There was one more stop to make before Zaabon took the two Saiya-jin back to their cell, and he didn't know how they would take it. Would they think he abandoned them or would they feel pity for a man that had been Furiza's prisoner for seventeen years? He stopped in front of a cell that could only hold one or two people and keyed in the code. "I want you to see him before you leave. Only you can make the decision to take him with you."

One dark eyebrow rose sharply. "Do you consider us so barbaric that we would leave the weak to die miserable, lonesome deaths?"

'I don't know what I think...' "I hardly know anything about you so it wouldn't be right for me to judge."

"Yet, you have," Bardock commented. "Sometimes we let nature to take its course, but it depends on the person." He shrugged. "I wouldn't abandon my children in a forest if they were handicapped infants. Neither would you and neither would the prince. Some Saiya-jin would, though, and those few give the rest of us a bad name."

Zaabon nodded with understanding. "They say that a few rotten apples spoil the barrel and I see that they are right." Pushing open the cell door, he held Bardock back when he stepped forward to enter behind Vegeta. It was something that the prince would need to do alone.

The room was dim and tiny; after only a few steps forward he was in the center of the room. At first he didn't see what Zaabon wanted him to, but a soft sound just behind and to his right caught his attention. He turned slowly, not sure about what he would fine, and he felt all of the blood drain from his face in one quick rush.

Never in his life had he seen someone look so pathetic and hoped to never see anyone else look that way again. Here was one man Furiza had successfully broken and he was staring mutely at the prince standing before him. Filthy rags that used to be clothing hung about him in tatters, smudges of dirt and old blood covered much of his exposed skin along with the shadows of bruises and cuts. Vegeta knelt down and inched forward slowly.

"Do you remember me?" he asked softly, heart twisting at the sight. He wasn't usually an emotion-filled person but in addition to the pity there was a profound sense of fear. What if his spirit hadn't been strong enough to withstand Furiza's torture? Would he have been like this broken shell of a man crouched in the corner? If anything of the sort should ever befall him, he hoped that Bardock had sense enough to take away his life and free him of the disgrace. There was nothing else to live for besides the fighting and to render him unable to do that was something he could never recover from. "I'm Vegeta, your son."

"I know who you are," he said in a voice permanently hoarse from years of screaming. "You haven't changed very much. Did he capture you, too?"

He nodded. "Yesterday. He also tortured me, but I am still whole."

"You are a better man than I, then." Vegeta Senior took a deep breath and released it quickly. "The days have blurred together and time has neither a beginning nor an end. Here I will die, my body expelled into space like so much trash." His dark, shadowed eyes sparked slightly with an inner fire he hadn't felt in a very long time. "You can kill him, boy. The fallen can have their revenge."

'I could train for half a lifetime and it still wouldn't be enough.' The realization only made him sigh. Outwardly he smirked slightly with confidence that he didn't feel. If Furiza could hold him down, even as he struggled to get free, and rape him until he nearly passed out from the pain then there was little he could do to him in a battle. 'Besides, if Bardock's vision about his son was the real thing then I won't have to lift a finger.' That thought gave him mixed feelings. On one hand, he was prince of the Saiya-jin so it was his job to care for his people. That included wiping threats from existence. On the other, he knew that he couldn't win no matter what he tried. The only thing he would succeed in doing would be getting himself killed and dying without an heir would throw the Saiya-jin race into chaos so complicated that it would take centuries to straighten out. "I will do my best, Father." 'And let us pray that it's enough.'

He sat down beside him and sighed. "We are to escape tomorrow and-"

"No," he interrupted in a firm voice. "I've suffered too much already and the shame would probably kill me. Leave me here and let me die in what little peace I can find."

Despite his best efforts, a little tiny bit of compassion had snuck its way into his heart. The prince just couldn't let his father sit in a dark prison cell hoping for the day his misery would end. He concentrated on his energy until his hand glowed blue and pressed it to the king's thin chest. Dark eyes lit up in understanding and with a gentle mental push, he let the energy flow from his hand into the frail body before him.

"Thank you," the king said without voice as the light faded from his eyes, leaving them blank and glassy. Vegeta allowed his energy to dissipate and sat backwards on his heels to study the still form in silence. He could only hope that someone would do the same for him.

Bardock was leaning against the wall when he exited with Zaabon next to him. The two of them were speaking about something, a conversation that halted one they took notice of him. "Well? Who did he want you to see?" The larger Saiya-jin pushed away from the wall and moved closer to the doorway. It took only a second for Bardock to spot the form huddled in the corner. "He did that to him."

"Yeah," he nodded once. "He did. I'm not cruel enough to deny him the peace death would bring."

"Some will see that as a weakness." Zaabon was mildly surprised the prince felt anything at all besides battle lust and insatiable hunger. "I, on the other hand, consider it honorable and, therefore, a strength. Honor is something that a lot of leaders today are lacking."

He was slightly embarrassed at his complement. "Yeah, well..." 'He's not the same man he was before, that's for sure. The Zaabon of old would have called me a weakling and emphasized his point by pushing me down or something. I could hold my own against him now, at least.'

Zaabon took them back to their cell, a place they wouldn't be staying in for very much longer. Vegeta told his shipmates about the other Saiya-jin and they began to talk amongst themselves, wondering what it would be like to have an empire again. There were enough of their people left, both male and female, for the race to continue with only the slightest of problems.

Thoughts of the future kept their spirits up, and they all settled down in quiet peace. Vegeta leaned against the wall in his corner and stared sightlessly at the group sitting before him. It had been hard to see him that way, especially when all he could remember was the strong soldier who never allowed him a moment's rest. That intensive training had been what made him as strong as he was, though. Without it, he was sure that Furiza would have been able to break him.

'Father was so strong, maybe even stronger than I was. How could that Changeling do that to him? It doesn't make sense.' "Bardock," he said a loud, "if Furiza got his hands on you, would you be able to survive with your spirit intact?"

"Yes, I could," he said without hesitation. Then he realized why the question was asked. "Things were different for the king, Vegeta. He had no idea if some of us had escaped successfully or not so there was nothing to hope for. Without that, it's easy to give up."

He thought that over and decided that it was a very good answer. "I understand."

Bardock felt bad for him and was a little surprised about that. Feeling anything other than vague responsibility for your children was practically unheard of in their society. Most young Saiya-jin grew up never knowing love or kindness and that's what helped to form them into the perfect killing machines. 'My parents didn't care diddly squat about me and I turned out okay.' He paused at that though. He was one of the rare Saiya-jin that derived little joy from the art of fighting. Before the battle, when it was in its planning stages, he enjoyed using his mind. And after, when their foes were cowering before him, he had a chance to feel hot blood as it dripped from his body onto the ground and watch the realization of death dawn in their eyes. 'Well, mostly okay. Time to get Vegeta's mind off things.' "What are you going to do when we get out of here?"

"Am I supposed to do something special?" he asked with faint amusement. "I was completely unaware of that. How about we have a celebration?"

Images of extremely drunk Saiya-jin challenging each other in pointless competitions flashed across his mind and he winced. "I don't want someone accidentally firing a blast at the hull. Getting sucked into space is probably not a nice feeling."


Vegeta remembered one celebration when he was very young. They had taken some planet that had resisted the initial invasion for, at least, a week, the longest ever by King Vegeta's standards. The alliance with Furiza had still been brand new and most Saiya-jin felt it was better to have the Changeling as an ally than as an enemy. Still, there had been some grumbling when the treaty was signed, but nothing more had been said about it.

The party in the mess hall had lasted almost all night. The Saiya-jin were a noisy bunch by nature and the sound level was nearing the stage where it would cause headaches in some people. He had been three years old and very small, so he was able to sneak into the room without anyone noticing.

What he saw shocked him to the very core of his being. The stoic warriors he'd often seen around the palace were gone, replaced by men and women who seemed to actually be having a lot of fun. Standing against a wall, his eyes darted around the room, taking everything in. There were at least five people dancing on the tables, more than twenty engaged in challenges, and the rest were sprawled about just talking... or laughing. Vegeta didn't know that adult Saiya-jin *could* laugh.

"What're you doing here, squirt?" Bardock asked as he rolled his eyes at the celebrants in the room. "Just disgraceful. Completely and utterly disgraceful. What if someone decides to attack us right now? Can't stop 'em with all my best warriors lazing around getting drunk."

Dark eyes blinked as he looked over at the man. "But they look like they're havin' fun."

A snort. "Fun's usually a foreign concept to these people. We're Saiya-jin, not party animals." He raised to fingers to his mouth, intending on letting loose with an ear-piercing whistle to catch their attention, when a small hand tugged on the hem of his shirt. Bardock looked down at the tiny prince, one eyebrow raised.

"Please? Just this once?" He grinned privately to himself when his saw the muscles in the corners of Bardock's mouth twitch as if he struggled not to smile. Vegeta had learned the art of not showing his happiness a long time ago.

"Fine, kid. Whatever." He ruffled his hair and lifted him into his arms. "It's bedtime for little kids."

"Aw, c'mon! Just let me stay up this one time, please?" He turned sad eyes to him and the man winced. He hated when children did that to him.

"Do I look like a damn pushover to you?" He felt himself caving and sighed in surrender. "I guess I am. Well, it shouldn't hurt. It's not like your father is here to make you go to sleep."

He felt small arms wrap themselves around his neck. "Thanks, Bardock. You're the best."



That had been before the training had any real effect, one of the last times he had ever been truly happy. Bardock, the king's battle commander, had always been his real father in his opinion; he took care of him when the king was too busy to care. Raditzu, Bardock's oldest son, had never liked the prince tagging along and had told him in no uncertain terms that doing it would result in dire consequences. Vegeta had just ignored him and continued to do so. Besides, he was already stronger than the slightly older boy; there wasn't really anything he could do to hurt him.

"Okay then, no celebration. How about we just find a planet and settle down to rebuild our race?"

Bardock nodded. "Fine, but you do know that we're going to have to get the other inhabitants to agree, don't you? We can't spare anyone for a long, drawn-out invasion." He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness at the prince's sharp look. "It can't be helped, Vegeta. I know you don't want us to look weak, but it'll be even more pathetic if hundreds of farmers with pitch forks were able to kill off the remainder of our race."

The thought made him smile slightly. "Farmers with pitch forks? Really, Bardock, I doubt they would even have to send them. Children will probably appear with sling shots and pellet guns and take us down."

"You *do* have a sense of humor!" he said with mock amazement. "Imagine that."

Vegeta grunted slightly in response and got as comfortable as he could on the hard floor. He wanted to take a nap before lunch because he had the strangest feeling that he was going to need the energy.