Author's Notes: New series. Probably going to be about the length of Sustenance with Love. There's a lot more to work off of with this one though.

Bra looked over at her father for a long time, watching him just sit there silently while the group of earthling warriors talked and played. All except him. It was fitting- he wasn't an Earthling and so he didn't associate with them. Even after marrying one, he just didn't want to involve himself in the idle chit-chat. So, Prince Vegeta would sit with his back to the wall of the Capsule Corporation, his arms crossed over his broad chest with his eyes shut and his head held high in a prideful manner only he was able to portray.

Her blue eyes looked around, nobody was paying much attention to her currently. They were too busy yelling at Trunks and Goten for doing something ignorant. As usual, she scoffed to herself.

So, Bra decided to slip away from the Earthlings. She was already in-tuned enough with that side of her bloodline. Nah, it was time for her to ask her dad some questions about her Saiyan heritage.

"Yo, Daddy," Bra spun around slightly on her heel gracefully and plopped her feet down in front of him, staring up into his face as she awaited his reaction.

He opened his eyes to look at her, his expression stoic and unreadable. "Hmm." Of course. He didn't like to use his words. She sneered in irritation of that fact. He was so difficult sometimes!

"Dad, I want to learn about you," the pushy fourteen year old poked his chest matter-of-factly.

"That's very vague."

"You're very vague!" she countered.

And Vegeta took the childish statement silently, turning his head to look away from her and at the scenery.

"Daddy," Bra put the sugary tone back on for him as she tried again, "I was curious about my Saiyan heritage is all and I figured you were the best person to ask."

His eyes were on her face again. Yup, she had him. "Why right now?"

"Well," Bra began rocking back and forth on her heels innocently, "You never talk about it. So I figured now is as good a time as any to ask you about it."

Vegeta's gaze turned to look at the Earthlings for a long time. It irked Bra how long it was taking for him to take her up on the offer.

"I mean," she began hastily, "You just stand over here all dejected looking. I figured that Saiyan thing might have something to do with it but then Goku would be all dejected TOO. I wanted some evaluation."

He snorted in astonishment of how casual she was acting, "You don't have enough time for a 'Saiyan evaluation.'"

"We can always stop and pick up later," she suggested.

Vegeta turned his eyes to look at her again. He was considering it. She could tell by how his eyebrows were scrunching together. Yeah, she had him.

"Come inside," he ordered, pushing himself off the wall with his foot before padding inside. Bra smiled victoriously, ignoring the confused look she was receiving from her mother, and she followed suit.

"SO!" she plopped down on the couch across from him, "Where IS the planet that Saiyan's originate from!?" she grinned up at him in excitement. Vegeta almost felt guilty for dashing her dreams.

"There isn't one," he looked down at her with firmness associated with hiding his emotions, "It was destroyed."

"Oh. That's a bummer."

"A bummer hardly constitutes the amount of agony my people have been through," Vegeta scoffed at her ignorance.

"Well, enlighten me," she leaned back, crossing her arms and watching him impatiently.

"Saiyans originate from Planet Vegeta-sei-"

"Vegeta-sei?" Bra looked at him with an arched eyebrow.

"Yes. Named for my family. Vegeta."

"… And everybody from you and before that is named Vegeta?"

"Only in the royal family."

"So I have a Grandpa Vegeta? And a Grandma Vegeta? And an Uncle Vegeta? And an Aunt Vegeta-"

"Don't be condescending. Vegeta is the name of the next in line to the throne. I was the prince, therefore I was named Vegeta after my father, King Vegeta," he took a seat across from her now, looking at her simply.

"A prince, huh?" she seemed unimpressed. This conversation was becoming very reminiscent of his conversation with Bulma over this very same subject. "Wait. So that makes me a princess?" she added, suddenly a little more interested.

"No. I was never…" he seemed to search for the phrasing, his lips pursing slightly in annoyance.

"Promoted?" she offered.

"In a way. The planet was wiped out before I could be 'promoted'."

"Why weren't you hurt, Dad?" she cocked her head in curiosity.

He looked away, "I wasn't on the planet then. I was with a man named Lord Frieza."

"Huh?" he'd lost her.

"A dictator of sorts. He went through the universe wiping out planets and taking what remained of the people as slaves and soldiers," she was unnerved by the coldness in his voice.

"What were you?" she inquired.

"Pardon?" he looked like he'd just snapped back into reality, "What do you mean?"

"A slave? Or a soldier?" she blinked innocently.

"… Both."

"You ever kill anybody, Dad?"

Silence… She didn't think he was breathing for a long time. It wasn't as though Bra was blind to the fact her father had killed people but she had never heard it from him. It was always hinted at, though. His back was rigid, his eyes blank as the silence crawled into the room.


"Yes," he replied. "I did."

"… In battle or just because?"


Bra pursed her lips together and her eyebrows pulled together, "How many have you killed?"

He barked an absurd laugh, "I never thought to count," he shook his head at her. "It's a Saiyan instinct. To fight- to kill. I was just enabled to do it through Frieza's orders instead of my own."

"… An estimate?" Bra asked softly.

"Why are you so interested in a body-count, Bra?" he demanded coldly, looking down his nose at her in irritation.

"I just want to understand you better, Dad. This seemed like the best place to start… However, I'm regretting that decision right about nooow," her voice trailed and she broke eye-contact.

"An estimate would be in the millions, Bra."

She stared at him in shock. "… Oh."

"Yes," a short intake of breath through his nose at her incredulous curiosity, "Oh would most certainly be the correct reaction to that."

"Were you the only one who survived? I mean, other than Goku and stuff."

"No. There were two others," he replied, suddenly a bit uneasy at this question. More so than the body count.

"What happened to them?"

"The Namekian killed one," Vegeta told her, then he stared out the window, "I killed the other."

Her face softened, "… Why?"

"Because, he was a warrior and he deserved a warrior's death," he spat, suddenly defensive.

"Why then?"

"He had just been beaten. I was saving him the shame of crawling back to Frieza."

"You've been beaten plenty of times and nobody took you to the back yard and killed you," Bra softly said.

"And that is why you are only half-Saiyan."

Her mouth parted, suddenly not so full of questions. "Oh…"

"Yes. Oh is the Earthling reaction to that," his words were harsh and he got up quickly, leaving the room in a moody huff as she brewed on the answers she had received.

Well, it hadn't gone as she thought it would but she'd made a little bit of progress. She could get more information from Goku or anybody else if she wanted it now that Vegeta had given her the ends of the rope to follow.

Or… she could resume questioning her father at spaced intervals.

She decided it would be a good way to bond with him and chose the latter.