Taste of victory
I threw a jab, already ducking underneath a counter that I knew was coming. A lime green claw passed through my
static hair the same second that my fist collided with the saibaman's face. Unlike two months ago, it felt the blow. It squawked, knocked off balance as blood trickled out of a split lip.
Seizing the chance, I followed the attack up with a roundhouse kick that slammed into its side, its arm and body folding around my leg before it flew to the side like a speeding bullet
until it came to a sudden stop against a badly damaged metal wall.
Unfortunately, the saibaman shook off any damage, it cackled in a low tone, a mocking chuckle. My eyes narrowed at the unspoken taunt, my fists tightening until my knuckles were
bloodless. My blood felt hot in my veins, roaring to throw myself at the monster for underestimating me. Instead, I pulled myself back, settling in a mockery of a fighting stance.
"You're being passive again," Bardock commented through a large slab of barely cooked meat from his position at the door. I paid him no mind, giving the saibaman my full attention. It
settled in its usual stance, its arms up like it was about to tackle me and legs bent to rush forward.
I was ready for it when it lunged towards me, crossing the distance between us in a blink of an eye. Just like I expected, it attacked with its right — blocking it would get a counterattack
from its legs, dodging that make an opening to appear.
For two months I fought the saibaman every single day that I was able to. In the beginning, my days were fighting the saibaman, almost dying, healing for the rest of the day until
tomorrow rolled around. As time went by, each day the fights would last a little longer as my strength grew.
Months later, our bouts were only broken up only by food instead of having to go into the healing tank — I thought my power level would skyrocket. I was getting stronger, faster, better
in every single way. Yet, in the past week, my power level only went up a single point. I was stagnating instead of getting stronger. I only had ten months left and I wasn't anywhere
close to being able to take on the strongest saibamanA leg blurred towards my face, only my quick reflexes managing to save me from getting kicked. I jerked my head to the side, narrowly missing the blow, before countering with an
elbow aimed at its face. It's red eyes went wide before my elbow slammed into its forehead. It jerked back, stunned, and opened itself to a kick in its stomach. It flew away from me,
skidding to a halt near Bardock, who looked at it like it was something he scraped off his boots.
"You're getting distracted in the middle of a fight. I thought you were passed that," he continued through a mouthful of bone, the crunches seeming to echo in the mostly empty room.
My lips pressed into a thin line, knowing he was right but not wanting to agree with him. It was still stronger than me, I couldn't afford to get lost in my thoughts.
Bardock didn't like being ignored, but he liked it less when I responded in the middle of a fight. Learned that the hard way. I didn't respond, settling back into my stance as I waited for
the saibaman to come to me.
Over the months, it learned to be cautious instead of rushing in recklessly. I hadn't managed to kill it yet, but I gave more than I received in these recent bouts. After sparing a glance at
Bardock, it inched forward with a low growl. One step at a time, lunging every once and a while to bait me into dodging, but I stood firm and waitedIt was only because he stood behind the saibaman that I saw Bardock raise a hand before a beam of light rushed at me. I didn't have time to so much as think of dodging before I found
myself on my knees, clutching a freshly wounded shoulder. The ki blast burned through my suit, charring my skin and throbbed with agony.
The saibaman saw its chance and rushed forward, reaching me in a split second. I wasn't in a position to dodge, instead, I tensed and braced myself to take the blow. I shot backward,
my eyes on Bardock as I sailed through the air.
Was that it then? The moment I stopped making any progress, he decides to cut his losses and kill me? My downloaded lessons told me that the ideal saiyans were ruthless, selfcentered assholes - its wording differed - but experiencing it first hand was something else.
Bardock smirked when he saw my glare, another beam of light racing for me from the tip of his finger. I flipped, moving out of the way of the beam's path-
The saibaman filled my vision a split second before I felt a heavy blow land on my back. I slammed into the floor with a grunt, quickly flipping to my feet in a handspring. Not a second
later, the saibaman slammed a claw into the floor where I was. Metal crumpled like tissue paper, it cackling with glee as it yanked its hand out.
I couldn't seize the opportunity to settle in a defensive stance before another beam raced towards me. Dodging out of the way, another one slammed into my side as soon as I got out of
harm's way. "Ahh," I cried out despite myself, clutching at my side, feeling hot blood seep in between my fingers.
It wasn't a lethal wound. That would be too obvious. He was weakening me so that the saibaman would finish me off. It would leave a mess when it killed me, hiding most of the
evidence and, with King Vegeta's words ringing in my head like a bell, I knew no one would be looking too close to find any subtle evidence of my murder.
The saibaman was on me, attacking at my wounded shoulder that I managed to narrowly dodge. Another claw raced towards my face, leaning out of the wayAnother beam struck my knee. It gave out, letting me duck underneath the saibaman's attack. Out of position, I grabbed its arm and flipped it over my shoulder, using its momentum
against it. Expecting another attack from Bardock, I threw myself out of the way, my eyes on him, only to see that the attack never came.
Instead, he lowered his hand, a sigh escaping him. "You fight way too defensively. I haven't seen you take initiative once in two months of babysitting you," he commented, earning a
short pointed glare before I was forced to pay attention to the saibaman attacking me. "You pay no mind to your surroundings - in a one on one fight, that's fine. You were doing fine
right up until I started distracting you and now look at yourself."
My knee throbbed with agony when I put any weight on it, blood-soaked my side and every time I moved my shoulder made me want to curl up into a ball and just let myself die. Even
still, I dodged the saibaman's attacks, bobbing and weaving out of the way, unable to counterattack properly.
"All you do is counterattack. You never make the first move," Bardock continued, his tone careless as he set up my murder, rubbing salt into the wound. He didn't strike me as the kind
of guy who'd rub his victim's faces in their failings, but I was wrong. "Even when you have the upper hand, you never follow through. Like that elbow earlier - you could have taken out
one of its eyes if you hit it there instead of its forehead."
He was right. It galled me to admit, even if it was only to myself, but he was right. As if sensing my thoughts, Bardock continued to pick apart my abilities.
"Tarble," he said, shocking me enough that I looked over. It was the first time he said my name since I've known him. My shocked look was cut short when a claw lashed out at my face.
With no room to dodge, I took the blow on my forehead, hot blood dripping into my eyes where skin tore before I quickly retreated.
"We use saibamen because they're good at teaching the basics. Attack, dodging and so on. They're useful for that much. You've got that down, more or less. So, do you know what your
problem is now?" Bardock asked as I narrowly dodged another attack.
"I'm sure you're about to tell me," I remarked, redirecting an attack so it sailed harmlessly away from me.
"Heh. Your problem is that you're afraid of going to the next level," Bardock stated, not an ounce of doubt in his tone. "You just keep on fighting that saibaman, avoiding killing it, so you
can pat yourself on the back for not getting your ass kicked. And you want to call yourself a saiyan warrior."
I didn't have a response to that, the words striking home with as much force as any blow I suffered so far. They rang true, in spite of wanting him to be wrong. About everything. I
hadn't attacked first once this fight. I didn't seize every opportunity to put an end to the match - the elbow, when I threw it over my shoulder...if I went for the throat if I stomped on its
head…
I had chances to kill it and I didn't take any of them.
My doubt must have shown because Bardock continued in a deadly serious tone. "Enough wasting my time. Kill it now." The 'or else' went unsaid, but I heard it all the same.
I came to a stop some feet away from the saibaman. My wounds- I narrowly avoided another beam to my other knee, an attack that would have left me helpless. Turning to Bardock, I
saw him stare at me with a deadly serious expression. I wonder how many aliens saw that expression before they died.
"Stop thinking. Use your instincts. Kill it. Now." He commanded, the tip of his finger glowing as he readied another ki blast. He didn't fire it, leaving it as a threat. This time, I knew, it
would go through my heart no matter how I tried to dodge.
There was the ultimatum I expected, I thought, gritting my teeth as my eyes narrowed into a glare at Bardock then at the saibaman. With my wounds, victory was all but impossible,
and now Bardock could go to King Vegeta saying that he tried but I just wasn't up to the challenge. He put a surprising amount of thought into arranging my murder for a saiyan.
Even still, my hands curled into fists so tight that they trembled. Anger burned in my chest - at Bardock, at the saibaman, at King Vegeta for putting me in this situation and at myself
for letting it get this far- No. Enough of that. Enough thinking. If I was going to die...then I refused to die alone.
With my good leg, I launched myself forward, surprising the saibaman if its widening eyes were anything to go by. It reacted by meeting me halfway, lashing out with a claw. I accepted
the blow to my stomach, feeling its claws dig into my flesh, it stayed there, stunned at how wildly different I fought, letting me grab its wrist to keep it pinned.
Rearing my head back, I slammed it into the saibaman's forehead and felt it return the blow against my wounded shoulder as it clicked with fury. Swallowing a cry of pain, I pulled my
head back and headbutted it again. And again. And another time to be sure. Each time it struck back and each time I accepted the blows. I wasn't in any position to dodge before, and I
certainly wasn't now.
Letting out a pain-filled roar, I shoulder checked the saibaman, sticking one leg behind it's so it fell to the ground with me on top of it. It looked up at me dazed, it's large red eyes
unfocused as dark green blood dripped from its forehead. I hit it with all my strength, it's head jerking to the side, but that was all the damage I did. I wasn't strong enough to crush its
bones with my punches yet.
Then our eyes met, solid black against solid red, and I found my answer. I slammed my fist against its wide eye and felt something give way. My stomach heaved, hot green blood
splattering over my cheek, but I swallowed it down. The saibaman beneath me went still, dead.
"Sloppy as all hell, but it'll do. See what you can do when you don't use your head so much? You start acting like a proper saiyan," Bardock stated as I yanked my hand free, rolling off
the saibaman to my feet, turning my attention to him. An eyebrow quirked up in response, amusement dancing in his black eyes. "A little early for you to try to take me on, brat. Give it
a couple of decades when I'm out of my prime."
Gritting my teeth, I kept my fists raised, watching him step closer with each second. As soon as he entered striking- "Ughhhh…!" I groaned, every muscle going limp the second that his
hand wrapped around my tail, giving it a savage yank. "Let...go...scarface…"
"I will soon enough," Bardock answered, carrying me by the tail, my limp legs dragging across the ground. Was this it? Was I about to taste defeat so soon after tasting victory? Without
so much as a fight? No. I was a saiyan! A warrior! I would not die withoutMy thoughts were interrupted by Bardock letting go of my tail, tossing me into a pod. A door slammed shut behind me, a moment before the pod began filling with water. Drowning me?
Did he not- oh. Right. Healing pod. I...kinda got caught up in my thoughts, didn't I?
"I gotta go report this to King Vegeta, so sit tight. I'll be back later," Bardock said, knocking on the healing tank before I saw him walking away. I watched him leave, wondering if I
should say something for assuming that he was going to murder me, but decided against it. Mostly because he didn't know so there was technically nothing to apologize for.
I found myself slipping into meditation out of habit, trying to drift off to think about what happened today. Instead, I chose to think of nothing, letting my mind go blank as the healing
tank worked its magic. That way, it only felt like it took a moment for my body to heal when it took hours.
With well-practiced ease, I pressed the drain button and got out. Rolling my shoulder, I inspected my side and stomach to see smooth skin. There wasn't even a single scar despite
months of life and death struggles against a foe that, until today, was vastly stronger than me.
Even now, I was still weaker than the saibaman. Was I just putting too much stock in power levels? I thought I would have to have a power level of at least 500 to defeat it. Given my
condition when I killed it, odds were the gap between us was bigger than it usually was.
"Maybe…" I started, staring through the thick metal door that separated this room from the training room. I could practically feel the other two saibamen on the other side. The
strongest saibaman would still be beyond me, but the other would only be twice as strong as me. I could win. I wouldn't, but I could.
With my mind made up, I strode out of what served as my bedroom, to fight my next fight.
Meeting King Vegeta was daunting as always, Bardock thought walking through wide-open halls of the palace, spotting a large bald man well out of his prime leaning against a door to
the throne room. He sported a white beard, his head devoid of any hair with a large X shaped scar covering most of his scalp.
"Matillo," Bardock nodded, not stopping his stride despite the older saiyan making no move to get out of his way. Matillo said nothing, his arms crossed while he watched Bardock
approach. His heartbeat started to pick up, an itch that was begging to be scratched for months now suddenly seemed so much worse when he was on a collision course with a mid-class
saiyan.
Right when Bardock was about to walk into him, determined to either get into the throne room or start a fight, Matillo finally opened his eyes to look at him. "You're supposed to be
babysitting," he observed, his voice rough like gravel.
"He's takin' a nap right now," Bardock answered shortly, smirking when his eyes narrowed dangerously. His tail twitched in anticipation, hands curled into fists, ready to throw the first
punch.
"Oh?" Matillo uttered, pushing himself off the door and standing at his full height. He was a head and shoulders taller than Bardock not counting his hair, his power radiating from him,
making every hair stand on end. Bardock's smirk turned into a full-blown smile, his blood sang in his veins as his heart started hammering away at his ribs. "Is he going to be waking up
from that nap?"
"Who knows?" He hedged with a shrug, letting his power leak out as a silent challenge. Matillo met it, abandoning subtlety entirely. His aura exploded out of him, waves of it crashing
over Bardock with enough force he had to take a step back to avoid falling over entirely. Not one to be outdone, he let go of his restraint and went full throttle.
"You're still years of way to be worth scraping off my boots," Matillo drawled, sounding unimpressed. Couldn't blame him for that. He was decades out of his prime and he was still
stronger than him. Odds were, he crushed low-ranking trash like him underfoot on his way to bigger and badder game without noticing.
"Maybe," Bardock agreed, cocking his head as he relished in the feeling, a feeling he went without for two months. That moment before a fight, when the tension became almost
unbearable. Saiyan warriors lived for that moment just as much as they lived for fighting and Bardock was no different. "How about we find out?
The tension was ruined by the door behind Matillo cracked open, revealing a slight man with a bushy mustache. He was thin as a twig, no muscle to speak of, while everything else about
him screamed that he was a working-class saiyan. He wore Frieza-force style armor, a long hoop covering the back half of his legs. King Vegeta's personal servant. It would explain why
he looked so uncaring in the face of two powerful saiyans about to fight.
"King Vegeta will see you, Bardock." He said, bowing a fraction. Instantly, Matillo powered down, letting out an annoyed huff. Without uttering another word, the older saiyan marched
forward. This time, Bardock was the one that remained unmoving as he approached.
"We'll continue this later," Bardock swore, stepping out of his way at the last possible second.
"Your funeral," Matillo agreed without sparing a look in his direction.
Bardock watched him go, torn between excitement and disappointment that the fight wouldn't be happening now. He settled with disappointed. He hadn't thrown a single punch in
months. Hitting the kid with energy blasts was the closest thing to action that he got since becoming a caretaker.
"King Vegeta is waiting for you," the servant...Spargu reminded with a sweeping gesture. Knowing that keeping the temperamental king waiting was a bad idea, Bardock stepped passed
him and entered the throne room. King Vegeta sat on his throne, looking imposing as ever. His expression was impassive, making it impossible to tell if he cared at all about what
happened just outside his door.
If he did, then he was a dead man walking. Such was the price when dealing with royal jackasses.
His son, Vegeta, because a king and a planet weren't enough, stood at his side. He took after his father more than his mother, practically a carbon copy of the king right down to the
same widows peak and dark red cape. It was downright creepy. Bardock was half sure that he got his hands on some cloning tech and just made a mini-him instead.
"Bardock. I didn't expect to see you so soon. Is the child dead?" King Vegeta drawled, sounding bored as he stared down at him with dull eyes. Young Vegeta did the exact opposite by
perking up, suddenly very interested in what he had to say.
"No, my king," Bardock spoke, falling to his knee. "He killed the weakest saibaman earlier and is recovering in the healing pod." Best to leave out how he got that to happen. Tarble
would have wasted the year away without the kick he needed. A normal saiyan parent would understand that. King Vegeta wasn't a normal parent by any stretch of the imagination.
King Vegeta's eyes widened a fraction, stunned before a slight smile appeared on his face. His shock swiftly became smugness, his smirk sharp enough to cut. It was like Vegeta and
Tarble's accomplishments were his, no matter how pitiful they might be.
"How surprising. I never imagined he would be able to kill one of them, especially not so soon." King Vegeta uttered, "his progress is well beyond my expectations. In truth, I was
worried I would have to send the boy off on an infiltration mission, but it seems that he escaped that fate. It would seem that he does have a fighting spirit despite his pitiful power
level." He explained despite no one asking.
"Tell me Bardock, how much progress has he made?" King Vegeta continued, leaning back in his chair now that the fate of his son was sealed. It was a common tactic for rearing children
- give them an impossible task for them to bash their heads against until one gave way.
It was a good way of further weeding out the warriors from the rest. Power levels weren't everything. Without a drive pushing them forward to the next level, then those saiyans
stagnated. Then died, preferably alone without dragging the rest of their team with them.
Or…, Bardock silently added to himself, they join the working-class. Like Gine had.
"His power level was 460 before he killed it. It's probably a little higher now," he answered, savoring King Vegeta's stunned expression. Bardock couldn't blame him for it. He barely
believed it and he watched it happen over months, ever vigilant to make sure the brat wasn't killed on accident.
Tarble was a spit in the face of the class system. An anomaly that stood against everything that they were raised to believe - the power level you were born with represented how far you
would go in life. Bardock was born at the very edge of being born into the mid-class, so it was accepted and expected that he could one day rise in class. Tarble was born with a pl of 16,
and yet, if he had the power level that he did now, he would have been born into the elite-class. Tarble was a freak of nature not just because of how much he grew in strength, but
because of how fast as well.
"I see," King Vegeta said, ignoring a look from his kid. Having raised Raditz, Bardock recognized it as an expression kids made when they wanted to say something but knew better. Not
that it stopped Raditz. "Children do see some explosive growth, but this is extraordinary. As expected of my progeny."
Bardock nodded, not trusting himself to not make a remark about that. "Despite his growth, I've noticed some problems." He spoke up, listing out the same issues he told Tarble earlier.
King Vegeta nodded, looking displeased but he didn't start throwing energy blasts, so that was good. Eventually, he nodded curtly.
"Fix those flaws, Bardock. I will provide another three- no, five saibamen to remedy this." That was a little excessive. If Tarble survived, then that weakness was going to be polished
out. "Is that all?"
Bardock shifted where he knelt, words resting heavily on his tongue. Unfortunately, King Vegeta noticed. "Speak," he ordered, his words sounding like a threat
"Tarble…" How did he say this without getting killed? "Spends too much time in his head. I know he can speak, but he rarely says a word. I got curious about how long he could go
without speaking, and he didn't say a word for three weeks. Well, not counting all the screams." Even then, his streak was only broken by muttering a curse when the saibaman started
stomping on his legs, breaking them in a dozen places.
"Oh?" King Vegeta uttered, frowning. "Thyme mentioned this might be an issue. It seems he was too advanced mentally in the gestation tank, so it could adversely affect his
personality." He explained, sounding like he was quoting the Caretaker instead of speaking his own thoughts. "He wasn't stimulated enough while gestating, stunting certain parts of his
brain. I have been assured that it won't interfere with his abilities."
That didn't address the issue, though. "But-" The word escape his mouth before he could think better of it. King Vegeta's gaze turned sharp, his cold anger starting to simmer when
Bardock didn't continue.
"You have something to say?" King Vegeta asked, Bardock's eyes closing for a split second as he came to a decision.
"He's not going to be able to function on a team if he stays how he is. He doesn't communicate and he spends too much time in his head." Bardock answered bluntly. Tarble was
antisocial by saiyan standards. In the months he watched over the brat, not once did Tarble even try to leave his room. He didn't leave to get extra food from the cafeteria or go outside
to see the sun. He just fought, healed, ate and fought some more. His determination was unnerving, to say the least.
Worse, it wasn't entirely his fault. Bardock didn't know when exactly his consciousness clicked into place, but he could have spent years floating in a tank unable to say anything.
That sounded like a nightmare as far as Bardock was concerned. Unable to move, unable to fight, eat or talk for years… It didn't really sink in until he started thinking about it, but he
was probably the only other saiyan he spent more than five minutes with. That was...depressing.
"I want to break him out of those habits now before they become too ingrained and cause problems that could get him killed later on," Bardock explained, meeting his sharp gaze. King
Vegeta was silent, his son fuming next to him but not speaking, even as he glared bloody murder at Bardock.
"It sounds like you have a suggestion," King Vegeta intoned, his words clipped. Bardock wasn't surprised. It was obvious that he was about to make a play and he guessed King Vegeta
got plenty of practice dealing with them as king.
"Put him on a squad. He's strong enough." Bardock replied, trying to keep the hope out of his voice. Everyone won this way. Tarble got to stop getting nearly beaten to death every day
and, more importantly, Bardock would be free to go on missions with his team. "Not only will it bring him out of his shell, but it would also be a chance to mold him into a capable
leader."
For a long minute, the only sound in the throne room was the sound of King Vegeta tapping his finger. "You make a fair point Bardock," he complimented, raising red flags, seeing the
slight smirk on the king's lips those red flags started waving madly. "Thank you for volunteering your squad. As an extremely talented tactician, I'm sure Tarble will be safe in your care
while you teach him all that you know."
Bardock clenched his jaw so hard a muscle spasmed as he struggled to push the anger he felt down. He...he should have expected that. He should have expected King Vegeta to shut
down any attempt to free himself of the brat so he could get stronger and finally become the eleventh mid-class saiyan. King Vegeta didn't want him to rise in class. That was why he
made him, of all people, look after the brat.
"It would be my honor to continue looking after Tarble," Bardock spoke through gritted teeth, his anger must have shown because Young Vegeta sneered at him while his father just
looked smug.
"I am pleased to hear it Bardock. You have my utmost faith. However, should Tarble die…" King Vegeta mocked, making Bardock close his eyes briefly, his fist trembling in rage.
"Then I die too." Bardock bit out, having heard the ultimatum once before months ago. Knowing that his audience was at an end, Bardock bowed before walking away, seething with
rage. As soon as the heavy doors closed behind him, Bardock slammed a fist against a stone wall, it gave way like sand.
A low growl escaped him as he left the palace and flew back to the Nursery, irritated and frustrated. All the while Bardock thought furiously to himself. He should have just written the
brat off as a hopeless weakling and let that be that. King Vegeta understood that you couldn't make talent magically appear - that was why so many weak children were sent to conquer
planets, both to rid the saiyan race of deadweight and to find those rare late bloomers.
"Should have lied," Bardock reflected, spotting the training room door. He should have said that the brat didn't have any fighting spirit in him a month ago, then he would be back with
his team going on missions, prepping for the war with the Reach. He should have just ignored his curiosity on how exactly Tarble managed to slowly increase his strength each day, only
to plateau when he wasn't getting beaten half to death every day.
Bardock was paying for finding the answers he sought. Who knew when he would be able to put his theory into practice?
With a sigh, he opened the door to see...a corpse. No, not a corpse, but a corpse in the making. Two saibamen stomped on Tarble, his legs bent at unnatural angles, a bone sticking out
of his arm, laying in a pool of his own blood.
"You!" Bardock snapped, the saibamen jerked in surprise, looking at him with wide fear-filled eyes. They died with that expression when he closed the distance, flipping the kid over to
see a battered and bloodied face with closed eyes. They tried to butterfly open, but the swelling was already too bad for him to see through. "I take my eyes off you for one minute!"
Grabbing the idiot by the scruff of his neck, Bardock stomped over to the healing tank, his anger boiling over. "I take it back. You don't think, you little half-tailed moron," he snapped at
the unconscious boy, tossing him into the tank and starting the healing process. Watching the tank fill up, he took a glance at his vitals to see that he was going to survive. Probably.
For a long minute, Bardock just stared at the tank, anger slowly dissipating, leaving exhaustion in its place. Dragging a hand down his face, a sigh escaped him. It was clear that his
biggest challenge wasn't going to turn this lump of densely condensed stupidity in the shape of a toddler into a saiyan warrior, but stopping said lump of stupid from killing himself.
How did he get out of this? He wanted to go out on missions again, but any that Tarble was qualified to do were so easy Bardock could do them with his eyes closed, hands and tail tied
behind his back. Not to mention that his crew would mutiny at the very idea. None of them would grow stronger and any hope of finding a decent fight on those missions was a
pipedream.
Bardock stared at the battered and broken brat for a long moment, a plan forming in his head. If the problem was that the missions Tarble qualified for were too boring, then the obvious
solution was to bring him on missions that Bardock's team would want to go on. Then the only issue was making sure that Tarble didn't die, which was a pain, but he preferred it to not
going on missions at all.
A smile threatened to tug at Bardock's lips, only to fall a second later when he continued to look at the mostly dead kid.
"This...is going to be harder than I thought.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone