan prince who has put her in such an unfamiliar state for her, she watches the red Sun rise over the horizon and leaves him to deal with the one she bested. Contently she sits on cloud nine uncaring about anything else.

Vegeta kneels down next to the princess unable to rise under her own steam, laying in a pool of her bodily fluids – tears and blood staining the clothing he spawned. Gently rolling her over into his arms he pushes a Senzu bean into her mouth which she weakly chews. The magical vegetable might rejuvenate all wounds and heal all of the horrendous injuries she received during the fight but her weeping only gets stronger when she feels his touch and her second eye regains its tear ducts. Cradling her head in her arms he places the headpiece back where it rightfully belongs, only at that time do her eyes open and sorrowfully look at him.

“I … I have f-failed you Lord Vegeta. I lost … I lost you to her.” Still more fresh waters seep from her bleary eyes as he wipes them from her smooth cheeks, Vegeta’s eyes searching whether every injury was successfully healed. Beans grown at Korin’s tower have restorative powers unseen by any other edible material, yet they fail when it comes to scars as he finds out with his hand on her back. His fingers feel the cleft of a letter.

“Lady Ayeka I understand how you feel. Losing fights cuts deep, I know this unfortunately from more experience than I would prefer.” Goku, Zarbon, Recoome, Frieza, Android 18, Cell, Majin Buu, the list of ones who made him swallow a slice of humble pie. “But I am not some stuffed toy to be won at the carnival, winning a fight does not entitle the winner to a Saiyan prince.” With her strength returning to her she starts to fidget in his hold, trying to pull away from him and this awful sense of betrayal.

“B-but … you and her, you … kissed her. ” Her salmon eyes shy from him as her whole body turns and shuns away from him. The hand on her back can feel her body trembling, an undying amount of sobs ushering forth. She fought so hard and tried her absolute best, she went to the brink of death and suffered so much just for it all to be thrown back in her face. All her efforts for naught, like standing next to the ocean’s of her dreams and wishing for the waves to stop moving. But now it was the man who frequents her dreams that has cut a traitorous hole in her heart. What hurts the most isn’t the loss but how easily he gave into that woman’s desires whilst she lay broken.

“That I did. She was victorious in your grudge match and as was decided between you to she got to claim her prize.” Vegeta speaks the truth. There is no point in playing complex word games, she needs to hear what he has to say despite her reluctance. Juraian muscles tense from his blunt exclamation as a pained breath is inhaled. “ But Lady Ayeka does Ryoko’s physical prowess and combative skills prove anything except she is a hardened veteran of many years of fighting with the roughest the galaxy can throw at her and you an inexperienced young woman born to a higher social class with no need to fight. You showed the attitude and perhaps even the aptitude to be a fighter but that is not what you are, no more than Sasami would be a swordswoman if I gave her Trunks’ sword.”

“Shut up. I’ve had enough insults today to last me a lifetime. I don’t need Lord Vegeta to tell me how bad I obviously am at what he thinks the whole world revolves around. Can you … can you just leave me be.” She has had enough of hearing his gruff voice. Standing up she moves away from him and takes her hair out of the lonely ponytail she has left. Blackened charred stumps intermingling with the flows of radiant purple.

“You fail to understand what I am getting at. Yes my life is devoted to battle, that is what I was born to do, what I was raised to do and what I have chosen to do. Ryoko has also chosen this path but you Lady Ayeka have a different destiny. Kakarot’s wife attempted fighting and that was how that clown and she proposed to each other, poor unlucky woman got stuck as a house wife with an imbecile and only got a break when he was dead for seven years. Ayeka, not everyone is meant for war and this I understand; Washu is a scientist, Sasami is a cook and you are Lady Ayeka high princess of the Juraian empire.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? That I am of a different world than you two who seem to have so much in common, like sadism for example. … Why didn’t you stop her? I was in pain, it hurt so much. I thought I was going to die Vegeta, I was so scared and afraid yet you did nothing. Why? Tell me why I was left to bleed!” A wash of amethyst hair whips around as the princess demands answers from the prince. Her ragged breaths puncturing the night as Ayeka barely keeps herself under control from the tempest of emotions broiling inside. Vegeta, still in just his swimming trunks, walks bare foot across the jagged rocks and slimy pools of dark red to stand before her and look deep into her angry eyes.

“I don’t know, I saw what Ryoko was doing but I stood idly by. Exacting pain is more my cup of tea. I thought that stepping in would belittle all you had done, showing you to be dependent on others not the strong and capable woman you are. I take full responsibility for the wrongs that were done to you.”

“ Responsibility, what good is that to me? All I want is her to feel what I felt and see how much she enjoys it.”

“Lady Ayeka, Ryoko said first place received a kiss from me but as runner up I believe you should get a consolation prize. If you want first place then you are going to have to work for it, life does not give freely.” An arm able to crush lunar objects pulls her close to him. Anger gives way to fear which in turn gives way to uncertainty, with her arms pinned between both of their bodies she can only watch as his head moves closer to hers. It’s all so quick, so sudden for the princess. Ayeka was not prepared at all, her first kiss is but an all too fleeting touch. Heat radiating from the ki of Vegeta echoing the growing heat on her face. For a second place prize she did not expect anything of this magnitude. The Saiyan calls Ryoko over, now only lightly holding onto the Juraian currently going through the same mixture of emotions that captivated Ryoko for that amount of time. The space pirate being away with the fairies and fantasising as she watched the break of a new dawn definitely made Vegeta’s job easier. Joyfully obliging, the first one to receive his kiss teleports and hugs onto him with even greater affection than she normally has and totally ignores the other woman shyly looking at her hands.

“You took your time didn’t you, seems like you two had a busy day. What happened, did he make you train for the whole day in those stupid getups?” Washu is more inquisitive about the change of garments and rips and tears in them than she is embarrassed by the compromising position she was found in. The trackers she hid on them before they left stopped reporting in not long after they departed when an extreme power surge she has taken to just calling Vegeta knocked them offline.

“If you must know Washu I believe this will be of great interest to you, for you see it was not training that left these gifts from Vegeta in this state but a fierce battle staged between me and that girl. Needless to say little miss prim and proper can be quite mean when she wants to be and if you thought she looks hideous now, well you ain’t seen nothing yet. Against this brute though I persevered and with the power of love on my side I overthrew the tyrannical princess in this perfectly fair contest of force.” Ayeka bristles as Ryoko twists what truly happened against her. She did not mention the appaling horrors she suffered through or the true nature of Ryoko she had the misfortune of witnessing first hand. Attempting the exact same thing and expecting different results to occur is a sign of madness, or so people say, but that does not stop Ayeka. Having only been back on her feet a very short time after the walloping she took her claws are out and she is ready to pounce.

“Seems I misjudged you again. You two should come with a safety label reading ‘requires supervision at all time’. Apparently letting you two fight it out doesn’t seem to have settled anything between you. Control yourself Lady Ayeka you’re just playing into her hands.” Vegeta stands in the middle of the room like he has been there the whole time, setting down the bags on the floor his eyes drift onto the couple entangled on his couch. Before either woman can continue their everlasting argument he strides towards the two and continues speaking leaving them no gap to poke fun at the other, grievously insult the other, misbehave or disturb the peace in any way, shape or form.

“Today has been a busy day for you Ryoko and Lady Ayeka, I suggest you go to bed and get some rest.” Without a second word the Juraian princess goes up to the room she shares with her younger sister who at this late time has been asleep for a few hours. Ayeka has no wish to stay in the same room as the villainous space pirate who desecrated her body, she has a lot to think about as so much happened today and would prefer to be alone during that time. Ryoko on the other hand sees sleep as something not for her at this minute in time and would prefer to spend a good deal more time with Vegeta now Ayeka has left. That is not to be. Vegeta points up the stairs and sternly looks at her. “Ryoko, bed. Now.”

“Whatever you say Vegeta.” She didn’t require as much persuading as the Saiyan thought she would do to leave him in peace as she phases up through the ceiling after blowing him a kiss and mischievously winking at him. His attention fixes on the two adults making use of his furniture in ways he was never going to, Vegeta does not seem amused.

“Children reside here, leave antics like that for behind closed doors if you must indulge yourselves with such tomfoolery.”

“But Vegeta you seem to forget …. I am a child.” A fairly comical look of shock plays across Yamcha’s face as the woman on him regresses backwards through to the beginnings of puberty. He cannot recoil further back into the chair at this sudden change. Kicking her shorter legs to the side she gracefully dismounts her stunned lover, such inexplicable confusion at what he witnessed though he knew full well she was capable of it. Washu seems bored now, Vegeta is never the life of the conversation and what enjoyment her and Yamcha were just beginning to get into can no longer continue in this place, she heads back towards the door under the stairs. No sooner does she get her hand onto the doorknob and begin to twist then a low gravelly voice breaks the silence of the house.

“I worked it out, fitted all the pieces of the puzzle together. I know what you are … Tuffle.” All of Washu’s motions stop, her hand retracts from the portal into her laboratory and confidently she turns with her own little smile to meet the smirk of Vegeta. Yamcha is none the wiser as to what direction this conversation has taken and they are not about to explain it to the human who has seen so little of what is beyond his own planet.

“I was wondering how long it would take you, well done you broke most of my estimates. Thought it’d take you at least another week to figure it out. Heh, apparently not all Saiyans are barbaric dunderheads.”

“You indeed did not leave me with much to go on. The Tuffles were the most scientific and advanced race known, it makes sense that you are one. One thing though I don’t get: how did you stay quiet about it for so long, that even he who you share bed with had no idea, when you were staying under the same roof as the son of your race’s harbinger of doom.” He might not have been born till after ten year Saiyan-Tuffle war had being waged and the planet taken but during the short time prince and king had together his father always recounted the story of how they took hold of the planet he named after himself. Washu does not appear to be exhibiting the kind of emotion he would normally think a sapient creature would when with someone of the species responsible for their own species’ extinction.

“You think the sins of the father are passed onto the son? True I have no love for your kind except for research purposes but you think someone as smart as me would hate an individual for something that they themselves did not do? You had nothing to do with what your cunning father did, or how he lucked out on our lunar cycle. We are both victims of the genocides that occurred on Planet Plant now, neither of us having our original homeworld and being more or less the last of our kind.” Both have been stripped of all family and kin by an overpowering might, both having that blood coloured planet ripped from them permanently. A moments silence passes between the two opposing sides of life; the creative genius and the destroyer of worlds as they respect those who fell during the extinction events.

“Not all of the Tuffles who survived were so sympathetic. Another scientist called Dr. Raichi did not seem to share your beliefs, were you aware of the Hatchiyak project?” Vegeta tests the waters with this question, he needs to know whether she is really a wolf in sheep’s clothing or not. He doesn’t trust her much as it is but with her species being wiped out by King Vegeta, finding out if there is any residual blame placed on him and a chance she will focus her attention on making his life a greater misery might as well be done.

“Hatchiyak? Don’t tell me he actually got that child’s toy of mine to finally work, it was hardly worth my genius being wasted on a bucket of bolts like that. No power source I ever tried was efficient enough for it to be a viable weapon, Vegeta what did he use?” Vegeta can rest easy tonight, Washu does not seem to care that an attempt to eradicate the Saiyans failed at all.

“You obviously underestimated what that machine was capable of. Grudge amplifying device is all he said about it really … when he was still alive and it wasn’t busy taking on 4 super Saiyans at once.” At the mention of its true capabilities she goes giddy with excitement and the laughter of a mad scientist soon follows.

“4 like you and Goku? HA! I amaze even myself sometimes.”

“Throughout the whole time that he wasn’t being scraped off my boots do you now what that other Tuffle said of you?” The ego of Washu is baited as she goes silent and Vegeta’s smirk widens. “Nothing. Nothing at all, he did not credit you or mention your name. Why is it that one of your inventions could nearly kill me, my son, Kakarot and his kid yet still you could not defend yourselves from a hundred Oozaru?” A quick one two punch from the Saiyan there as he knocks Washu down a few rungs. Frankly she looks majorly pissed and Vegeta is having trouble deciphering which of his taunting slights angered her the most; was it that someone stole years of her life’s work and claimed it as their own whilst surpassing it with a brilliant idea she ought to have thought of or the mockery he made of her inability to save the lives of her science academy friends as they were burned and crushed by monstrous apes.

“Yamcha, we’re leaving.” Washu turns and exits into the single place she can call her own with Yamcha standing up and following her. He says goodnight to Vegeta, who ignores him, and slowly goes to the closing doorway unsure about Washu’s bodily change and whether she will go back to an appearance of someone of legal age.

Chimes call in the midnight hour in the front room for only Vegeta to hear, he looks to the clock and sees it is indeed the witching hour and his ears were not deceiving him. It is late, too late for him to do the training he wants to do. Having not gone to sleep the previous night and having a lightning fast metabolism he is ready for a few hours rest before he goes back to the daily grind. Faint scratching at the door as he passes it on his way to the land of nod alerts him to one forlorn Ryo-ohki having been accidentally locked out and forgotten about mewling to be let back into the warm house. Letting the cabbit back in his house she jumps straight onto his shoulder and meows at him contently, he shrugs off the critter thanking him and continues his march towards his room. Thin streams of light seep between the cracks of the door to his bedroom, he doesn’t recall inadvertently leaving on the light switch but guesses he must have. Although one other possibility does arise in his mind but his senses do not confirm it.

No-one is in his room as he opens the door and closes it behind himself. Crossing the small distance to his bedside he stretches his arms out and yawns. Vegeta has no need of changing his clothes, not one for wearing pyjamas his current attire of swimming shorts will do him just fine. Closing the thin drapes over the window he is all set and ready for what will be a sleep his body urgently needs. Baby blue bed sheets are pulled back from his bed as he sits down ready to rest his body weary from being awake for so long. No act of surprise or shock comes when he hears a faint hiss in the air behind him, his senses start picking up a ki at a very close proximity and arms wrap themselves around his neck.

“Why are you in my bed Ryoko?” The space pirate’s head rests on his broad muscular shoulders, nuzzling his cheeks with her own as he sits there. Ryoko’s full eyelashes fluttering as she strives to get more from Vegeta than that one rapturous kiss she was blessed with.

“It’s what you told me to do, remember? You said we got a full day with you so let’s continue our time together right here, right now.” Her sultry tones are whispered with a deep seated desire into his ears. The warmth of her body against his, her face next to his own, he begins to feel her straining to pull him down onto the bed properly and he resists. Vegeta stands up, pulling her arms off from around him.

“Ryoko it is past midnight, that day has been and gone. Sleep is what I need now not what is going through your mind.” Vegeta’s face is set in hardened stone, no smiles just a small frown of exasperation. Ryoko is kneeling on his bed looking up at him and Vegeta quickly turns his head away from her. The temptress of the night is not wearing the outfit from the fight she won but instead something she bought with his money, one of those private outfits she said she would show him one day and she has kept her word.

“You don’t want me?” Her hurt and dejected eyes beseech him as he looks away from her, taking this avoidance as another heartless rejection of her feelings not that he is getting uncomfortable looking at a woman wearing what she is currently dressed in. Ryoko sitting in black lace lingerie and Vegeta stood in nothing more than underwear, he doesn’t want to be going through things like this now.

“I want to sleep, in my own bed and alone. I trained through all of last night and am tired, let me rest in peace.” Vegeta brusquely replies hazarding a glance at her seductive nightwear she is wearing especially for him, he tries not to look for too long at the enticing female lest he fall victim to the siren’s call. His harsh response hurts her, she looks down not knowing what she will have to do to earn his affection that she so longs for.

“Tell me Vegeta … do you love me?” Her golden eyes stare into his. Vegeta takes half a step back from this sudden intimate question, he can’t tear his eyes from those locked on his own. His throat goes dry as any intelligent answer to her question flies out of his mind, tongue tied he stands there stuttering. “… Y-you love Ayeka, don’t you…” Vegeta has no idea what to say under these circumstances as Ryoko continues to press her questioning. Sweat forms on his forehead as the prince’s brain continues to draw blanks on shutting her up. Her voice is getting louder as Ryoko carries on her train of thought. “ … You don’t love me because I’m not a princess like her, I’m not ladylike or from high birth like you two are. You always call her ‘Lady’ but not me, why?”

“Did you get hit hard on the head during that fight? What’s with these questions, you had all day and you choose now to bring this up. I’m tired, this can wait till morning.” Vegeta finally comes back around to his senses but Ryoko continues pressing on the matter.

Noises are disturbing her rest, only having just laid her head down on the feather pillows of her bed Ayeka opens her eyes. Eyes that are red and puffy from crying. Getting ready for sleep she caught a glimpse of something new. Her blood froze as she saw it, flashes of the fight and the pain race through her mind as she sees the word etched across her back. She believed that the healing beans had got rid of what Ryoko did to her but they hadn’t, just like they didn’t regrow the locks of hair cut from her head. She felt pity for herself and disgust at her own body, no princess should be scarred in such a way.

The voices drifting through the walls get louder and louder till she can ignore them no longer. A female voice and a male voice, her depression has built an apathy to these sounds. A man and woman’s voice that she begins to recognise. They sound as if they are both in his room talking to each other about something but Ayeka cannot think what they would both be doing talking at a time like this in his room at night-time alone. Immediately she springs out of her bed and barges open her door waking up Sasami as she storms out down the corridor.

Vegeta and Ryoko turn to look at Ayeka as she slams open the door, bloodshot eyes with the same look they had in them when Ryoko called her a transvestite scan the room. Her fine and thin purple eyebrows frown and furrow as she takes in the scene seeing what Ryoko is, or mainly isn’t, wearing.

“What are you doing here in Lord Vegeta’s room?!” The Juraian seethes as she stomps towards the space farer.

“What’s it look like? Same as you princess, just paying Vegeta a little night visit.”

“Th-that is not what I am doing here!”

“Um so why are you dressed in only your nightie then?” Ryoko raises her eyebrows in accusation, her sly tongue finding something to halt the princess’ offensive. Ayeka stands still and looks down realising too late her state of dress hardly being any better than that of who she is complaining to concerning her indecency. Their attention is drawn to the groaning Vegeta, he is getting tired of the repetition of going through the same song and dance all the time.

“Can both of you exit my room, I am going to go to bed.” Each second he is awake is more energy he is burning through at an alarming rate. Being a Saiyan is like being a candle five times as bright as all others, it isn’t long before the wick is all gone and it is time to recharge.

“Oh you can go to bed all right, you won’t be getting much sleep though, hehe.” Another of Ryoko’s winks is directed towards him as she pats next to her on the mattress. Snarls are elicited from Ayeka by such a lewd comment. Hands grab onto Ryoko’s shoulders as she tries to prise her from the bed of her prince. Her efforts are in vain, neither woman is going to use their reserves of strength at a time like this so Ryoko simple has to put herself so her body is visible but unable to interact and be interacted with.

“What? What is it princess, you want to join in too? Sorry but that’s not my style Ayeka.” A faint redness seeps into Ayeka’s cheeks at the insinuation as she backs away from the dirty minded pirate.

“Wha- no, no! It’s not like that, I – I was just trying to -”

“Ok I give up. If you two are going to continue bothering me and keep me awake I might as well go and train.” Vegeta’s patience has waned into nothingness. His form vanishes from the room leaving the two women. For the second night in a row he trains till the Sun rises and beyond. There is no rest for the wicked.