Disclaimer: I do not own
Author's Notes: This is my attempt to work through writer's block on "The Soul." (By the way, please read and review that.) I came up with this concept when I was bored out of my mind in sociology. Nappa is just one of those one-dimension characters. The only time I ever see him in a story is (a) as a faithful, if not wholly intelligent, protector of young Vegeta under Frieza's rule and (b) as a dead person in hell out for revenge against Vegeta. Surely there's something more to him. So, I decided to attempt to write him. Now, this is a document that Nappa is writing. It has been found and is being read by someone whose identity will not be disclosed until the end. I'm not sure when the end will come, but be patient, and enjoy.
Being of Sound Mind and Body
I, Nappa, being of sound mind and body…
Well, darn. I promised myself I wouldn't lie, and now I have already. I definitely have a sound body—an extremely strong body—but a sound mind? Not after what I've seen.
First off, let me explain a few things, since you're probably not a Saiyan. No Saiyan would be reading this. Prince Vegeta definitely wouldn't. And he's the only one left…
I can see his space pod now. He's probably asleep. He always hated long trips. Hated the inactivity. I think induced sleep is the only time His Highness allows himself peace. He probably thinks I'm asleep, too. Fact is, I rarely sleep.
Where was I? Oh, yes. Explaining things. First, let me introduce myself. I am Nappa, Saiyan elite, former general of the Saiyan army. And yes, I am a Saiyan, one of the four—two—surviving members of the greatest warrior race of all time.
And why am I writing this? Well, it's an old Saiyan custom, although I'm probably the only one who remembers it. You see, Saiyans aren't exactly record-keepers or historians. We're not bookworms. We're warriors, built for battle. Any Saiyan who would try to write the exploits of others would either go stir-crazy or malign the warriors he's recording. But every warrior wants to be remembered. Otherwise, why fight? So, before a Saiyan dies, he writes—well—it doesn't translate exactly into Common. Think of it as a combination memoirs and last will. It's called a sarka. Now, most sarkas I've read have been downright boring. The lower-class Saiyans have no writing skills, or intelligence, so it's nothing more than a list, more often than not short, of accomplishments. And the elite are often so pompous that half the things they talk about is absolute crap. Pure exaggeration. There's no way that any one warrior could accomplish so much. I've read seven sarkas that claimed credit for recovering the same holy relic single-handedly. No wonder Saiyans are considered stupid.
Don't get me wrong. Most Saiyans are stupid. Take Radditz, for example. Poor boy. Doesn't have two brain cells to rub together. He survived by blindly following my orders. And the one time he rebelled—well… You'd think with a father like Bardock… now, there was a Saiyan. Tall. Admirable head of hair. The strongest non-elite warrior, and probably could have defeated a number of elites if not for the class barrier. And smart. We had space pods before ever allying with Frieza, and we didn't steal them. Bardock just—built them. He always worked closely with the military, and he had even taken my son as an assistant…
Well, I have to start somewhere, so I guess I'll start at the beginning. I was born around sixty years ago. At least, I think. Time is sort of meaningless in a space pod, where there is no night and no day. You can leave one planet at six in the morning and land three hours later where it's eleven at night. My most reliable measure of time used to be Radditz and the prince, but they've grown up enough to where they age little. Well, I keep getting sidetracked. I was going into my early life. It was typical. I was born to a lower elite family. I was, of course, given the best military training as soon as I could walk. That is custom. Everyone has a place in the military. Even when my parents died, I was not orphaned. I simply moved into barracks. No home or parents to report to. Just my drill sergeant. Much more convenient that way.
I imagine the person reading this is some liberal-minded peace-loving Frieza-fodder. Otherwise you wouldn't be planet-side long enough to find this. You may think my life a harsh one. Well, you'd be right. My life is very harsh. Why shouldn't it be? How many pampered children have died in nice vehicles wearing nice clothing driving down well-kept roads? At least, well-kept before they were ki-blasted. How many rich people have been incinerated reclining in their own mansions? How many children are buried under their parents' heavy corpses who died foolishly to slightly prolong the misery of their spoiled brats? Too many to count, for I've seen enough of them.
But, I digress. My harsh childhood has served me well. I worked my way up in ranks, excelling in both fighting and military strategy. I was the youngest in officer's school, attending at the record age of ten, the very year the last King of Planet Vegeta was crowned.
I was the best.
I'm not saying this in arrogance or vanity. I won't lie in my sarka. This is the truth. I was the first Saiyan to ascend from the lower elite to the upper elite since the class distinction was made. I was the best in my class. I made lieutenant by the age of twelve and commanded my own legion, some of the best Saiyans to ever put on uniforms. Only once did we have to transform to take a planet, and that was because we were at a quarter man-power. The planet Vache, I believe it was.
Don't think that I was in there killing a whole bunch of people. Well, I had to kill some. But the Saiyan Empire did not use the same sort of tactics that the Kold Empire uses. We aren't planet-brokers any more than we are bookworms. We subjected people to our domain. Kill or enlist the warriors, and you can annex a nice little planet into the empire. Food, slaves, resources, expendable troops, scientists… anything a growing empire could need, all in a ready-made civilization.
The Kold Empire was further away at the time. There was no threat. Actually, we were no threat. Simply a minor power, with nothing to offer possible invaders. Or so we thought. If we even did think.
Even if the Saiyan Empire was not noticed, I was. I made my legion famous. We were set up as models for other warriors, and we were having the time of our lives. Imagine, if you will, a boy in his early teens commanding warriors up to five times his own age, and being the most famous and celebrated Saiyan of the time. Do you think anyone would enjoy that kind of life? Do you really? You bet your power level they would! I had achieved success in less than two decades, and I still wasn't at my peak of power or rank. I was only a lieutenant. I had en entire life of supremacy in front of me. When I truly thought things couldn't get better, my legion was adopted as the King's personal honor guard. We only went on the most important missions, not to mention a substantial increase in pay and prestige. I jumped in rank straight from lieutenant to general. Things couldn't get any better!
So they got worse.