Hello everyone, ShadowMajin with some big news and a new story for y'all. I know some of you are waiting for Disastrous Space Adventures, but I've had this little story here since I was writing Immortal Enemies. It's also an idea I've messed around with way back when I was writing the Battle Stain Trilogy, though this now makes it an official series.

As much as I love Battle Stain and its subsequent sequels, I admit there were quite a few holes in it, particularly concerning things that happened leading up to the three stories themselves. This story here is to try and clean up some of those holes, along with a second story. Yep, that's right, I've got two prequels coming.

While it would seem to be better to just make one prequel and be done with it, this is more of an homage to my favorite author ever, Roger Zelazny. He was known for his Amber Series, the original and following series covering five books each. So once I firmly had it in mind to do a prequel, I thought why stop there and make it my own five-story series. So be ready for a second prequel some time after this is finished.

And on another note, this is my first non-Gohan story. Weird to say he's been the only character I've written 20+ stories about. But with that said, I've enjoyed going into Bardock. One of these days I need to do a story on with that guy. He's just too much fun not to write about.

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

Disclaimer 2: Nor do I own the song titles of Evanescence.


They were lined up in columns from one end of the room to the other. Standing tall, straight, at attention, each warrior looked straight ahead. Masses of spiky, black hair pointed in every which direction save for the bald men.

Polished armor covered every man and woman there, gleaming in the light falling from the high ceiling. Shoulder guards extended out from above naked or spandex-covered arms, the arms pressed rigidly into their sides. The same could be said of their hands, either gloved or bare, but all were balled into fists. Regardless of style though, each one of them had a furry, brown tail wrapped securely around their waists, due to either decorum or just plain common sense, take your pick.

Each column of armored warriors wore the same color of armor, be it blinding white or gleaming black; the same could be said of bright golden or darkened brown shoulder guards. It was quite a spectacle from the men situated on a stage in front of them.

One of those men stood out of the gathered men on stage. Every single one of them also had similar armor covering their bodies, the only difference between them and the rest of the warriors here were the bright red capes attached to their guards and hanging limply behind them. One stood out in front of them all, a man that was tall, heavily-muscled, and a small bald head that seemed to contradict his large body mass. He was the highest-ranked Saiyan military general here, General Nappa.

With a smirk surrounded by a dark goatee, the Saiyan was giving a speech about the greatness of the Saiyan race, the honor it was to serve their incredible military might, blah, blah, blah. Bardock had begun blocking the blowhard out the moment he had begun talking. These military rallies were always a waste of time to him, but as was protocol with being part of the military, he had to dress up in one of these fancy-smancy armors and stand at attention for several hours. Considering nearly every able-bodied Saiyan was required to join the military, damn near everyone on the planet had to show up at some point or another throughout the year.

Bardock suppressed a grunt of annoyance as he subtly shifted his weight from one leg to another. When was this thing going to finish? He swore these things got longer every time he came to one. If he was in an exaggerative mood, he would've claimed these things were the biggest reason why he stayed out on deep space missions. However, he was never in one of those moods to be honest. Being a drama queen was a desperate cry for attention, a disgraceful action for a battle-hardened Saiyan warrior such as himself. Plus that behavior was for the women like his daughter-in-law, the crazy banshee.

Letting his dark eyes move from the stage in front of him, he began roaming about the oversized auditorium, looking for something that would give him some entertainment. The first thing he found was his oldest son Raditz. If there was ever a prototypical Saiyan ever made, that was Raditz. Arrogant, blood-thirsty, and highly temperamental, the only thing that exceeded those character traits was his hair. Damn was that hair long. If Raditz hadn't looked like him, Bardock would have accused his late wife of having been with a fence-jumper. He was pretty damn sure there wasn't a long-haired Saiyan on his side of the family and he hadn't really cared to know her side either. Then again, she hadn't cared for her family either, so it definitely made meeting the parents a non-issue.

But he was his son, so he afforded the young man the care and generosity a father would—meaning he didn't care what the young man did as long as it didn't wake Bardock up from his nap. Raditz had always had a strong desire to move up in society, so he spent most of his time away from the family plot. Bardock honestly didn't mind that at all. If that was what his son wanted, then that was just fine with him. Personally, he had never had the urge to rise up in society. Seemed a waste of time to him.

And that was when his eyes switch from one side of the room to the other, landing his attention on his other son. Kakarot was a pretty close clone to him, save his more gentler features and the lack of a permanent cross-shaped scar on his cheek. The same wild, spiky hair, the same lean body, hell, they practically shared the same pajamas. Kakarot had a similar attitude of societal advancement as he had, something that frustrated his eldest all the time.

However, for the oddest reason his youngest preferred to be called by a childhood name he had picked up somewhere at some point. Again, Bardock didn't care what his spawn did, which included what they called themselves. They could've called themselves Bastard and he wouldn't have a problem. However, he had called him by his birth name since the moment he was born and he didn't really care to change that now.

Seeing how Kakarot seemed to follow in his footsteps though, it wasn't much a surprise to him that the young man had gotten married, settled down on a plot adjacent to his property, and made his own family. Already he was working on his second son, like Bardock had before him. Or was the second one already here? Meh, he'd find out the next time he stopped over at his house. However, unlike him, Kakarot seemed to have a thing for naming his kids after variations of his nickname for some reason or other.

"A Saiyan fights for honor!" General Nappa's voice suddenly declared loudly, causing Bardock to return his attention there. "A Saiyan fights for the rush of conquest that we forever thirst for!" Oh great, he was beginning to recognize this part. Nappa was starting to wind down his dumb little speech. About friggin' time. "There is not a race that stands as tall, as proud as us and never will there ever be. By serving, you honor not only yourselves, but the entire Saiyan race! Without honor, you might as well not even exist. There would be no purpose to your existence. But all of you, you have a purpose. You fight for your people, the greatest race of warriors the universe as ever seen! Be proud! And never forget who you serve!"

In front of the stage, a row of Saiyans lifted up long, golden horns and began trumpeting out some grand song that was customary for these ceremonies. It was supposed to mark the end of a speech, something of which Bardock was grateful for. All around him, Saiyans began to applaud the speech as they were supposed to, but he kept his hands at his sides. He wasn't green anymore, nor did he see any point to awarding some guy for having a set of lungs that could talk non-stop.

Fortunately he didn't have to stand at attention for very long. The Saiyans behind him began to leave the room, the sound of their boots clashing with the ground growing louder and louder. When he felt the person behind him pull away, he turned around and followed the crowd out.

Because of this, he never saw Nappa turn his grinning mug to one of the men on stage, a man with a stock of tall, spiky hair. "Hey King Vegeta, that was a pretty good speech."

The man tilted his head to the general, his goatee-surrounded mouth twitching. "Yes, that was a good waste of time."


"Father!" a voice called out from behind him.

This didn't put Bardock in a good mood. Was it too much to ask that he be able to get out of this military-issued armor and back into his usual one? It seemed so since one of his spawn wanted his attention. Coming to a stop, Bardock turned his head to look back, finding Raditz closing in on him. "What do you want?" he grunted.

"Aren't you staying?" his eldest spawn questioned, giving him a serious look. "Command is going to be issuing service assignments shortly."

"Someone will let me know where I'm assigned," Bardock shrugged, turning forward to begin moving again. "They always do."

"You know it is part of your duty to stay," Raditz retorted, following after him.

"If they wanted me to stay, they would have put an armed guard at every entrance," Bardock shot back. "Better yet, they would've thrown me in the brig the first time I skipped out. Seeing as they haven't done that in all the years I've served, I'm pretty sure they don't care if I stay here or go home."

"That isn't the attitude for advancement," his eldest said, frustration growing in his voice. Bardock frowned at that. It shouldn't have come to a surprise to Raditz that he would be leaving, not to mention his apathy towards advancement.

"Like I care," he said, pushing past a group of Saiyans. "You may care about promotions and all, but it won't amount to shit when we're in a fight. A general can die just as easily as a private; the only difference is one of them has more decorations than a whore in the Red Light."

"You're just as infuriating as usual," Raditz grumbled.

Bardock paused long enough to give the Saiyan an annoyed look. "Were you expecting something else?"

"Bardock!" another voice called, further eating away at his already thin patience. Once again looking for the source of the voice, he found a very familiar face.

The guy was taller than him, bulkier too. He seemed more at ease in his fancy blue Military armor, though that was pretty much all Bardock had ever seen him wear. Toma had been a guy he had fought along side with for many years, usually being selected on the same crews. Definitely a reliable guy he didn't mind watching his back.

"Toma, you're looking good," Bardock greeted, nodding his head at his fellow comrade. In turn, Toma raised a hand up, Bardock immediately reciprocating. Grasping each other around their forearms, they gave a solid shake and released.

"You look just as uncomfortable as ever," Toma returned the greeting, a friendly grin on his face. "You trying to sneak your way out of here already?"

"I'm not sneaking around. I'm just walking right through the front door. Unless you've got something important to say, I'd rather be out of here."

The Saiyan shook his head amusedly, his neatly cropped spiky hair keeping in place. "Don't worry, I'll make it short. I just found out the two of us have been assigned a space mission."

Bardock tilted his head towards Raditz, giving him a meaningful look. "There, happy I stuck around?" he asked mockingly. This just caused the young man to scowl at him. Looking back to Toma, he asked "So what's this mission?"

"Nothing too exciting," Toma replied indifferently. "We're just supposed to check out one of the resource asteroids. Should be a piece of cake really."

This time it was Bardock's turn to scowl. "So they're sending us there for what? Babysitting duty? What a waste of friggin' time."

Toma coughed before he shrugged, replying with "Someone's gotta do it. We just drew the short straw this time." Raising a hand, he clasped the wild-haired Saiyan's shoulder guard. "We have a few days before they send us off, so they'll tell us more about the mission. In the meantime, you want to go for a drink? I could definitely go for a stiff one."

"I'll meet ya at the usual spot," Bardock replied. "First I'm gonna get out of this stupid piece of armor." Moving away, Toma's arm fell off his shoulder, the Saiyan giving him a wide smirk. Turning his back to him, Bardock waved his hand to him as he walked away. "If they miss me, tell them I had something better to do."

"You got it," was the reply.

However, Bardock didn't get too far—again—as Raditz was pulling up next to him. With a scowl, he glanced over to his spawn and said "This is why I don't stay around after these speeches."

"Perhaps if you actually represented yourself better, you wouldn't have been given such a mission," Raditz retorted.

"Raditz, if I wanted your advice, I'd ask for it."

"Says the dried up old man."

"Says the dried up old man that can still kick your ass."

Opposing looks appeared on the Saiyan's faces, an annoyed scowl on Raditz's and a satisfied smirk on Bardock's. "I will beat you, Old Man," the shaggy-haired Saiyan threatened.

"One day you might," Bardock acknowledged. "But until that day comes, I will continue to beat your ass black and blue. The same goes for your brother."

"I know. I know."