Holy crap, I can't believe I'm, submitting this xD;;

Ladies and gentlemen, behold! xDD A crappy sue for yet another fandom. Please forgive me.

I've been obsessing over my old super-sues recently. Like, the ones from when I was 12, and absolutely failed (more than I do now xD). I've been meaning to remake them, and attempt to make them less...uh...awful. Just for fun, as a character exercise. Anyway, I hadn't meant to upload anything with them here, but I got attacked by a plot bunny. Something occured to me, and it was just to lulzy to not write. Then I started, and as usual, it wasn't funny. I just can't do funny, I don;t know why I try xD;

Anyway, it's been forever since I really watched this show, and I just wanted to submit this before it dissappears ( as stuff has been doing), since my computer's been acting up. I apologize if the characterization absolutely fails xD;; maybe I'll watch more episodes (I can't now, I'm on the old computer that's wicked slow and videos absolutely kill it) and fix this. I really should. He's going to end up somewhere between Butler from artemis fowl, and the 'Are we there yet?' guy of the abridged series, I just know it. Ugh xD; I apologize for this again.

DBZ belongs to Akira Toriyama, and DBZ TAS belongs to team four star

"Do you need some time to grieve?"

The falsely sympathetic comment did nothing to tear the Saiyan's attention from the debris floating past their craft. She remained fixed where she had settled after reaching the bridge, her arms folded and tail swishing anxiously as she picked the shreds of their satellites out from the ruins of the planet itself. "No," the young woman answered after a moment's pause, "it's simply a great deal to take in at once." She reigned in a sigh that left as a slow breath, and unhooked the device over her eye from her ear. "We are a warrior-culture, above all else. Grief for the dead, while a noble ideal, does nothing but hinder the living." She inclined her head as her eyes followed the flowing cluster of rock and dust, transfixed. "I was called back here very suddenly, and my mission was left half finished. Should I leave to complete it now?"

She could see the rest of the room from the window's reflection. The Lizard's grin grew unnerving, and he glanced at right and left hand men from the corner of his eye. All three chuckled knowingly. "Don't trouble yourself, Princess. I will send another team to finish readying the planet for sale."

Dark eyebrows furrowed over narrowed dark eyes, and strong hands gripped strong forearms more tightly. "I assure you, lord Freiza, that mission was well within my capabilities. Had I not been instructed to return here at once, I would most certainly have been-"

Another ripple of laughter passed through the lizard and his assorted men. "I assure you, Princess, we are all well aware of your… capabilities."

The Saiyan woman drew in a steady breath, willing the tension from her posture and stance. She recognized the dig, but refused to dignify it with reaction, and held her scouter loosely in one hand, rolling it between her thumb and fingers with an idle motion of her wrist. "Where is my brother?"

"Here, and safe, I assure you," the lizard promised with a nod of his horned head, and a false-smile. "They landed safely moments ago."

The girl turned away from the remnants of her planet, to meet the other's eye. "'They', Lord Freiza?"

"That is what I wished to discuss," the smile grew even more worrisome. "Your race has met a great calamity, and only a handful of you have survived. Of that handful, only one adult male has survived, and you, Princess, are likely the only female of your kind left alive. As a precaution, I've taken you off of active duty indefinitely. If you want to save your now-endangered species, I'd suggest starting immediately."

"I…" She shook her head and inhaled unsteadily. "I'm afraid I don't understand. It was my belief that the only other survivors were my brother, and two low-class children, one an infant on an alien planet."

"Ah, but the Prince was not alone," Frieza corrected with a sinister grin, and the Saiyan royal immediately remembered him to be correct. Though she could not put a name or face to her brother's companion, she did know him to exist. The man was more scenery than anything else, not unlike a mountain; a blur in her memory, filling space beside the heir-apparent.

A rush of air signaled the door's opening, and two sets of footsteps, one considerably heavier than another, clanked along the metal floor as they stepped onto the bridge. The woman whirled around, the long black braid occupying her hair spun with her, landing against her hip. The first, smaller figure was pleasantly familiar, the giant only vaguely so. She could not resist a sigh, and fought to suppress the uneasy feeling suddenly bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

"You, the big fellow with the receding hairline," Freiza greeted brusquely, "come here, I need a word."

*

Nappa and Vegeta were already familiar with the system aboard Freiza's ship: two to one set of cramped quarters; however, occasionally, special arrangements had to be made for members of larger species who could not reasonably fit into the standard issue bed. Nappa had been allowed to disassemble the stacked bunks and push them together to sleep diagonally across it, and the Prince occupied the next room down, alone. Freiza had no time for special cases anymore, and the two additional Saiyans on board were to share with the original pair. To everyone's ire, the sleeping arrangements had been decided for them. The Princess was small, Nappa was told, and would fit nicely in whatever room he left.

This new arrangement was to be tested immediately; suspended animation was anything but restful, and all but Raditz had only arrived here today, after about a month in the attack ball. Some genuine sleep was necessary, and the Princess, unaccustomed to the ship's layout, followed Nappa silently as they all filed towards their rooms.

The small prince would occasionally glance over his shoulder at the older Saiyan, wearing the same crest on her armor, but said nothing. It had been two years, the General supposed, since the siblings had met. Truth be told, he'd never really seen them together. Almost immediately after being assigned Prince Vegeta's personal bodyguard and trainer, he had been claimed by Freiza and removed from his home planet.

Initially, the three year old boy had spoken fondly about his Father, and occasionally, his sister; however, as he grew, and the hissed comments about his family began to have some meaning, his talkative nature faded. His admiration of his father faded to a solemn respect, and his sister was forgotten entirely.

For the past six years, Nappa had worked closely with the King, and had spent a fair bit of time around the royals' Spartan residence, and had heard more than his share of gossip, most of it bordering on treason. As a result, he knew a considerably amount about the girl the royal family was so desperate to sweep under the figurative rug– less than some, but more than most.

She was ten years his junior, and Nappa could still remember the surge of national pride that had swept their people when it was discovered that their Queen was with child, and though there had been no mention of a problem, when the birth of Princess Tomta was announced officially, it had been terribly clear to any citizen with two brain cells to knock together that something was terribly wrong.

This was not the traditional name of a first-born royal. The name Vegeta, or the female alternative Vegetea, had been passed down through their line for generations, long before King Vegeta had united the tribes against the Tuffles, and there was only one reason to forgo it. Vegeta and his Queen were keeping it in reserve, fully intending to try for a second child, deserving of the title. Nothing was ever said, but everyone knew the terrible truth: the Princess had been born weak.

As she grew, she did little to prove the initial assessments wrong. By far, the most frustrating aspect of Tomta's disgrace was the girl's potential. She quickly proved to be a credit to her family, but not in the one way that truly counted. While wonderfully intelligent, eager to please, hardworking and completely fearless, the child's power level grew at a glacial pace, and she fought and clawed for every degree.

After seven years of no great improvement and no other heir, it was decided that she would never be fit to rule. The most beneficial thing she could ever hope do for her people was to bear strong children with a stronger man, in hopes that one of them would be ready to take the throne from her father when the time came.

Nappa had known the boy selected. Though six years younger, the particular second-class orphan had been blessed with an exceptional power level, and so roomed in barracks, and attended training sessions with much older warriors. The boy, Leik, had simply disappeared, having been pulled from all classes and amateur assignment to train exclusively with the Princess. He served as her sparring partner, her protector, and most importantly, her betrothed.

The rumours had begun immediately and grew as she did, suspicious elites and third-classes alike speculating on every fact manufactured, or smuggled from the palace by a tattling guard or nurse. Deformed, crippled, too sickly to fight, the people whispered as a shadow of doubt swept over their disappointment. King Vegeta could never have fathered something so weak; the girl had no claim to the throne. Some braver, or in his mind, more foolish traitors went further. The Queen was an unfaithful whore, they insisted. The girl was a bastard, with no claim to the throne. King Vegeta could never father something so pitiful.

Nappa loved traitors. He especially enjoyed the delightful crunching noise they made under his boot.

The General knew better than to pay hearsay any heed. Again, he knew more than most, and was privy to the root of her disgrace. The boy was powerful, but had no head for strategy and found himself with little chance of promotion. This was especially true when his mediocre record was taken into consideration. The odd second class mission appeared on his file, but as the Princess' constant companion, third class missions were by far the norm. A first class mission was simply too much; while child's play for him, Leik could not be entrusted with Lady Tomta's safety on an assignment of that difficulty. Nappa, however, had been free to prove himself in the harshest of conditions, and had flown through the ranks, eventually finding himself the future Prince-Consort's commanding officer. Leik had been required to report back to him, in great detail.

A Saiyan's power level grows rapidly compared to most other species because of one particular trait. Any heavily damaged tissue, when given the opportunity to recover, will heal to be far stronger than it had been previously. From what he, and every perplexed medical officer on the planet could gather, this was not Tomta's case.

The Princess was blessed with an incredible capacity for determination (or perhaps outright stubbornness) that would have served any other Saiyan well. A surprising percentage of her training sessions ended in a recovery chamber, always at the hands of a reluctant and guilt wracked Leik; however, the recovery, even from being beaten to within an inch of her life, showed no increase in her power level. If anything, the time recovery took from training reduced it slightly.

Admitting that their heir presumptive was defective was worse than admitting her weak, and so the rumours continued unchecked. By all accounts, her power level was dismal, but varied greatly from source to source. Some claimed several hundred, while the more generous gossip placed it at three thousand. Nappa knew it to be somewhere in the vicinity of twenty five hundred, and hadn't increased notably since she was about fifteen– the year Prince Vegeta had been born and she had ceased to be of any consequence.

Lost in thought, he came to a halt, absentmindedly, after inadvertently striding past his door. Prince Vegeta and the third class boy– Raditz if he wasn't mistaken– lingered a few feet back before their own quarters. Perhaps it was a guilty conscience, but as the General stepped back to allow the Princess into his room, he could have sworn that her brother shot him a glare that would have stripped the armour from an attack ball.

So there's my plot bunny xD;; If a female Saiyan were to survive, the species' only hope would have been Nappa xD;;; Why do I find that hilarious?

As I'm sure you've gathered, Tomta and Leik are puns on Tomato and Leek respectively. I thought it fitting to name her after a fruit (rather than a vegetable like everyone else, 'cept the pumpkin guy from the movie) because she's something of a freak xD;;

Again, please forgive me. This is probably just a lapse in my judgement cause by exam-stress and lack of sleep xD;; I will regret posting this tomorrow, yes I will.

Night all~! I'm off to bed.