A/N: First things first - you do not have to have read/intend to read the rest of the books in this series to understand Distance From Fate. It's technically a prequel, but can be digested as a stand-alone AU if you want.

However, for those of you who are familiar with the series or may want to have a look at it eventually: this book is meant to be read AFTER A Drop of Royal Blood, though seeing as right now ADARB is finished and this one is not it isn't a big deal. Just know that some plot devices in book one will be spoiled for you if you go ahead with DFF.

Anyways, I wrote this partially to clear up questions I'm sure some readers have about the unique circumstances in ADARB, but also because writing about aliens and space adventure is fun. Oh, and there's gonna be some VegeBul too.

The first chapter is partially verbatim of the TV special 'Bardock - The Father of Goku,' with some slight tweaks before it diverges from the canon sequence of events.

The overturned ground gave off a distinct earthy scent, but tossed with it into the wind was the smell of blood. To Bardock and his companions, it was a familiar aroma.

Bardock was the leader of his squadron, but he had no qualms with lazing about in front of them after their successful devastation of Kanassa in just a few nights. They'd wiped out any opposing forces in record time, and the rest was well-deserved. Being in ape form, as thrilling as it was, became exhausting afterwards. On top of that, the Kanassans were smarter and tougher than they'd looked.

That's why the job had been taken by Saiyans, after all.

Bardock stared up at the dull blue sky. Any lingering clouds of smoke nearby had cleared enough that the view wasn't obstructed, which he couldn't say that he minded. Any sky, red or not, was good enough for him.

"Hey, Bard."

He looked over at the person who'd spoken, the only one who'd use that nickname.

"Do you remember what day your son was born?" Tora continued after catching his leader's attention. Bardock hadn't really been listening to the conversation prior to the question at all.

"Nah. But that was a long time ago," he replied casually, readjusting his position so that he was looking back at the sky, his hands resting clasped behind his head like a pillow.

"No it wasn't," Fasha interjected, smiling. "It was yesterday. Oughtn't you go visit the little guy? We have a bit of time before our next assignment."

Had he not been so exhausted, Bardock might have smirked a little. Trust his long-time friends to recall more about Bardock's life than he did. However, as close as everyone in the squadron was, they maintained a level of respect when still on the battlefield. Even Tora, the sole member of the team allowed a little more freedom in that aspect, would drop the question whatever the answer (or lack of one) was.

"Visit him? Heh, that'd be nice," Bardock answered dryly. "But there's no point. He's just going to be sent away." Though he didn't know exactly when – even if the infant didn't wind up scheduled to be shipped off until it was past its toddler years, it was only logical for him to avoid the extra complexity that bonding with the baby would make.

"Hmph. Bardock, you're too much," Fasha finished.

Bardock just shrugged. Third-class as he and the mother were, it was just the way life was. Or course, he'd encountered Raditz a few times over the years – he'd miraculously gotten assigned with the king's oldest little brat now – but it hadn't meant much at that point. He'd become just like any other Saiyan. It would be the same with the newborn (if it survived, that was).

Even if raising children was a privilege reserved for elites, he would make the most of what he did have, instead of dwelling on what he couldn't. Even if he couldn't see Gine very often, a deeper relationship like theirs was a rarity in itself, so Bardock never complained.

He rolled up from his reclining position, lying on the solid rock having done nothing to help soothe his tired muscles. His squadron had moved on to some other topic and they chattered languidly amongst themselves.

"What was Frieza thinking, wanting this planet?" asked Shugesh. Fasha stayed quiet and Borgos was busying himself chewing on dried meat, so Bardock opted to reply.

"Dunno. I think this planet was supposed to have special energy, or something," he said.

"Yeah, right. I heard that too. Apparently, you're supposed to get psychic powers or whatever – the ability to read minds or see the future," Tora mocked.

"Frieza, that prick. Of course he'd want the power to read minds," Shugesh said.

Bardock was about to reply when a loud crash sounded from behind him. Battle senses at the ready, he and his crew whipped their attention around to investigate the noise.

"If only you could read minds," an unfamiliar voice lamented, "so you could've heard the thoughts of my people as you slaughtered them!"

There, standing before the Saiyans, was a surviving Kanassan. It looked a little worse for wear, but Bardock didn't have time to analyze anything else as the creature began charging at him.

Bardock leapt to his feet, ready to meet his opponent head-on, but suddenly the Kanassan make a surprise flip, darting over Bardock's head so he was behind him.

Too late to dodge, Bardock was struck viciously at the base of his neck and a flood of numbness went through him, and he fell to the ground a moment after.

His ears ringing, he fought to get back to his feet, but his body wouldn't obey him. He could hear his comrades coming to his rescue, but by the time Bardock got up to a kneeling position – still seeing double – Tora had blasted the Kanassan warrior in the chest.

However, instead of acting wounded, the creature began glowing blue, wreathed in an azure, flame-like energy.

"You will all die!" it said. Its eyes were little more than glowing orbs now, but Bardock could've sworn the thing was looking right at him.

"We'll see about that," the Saiyan retorted, finally getting to his feet. He raised a fist to strike, but the thing's voice interrupted.

"Wait!" it said.

Bardock halted his movement.

"You came here seeking psychic powers..." it began. "And so I have given it to you... Bardock."

So they really can read minds, Bardock thought, and the being responded to the thought like it'd been spoken words.

"You now have this ability too, Saiyan."

"Me? What is this..." Bardock muttered as the Kanassan continued.

"Frieza, though he seeks it, will never gain this ability. But you, I have given it to you. It was a gift, Bardock, so that you could see..."

"... See what?" Bardock demanded.

"The horror that looms over you, just as we had to!" the creature cackled. The awful sound continued until Bardock could take no more.

"Shut up!" he shouted, hurling a burning sphere of ki at it.

The attack struck the Kanassan, and this time, the alien reacted as it should – it dissolved into flecks of ash, its remains decorating the air for a moment before fluttering to the ground.

There were several seconds of quiet as the tension left the air.

"Yikes. You never know what's hiding under a rock these days. What a freak," Shugesh commented, stepping forward to Bardock's side.

However, Bardock almost didn't notice. Again, he felt vertigo swimming through his mind and body, and his friend Tora's words were a muffled blur as Bardock's legs gave out and the ground came up to meet him, his vision going dark.

The young Prince Vegeta let out a huff of satisfaction at the wasted Saibamen before him, gloating over how simple it was to defeat the bulbous animals.

Every time it was easier and easier, no matter what hordes of them he faced. They were nothing but pests, even if they were almost twice the boy's size their attempts at putting so much as a scratch on him were pathetic.

Vegeta didn't even have to dust himself off before he barked an impatient command into the air.

"I'm done. Hurry up and open the door!" he demanded, his voice holding authority despite the high, childish pitch.

He was heading for the exit before it had even begun to open, the attendant at the controls was apologizing profusely for his tardiness.

As soon as Vegeta left the training room he caught sight of his caretaker (for lack of a better word), who'd been awaiting him outside. The hulking Saiyan man was hard to miss from any distance.

"As always, Prince, your skills are unparalleled," Nappa complimented.

The boy's round features etch themselves into a frown. On any other child of his age, the pouty scowl would've been endearing.

"Quit your ass-kissing, Nappa," Vegeta snapped, continuing his march towards the next exit. Nappa followed the prince out as they moved into the hall.

A short walk later, the two found themselves on the moving floor belt, which the large station was outfitted with to prevent extra walking, which there was already enough of to get around.

The Saiyan prince, who didn't even come up as tall as Nappa's leg, was tapping his own in impatience or frustration, a habit picked up from the adults he was constantly around.

"This place is boring," Vegeta said. "Enough of these drills. I want a real combat assignment."

Nappa understood the prince well enough to know that the boy was musing to himself, and not asking for the bigger Saiyan's opinion.

"Hmph... Frieza. One day soon, we won't have to take orders from him ever again. You watch," the prince spoke again, loudly enough for Nappa to hear.

"You think so?" the man replied.

The little boy gave his customary smirk – a mannerism that had always been his own as long as Nappa had known him. "I know so."

"Heh, really? That'd be great," Nappa said, humouring the prince.

As powerful as the boy was and would continue to grow – and his temper growing with it – he was still a child, as much as he tried not to be. But the evidence of his true age still showed through sometimes, and Nappa let that small part of the prince remain as long as it would.

"Lord Frieza," Zarbon said, "Planet Kanassa was overtaken, as of last night."

"Oh?" Frieza prompted, the end of his tail flicking in interest though his expression and tone remain neutral.

He sat in his hover pod, relaxed but for the wheels turning in his mind as Zarbon spoke.

"Yes, sire. Every Kanassan was eliminated and the cities destroyed. It's all yours."

"Kanassa?" Dodoria blurted. "That job's been in the pool for months! I thought we'd have to take care of that one ourselves."

"No, a group of Saiyans took it," Zarbon replied.

"Saiyans, huh?" Frieza muttered, his lips barely forming the words. His lieutenants took no notice and kept their own conversation going.

"Their elite teams are becoming as strong as our own," Dodoria's rough voice commented.

"Actually, that group in particular were low-level soldiers," Zarbon corrected.

"Pfft. No low-levels could handle Kanassa. These guys are different. The Saiyans are quickly becoming our best fighters, am I right?"

"Yes, Dodoria. Without a doubt, they're much stronger now. With the full moon on their side, even a small group is hard to beat."

"Heh. What, you scared of them, Zarbon?"

"No, certainly not. I'm just saying we should keep an eye on them, that's all. Like this 'Bardock' – the leader of the Saiyan group that led the Kanassan assault... What if he teamed up with young Vegeta and a few other good fighters? How would you like to take on that at a full moon, Dodoria?"

Frieza's chuckle broke into the conversation.

"I don't know who would knowingly welcome that kind of scenario," the commander said.

Zarbon, nonplussed at his leader's offhand comment, gave a plain reply. "Yes, sire."

Just then, the dynamic in the room was broken as the door behind them slid open, allowing a young Saiyan boy with a flame-like head of hair to enter the room.

"Prince Vegeta," Zarbon said, his surprise becoming irritation as he blocked the prince's path. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Frieza didn't send for you, kid. You know nobody sees Lord Frieza unless he calls them first," Dodoria followed up, also moving to bar the child's way. Under any other circumstances, the intruder would be facing more than the mere scolding Vegeta was being subjected to.

"Look – I'm bored," the young prince began, clearly enough for Frieza to hear even though Vegeta couldn't see him over the back of the pod. "I want a real assignment."

"Hmph. Who do you think you are? I ought to teach you some manners, prince," Zarbon threatened, staring the boy down.

"Give him an assignment, Zarbon," Frieza's voice interrupted, causing both the green haired man and his pink companion to pause. "Immediately."

Vegeta's lips parted in surprise at how quickly his request had been met, but he regained his composure as he studied Zarbon's startled reaction.

"Lord Frieza!" the braided alien said, aghast at the acceptance of the boy's rude behaviour.

"The boy meant no harm, Zarbon," Frieza purred in a way that made the room's other occupants distinctly uncomfortable. "He simply hasn't learned how to control his passion. Give him the hardest assignment that you have."

"And Vegeta... Do come back alive," Frieza finished, his attention focused upon the young prince even though neither of them had moved places.

"I will, sire. Thank you very much," Vegeta conveyed, placing a hand over his armour-clad chest and giving a rather mature bow for his age. He was pleased it'd been so simple to convince Frieza, and figured that the formal gratitude was the right thing to do. Everyone bowed to Frieza, little boy or not.

Frieza gave a low chuckle. "You don't have to thank me, Vegeta. You certainly earn your keep around here. You might want to learn to mind your manners a little better next time, though."

Though the chastisement was a lot gentler than Vegeta was used to – from the leader of the PTO himself, no less – the prince had spoken personally to Frieza only a few times before, and could make no conclusions about it.

"Sire," Vegeta acknowledged. Frieza laughed again softly – at what, only he himself knew.

The medical facility was quiet, thanks to the decrease in traffic and the temporary cessation of the day-old infant's screaming.

The baby, having exhausted himself crying thus far lay drowsily, his mop of wild black hair sticking out in all directions as he lay naked in the natal pod. However, the technology was specially conditioned to suit his needs, so he was comfortably warm, his soft tail coiled around his ankle. Despite this, his fits were on and off, the attendants long since having given up on figuring out why.

The child in the next pod was restless. He was silent, but shifted uneasily in place, expression disquieted. He'd been unable to sleep, thanks to the other baby's crying, and his own earlier tears had had no success in getting the aggravating sound to stop. Even in the short-lived stillness, he had no peace, his ears still ringing.

When the crying resumed, the second infant's ki – at an abnormal level for a newborn – fluctuated with his souring mood, his tail flicking apprehensively.

Elsewhere in the same facility, the darkness of Bardock's mind was invaded by the sound of the first baby's cries.

Half conscious as he was, in a healing pod of his own, the noise pierced his awareness and somehow, it was familiar.

It was his son.

There was a vision in Bardock's mind, one strong image pulsing like a warning beacon. It had been persistent, and only seemed to grow more clear as the baby cried louder.

A planet in flames. Planet... Planet Vegeta?

The screams of its inhabitants as their bodies turned to ash as the world cracked and burned, exploding in a hideous flash of light.

Frieza. Frieza, laughing.

Somehow, Bardock knew, the baby could see this too. He didn't know how, or why, but in his barely cognisant state, it was one of the few things he understood to be true.

And then, there was a voice.

Perhaps it was the Kanassan's, but perhaps it was not. Bardock was aware of little but his son's tears and the words that echoed all around them.

You are powerless to stop the universe that has been set in motion, Saiyan, but you may be able to direct its course. There are two rivers that diverge from this place.

You have a choice to make.

No matter what you do, there will be sacrifice. Life, or freedom. If you let things go their natural course, a great darkness will be cast upon your people. Vengeance will be claimed, but it will be heralded by only one, the heart of the Saiyans forever lost into the mists of time.

Should you choose to fight for another future, the darkness will remain only a shadow for years longer, but you will endure them understanding what you've done. The flow of time corrupted, your visions will remain, but you will find no comfort in knowing what is to come.

Choose wisely. It may be that you can only forestall the inevitable.

With the words came the pain, an indescribable pressure in Bardock's temples that made him feel like his head was splitting in two. Something was very wrong.

He was being pulled in opposite directions – one image being ripped in half where it wasn't meant to be. His mind, trying to right itself, only made the sensation worse. The pictures in Bardock's head began to change, warping themselves to fit. There was no rhyme or reason to the order in which he saw them.

A young man with strange hair and blue eyes, standing before Frieza – but in two different places, the pictures blurred over each other, struggling to bind together but only causing fractures in them both. Another man, who looked very much like Bardock himself, in the same predicament.

The same man, but now his hair was flashing golden and his eyes teal, also in two different settings. The pictures were fighting for the same place, flickering between one another in rapid succession, like a tumbling die.

And there, still, the image of Bardock's home world igniting.

Bardock felt a pressure on his chest, restricting his ability to breathe how he so desperately needed to. There wasn't enough air supply – something slowing down his muscles' reaction time – he didn't know which way was up or down. His son's cries were the only solid thing he could cling to.

It was then that he broke from his reverie, realizing he was in a healing tank, surrounded by silence.