CHAPTER ELEVEN: War (part b - "Beginnings & Endings")

Freeza fought for the advantage, but Vegeta would not give in. He’d sensed this race to be an arrogant one, willing to wait for a challenge. He’d studied the two morons he’d captured and they had seemed almost ignorant to the fact that someone could be stronger than they could. He’d enjoyed the look on the large one’s face as he clicked on the ‘scouter’ to sense his ki. It’d blown clear off his overly large face.

Freeza smirked, and barely dodged a ki blast fired by Vegeta. He took the recovery time to glance over his (former) warriors. The scene made him curl his lip. ‘Weaklings.’

His father had overlooked this race. He’d looked into what he could, finding them to be similar in duty; trading and purging planets on business.

Freeza blinked. The empires were clashing. He felt himself come to a realization that he should have days ago. This was a war.

He focused his beady gaze on the hole in his limp left arm, oozing liquid. This was a war, and he seemed to be on the loosing end.

It was only then that it dawned on him. He’d made the same mistake as those first two moronic, arrogant Saiyans.... Freeza hissed and shot forward in a blaze of fury, knowing his father would not approve of this grave mistake.

Radditz growled, and Sukiya grinned. "Palace Warrior eh?" she picked at the bands on his arm.

He snorted and returned his gaze to the arena. As they still lay in wait, the guards around them were shooting forward to attack fleeing warriors.

"I told you before, I was the Prince.." he sneered "the King’s personal escort."

Sukiya smirked and shifted position. "Ahh so you fight well then?" she gazed ahead.

"Of course you baka!" he replied, his tone showing his edgyness with her.

She stood and brushed herself off, and his eyes widened. Sukiya caught his look and laughed. "Come on hairy, let’s have some fun" she said, flying in the direction of the battle.

Radditz stood and watched with one arched brow. "Bitch" he muttered. He looked left, and then right, deciding she was right, it was the perfect time to join the fight,

He smirked dispite himself. Wrapping his tail around his waist, he took off in a hot blue blaze after the female.

Bulma growled.

Her blue eyes focused on Trunks as he mimicked the sound with a smile. She laughed without thinking as she saw it. "Yours sounds a little more real, cutie." Her smile faded into a thought provoked frown.

The shaking had stopped, and now it was time to patiently wait and see if she was greeted by Vegeta, the lizard guy, or... she blinked... nothing at all.

She put Trunks down and placed her ear to the door. "hmmm... not even a sound." She quirked her brows and ran her fingers over the solid frame of the door.

When her delicate touch reached the bottom, she knelt. Trunks giggled and snuggled up to her leg. Bulma looked to him again. "Well kid, I think it’s about time for us to make our grand exit."

Trunks watched her a second as she clicked a capsule and threw it. With a * clink * and (a second later) a small explosion, tools were strewn on the floor.

Trunks looked as if he would cry at the sound of the explosion, but the sparkling tools made his eyes go wide. He clambered over and immediately latched on to one. His mother smiled and did the same.

She inspected each and finally grabbed a specific one. Bulma placed a pair of goggles over her eyes and grinned maniacly before beginning her quest.

Vegeta landed on one of the tips of the large arena. He breathed heavily, and his now black gaze scanned over the arena.

Bodies strewn about the floor of the place proved that a war had been fought. These were his own fallen warriors, but more importantly just about every single one of Freeza’s "army". Vegeta knelt, partially to take the weight off of his legs, but also to pay silent respects to his fallen people.

He looked up to see the night sky, and the moon’s halfened state reminded him that they hadn’t even needed to go Oozaru. They had won the war in "phase one".

To win a war. Vegeta let himself grin towards the dust covered wreckage. He liked this feeling.

"Sire." Vegeta turned his head slightly, not at all interested in regality at the moment.

One of the outer rim guards looked down respectfully. "Sire, the fleeing warriors have been annihalated.... what are our orders?" he spoke shakily.

"Take your squad and prepare the medical deck. I want all of those tanks on, and ready to go..." he said and glanced into the arena again. "Split up. Send any able bodied warriors to get the wounded to the tanks. Finish off any still living enemies.." Vegeta looked to the guard again. "If you even question killing them, bring them to me." He looked upward into the blackness. ‘There could be more up there... we need all of the information we can get.’ He said to himself.

The guard nodded. "Anything else sire?"

Vegeta stood again, keeping his gaze forward. "I’m calling a meeting tomorrow, but see to it that everyone returns to their posts for tonight. We’ll rejoice when we’re sure it’s over." Vegeta caught a glance of a familiar ball of hair flying across his view.

"That is all warrior, do not forget." He said, and took off.

As Vegeta neared his target, he stopped mid air and folded his arms. His tattered cape blowing in the air.

‘RADDITZ!" he yelled, and held back a smirk as he watched the warrior nearly fall from the air.

"I’m dead."

The simple phrase carried through Radditz’s mind on repeat as he slowly approached the king. He kept his head bowed and his flight level lower than Vegeta. He had seen a quick glance of him before approaching, and he was bloody, battered, and worn.

Radditz tensed, and prepared for death. It was too bad, he’d never had a chance to bring heirs to his name. His moron brother had a mate already. He thought of Sukiya and silently wondered what kind of mate she would have made....too mouthy, stubborn...

"Stop shaking you moron! I’ve been fighting for hours and can still stand. Have some honor!" Vegeta verbally bashed him.

Radditz straightened, but still waited for the final blow.

"Now, why aren’t you where I sent you to be?" he said in a cool voice.

Radditz just plain wished for his death at that point.. "The guards released us sire...." he lied.

Vegeta scoffed. "Your king has died Radditz..as has most of his legion. I wonder why you don’t choose to follow?.... or is this your way of telling me something?"

Radditz shook his head. "Sire, you still live. You are my king."

Vegeta growled. "How am I to trust you? Questioning my choice for a queen, then sending messages to the palace from the enemy ship!" he yelled.

"I wear Saiyan armor sire.. I have Saiyan blood. I would not go against my heritage. I swore allegiance and fealty to you....my king." Radditz protested.

Vegeta sneered down to the ball of fluff, then focused on the short haired bitch watching from some meters away. "Leave. I have defeated the one you were so frightened of, so any attempt at my life or any of my followers’ lives would just add more to my long list of victims."

Vegeta folded his arms. "And train Radditz. If you can prove yourself at the next tournament, maybe you’ll be invited to the palace again." He heard Vegeta make a bored sound. "Take your mate and leave." He powered up. "and teach her some respect while you’re at it." He took off in a blaze of power, knocking Sukiya back hundreds of feet as he blew past her.

Radditz forgot his direct death threat and the fact that Vegeta had called Sukiya his mate. He let a smirk pull at his lips. Back to the palace....it’d been years.

He vowed to train until he couldn’t anymore.

But as his gaze trailed over the guards below, specifically the ones in palace armor, he wondered what exactly had gone on all this time.

He looked at the stunned Sukiya and grinned. "Come on baka! I told you I worked for him."

She bared her teeth and he folded his arms. She’d tell him what had happened. Hell, it may be a bit more fun trying to get the stories out of her.

Vegeta opened the door to the most amusing scene he’d looked at all day.

His mate sat looking quite guilty with some sort of cutting tool in her hand, and protective glasses covering her eyes; which seemed to scream "Oh shit. Busted."

His son sat amongst a pile of other tools, looking at him as if to say "They are all mine. Don’t even try."

Vegeta finally locked his gaze onto the door, which had been removed from it’s hinged once he’d opened it. Peices were scattered around Bulma’s knees where she sat.

He let himself shakes his head with an almost inaudible chuckle. "Trying to escape so soon?" he spoke to her, and all at once she threw herself at him, babbling in her own language.

" Oh Vegeta! I was so worried! The walls shook and you were gone for so long! I did my best to keep Trunks calm, but after the shaking stopped I guess we both got a little bored." He felt her arms slip down and circle his waist as she pressed herself into him. "Woman, I’m filthy." He said, but his arm slipped around her waist for a brief moment before he stepped back.

Her blue gaze focused on him. "I take it we won?"

He smirked. "Why do you waste your breath asking.."

Bulma stood back and looked at him with tears in her eyes. "We still have to be careful." She whispered.

Vegeta nodded and turned softly. "Let’s leave this place....grab the brat. I have to plan a meeting." He walked out into doorway and turned to watch her gather and encapsule things before finally picking Trunks up.

"Vegeta.. carry him.." she yelled after him, but he was already walking several meters ahead.

"Vegeta!!!"

He scoffed. "Close your mouth! You can handle carrying him!" he didn’t bother to turn around. His tattered cape shifted behind him as he walked, and Bulma took a second to admire her mate. He still walked so proudly. Her mouth pulled into a small smirk as she trotted after him.

"Get back here!! This is your son!"

"He’s your son as well woman!"

"What are you, scared of a child?"

"Baka!! I feel no such thing!"

"Then hold him!!"

"NO!!!"

The banter continued the entire way up to the main building. Trunks sat in his mother’s grip, looking back and forth as the two exchanged glares and grinning at the excitement.

He thought it was hilarious.

As smoke billowed from the arena (or what used to be the arena), Kijah sighed. The planet was quiet once again.

Chatsu pulled up into the air next to her, slipping his tail around her waist as they both gazed upon the wreckage.

Kakarott and Liena joined the two soon after.

The four floated in silent recognition of what would go down in history.

Below them, and off world slave had come out of hiding and looked up. He used a peice of dark slated rock to sketch the forms of the four weary fighters above.

The picture itself was drawn along with a few others. Sketched out quickly with solid talent. The slave intended to make a few extra funds for his efforts, but didn’t know the signifigance his pictures would bring.

To be hung proudly in the palace. To line the walls, and remind the future generation that this empire was not easily defeated. The race that was brought up on offence, had succeeded in defence.

To show that a change in the old ways can bring good.

And finally, to show that the Saiyan Empire had prevailed, and would continue to do so in the future.