It floats like a green jewel, an agate bubble in the void, this world. Take a closer look, through the atmosphere and swirling clouds, to the capitol city, now on the nightside. The palace is lit--unusual for this hour--and scurrying with hastily-awakened officials and guards.

Within, the ruler impatiently waits for his son to join him. The emotional stress of the past few weeks has changed his hair from its normal ebon black to a russet brown. But he has more important things to worry about.

At last the Prince appears in the doorway, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and wearing his best armor, as instructed. They favor each other, this father and son, and could almost pass for twins, were it not for the difference in maturity. The Prince was only nine years old.

"Father...what's going on?" the child asked drowsily, not at all sure he liked the intense way his father was regarding him, or the tears he was obviously holding back. The King never liked showing emotions, so whatever this was, it was something major. Even a nine-year-old could see that.

"Frieza-sama just paged me," the King replied, using the ice tyrant's title sarcastically. "He's on his way here right now," he paused, averting his eyes, "and he wants to take you with him when he goes."

The Prince was suddenly wide, wide awake. "But I don't want to leave you! I don't want to leave Vejiitasei! Please!"

"Vegeta, I have no choice in this, and neither do you! You will go. You will obey Lord Frieza as you would me. You are Saiyajin, and you will be strong." He caressed his son's cheek and carefully considered his next words. There wasn't much time. "You are strong; you have within you the possibility of becoming a Super-Saiyajin, and you've trained hard. Someday you'll reach your full potential, and when that day comes," he dropped his voice to a whisper and temporarily clicked their scouters off, "I want you to kill Frieza."

"I...understand," Vegeta gulped. "I will! I swear it!" He drew himself up to his full height, which might've been comical if he hadn't in fact been such a capable young warrior. Such a sense of honor in the boy.

"Well. Humility has never been one of our virtues," the King smiled, "but only a fool lets it destroy him. Come, I want to show you something." He didn't dare leave the scouter off too long. He strode over to the throne room's command console and activated the viewscreen.

A swarm of space pods lifted off from Vejiitasei like a school of lazy fish. "The weakest of our people are sent to distant planets, where they'll be safe." The half-truth bothered him, but he didn't dare tell Vegeta the full truth, lest Frieza torture it out of him. The Saiyajin had in fact sometimes sent infants to conquer weaker planets, but never anything this large-scale.

He hoped someday the Prince would read between the lines and understand. He turned the scouters on again. The technicians had gone days without sleep to get everything ready, and now their world and their race were out of time. Never numerous, the Saiyajin were about to be exterminated, or so Bardock had claimed, all except their Prince, who was going to be turned over to the ice tyrant.

To face death, or worse. The King harbored no illusions that his son had a chance against Frieza at his young age, hard training or not. His only hope for the short term was the life pods, for slumbering in each was a female Saiyajin, his people's best and brightest, and anywhere from four to six infants, male and female, carefully screened for genetic compatibility. Breeding colonies, all being sent out of King Cold's space in cryogenic suspension and deliberately shielded so any Imperial ships that scanned them would see what they expected to see--a Saiyajin infant on its way to conquer some hapless world to fill the Imperial coffers.

Frieza was doubtless close enough to scan them himself. With any luck, he'd think the Saiyajin were

being particularly diligent in carrying out his orders. And with more luck, he wouldn't notice that there weren't any women among the palace staff, since the lizards wouldn't let their own females have any part in public life or fighting. They were considered good for only one thing: laying eggs and raising the hatchlings. In fact, Frieza's insistence on male crewmembers had led to whispers and unsavory rumors which the King fervently hoped were false, given the circumstances.

Without warning, Frieza himself swaggered into the throne room. How like him to not even use bodyguards, or a courtier to announce his arrival. "King Vegeta." He surveyed the shabby throne room with a satisfied air, then plopped casually right onto the throne. That, the late hour and the short notice were deliberate insults, and everyone knew it.

The King glared at his guards to restrain them and bowed, as did the Prince. "My lord Frieza. May I offer you some refreshment?" Fortunately the guards followed his example and bowed, though he noticed more than one pair of clenched fists among them. A scowl stopped them from grumbling, but it was still clear they were less than happy to see their ruler treated with such contempt, or acting so deferential. The Saiyajin were a proud people, and there was nothing they'd like better than to skin the arrogant lizard alive right then and there and leave him to die slowly and in agony. It was a better fate than he deserved.

"Thank you; you're too kind," the lizard drawled. "Yes, I believe I'll have a little something. Is the Prince ready?"

"He is." A courtier moved forward with an overly-elaborate bottle and wineglass, while the King reflected that it was too bad Frieza's scouter could detect poisons, otherwise the lizard would've been dead long ago, along with his entire family.

"Excellent," Frieza hissed, and no one had the nerve to ask whether he was referring to the wine or the Prince's readiness. "Don't worry; I'll take good care of him." And the tyrant cracked an evil close-lipped smile that was somewhere between a smirk and a leer.

Frieza emptied his glass with a loud slurp and crushed it. "It seems I must be going; places to go, people to see, planets to invade, all that. I'll do him the honor of escorting him to my ship personally." He stood and waited.

The King laid a hand on his son's shoulder. "Go with him," he

said aloud, at the same time risking telepathic contact to say Remember who you are and where you came from. Make me proud. Could Frieza overhear? Not that it mattered much.

"You Saiyajin are so sentimental," Frieza whined sarcastically. "What, no tearful goodbyes? I suppose I shouldn't expect any better from a people who send their helpless babies
off into space." He tittered. "Keep up the good work."

Did he know? His fleet could easily track down and destroy the pods before they cleared Imperial space--and with them, the Saiyajins' future.

"Damn Damn DAMN!" Kyuuri cursed as she cut off the annoying warning claxon. "Now what?" At least the pod's emergency program to wake the adult if something went wrong had worked. She surveyed the controls, noticing a serious fuel leak in progress. Quickly she checked the navigational charts. "Still in King Cold's space...that's not good." The babies were fine, though, and would thrive if she could find a suitable planet to land on, at least until the Empire found them. "Computer! List habitable planets in range of this pod, assuming the fuel leak doesn't get any worse."

"Course set and locked. Estimated time of arrival, two hours, thirteen minutes."

Great. Now what was she going to do for the next two hours? Kyuuri was a creature of action, a true warrior, and twiddling her thumbs for the duration held no appeal at all. "Pull up all data on the planet."

The computer beeped and complied. "Chikyuu. What a stupid name." Hmmm...that was odd. Evidently Chikyuu had been slated for destruction and sale roughly twenty years ago, and an infant named Kakarot sent to do the job. Obviously, he'd failed. Odd but not surprising; if there was one truism in a planet pirate's life, it was that people didn't give up their homeworlds to invaders easily or willingly. She wasn't sure how he could've been defeated, though, since the records clearly showed a middle level of technology, far inferior to Vejiitasei. Not much chance of getting the pod repaired and continuing on her journey.

Unless the records were wrong. Not likely, though. She dismissed the thought and continued reading. Third world from its sun, temperate climate, one satellite, humanoid population, plentiful fish and game...

It looked like a Saiyajin could survive pretty well on Chikyuu, backwards though it was. And at this point there was no help for it anyway. It was better than being dead. She made a mental note to throttle the technician who was *supposed* to double-check her ship's condition before the launch if she ever ran into him, improbable as that was. Then again, maybe it wasn't his fault; the Saiyajin had pressed even the most remotely space-worthy pods into service trying to save their race, and Kyuuri had been relieved to be chosen. It sure beat being dead, no matter what the warrior's code said about dying with honor in battle.

Two hours to go. She glanced over the readings for the babies again; they were doing fine. She leaned back and sighed. Nothing to do now but wait.

It was going to be a long couple of hours. Too bad there wasn't anyone here to spar with, not that there was room for it in the pod anyway.

Landing was uneventful, as Chikyuu didn't even have a planetary defense system, and the pod was well-shielded. She guided it toward a wilderness area and a flawless landing, made sure the babies were all right, and emerged for a long, luxurious stretch, lifting her arms over her head and wriggling from fingertips to tail. Then her neck....ahhhhhhh. Gods, the pod was confining! It was so good to be in open air again, even if it *did* smell different from home.

She got right to her first task, burying the pod until she could find out more about this world. She could thaw the babies later, and, besides, it wouldn't do to leave them out in the open and vulnerable if the natives turned out to be hostile. If they had indeed defeated Kakarot all those years ago, they weren't likely to be very friendly to Saiyajin anyway.

She levitated to get a better view of the area. This was a forest--firewood would never be a problem, nor would food. Ah, there was the river she'd spotted while landing. She flew over to it and tasted. Clean enough, good.

Her next project was constructing a shelter--easy enough with ki. Since she was going to be here awhile, she made her home sturdy and dug a channel from the river to provide her with fresh running water, and another one to clear the latrine, though she made sure that one rejoined the river several miles downstream and wasn't too close to the drinking water. That took awhile, since the channels had to be dug gradually deeper as they rejoined the river, and the riverbank shaped a little to prevent backflow.

Done, she looked over her work critically. The fresh green boughs for the roof would have to be replaced as they dried, otherwise she'd be drenched when the rains came. That would have to wait. She was a little tired. She quickly ki-floated some suitable firewood over to her camp and stacked it near the shelter. She smiled. Most Saiyajin scorned luxuries like this, but then again, they were usually on an alien world for a few days at most. And they didn't have infants to look after.

At least she wouldn't have to breastfeed them. Not that pre-chewing their food sounded any more appealing. In a pinch, it was said, a Saiyajin could live on sawdust and bugs for years. Not that she intended to give that a try, not with the abundant game here. This world might be backwards, but it was generous. Things could be worse.

She camped out the first night, preferring to let her shelter cure after she found the roof dripped aromatic sap, staining her armor. Replacing the boughs wasn't going to work after all. She also discovered this planet had annoying biting insects, but they left her alone after she inched closer to the fire, too tired to form a ki-shield to keep them away.

Working for Frieza was boring, boring, boring--not that anyone dared say it to his face. The elite troops were supposed to be prestigious, but they only had work to do if a planet with sentient life was to be purged for sale instead of being annexed, raided, or destroyed. Most were annexed--King Cold wasn't fool enough to jeopardize his tax base without a good reason. Raiding for slaves worked well enough if the natives weren't strong enough to fight back, and then one of the enormous robotic "planet eater" ships would be dispatched to render organic material into its basic components, strip the world of natural resources, and finally draw the warmth of its core into energy cells for later use.

None of which required a warrior's skills, and this particular warrior was even getting tired of sparring. He was the weakest of the last surviving Saiyajin, and while of course being Saiyajin was far better than being some other, inferior species, being low wolf in the pack left much to be desired. He'd been stuck with all the hunting, since Vegeta refused to sully his hands with such a mundane task while he had a subordinate to do it for him, and Nappa didn't have the patience or the skill for it--or so he claimed. He probably just didn't want to be bothered. Not that there was a Saiyjin alive who'd turn down a free meal anyway.

Radditz sighed and inched closer to the grazing ruminants. He'd left his scouter back in his pod--the others just couldn't seem to appreciate how jumpy prey could be, and any unusual noise would make the herd bolt. In the early days he would've simply fried one or two with a ki bolt from the air, but that quickly lost its challenge, and his kind needed challenges like they needed water. The doe he was stalking raised her head to peer around, and he froze. This one was big; she'd do quite well. If he didn't bring back enough dinner, the others not only would tease him about it, but Vegeta would claim it all for himself, leaving the rest to those horrible "Nutrition Wafers" that passed for field rations. For some reason Frieza never insisted on sharing, even though his race were carnivores. Maybe even he realized that getting between a Saiyajin and his dinner was a very, very bad idea.

The doe returned to grazing, and Radditz crawled slowly forward. He'd made a game of it, seeing just how close he could get to his prey without spooking it, and had even found a way to block his scent with ki. Unfortunately, he had no way to turn himself invisible, and creatures instinctively recognized him as a predator, even if their world had no humanoid life. Sure enough, they panicked as soon as they saw him, and he used a burst of ki-enhanced speed to catch up with his prey and snap her neck.

He was in a good mood, as he usually was whenever he got the chance to get away from Frieza's flagship for awhile. He could relax with neither prince peering over his shoulder.

He dumped the animal behind his pod and grabbed his scouter to make sure the meat was wholesome. No diseases, no parasites...not poisonous...digestible...good. It was bound to get a little space-burned as he ki-towed it back to the ship, but there wasn't room enough in the space pod for it.

In fact, there was barely room for him. He'd always envied Vegeta for being able to actually stretch out in a space pod.   The prince was the smallest of the Saiyajin, but what he laced in stature he made up in power, and none of the others questioned his authority. Radditz surveyed his work with satisfaction. There'd be a feast of meat tonight, and he'd even found a few tubers to go with it.   Not that he expected thanks, or even an acknowledgement, from the others. Nappa was too coarse, and Vegeta considered it his due. In his own way, he was just as arrogant as Frieza.

Radditz found himself wishing for the umpteenth time that Frieza had spared someone other than Nappa to take into his service. Someone who thought there was more to life than fighting, heretical though that was. Someone with a little class. And it would be even better if the someone were female. Not that she'd ever be allowed on Frieza's ship. And not that Radditz would ever have a chance to woo her, or even talk to her much. Any female with sense would set her cap for Vegeta, who was not only elite but royalty. The prince wouldn't pass up the chance to keep the royal line going--it was his duty, after all--and there was no question what he'd do to anyone who so much as glanced at his mate wrong.

With a warrior's discipine, Radditz dismissed that train of thought before he got depressed and stashed the tubers carefully inside the pod. They were likely too fragile to be ki-towed, and he'd already made sure they were safe to eat, and even tried one. They were sweet but fibrous, nothing a Saiyajin digestive system couldn't handle. He'd never admit it to the others, but he often sneaked snacks while he was out. He wasn't supposed to, since everything brought on board Frieza's ship was supposed to pass quarantine first, but during some dozen years in space he'd gotten tired of Vegeta's insisting on the choicest of everything. That was royalty for you. He wouldn't lie if directly asked, but so far the prince hadn't. Besides, hunting his way could take hours, and a man had to eat to keep his strength up, didn't he?

He ducked into the pod, painstakingly lifting his hair out of the way before he sat on it. It was one of the disadvantages of such long hair, but he was stuck with it. Even if he'd cut it, it would grow right back. Radditz' hair was as long and as full as Saiyajin hair ever got, and he was secretly proud of it. It made him stand out, especially against Vegeta, who had short locks, and Nappa, who'd gone bald from some alien disease he'd contracted years ago on some long-destroyed world, sparing only a little bit of facial hair and tail-fur, which he kept growing by smearing them with lotions and creams daily. What was worse, his oozaru form was hairless, too, and the mental image always brought Radditz a chuckle, even if he couldn't remember seeing it in person. Too bad their armor stretched to accommodate, or the doomed natives might've seen more than they bargained for before being dispatched to the afterlife. Not that Nappa would care about that while he was transformed, though he might've been embarrassed later. When you turned oozaru, the beast took over and the mind's eye shut tight.

His eyes flickered to the console for a pre-flight check, and he clicked the scouter's communications console on. It responded with an annoying high-pitched whine that grated on every nerve and hurt his ears. He yanked it off and shook it, but the whine continued, and now the screen was displaying sheer nonsense. "Piece of junk!" he cursed as he stomped it into pieces on the pod floor in a fit of ire, "How come you were working a minute ago?!?". Radditz didn't know why, but scouters often malfunctioned around him. He went through more of them in a month than the entire rest of the elite forces lost in a year. If the Saiyajin had had a gremlin legend, he would've described himself as a gremlin magnet. He'd learned early on to carry a spare, or even two, and now he reached with an easy practiced motion to the storage compartment on his left and pulled one out, clicking it on as he did. No sense risking more of that awful whining! This one seemed to be working, thank the gods. He quickly buzzed the flagship to let them know to expect him, launched the pod, and glanced at the chronometer. Good, he'd even make it back early this time.

Survival, Kyuuri thought, was much overrated, as she bounced a baby on each hip. She'd long since given up trying to wear armor, since the babies were always leaking or dribbling or spurting fluids out of every orifice, the most innocuous of which was spittle, and the rest she didn't want to think about. Gods only knew how four tiny helpless little babies had managed to almost destroy a suit of battlearmor. Not that she looked much like a warrior any more, with unkempt hair and dark circles under her eyes. Sleep interruptions were starting to take a toll, and she was beginning to appreciate nature's wisdom in only giving Saiyajin mothers one baby at a time. The task would've been impossible without ki to lend helping "hands" where needed; as it was, it was only nearly impossible. Days and nights were an endless cycle of feeding, changing and comforting. If it weren't for the natives' ingenious "canned goods" and "diapers," she would've had to hunt and gather, too, and carry the babies down to the river every time to clean them. Sometimes she had to do that anyway.

All in all, she'd rather be at war. It was far less stressful on the nerves.

The babies were just...too much. Reaching a decision, Kyuuri put them back in the pod, safely frozen until she could come up with a better plan. Could she raise them one at a time? Force some natives to raise them, at least until they reached an age where she could start training them? This was her duty, and she'd have to find a way.

But first she was going to get some desperately-needed sleep. At the moment Kyuuri didn't care if her makeshift shelter dripped sap wherever it pleased.

The flagship didn't have a dining hall. There was no reason for one. Annexed planets usually invited Frieza and his retinue to the capitol and feted them in grand style, and other worlds wouldn't exactly welcome an Imperial ship anyway. And even if there had been one, the Saiyajin knew what they'd face there: from the vegetarians, stares of disgust. From the carnivores, envy. Nutrition Wafers had many formulas for many species, and they were all chewy as a wet sponge, and almost as tasty. It was no wonder the suicide rate among the regular troops was so high.

Radditz whistled tunelessly as he hefted his prey and carried it to the storeroom where the others were waiting. He would've swaggered in if the creature hadn't been so darned heavy. "Ta daa!" he announced heartily as he dumped dinner unceremoniously on the floor. As he expected, the others were ready to dig in and didn't bother with thanks.

"Reminds me of you," Vegeta smirked, and Radditz froze, blushing to the roots of his hair.

Radditz' eyes dropped to the floor. He'd hoped for years that Vegeta had forgotten their first meeting, the young prince in the depths of Frieza's ship, waiting for it to lift off from Vejiitasei, when one of Frieza's personal guards had carried in a flailing, near-hysterical young Radditz and dumped him on the floor.

"Playmate for you," the guard sneered. "Boss's orders."

Vegeta had drawn his arms across his chest in a gesture so characteristically Saiyajin, and so like the king in miniature, that the guard burst out laughing.

"I don't need that kind of playmate," the child scowled, with a practiced hauteur. "I don't need a playmate at all."

In the meantime, Radditz had regained a little of his composure and was desperately casting about telepathically for his father to beg for rescue.

The guard turned to leave. "You may change your mind later. It'll be a long journey."

It had been long indeed, and wearying, the flagship a mote between suns.

Radditz dropped his gaze and sat, suddenly bone-tired. "Eh, what does it matter? We're all Frieza's slaves anyway."

"I'm nobody's slave," Vegeta bristled. Nappa was concentrating very intensely on butchering dinner.

To his own surprise, Radditz laughed. "You're the overseer...that's worse. At least the workslaves know what they are." He'd never spoken so boldly to Vegeta before, and was quite certain the prince was going to ki-blast him to the afterlife any minute now, but for some reason he didn't care. Well. At least it would be a chance to get some rest. And maybe even some better company.

"But if I were," Vegeta drawled, "what would that make you?" His tail unfurled into a more relaxed position.

"Your loyal subject, of course," Radditz replied smoothly. "I never had any class aspirations. Or prospects. Unless you'd let me marry your sister, if you had one."

"YOU--!" the prince was livid.

Radditz decided to take his Nutrition Wafers in the arboretum.

Radditz paced nervously outside Frieza's room. The lizard gave him the heebie-jeebies, though he couldn't quite put his finger on why. It wasn't just that Frieza was unnaturally powerful (his ki was rumored to be over a million!), cruel and somewhat capricious. Nor would Radditz be overly disappointed if the tyrant refused his request. The Saiyajin willed his body into stillness when he saw the emerging guard's smirk. "His Excellency will see you now," the guard proclaimed officiously.

"Very good," Radditz muttered, thoughts racing. He entered the room as meekly as one of his height could and knelt before the lizard prince at a respectful distance, clearly indicated by the too-conveniently-placed carpet. He hadn't been sure what to say, and decided the traditional approach would be best. "My liege, I crave a boon."

How amusing. It expresses itself just like a real person, this disgusting furry monkey, even using the ancient words of fealty and honor. Frieza's eyes narrowed as he contemplated the kneeling Saiyajin before him. I really MUST have my staff clean that carpet later. "Yessss?" Frieza drawled, sounding extremely bored. No doubt he had people coming in and asking him for favors all day long.

"My brother...he never came back from his infant mission."

"Ah, he found something that could defeat you 'mighty warriors.'"

Radditz bristled but held his temper. "No one knows what happened to him."

"And you want to find out, yessss?" Frieza gestured to an aide, who keyed frantically into a datapad with its tentacles before presenting it to its ruler with a flourish. The lizard eyed the screen critically. "Hmmm...Chikyuu.... Should bring a good price." He eyed Radditz languidly. "If you're up to purging it, that is. I suppose I can grant you a leave of absence."

"Thank you, my liege," Radditz replied, calm outside but seething inside. How dare Frieza insult him that way! The three Saiyajin had a flawless record for clearing planets!

"You may leave when you are ready," the lizard intoned, with an imperious gesture of dismissal. Radditz bowed in response and left the room as quickly as dignity allowed. Well, that went better than I expected. The Saiyajin went to the ship's gym to work off his considerable frustrations while his pod was readied, so of course he couldn't have seen Frieza's aide scoop up the carpet without being told and replace it with a fresh one--not an easy task with tentacles, but one it had learned to manage over the years. One had to adjust to one's employer's quirks.

Especially if one's employer was Frieza.

"Landing procedure complete." The Empire must've scoured the universe to find a voice that annoying, the half-awake warrior mused with a chuckle. He was in a good mood, with every reason to be; he'd arrived alive and healthy, if a bit cramped, and restoring the family honor was a worthy mission for any Saiyajin. He stepped out of the pod, still a bit groggy from cold-sleep, and took a quick stretch.

He'd landed on a deserted beach. A beautiful view, this place had. If it was typical of this world, no wonder the Empire wanted it seized and sold. Or maybe they intended to keep it. He'd seen more than one planet stripped of all its natural resources then destroyed.

He'd been to perhaps a dozen such worlds since he'd started working for Frieza, but he'd never seen one with so much water. He decided to take a stroll down the beach and enjoy the view. After all, the fresh air and exercise would help clear his head. He'd never liked space travel much anyway, and it

would be awhile before he felt like getting something to eat. Not that he had any worries about that. He was the best Saiyajin hunter in the universe! He might even sneak in a swim, since none of his superiors were around to accuse him of goofing off.

It seemed like ages since he'd had total privacy and time to think. He was going to enjoy it.

Left boot, off. Right boot, off. There, that was more like it. Cool sand between your toes was one of life's shiny little pleasures, as long as no one was around to see. So was wading in the surf.

It wasn't long before the armor joined the boots.

Sunset too soon, too soon. The seabirds were seeking their roosts for the night, and, like them, a contented but waterlogged and wrinkle-fingered Saiyajin warrior turned to shore. He'd roost in the pod and start out in the morning. No time to grab dinner, either--that was a little disappointing, but he'd survive. Skipping dinner was better than those awful Nutrition Wafers stashed in the pod. It had been worth it. And even if he felt like complaining, there was no one around to complain to.

He paused for a moment to ki-dry his hair, then scooped up the armor and boots. Best to dry off first before getting dressed again. And he had one more duty to perform tonight--to contact Vegeta by scouter and let him know he'd landed safely.

Good thing it was getting dark. He didn't want Vegeta to see him too relaxed. Or too sunburned.

The next morning Radditz awoke and decided to get an early start. He quickly drew on his uniform and punched his scouter, looking for Saiyajin lifesigns. His initial good mood evaporated as the scouter showed not one but two blips. He scowled. Not a day out of cryofreeze, and the damn thing was screwing up already! He scowled and pulled out the spare. Same readings. Oh, well, he might as well get this over with. He oriented on the nearest blip and took off.

Kyuuri felt ki like a tickle at the edge of her consciousness and looked up to see her worst nightmare come to life--a warrior flying her way at high speed, obviously an Imperial from the scouter he was wearing. I can't let him find the babies! She powered up and rose to meet him. She wasn't going to compromise her mission without a fight.

Radditz' curiosity turned to astonishment as he faced his fondest dream, a live Saiyajin female. And a cute one at that! His guard dropped before he realized it, and that's when she hit him with a tightly-aimed ki blast that shattered the scouter and blinded him temporarily. By the time he recovered, she was gone.

Green needles prickled and tore as Kyuuri scrambled through the treetops, desperately toning down her ki. The stranger probably wouldn't be able to track her without a scouter, though ki-sense was tricky. If you knew someone well, you could monitor their ki from across the planet. She fervently hoped he'd have to rely on normal tracking skills, and those she knew how to foil! Her progress through the trees would leave no tracks, and she knew enough to flee upwind. A voice in the back of her head told her to be glad Frieza couldn't see her; he was always comparing the Saiyajin to monkeys, and the sight of her scampering through the trees would've amused him greatly. She growled, and used her hatred of the ice tyrant to spur her on.

Radditz hovered, considering whether to give chase or return for his spare scouter. He decided on the former, since he could always get the scouter later. This mission had gotten a lot more interesting! Whoever this strange female was, she wasn't part of Frieza's empire. She certainly considered him an enemy, and couldn't have gotten far without using ki. Now, where would I go to evade an enemy?

Kyuuri dangled from a branch over the river, holding her boots with her tail. It was a long way down, and it had taken valuable time to find this overhanging branch, but the water would break her scent if her enemy made it this far. No sense getting her boots wet. She wished she simply could've flown down, but there was no telling how sensitive the stranger's ki-sense was. Of course, if she hadn't managed to destroy the scouter with her first shot, he'd find her whether she used ki or not. Hoping for the best, she let go--and grimaced as river rocks bruised her feet. Cursing, she limped upstream. The brats had better be grateful for this someday!

Radditz grinned impishly. This one was cute and smart! It had taken him nearly forty minutes to find the telltale broken needles and minute spots of blood. She was heading deeper into the forest. Well, if that was her game, she'd find out Radditz could play, too. He wasn't the best Saiyajin hunter for nothing! He'd been aching for a challenge for months, and now he had one!

Kyuuri wearily hauled herself onto another overhanging branch. She'd traveled at least ten miles upriver, limping all the way. One yard, two, ten, twenty, she hauled herself through the branches, then dropped to the ground, exhausted. She sat, stilled her mind and concentrated, trying to sense where the stranger was, and whether he was using ki. At least she could get off her feet awhile! There it was, a ki-glimmer in her mind's eye, but oddly, she couldn't tell from what direction or how far away. She took a deep breath and tried again. He hasn't given up. Too dangerous to stay here -- must move on.

Kyuuri steeled herself against the pain of walking on her bruised feet and opened her eyes.

And stared right into the face of her pursuer! That is, after she raised her glance from his beltline, past his breastplate and up to his face. This one was tall, smirking, and a little battered from where she'd destroyed his scouter. She, on the other hand, was petite, drained, and trapped--and knew it. She let her shoulders sag in defeat, and took the hand he offered to help her up.

And did her best to yank him off-balance, only to be knocked down and wrist-pinned. She kicked, and tried her best to bite him. He only smiled. Cute, smart and spirited! He hefted her over his shoulder almost effortlessly, though she continued to kick and knee him, not that it was more than an inconvenience through his battlearmor. "Who are you? How did you get here?" her captor demanded, but his captive remained silent. She felt him attempting a mindscan, hah. With the special training those of royal blood received, he had no chance.

If Radditz was surprised to feel his mindscan rebuffed, he didn't show it. He flew them both back to his pod, questioning her all the way. At last they landed, and he eased her to the ground, still pinned.

"What are you going to do with me?" Kyuuri growled. He smirked again. "I think I'll take you back 'home' and let Frieza's minions deal with you."

Kyuuri gulped. If the reputation of Frieza's torturers was exaggerated, it wasn't by much. The very least they'd do was chop off her tail an inch at a time. "Unless...?" she prompted.

"Unless you tell me everything, starting with your name."

"Kyuuri," she pouted reluctantly.

"I'm Radditz."

And with that Kyuuri made up the most convincing story she could think of. Her pod broke down, she explained, forced to crash here...irreparable damage to the pod and her scouter...no way to get back home...

Radditz' eyes met hers, suspicion clearly in them. Then he slapped his captive, hard. "Don't lie to me again." Of course, to slap her he had to let go of one of her wrists, and Kyuuri took full advantage, punching her captor in the face as hard and as many times as she could manage before he pinned her again. "Ow...hey!"

Radditz contemplated what to do next and finally snaked his tail into his space pod, feeling around for his spare scouter. This was a tricky business, but he didn't dare let go of the girl. He already had a nasty feeling the scouter was going to aggravate his already-bruised eye. Ah, there it was! The warrior triumphantly flicked his tail over his head and started to settle the device into place, only to be greeted by a look of horror from his prisoner. "No! Please!"

"And why not?" he inquired, trying not to grimace. His bruises were more painful than he expected, and his patience was wearing out.

"Saiyajin lives depend on it," the girl whispered. "They can't know we're here."

"'We?? There are others?" Radditz wasn't sure whether to believe her, then remembered something. "I did pick up two lifesigns when I landed." All these years Radditz had assumed Kakarot was dead, but maybe he'd survived after all. "Who's the other one?"

"I...I don't know."

"I guess I'd better find out, then." Radditz grinned wickedly and tossed the struggling girl into his space pod and slammed the door. "Don't bother trying to get out; the lock's DNA-coded." He then put his scouter on and clicked on the power but turned the communications console off. He owed his brother at least that much. "I'll be back later. There's food and water in the compartment to your left."

Radditz powered up and took off, leaving behind an enraged Kyuuri fruitlessly pounding on the walls of his pod and screeching at him to come back and fight like a Saiyajin.

Half an hour later an exhausted Kyuuri slumped against the wall of the pod. Lost, she'd lost. She'd never felt so helpless. Pausing to catch her breath, she really looked at the pod for the first time. It was luxurious by Saiyajin standards, many grades above the barely-spaceworthy old rustbucket she'd landed here in. Faster, too, and with a new computer. Too bad the DNA locks kept her from piloting it, or she could've rammed Radditz to death with his own ship once she found him. He'd probably appreciate the irony in that.

As it was, there was nothing she could do but wait. She ought to grab some sleep, she thought, it would help her heal.

But she had something else to do first.

Finding Kyuuri's camp was a simple matter, much easier than finding her had been. While her bower and pod were camouflaged, the changes she'd made to the river were obvious from the air. Radditz touched down and surveyed the camp cautiously. The other Saiyajin his scouter had detected might be her ally, and he was in no mood to be ambushed again today. He slinked into camp like the hunter he was, noting the big stacks of firewood, metal cylinders, and some kind of white cloth. Obviously Kyuuri had been planning to stay here a long time. Maybe she really had been stranded?
He poked around her firestones and grunted with approval when he saw the tiny shelter. Not a bough wasted, and stores laid up with efficiency. He spiraled outward from the camp and didn't take long to find her pod. What a wreck! That model was obsolete decades ago! Maybe she actually had crashed on this backwater world.

He scanned the craft as a precaution. The power was on: that was odd. No lifesigns, though. Of course, it might be boobytrapped. Radditz stepped sideways out of range of any explosive welcome mats and used his ki to gently open the door.

Nothing happened, except he could now hear the normal operating hum. He peered inside warily and finally approached close enough to poke his head in, maintaining a ki-shield all the while. Still nothing. Encouraged, he glanced around, discerning the powered console was the one for cryogenics. "That's odd..." He tapped a command into the console, totally unprepared for what it was about to tell him.

There were Saiyajin babies in here. Four of them, two girls and two boys. Radditz' knees went weak, and he plopped onto the now-very-convenient pod seat. His race hadn't been wiped out after all! At least not completely. He leaned back, torn between relief and sheer terror. No wonder the girl had been so defensive!

This was going to complicate matters.