(Part 2)
Prince Vejita glared sullenly at the disgruntled forms of his troops.
To say that the day had been a disaster was quite an understatement. So
great was the tragedy, in his eyes, that his numb mind had yet to realize
what this could mean for him, for the empire. This was fortunate.
Undoubtedly, when that happened, things would become very dangerous very
suddenly. But, as of yet, that had not happened, and if the prince, so
renowned for his military finesse and crafty planning, could find any tiny
minute possibility of redeeming himself, he would. Not for the billions of
lives and thousands of planets that would be affected by the results of his
decisions, not for the soldiers that were wounded and lay dying in the dirt,
or for the pride of his father and the renown of the empire; no, it was for a
reason much greater and more driving then these, infinitely more so. He
needed to defend his pride, as simple as that. He would not allow his father
to get his way, or that fool Baradock. They had humbled and humiliated him
so many times, this would be the icing on the cake for them. He could picture
their gloating faces as clearly as if it had already happened.
Although, he had to admit, in a stiffed chuckle, in the case of the
later, he had inflicted quite a few revenges, perhaps even taken it too far.
There were many who said the man had become quite insane. One never knew
what he would do these days. Perhaps Vejita should have foreseen it, Baradock
had always been a little odd, even when they were five and played with the
other children in the castle court yard. Even if he was unstable, it didn't
change the fact that Baradock, that low-ranking, powerless peasant, had dared
to mock him, Vejita-Ouji, the crown prince of the Saiya-jin military empire,
and for that alone, he deserved to pay dearly.
Vejita rose, his customary wicked smirk appearing on his face. He had
already punished the man on this trip. What did Baradock expect after
calling him, the crown prince of Vejita-sei, such names, as if the man was
his equal? As for his injuries, that was surely not Vejita's fault. Any
half way decent soldier knows the basic rules of battle. The prince took
great pleasure in the fact that his rival had behaved as if he were a new
recruit. He had always felt that Baradock was not fit to command. Besides,
no soldier in their right mind would actually obey him. In fact, he had
become quite the joke among those in his command, from what Vejita had heard.
The only reason he had Baradock promoted was for those rare moments like
this that Vejita so loved to gloat about. Recalling the numerous occasions
on which he had belittled the man seemed to give the prince a new energy. He
rose from his chair and smiled. Yes, he had found a way, and he would not
lose.
* * * * *
The nightly rains were just spilling their first cool drops when Baradock
awoke. His head thundered violently for the first few moments, but then
subsided into a steady throb. For a few moments, he stared out into the
blue-black night, hoping for a glimpse of whoever had rescued him from his
attackers. Silently he prayed that person wasn't a Saiya-jin, although the
chances of that, from what he remembered of his saviors, were terribly slim.
Sighing, he lay down slowly, for his side was very tender and burnt, and
banging it would undoubtedly send horrific tendrils of pain shooting down his
limbs. He could feel black anger, like pilling thunderheads, mound and build
in his stomach. If the Prince's troops had indeed rescued him, the ridicule
would be more then he could bare. It wasn't his fault!! The prince had sent
that note. He had been taunted into leaving the camp on his own. He could
hardly be blamed. How else could he have responded?
That he knew they would mock him made the thunderclouds inside grow black
and blacker. In anguish, he clenched his fists. Always a circle. Nothing
that was done could escape the cruel grasp of the Prince. He had too many
ways. Baradock knew this well. How cruel it was that the least deserving
got the most, while others suffered, merely because their father was not a
sniveling monarch.
The sky was lightening now, and soon it would be morning. Baradock
winced as he unintentionally rolled onto his burnt side. Soon Vejita would
come to talk with him, and there was nothing he could do. For a moment he
pondered how the prince would behave. None of the possibilities were
particularly bright, and most were quite bleak. If only, he ranted
voicelessly, I had not been so foolish. Playing right into his little trap.
And I knew it; I did. I knew this would happen. He's been trying to trip me
up for years. So may close calls. This was bound to happen. What compelled
me to behave so foolishly when the Prince was uptight about this planet?
Why?
* * * * *
It was particularly early when Vejita awoke that morning. None but a few
early rising fools and those who had not gone to sleep were outside the warm
sanctity of their tents. Yet Vejita didn't care that this morning he would
be weary and sleep deprived. He wanted to talk to Baradock before the man
did some thing rash and foolish like trying to escape. It was not
unreasonable to expect that from Baradock; after all, he was thought to be
rather crazy, and had been known to take unneeded risks when it came down to
defending his pride. Besides, Baradock was always thinking that the Prince
was attacking him in some way or another. From the way that man talked, one
would imagine that the Vejita-Ouji had dedicated his entire life and the
entire Saiya-jin army to torment him. That, of course, was only partially
true.
The way he looked at it, Vejita felt that it was quite unfair to blame
Baradock's paranoia on himself. As a boy, Baradock had been so eager to be
accepted into the exclusive group of young children who frequented the
castle, among the most powerful and influential in the empire, that he would
do anything, anything at all, to earn the respect of one of these select
children. Some, of course, would have welcomed Baradock in due course, but
they did not know the truth. That awful truth, so filled with shame, that
only a few knew its murky depth. Oh, Vejita supposed that it wasn't so bad,
if one put it into perspective. No one would die for this cause, and there
was relatively little conflict surrounding it. But he didn't really care,
because this secret would shame himself and his name, and that was something
he would not stand for. Yes, if any one found out that his father was
nearly entirely controlled by Baradock's corrupt, whimpering father, Yuza,
they would certainly not live to tell about it. If only the population
didn't tie father so closely to son, then he would end this shame, but no, if
that were to happen, some elderly adviser would find cause turn the crowds
against him, and he would lose the crown. That was the last thing that
Vejita wanted to happen, for that was his only way to end this embarrassment.
After a moment, he rose from his thought and began to stride forcefully
towards the sleeping form of Baradock.
* * * * *
Baradock spied Vejita's diminutive form approaching him quickly. A
queasy mixture of pain, anger, and fear swirled about uncomfortably in his
stomach. He painfully struggled to a sitting position; having the prince
glaring down at him might be a little more then he could take. The prince
was now just behind the rise of the last hill. As he came in to view once
more, Baradock's stomach squirmed uncomfortably as he saw the unusually
pleasant expression on Vejita-Ouji's face. The prince soon came to a stop a
few meters away, glaring most unnervingly at Baradock.
"My, my Baradock. Those certainly are some uncomfortable looking burns.
Do they hurt much?" Vejita had adopted hit normal condescending tone as he
tapped Baradock rather harshly on the side, earning a muffled yelp. Baradock
glared at him with poison in his eyes, but did not respond.
"No need to worry. In a few minutes we'll have you in a regeneration
tank, and you'll be as good as new. Then, we can discuss how you are going
to fix this little mess." Here he paused and gestured rather dramatically at
the camp and the town in the distance. " My plan is nearly fool proof. It
may cost a few lives, but that's why I'm having you lead this mission. Tycho
would surely be angry at squandering the lives of soldiers, so she is
conveniently on the other side of the planet doing some scouting work now."
He grinned rather meanly at the glare Baradock shot him at the mention of
Tycho.
"Leave her out of this. It is between you and me. I promise you Vejita,
If any thing happened to her, I would....I would......."
"You would what? Kill me?," the Prince replied with a sarcastic grin.
Baradock clenched his teeth in a most disturbing manner, knowing that he
could cause no physical harm to his prince. The Prince circled the injured
man for a moment, smirking quite wickedly, before whistling for two large,
somewhat dull looking soldiers to come forward.
"You two are to transport Commander Baradock to the medical tent with
instructions to put him in the tank. Oh, and do be careful, his wounds are
still quite tender." With these parting words and a toothy grin, the prince
strode off towards his tent leaving the soldiers with Baradock. After a
moment of goggling rather stupidly at the Commander, they rather
unceremoniously lifted him onto a stretcher, and began walking rather swiftly
towards the medical tent, being careful not to avoid bumps.
* * * * *
Slowly, Baradock shook his mass of unruly hair clean of the stick fluid
of the regeneration tank. Like always, the stew of chemicals had worked
their magic and Baradock was free from injury once more. Perhaps, he
thought, being injured would be an improvement over his current predicament.
At least then this accursed meeting with Vejita would be delayed some. Of
course, the prince would probably have yanked him up, burns and all, to have
the meeting anyway, in the event that the healing tank was being repaired.
He was obviously eager to talk to Baradock, to fix this mess that had been
made the previous day. That was what he feared. It was hard to tell what
lengths he would go to save this mission. It was reasonable to expect the
prince to ask Baradock to break any number of rules and risk many soldier's
lives. And worst of all, Baradock would have to do what ever the prince
requested.
* * * * *
The blue shadows of evening cloaked the large tent in a drapery of mist.
Inside, Vejita-Ouji poured over maps and charts spread carefully on the metal
table. He smiled slightly as his plan seemed to fall in to place before his
eyes. The gods seemed to have smiled upon him to put all the pieces before
him. It was especially lucky that the moon was two rotations from full,
Baradock was, heh, willing to help, and that Tycho was busing herself
elsewhere. Suddenly, a guard walked into the tent to announce Baradock's
presence.
"Well, Vejita, what must be done?" Baradock asked resigning, as soon as
he had entered the tent.
"Baradock, my friend, it is all very simple. You will gather the troops
for battle tomorrow night out side of the city. The other captains will be
positioned similarly around the perimeter, waiting until the eleventh hour to
attack. The attack will begin as usual, but approximately thirteen minutes
into the fighting, the large moon of this planet will climax, and the troops
will turn into Oozaru." Vejita stopped for a moment, watching Baradock look
at him with an unusual expression of anger as the proclamation made it self
felt.
"You damn fool, you cannot do that, prince or not. The soldiers are not
trained to go Oozaru. They can't control it. Think, think how many will
die. All that power, no control....." Baradock trailed off, giving way to
the prince's maniacal laughter.
"Yes, all that power. Think of it. Thousands of soldiers raging,
seething with pure power. The planet could not stand the strength of such an
attack. No planet could withstand this power, except perhaps Frieze's
homeworld. Such a stunning and complete victory, at *this* planet, would be
worth the lives of ten times as many pathetic soldiers as will die here. And
besides, no one on the homeworld will know of this, will they?"
Baradock was blind with rage. What an irresponsible, self serving fool!
The thoughts of the coming carnage numbed his mind. Such a waste of life,
even Saiya-jin life, even by a ruthless, unscrupulous prince, was
inexcusable! Even he, who, it must be said, was not the most caring and
sympathetic officer, was repulsed by this idea. It was, in one sense,
genocide, the worst type. It was not impossible that this had been the plan
all along, It certainly would explain the lack of officers on this mission,
all that had come were not in Vejita-ouji's favor anyway, and were newer
captains, having minimal training time in Oozaru. Eyes wide with rage,
Baradock slowly backed away from the prince. "You are a monster, Vejita.
The result of hundreds of generations of crossbreeding, you have inherited
every foul and corrupt gene of the Saiya-jin race. To sentence those of your
own race to death, that is disgusting. Even I, whom is known to be cruel and
unrepenting, would be sickened to even suggest such a thing!" Baradock
glowered at the prince, eyes ablaze with horror and furor.
Chuckling, the prince glanced at Baradock in amusement. "Baradock,
never let anyone say that you aren't comic. My dear friend, as to your name
calling, I simply don't care. Let them die. They are nothing! Me, I am the
future of the Empire. By dying to bring me victory, they are serving the
king and the race. What death is nobler than to die in defense of your
king?!" The Prince, after this last exclamation, examined Baradock's
reaction, observing minute details. The man was obviously much upset. A
wicked smile, filled with gloating, was etched on the visage of the prince.
"Besides, Baradock, answer me this. Who would dare to stop me?"
* * * * *
The forests around the large settlement of the planet seemed to shudder
in the vast night. The shadows shifted, as if they were enchanted to give
the appearance of life. From the partially wrecked city, this was a sight
most disturbing. However, if one examined the scene more closely, they would
find the forests thick with semi-hidden soldiers, eager to begin their
assault. The moon, low still on the horizon, but bright and round, moved
steadily along her heavenly voyage.
Tycho, sat motionless near the tent, cold and tired. Not having heard
from Baradock in many days, this attack order was quite a surprise to her.
In fact, it seemed downright foolish, considering the failure of the initial
attack. That it seemed foolish, on second consideration, was not quite so sup
rising, seeing what she knew of the prince. Glancing at her scouter lens,
she stood up, as the troops would soon begin to fight. The bright sky above
was speckled with stars, glowing brightly. Her eyes closed softly as the
murmuring of the twinkling lights soothed her to an almost sleep.
* * * * *
Waiting uneasily in the undergrowth, Baradock's mind raced, speeding to
think of a solution to this situation. The varying burble of ideas wandering
about his head seemed to offer no solution, and it was a matter of minutes
before the attack began. The prince had been thorough, one had to admit.
His plan was quite fool proof. The blaring alarm of his scouter buzzed
loudly, announcing the start of operations.
All around, the dim rumble of feet pounding had become a foreboding
background music to the barbaric, yet oddly natural, shrieks and yells of
battle. Beyond the din, Baradock still sat silently, the timer on his
scouter lens rushing towards zero. Momentarily, he looked upward; the moon
had not yet reached its climax. Nothing had yet happened. The bright orb
slowly, yet not at all slowly, grew bright and round. Baradock stood slowly,
and flew slowly towards the rumble.
He dodged several ki balls, continued to scan the pock marked ground
carefully. Then, a bright flash illuminated the area. The moon had
climaxed, blazing with an odd lunar light. All around, animalistic roars
could be heard. One after another, giant living towers rose from the ground.
Dozens of them stomped about the city, destroying it and each other.
Baradock gazed at the moon, hoping for such a transformation, but nothing
happened. The prince had given all the captains a tiny dose of CH-167, a
newly developed compound that blocked the natural reaction to moonlight,
still in the testing stage, and considered by some to be unsafe, to block
their natural reaction to the moon light. This chemical worked wonders on
planets that were not to be damaged, and in fact, all the troops were
supposed to receive it. But, obviously, the prince had ordered it submitted
from the rations.
Suddenly, a large hairy hand, bloody and covered with debris and dirt,
swerved in front of Baradock. A sudden shift sent him flying.
"Shit! This is impossible!" Carefully cradling a heavily bruised arm, he
struggled to his feet and moved uneasily over the rubble. Eyes raised
towards the obscured sky, Baradock scanned the area carefully. An almost
frantic alarm spread on his face. "Tycho!"
There was no answer.
* * * * *
Utter, pure, terrible destruction. Nothing but ruins and dust. It was
perfect. Prince Vejita gazed triumphantly at the scene on hand. In the
background, tall, powerful, mountains of rage thundered about the landscape,
in an uncontrolled fury. Just as foreseen. It was truly beautiful.
Down amidst the garbage, a lone movement caught the prince's eye. Ahh!!
Here was an interesting situation. Vejita levitated down regally. The body
lay quietly on the grass, but it's chest still rose in a steady rhythm. The
Prince, careful not to dirty his cape, slung the prone figure over his
shoulder. As he rose slowly into the air, one could almost hear his silent
laughter.
* * * * *
His breath was coming in small, sharp, obviously painful gasps now.
Through a large deep crack in his impenetrable armor seeped his deep red
blood. Despite his uncomfortable condition, he sat calm, eyes closed,
reaching with his ki for a single soul amid the madness. Lines of worry
creased his brow. So weak, he mourned. I am so weak. I couldn't even save
her. His breathing slowed now. All around pounding legs a thick as tree
trunks (if not thicker) danced in a furious mob, one nearly crushing him,
another landing so close that he could feel it's great heat, and smell the
putrid burnt smell. The ground, previously large blocks of rock and wood,
was being pounded into a fine mix of pebbles amidst larger slabs of cement,
which stuck up like ugly teeth. A scene of death. Even the living
creatures, great were-monkeys, were beings of death. The man slowed his
breath even more, and his face relaxed visibly. Soon. A soft night rain
floated down from the sky. The scene, even while it grew in intensity, grew
stiller and slower, but not less destructive. The wind blew lightly,
rustling the man's spiky hair. So quiet. He laid down. Every thing was
very still and quiet, while the moon poured it's sweet creamy light. The
movement of the chest grew even less. The man curled up in a tight ball, and
then became very still. A soft silver blanket settled over his mind. Very
still. Almost over.
Like a peal of thunder, a deep menacing laugh echoed in the air. As if
wakened from a coma, Baradock jolted upright, momentarily forgetting the
throb in his chest.
"Oh, Baradock, don't tell me you have given up so soon. You'll live.
After all, you are a Saiya-jin. A simple would such as that cannot kill you.
Besides, I have won. We can go home soon enough after these brutes finish
their fun." Vejita-Ouji smiled condescendingly.
Words were caught in Baradock's throat. "Vejita, I will never, as long
as I live, be it one year or a hundred, go any where with you! " He shouted
these words, hoarse with rage, tears budding in his eyes. " You, vile
wretch, have betrayed your kind for you self, which, even for a despicable
creature of our race, is a deep and evil crime. You have sacrificed many
hundreds of your own soldiers, and lied to them! And most of all, you
killed her just to spite me. You wanted to hurt me, and I swear, I will hurt
you in the same way, if it takes me the rest of my life. " His words dripped
with hatred and contempt. Eyes blazed a clear deep brown. The prince
scowled deeply, anger burning clearly in his eyes, for once.
"You are stupid fool, Baradock. You would sacrifice your self, and draw
the wrath of me, the most powerful person in the entire universe, just
because of a casualty of war. You are weak and stupid. Idiot. And your
bitch deserved it for falling in love,"(he applied a thick pasty contempt to
this word)"with you. I have killed her Baradock. Yes, I killed her when I
found her lying their, life seeping away, so that you could not have the
pleasure of seeing her again, because you did not deserve it. You....." The
prince stopped to stare in amazement. Baradock glowed from within with a raw
red power. The prince could feel the tendrils of energy whip about as the
man strained to restrain his newly found strength. This is astounding, the
prince marveled. He is almost as powerful as a first class solider.
Baradock, bursting with energy, yet undecided what to do with it, glared at
the prince, trembling with the urge to smash the man's face in. In a flash,
the prince's aura flared to match, if not exceed, Baradock's, as the larger
man rushed forward and slammed a fist into the prince's face, only to be met
with Vejita's strong fist. Spinning, Baradock punched the prince in the
back, leaving a noticeable imprint in the royal armor. A fury of punches
rained upon the prince, but he knew Baradock was tiring. Very soon the
Vejita found himself on the offensive. Baradock, dripping with sweat and
grime, and now bleeding from many small wounds, strained to keep the prince
from getting the final shot, but he knew he was just delaying the inevitable.
The prince began to glow a deep and disturbing red, and raised his hands.
A glowing sizzling ball of energy floated above his head, and as he slowly
lowered his hands, the ball began to grow in size and intensity. Baradock
felt his senses explode, as if he could feel and see the power. Then, the
prince released his blast, directly at Baradock.
He fell to the ground, skin burned and oozing. Vejita looked at him
contempfully. "You are an idiot. You dared to challenged my power, you weak
fool." He paused, and looked up at the deepening dusk. " I will not kill
you. You may yet have a purpose. But listen to me, I swear, if you ever so
much as dare to *breath* without my permission, I will kill you before you
can even speak. If you do not die, come back to camp. We will be leaving at
dawn. I am finished here."
Baradock seethed. Tycho dead, Vejita victorious; it was to much.
"Vejita, I swear to *you*, I will never listen to you, or serve you. I will
*kill* you."
* * * * *
As night fell on the planet, few creatures were still alive. Large,
decaying cadavers lay on the ground. A small fire glowed dejectedly in a
cove of trees. In the subdued shadows, a lone figure crept slowly towards
the fire, and was received with silence.
* * * * *
After the conquest of planet XVII-564, Prince Vejita, commonly known as
the Fierce, returned to Vejita-sei. Upon his return, he challenged his
father, the king, for the leadership of the planet, as was customary. As
expected, he defeated his father, who was most grievously wounded, and
eventually exiled, and took control of the government. Captain Baradock, one
of the Prince's advisers, was promoted to General, despite the harsh feelings
between him and the new king.
As promised, the Saiya-jin Empire renewed it's bid for dominance in the
galaxy. A fierce rivalry arose between the Saiyans and the Empire of Frieze,
to the point of nearly breaking out in war. In the twentieth year of
Vejita's reign, a Prince was born. Things were looking promising for the
Saiya-jin race. However, the sordid deals of the King, now losing his
perseverance and worrying that his term as ruler might end sooner than he
planned, were putting the kingdom on the path to destruction.
* * * * *
Well, that's it! Hope ya liked it! Remember any and all C&C are welcome!
Next part should be out in July sometime, but don't be surprise if it takes
till August!!