Months passed by in a blur, my life largely unchanged after a visit from the royal family. My tank steadily darkened to a deep red was the only method of measuring the time. My life was largely unchanged, not counting that I became increasingly aware of knowledge appearing in my brain at random. That and the sense of foreboding that filled me with each passing day, knowing that my time in the gestation tank was nearing its end-
I woke with a start, returning to consciousness with a jerk, as my eyes snapped open to see bubbles from the bottom of my tank washed over me.
"-draining now," a voice announced next to me and only then did I become aware of the two men standing next to my tank. I hardly had time to get a good look at them because, true to his word, the tank began draining not a moment later. The goop drifted down rapidly, going into the bottom half beneath my tank, and before sleep had cleared from my brain I sat at the bottom of the tank free of the goop for the first time in what must be years.
My mask hooked free before I hit the bottom, leaving me tenderly touching my face in confusion. I was with it for so long that it felt odd to be without it now. The bottom half remained, weighing me down, but the hose disconnected. I was free. Well, I was when the thick glass began sliding upwards until I was truly free of the tank.
"He's not crying. That's a promising sign," A woman's voice noted, prompting me to look up at her. It was impossible to tell a saiyans age after they hit twenty until they exited their prime, so she was somewhere in that range. Much like every saiyan, she had a strong jaw that lead to a stubborn chin, black eyes, high cheekbones, and her hair defied gravity. Short up top and on the sides that collected into a dozen or so spikes that swooped back, all except for a cowlick that drifted in front of her eyes.
"I suppose," King Vegeta allowed, seemingly unimpressed. A small smirk found its way onto her face, a mischievous glint in her eyes clear for all to see.
"He's doing better than Vegeta. I've never heard a baby cry so much right out the tan-"
"I did not cry!" Vegeta snapped, announcing his presence. He stood in front of the royal couple, a king and his queen, and glared with all his might up at his mother. "Saiyans don't cry!"
"Oh? So you remember coming out of the pod?"
"Yes!"
"You wouldn't be lying right now, are you?"
"N-no…"
"Hmmmmmmm." Oddly enough, I don't think Queen...Teach believed him. And I had some trouble believing that Vegeta might be a momma's boy. "Well, I must be remembering things differently then. Because I nearly threw you back into the thing you were making so much noise."
She reached out faster than I could blink and ruffled Vegeta's hair so hard that I was honestly shocked that he wasn't left bald by the time she was done. Once she finished tormenting her son, she walked over with utter confidence that I barely had time to admire before she crossed the room.
"What's his power level again?" She asked, leaning over so she could look me in the eyes. Not know what else to do, I stared right back as I leaned away because she had no concept of personal space. It didn't really change anything since she just leaned closer.
"16, my queen."
"Ah, a little weakling then," she observed, lashing out with a hand and pinching my cheek. I grabbed her hand, trying to pull myself out of her grip, only to fail since it was like iron. She let out a huff of amusement at my feeble attempts to escape.
"Let go!" I whined, and, just like that, she did. Without her holding me in place, I nearly threw myself off the tank. Quick reflexes on my part saved me from falling, probably saving my life in the process. Rubbing pain out of my cheek, I glare up at the woman to see that her eyebrows would be disappearing into her hairline if they rose any higher.
"You can talk already?" She questioned, sounding shocked. Why...ah. Right. I'm a toddler. Kinda forgot about that.
Looking back at her cautiously, my mind raced and I quickly came to the conclusion that acting like I hadn't spoken was pointless. Might as well double down. "Yes?" I tried, not needing to fake the hesitancy in my voice.
"Huh," Queen Teach muttered, frowning in thought as she leaned back. "Well, that was fast."
"I did say his brain was rather developed, but I will admit that I didn't expect this," Thyme pitched in from his position at the console, likely going over some last-minute readings or something. He paused what he was doing to give me a soul-searching stare that I stubbornly refused to meet. "I noticed that he absorbed knowledge quite quickly, but to process it...hm."
"Well, since I don't think being a warrior is going to work out for you-" Her lips twitched as I gave her the dullest stare I could muster. "There's always the working-class. We don't-"
King Vegeta stepped forward, making Queen Teach pause, "He will be a warrior. Or nothing." He declared, looking down me. Despite his harsh words, it was easy to see that he wasn't...displeased. He looked like the kind of macho guy that wouldn't know what happiness looked like if it hit him, but he didn't seem particularly unhappy. So, I had that going for me.
Though, the working-class sounded a lot better to me. It was made up of the saiyans that were strong enough to avoid an infiltration mission, but by the time they reach ten years of age weren't strong enough to become a warrior. They were further divided into three classes: Scientists, Caretakers, and Mechanics. The first figured out how alien tech we picked up on missions worked, the second took care of domestic problems and food production while the last built and fixed-
"Then he's going to be a little corpse," Queen Teach dismissed. "He's a trash tier weakling. Putting him against saibamen, ah, well, I have things to do today. Just clean up the mess when you're done, 'Kay?" She requested, pinching my cheek again, only this time I was too stunned to try to stop her.
I mean...she probably wasn't wrong, but...wow. That was...blunt. I was too stunned to get mad, leaving me staring up at her as she gave me a smile that could be mistaken for kind.
"I'll have a servant take care of it," King Vegeta agreed with a nod.
"A true shame. I suppose it was too much to hope that a prince could join the Scientists." Thyme pitched, earning a dull stare from me, my cheek stretching painfully. He returned it with an unrepentant shrug before turning his attention back to the graphs. Slowly, I looked back to Queen Teach, noting that her amused look reminded me of a cat's when toying with a cornered mouse.
"The testing ground and saibamen are being prepped. Thyme, dress Tarble and bring him there," King Vegeta commanded with the ease of someone used to being obeyed. With a dramatic turn, his red cape fluttered out, he turned to leave the chamber, a hand guiding Vegeta forward. Neither of them looked back.
"As you command, my king," Thyme said, bowing at King Vegeta's back.
"I'll head out too, I suppose." Queen Teach stated, letting go of my cheek, a huff escaping her when I tried to rub away the pain. Her hand blurred, I only realized that it had moved when I felt her poke me in the cheek. I tried to swat her hand away, just for it to move out of the way and poke my other cheek. "Heh, I guess Veg was right, you do have some fight in you. Maybe I will stick around for your test. Good luck! You'll need it."
With that, she turned on her heel and started walking away, her tail swishing back and forth as she whistled a tune. When the doors slid closed behind her, she sent me a cheeky grin through the crack before vanishing from sight. I stared at the door for a long moment, a sinking realization settled in.
Saibamen were a plant species native to a planet long since forgotten by time. Mostly because no saiyan bothered to remember the name after we sold it. They were often used for training of young saiyans. Their power level ranged from about 500 - 1000+. Mine was 16. Best case scenario, I'm fighting something roughly 30 times stronger than me. All things considered, I had my doubts I would be experiencing that best-case scenario. No, my bet was that I was going to be experiencing a lot of pain as I die. Horribly.
"No time for dallying little one! Up, up, up!" Thyme urged, grabbing a blue outfit from somewhere and throwing it in my direction. I caught it, inspecting the stretchy material that reminded me of spandex. It was a royal blue one-piece that looked like it was a size too small. It was going to be a tight fit.
Shrugging off my discomfort, I stood up for the first time in years. My legs were a little wobbly, but I managed to stand upright easy enough. The metal diaper wrapped around my lower half slid off with some effort. Once it was off, I was proven right that the one-piece being a tight fit. It clung to me, the sleeves stopping mid-shoulder while the legs stopped mid-thigh. It didn't restrict my movement, thankfully. With that done, I hopped off my tank, landing on my feet, and looked up at Thyme to see him giving a measuring look.
Right. Toddler. Spent three years in a tank. I'm really bad at this.
"Hm. A low maintenance toddler. Interesting…" Thyme muttered to himself, hastily scribbling a note that I couldn't read before stepping towards me. "Let's not keep your parents waiting! This way!" He yelled, marching towards the door with exaggerated cheer. Or maybe it wasn't. Thyme struck me as the kind of guy that went his own pace.
I watched him walk away for a moment, unable to shake off a disturbing thought. I...was probably about to die. I was about to be put into a life or death struggle against a creature so much stronger than me it might as well be a god. My hope for victory was...nonexistent. Queen Teach might have been a little blunt about it, but she wasn't wrong. I might as well be a corpse with a heartbeat.
Yet, my heart steadily beat in my chest instead of slamming away at my ribs like it was trying to escape. My breathing was even, not so much as a drop of nervous sweat...I was calm. Way, way, way too calm for someone walking towards their death.
I always hoped I would greet Death with grace, but I knew myself well enough to know that I wouldn't. At least I thought I did. I guess not all surprises were bad?
"What are you waiting for? Come along," Thyme chided, opening the door. My feet moved of their own will, carrying me towards him with a gait filled with confidence that I didn't feel. I followed him through the door, taking in my new surroundings as we walked. It was a generic-looking hallway, nothing special about it other than the fact it wasn't the four walls that I've been staring at for years. We didn't walk past a single soul as we traveled from hallway to hallway, cutting through rooms, doubling back to the room we just left-
"Um," I spoke up, eyeing a sign that we passed at least three times. "Are...we lost?"
Thyme didn't answer, choosing to ignore me as he took a right down the hallway, only to second guess himself a split second later and went left. I didn't follow, recognizing that we just came from that hallway a minute ago. It took him until the end of the hallway to realize I wasn't right behind him. "Tarble! What are you doing?"
"Are we lost?" I repeated, cocking my head when a low flush raised to his cheeks. Yeah, we were lost.
"No," Thyme lied through his teeth, looking anywhere but at me. "We're just, ah, taking a scenic route. Figured you could use the practice moving about," he nodded to himself, looking very pleased with his own bullshit.
I stared at him, his eyes drifted to mine only to dart away. I continued to stare, and again his gaze briefly met mine before quickly looking away. I kept staring at him, the third time his gaze met mine his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"We're lost. I never used the training room much, I'm a Caretaker! I need to walk a path at least ten times before I remember how to get there!" He defended himself, grimacing slightly when he remembered that I was a toddler. His cheeks turned bright pink as he walked back towards me, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
Ignoring his excuses, I looked for a clue on where we were. I found one -- a number and a squiggle that I recognized as a letter. Right. I knew the saiyan language. Weird. It said 3-D.
"Do you know where the training ground is?" I asked, earning a small nod and a narrow-eyed look from Thyme.
"5-A! I've never been there in my life! Royal training area only," he explained, trying to salvage his dignity. I didn't make it easy for him with a bewildered look. We weren't even on the right floor. He coughed into his hand, looking away again and a sigh escaped me.
"Just...follow me," I grumbled, recalling a stairway some turns away. This time, Thyme followed me obediently. We walked up a few sets of stairs, stumbled our way through more unfamiliar hallways until-
My thoughts were interrupted when I walked right into a solid wall that came out of nowhere hard enough I stumbled back. Blinking in surprise, I saw that the wall was a person. Vegeta. He looked down at me with a sneer -- it might have just been the angle, but I'm pretty sure he was tilting his head back to look down at me more -- with his arms crossed. He really was the spitting image of King Vegeta.
"You kept us waiting. Heh. Father and I thought you might have run away with your tail tucked between your legs," Vegeta stated, smugness radiating out of every pore while arrogance practically dripped from his words. My eyes narrowed reflexively, sudden anger burning in my chest as my hands curled into fists.
Vegeta just smirked, while Thyme hastily offered an explanation. "My apologies, my prince! It took some time to get him ready." He blurted, pointedly ignoring my stunned look. Really? Really?
"It doesn't matter. Father and Mother are waiting," Vegeta informed, dramatically turning on his heel much like King Vegeta did earlier, effectively cutting off my chance to call Thyme on his lies. He nudged me forward, getting me to move forward as Vegeta lead us through a set of bulkhead doors.
Inside was a large room with dull metal walls and dull tiled metal floors. King Vegeta and Queen Teach stood in the center, the latter looking like she was trying to goad the former into doing something with her lips pulled into a cheeky grin. King Vegeta was quick to break away when we entered, an embarrassed expression on his face.
"Tarble, this will be your room," King Vegeta informed, gesturing to the dull room lacking in a bed or anything most people would associate with a room. "And these will be your training partners," he continued, gesturing to another door that slides open on cue. Three creatures stepped through, herded by another saiyan. They looked around hesitantly, as if they expected a blow to land at any moment, then their eyes settled on me.
They had a dark green segmented torso covered in armor-like plates, leaving their lighter green skin bare, revealing dozens of black rings marked their arms and legs. Their claws were tipped with three razor-sharp points, the same for their feet. They looked evil with dark red eyes, elongated heads, and dark veins standing out on their lighter skin.
"Take this scouter," King Vegeta said, tossing an earpiece with a plane of plastic jutting out of it. I caught it with the minimum amount of fumbling. "It is...a gift from Frieza. I trust you know who that is?" He asked, earning a hesitant nod from me.
Lord Frieza, the new overlord of the Cold Force, now known as the Frieza Force, with the retirement of King Cold. A few years ago, roughly around the time I was put in the gestation tank, he inherited ownership of the saiyan race. In the first meeting, he murdered four saiyans and humiliated King Vegeta. That more or less set the tone for our relationship.
"Good. These scouters are an invaluable resource that can quantify an opponent's power level. Use it on the saibamen," King Vegeta ordered. I put the scouter on, it stuck around my ear before pressing the power button. Immediately, lines of text covered the screen, highlighting the four figures before me.
750, 1,200, 1,800, 4,300. The first three belonged to the saibamen, while the least belonged to a large saiyan, who leaned against a wall with his arms crossed. He smirked when he saw my expression over his power level.
"Your goal is to kill them," King Vegeta informed, getting a dumbfounded stare from me. I knew it was coming. I came here expecting exactly this, and yet it still caught me off guard. It wasn't just one. I couldn't even hope to beat one saibaman, but three of them? Each stronger than the last? "You have one year to complete this task. Should you fail, you will be banished from planet Vegeta."
Oh. They didn't expect me to kill all three of them right now? That was...well, I would say it made my odds better but they were still nonexistent.
Queen Teach let out a huff, rolling her eyes so hard they could have fallen out of her head. "Butttttt, if you do manage it, somehow, then you'll be well on your way to becoming mid-class. Gotta admit, can't say I envy you, little guy. Not everyone is as talented as little Veg," she commented, laughing at the sound of Vegeta's grinding teeth.
"You should be able to do this much," Vegeta bit out, shooting a glare at his mother. "They're the scraps left over from my training for growing too weak." He...reassured? It was kinda hard to tell what he was going for there. He sent a small nod in my direction as if telling me that he fully expected me to just walk over and murder those monsters dead. He was delusional, but I couldn't say it wasn't nice to have at least someone believing in me. Especially when I didn't believe in myself.
13,000, 10,200, 9,030. King Vegeta, Vegeta with Queen Teach bringing up the rear. They were monstrously strong. Beyond comprehension. Killing three saibamen would be a simple task for them. For me, it was asking the impossible. The weakest one was nearly 50 times stronger than me. There was holding out hope in spite of all odds, then there was insanity.
"Okay," I said with a nod, my fears feeling so very distant while my heart began to beat faster out of anticipation instead of fear. My mind and my body were at odds, logic telling me I might as well offer up my neck to get things over with while my body hummed with excitement.
"Good," King Vegeta commended with a smirk. "Food will be delivered when you need it. A healing tank is through that door," he explained, gesturing to the door the saibamen came out of. "They have been instructed not to kill you, but don't test your luck."
Then he stared at me for a long second, seeming to weigh his words before speaking them. He came to a decision a second later. "This is your first challenge to overcome to be deemed worthy of being my son. I will not accept a low-class child, nor a mid-class. If you want to assume your rightful place, then you must rise to the elite-class."
He was asking for the impossible. Something more impossible than the thing he just asked for a minute ago. The only two elite-class saiyans were standing in this room, to raise my pl to over 10,000...I would die long before I came close. It had never been done before, a low-class becoming elite-class. It was almost unheard of for low-class to climb to mid-class.
He fell silent after that explanation, and I felt the weight of his expectations of me. Right alongside the sheer absurdity of his demand to be acknowledged as his son, not to mention how the odds were stacked against me to past this first test.
There was no point in complaining about it, was there? They wouldn't listen and I was too weak to make them. All I could do was…
I strode forward, my hands clenched into fists, my gaze unwavering from the weakest saibaman. It stepped forward, making a series of clicks at its brothers that made them stand back.
Its beady red eyes darted to King Vegeta, then to Vegeta, before settling back on me, probably reminded itself of the consequences of accidentally killing me. Once we reached the center of the room, against all sense of reason, I made the first move. I darted forward with surprising speed, lashing out with a fi-
Something slammed into me hard enough that I slid across the ground and didn't stop until I hit the wall, knocking the breath from me. I kept my eyes open, letting me see what hit me. A wild slash with its right arm that caught me in my unprotected ribs. The pain burned, almost enough to keep me down. Taking the chance when the saibaman glanced again at King Vegeta, as if making sure what it did was okay, I pushed myself back to my feet.
Swaying dangerously, I found my balance thanks to my tail and started walking forward again, nothing driving me other than instinct. Instincts to fight and keep fighting until I won or died.
Despite knowing how dangerous his limbs were, my gaze never wavered from the center of its chest, letting my peripheral vision to keep track of its attacks. Each step was a sharp stab of pain where it hit me, the pain went ignored as I lurched forward, only to pull myself back. The saibaman fell for the feint, attacking with a claw. It blurred towards me, impossibly fast, but I saw it this time. Having expected it, my arm protected my injured side, absorbing-
Even though I was braced for it this time, I still slid across the floor. I stayed on my feet, my arm throbbing with pain where it wasn't numb entirely. Again, it checked with King Vegeta to make sure that it wasn't going to be killed. My breathing became ragged, sweat already building on my brow that dropped into my eyes, unblinking even as they stung.
I had to check to see if my hand was still curled into a fist, the entire left side of me numb. At the very least, it helped with the worsening pain in my ribs. I took the time it gave me to control my breathing, taking deep and even breaths in spite of how much they hurt. When it did turn its attention back to me, it waited for me to approach again, only for me to stay where I was.
It took a cautious step towards me, then another and another. When it became confident that I wasn't going to attack, it rushed forward with reckless abandon, its right arm raised his to strike me again. In my head, I pictured what would happen next. I saw myself deftly moving then countering — in that split second, I saw myself practice the move a thousand times until it became a certainty.
Moving exactly how I saw myself, I ducked low underneath a swipe I could barely follow before I rose. A tightly curled fist lashed out, catching the creature underneath its chin, snapping its jaw shut. In my head, it collapsed to the ground, bright green blood leaking out of its mouth as its eyes rolled back. What actually happened was it recovered from my attack like it hadn't felt it at all before lashing out with a foot that caught me in the stomach.
I shot through the air, crashing against the metal wall hard enough that it dented, before collapsing to the ground clutching at my stomach. Vomit erupted from my mouth and when it tapered off, I saw blood mixed in. The taste of it was heavy on my tongue as I tensed so hard that I trembled, struggling to keep my eyes open.
"Well, he got a hit in. To be honest, I didn't really expect that! Good job Tarble!" Queen Teach yelled, clapping in a way that sounded that made it hard to tell if she was being genuine or sarcastic.
"Why are you laying down? Get up!" Vegeta commanded, stomping a foot angrily. He looked like he was about to march over to finish the job before King Vegeta placed a hand on his shoulder.
The elder Vegeta shook his head, "don't interfere. This is Tarble's challenge to overcome." He said, earning a hesitant nod from Vegeta. His gaze never left mine, not so much as acknowledging the saibaman's worried look. I could feel his expectations of me like a physical weight, tossed on top of all the others. They were also the shove I needed to push through the pain and try to stand up. My legs wobbled like a newborn deer, if it weren't for the wall I would have fallen flat on my face.
King Vegeta's face didn't show a hint of approval as he watched. Vegeta, on the other hand, looked furious. "Stop stalling and kill it! Rip that sniveling creature's throat out!" Vegeta...cheered? From how angry he looked, it was hard to tell if he was talking to the saibaman or me.
I wouldn't be able to dodge again. My body was screaming at me to stay down as I drove myself forward, clutching my stomach with one hand. Attacking it with my fists would just end up like last time, dealing no damage and opening myself up for a devastating counterattack. So, what are my options? Laying down and dying was out, leaving me with…
The saibaman shot forward, confident in its victory and lack of punishment. It attacked with the same arm raised high, moving in a blur that I could follow easier this time. A hand whipped out, grabbing its wrist before I turned sharply, using its momentum against it and slammed it into the ground. My attack didn't hurt it, I knew better than to hope for that now, but it stunned the saibaman long enough that I could wrap my arms around its throat in a chokehold.
It squawked while its claws dug into my forearms. I ignored the pain as I squeezed with all my might, gritting my teeth so hard they threatened to shatter. It wasn't enough to stop the monster from getting up, trying to shake me off as it clicked with what sounded like irritation. A claw reached back, trying to grab me that way, but finding no grip with my skin-tight suit.
Biting back a scream when I felt its claws dig into my back, carving long lines up it, my gaze landed on a pointy ear directly in front of me. Leaning forward, I bite down as hard as I could, my teeth felt like they were more likely to break than its skin. The saibaman screeched, the only warning I had before it jumped backward, slamming into a wall with me in between.
It reminded me of getting hit by Truck-kun, only this time I didn't go splat, though it was a near thing. Every bone creaked under the strain, those that didn't break outright. Something in my ribs gave way, the pain becoming unbearable, but even still my grip didn't lessen.
The saibaman hissed in annoyance before slamming into the wall harder this time, metal warping, the back of my head hitting-
Everything went dark for a second and I found myself on the floor. "Wah," I started to mutter, blinking to clear my hazy vision, only for the first thing I saw was a clawed foot heading for my-
…
I woke up in goop again. For a split second, I wondered if what happened was all a dream, only for the pain that wracked my body to quickly remind me that it really happened. That, and the tank I found myself in was very different than the one I grew up in. For starters, I could only see through a small round window while everything else was a smooth metal grid with a few buttons around a seal.
A picture of a saiyan body with several parts highlighted, a small line connected to some information, caught my attention. It told me the injuries it was healing. Reading over them got a small wince out of me, leading to a worse wince because of my broken ribs. My arm was also broken, a fairly bad concussion and severe bruising...pretty much everywhere.
"Awake already?" I heard someone ask before a face filled my window. It belonged to the saiyan that brought in the saibamen. "That's surprising. Thought you'd be out for a few more hours." He commented, a soft thump telling me that he leaned heavily against the orb I found myself in.
"...is this the healing tank?" I hazard a guess, inspecting my wounds. They matched up with the picture. The cuts on my arms and back itched, like tiny pinpricks poking at them, so I assumed that whatever this goop did was helping. "And who are you?"
"The names Bardock, a low-class saiyan warrior. And you're caretaker, apparently," Bardock grumbled with a huff I think he didn't know I could hear. He said he was a low-class saiyan, the class that made up most of the saiyan population, but the entry point for mid-class was 5000. 700 points was a lot, but he was close to entering a very exclusive class that only had ten members.
Considering all of that, my babysitter was one of the top fifteen strongest saiyans alive.
"Don't you have better things to do?" I asked hesitantly. Having someone like Bardock babysitting me was a little...wasteful.
"Plenty," Bardock agreed, sounding amused. "But I'm not in a position to tell the king no. So, here I am."
With his power level, it was easy enough to guess why. "To stop the saibamen from killing me?" I hazard a guess, knowing that they weren't domesticated so much as beaten into submission. Without the threat of immediate death, if they go too far, they'd kill me in a heartbeat.
"Got it in one. And I'm supposed to record your progress, yada yada yada -- basically, making sure that you're not a hopeless case. If you are, then I get you out of my hair since you'll either be dead or sent on an infiltration mission to toughen you up." The fact that most babies sent on infiltration missions, missions to conquer planets, didn't come back for obvious reasons went unsaid.
So that's how it is, I thought, falling silent at his explanation. He was hoping for me to either die or be inept. Forcing a saiyan to spend time watching me when he could be taking tougher mission to close the gap so he could become a mid-class saiyan was just asking for an unfortunate accident to happen. I couldn't rely on him for anything, much less help -- the faster I proved to be a waste of space or die, the faster he got to go back to what he actually wanted to do.
The only person I could rely on is myself. King Vegeta and Queen Teach put me in this situation, so hoping that they would bail me out was beyond stupid. Vegeta acted like he was just as likely to kill me as he was to help me. Thyme already wrote me off…
I could only get out of this situation by dying...wasn't an option. Escaping...also not an option because it was flat out impossible between the saibamen, Bardock, and I would have to get off-planet all as a three-year-old. That just left killing the three saibamen and earning the right to call myself a saiyan warrior. Out of all of them, the latter was most appealing but the former was the most likely outcome.
My eyes closed, I felt myself slip into meditation that I got so used to over the years. The pain melted from my body, leaving me feeling strong. Stronger. When I opened my eyes I saw that I was alone again, the light had gone off in the room, leaving me in darkness. A hand drifted up to the scouter still on my eye, pressing the button and it performed a self-scan.
Better. Not anywhere good enough, but better. 6 points for one bout that I got my butt kicked. However, the next bout...if I got another 6 points, then another 6 and another 6… A galactic standard year was 300 days, if I got at least 6 points each day then my power level would be around 1800, putting me on equal footing with the strongest silberman.
I couldn't blow away the mountain with a single mighty swing, but I could chip away at it until I found myself standing at its peak. It would be long, painful and downright brutal...it was also my only chance of surviving.
Swallowing a sigh, I hit the drainage button. I had a long year ahead of me, so might as well get an early start.
I threw a jab, already ducking underneath a counter that I knew was coming. A lime green claw passed through my static hair the same second that my fist collided with the saibaman's face. Unlike two months ago, it felt the blow. It squawked, knocked off balance as blood trickled out of a split lip. Seizing the chance, I followed the attack up with a roundhouse kick that slammed into its side, its arm and body folding around my leg before it flew to the side like a speeding bullet until it came to a sudden stop against a badly damaged metal wall.
Unfortunately, the saibaman shook off any damage, it cackled in a low tone, a mocking chuckle. My eyes narrowed at the unspoken taunt, my fists tightening until my knuckles were bloodless. My blood felt hot in my veins, roaring to throw myself at the monster for underestimating me. Instead, I pulled myself back, settling in a mockery of a fighting stance.
"You're being passive again," Bardock commented through a large slab of barely cooked meat from his position at the door. I paid him no mind, giving the saibaman my full attention. It settled in its usual stance, its arms up like it was about to tackle me and legs bent to rush forward.
I was ready for it when it lunged towards me, crossing the distance between us in a blink of an eye. Just like I expected, it attacked with its right — blocking it would get a counterattack from its legs, dodging that make an opening to appear.
For two months I fought the saibaman every single day that I was able to. In the beginning, my days were fighting the saibaman, almost dying, healing for the rest of the day until tomorrow rolled around. As time went by, each day the fights would last a little longer as my strength grew.
Months later, our bouts were only broken up only by food instead of having to go into the healing tank — I thought my power level would skyrocket. I was getting stronger, faster, better in every single way. Yet, in the past week, my power level only went up a single point. I was stagnating instead of getting stronger. I only had ten months left and I wasn't anywhere close to being able to take on the strongest saibaman-
A leg blurred towards my face, only my quick reflexes managing to save me from getting kicked. I jerked my head to the side, narrowly missing the blow, before countering with an elbow aimed at its face. It's red eyes went wide before my elbow slammed into its forehead. It jerked back, stunned, and opened itself to a kick in its stomach. It flew away from me, skidding to a halt near Bardock, who looked at it like it was something he scraped off his boots.
"You're getting distracted in the middle of a fight. I thought you were passed that," he continued through a mouthful of bone, the crunches seeming to echo in the mostly empty room. My lips pressed into a thin line, knowing he was right but not wanting to agree with him. It was still stronger than me, I couldn't afford to get lost in my thoughts.
Bardock didn't like being ignored, but he liked it less when I responded in the middle of a fight. Learned that the hard way. I didn't respond, settling back into my stance as I waited for the saibaman to come to me.
Over the months, it learned to be cautious instead of rushing in recklessly. I hadn't managed to kill it yet, but I gave more than I received in these recent bouts. After sparing a glance at Bardock, it inched forward with a low growl. One step at a time, lunging every once and a while to bait me into dodging, but I stood firm and waited-
It was only because he stood behind the saibaman that I saw Bardock raise a hand before a beam of light rushed at me. I didn't have time to so much as think of dodging before I found myself on my knees, clutching a freshly wounded shoulder. The ki blast burned through my suit, charring my skin and throbbed with agony.
The saibaman saw its chance and rushed forward, reaching me in a split second. I wasn't in a position to dodge, instead, I tensed and braced myself to take the blow. I shot backward, my eyes on Bardock as I sailed through the air.
Was that it then? The moment I stopped making any progress, he decides to cut his losses and kill me? My downloaded lessons told me that the ideal saiyans were ruthless, self-centered assholes -- its wording differed -- but experiencing it first hand was something else.
Bardock smirked when he saw my glare, another beam of light racing for me from the tip of his finger. I flipped, moving out of the way of the beam's path-
The saibaman filled my vision a split second before I felt a heavy blow land on my back. I slammed into the floor with a grunt, quickly flipping to my feet in a handspring. Not a second later, the saibaman slammed a claw into the floor where I was. Metal crumpled like tissue paper, it cackling with glee as it yanked its hand out.
I couldn't seize the opportunity to settle in a defensive stance before another beam raced towards me. Dodging out of the way, another one slammed into my side as soon as I got out of harm's way. "Ahh," I cried out despite myself, clutching at my side, feeling hot blood seep in between my fingers.
It wasn't a lethal wound. That would be too obvious. He was weakening me so that the saibaman would finish me off. It would leave a mess when it killed me, hiding most of the evidence and, with King Vegeta's words ringing in my head like a bell, I knew no one would be looking too close to find any subtle evidence of my murder.
The saibaman was on me, attacking at my wounded shoulder that I managed to narrowly dodge. Another claw raced towards my face, leaning out of the way-
Another beam struck my knee. It gave out, letting me duck underneath the saibaman's attack. Out of position, I grabbed its arm and flipped it over my shoulder, using its momentum against it. Expecting another attack from Bardock, I threw myself out of the way, my eyes on him, only to see that the attack never came.
Instead, he lowered his hand, a sigh escaping him. "You fight way too defensively. I haven't seen you take initiative once in two months of babysitting you," he commented, earning a short pointed glare before I was forced to pay attention to the saibaman attacking me. "You pay no mind to your surroundings -- in a one on one fight, that's fine. You were doing fine right up until I started distracting you and now look at yourself."
My knee throbbed with agony when I put any weight on it, blood-soaked my side and every time I moved my shoulder made me want to curl up into a ball and just let myself die. Even still, I dodged the saibaman's attacks, bobbing and weaving out of the way, unable to counterattack properly.
"All you do is counterattack. You never make the first move," Bardock continued, his tone careless as he set up my murder, rubbing salt into the wound. He didn't strike me as the kind of guy who'd rub his victim's faces in their failings, but I was wrong. "Even when you have the upper hand, you never follow through. Like that elbow earlier -- you could have taken out one of its eyes if you hit it there instead of its forehead."
He was right. It galled me to admit, even if it was only to myself, but he was right. As if sensing my thoughts, Bardock continued to pick apart my abilities.
"Tarble," he said, shocking me enough that I looked over. It was the first time he said my name since I've known him. My shocked look was cut short when a claw lashed out at my face. With no room to dodge, I took the blow on my forehead, hot blood dripping into my eyes where skin tore before I quickly retreated.
"We use saibamen because they're good at teaching the basics. Attack, dodging and so on. They're useful for that much. You've got that down, more or less. So, do you know what your problem is now?" Bardock asked as I narrowly dodged another attack.
"I'm sure you're about to tell me," I remarked, redirecting an attack so it sailed harmlessly away from me.
"Heh. Your problem is that you're afraid of going to the next level," Bardock stated, not an ounce of doubt in his tone. "You just keep on fighting that saibaman, avoiding killing it, so you can pat yourself on the back for not getting your ass kicked. And you want to call yourself a saiyan warrior."
I didn't have a response to that, the words striking home with as much force as any blow I suffered so far. They rang true, in spite of wanting him to be wrong. About everything. I hadn't attacked first once this fight. I didn't seize every opportunity to put an end to the match -- the elbow, when I threw it over my shoulder...if I went for the throat if I stomped on its head…
I had chances to kill it and I didn't take any of them.
My doubt must have shown because Bardock continued in a deadly serious tone. "Enough wasting my time. Kill it now." The 'or else' went unsaid, but I heard it all the same.
I came to a stop some feet away from the saibaman. My wounds- I narrowly avoided another beam to my other knee, an attack that would have left me helpless. Turning to Bardock, I saw him stare at me with a deadly serious expression. I wonder how many aliens saw that expression before they died.
"Stop thinking. Use your instincts. Kill it. Now." He commanded, the tip of his finger glowing as he readied another ki blast. He didn't fire it, leaving it as a threat. This time, I knew, it would go through my heart no matter how I tried to dodge.
There was the ultimatum I expected, I thought, gritting my teeth as my eyes narrowed into a glare at Bardock then at the saibaman. With my wounds, victory was all but impossible, and now Bardock could go to King Vegeta saying that he tried but I just wasn't up to the challenge. He put a surprising amount of thought into arranging my murder for a saiyan.
Even still, my hands curled into fists so tight that they trembled. Anger burned in my chest -- at Bardock, at the saibaman, at King Vegeta for putting me in this situation and at myself for letting it get this far-- No. Enough of that. Enough thinking. If I was going to die...then I refused to die alone.
With my good leg, I launched myself forward, surprising the saibaman if its widening eyes were anything to go by. It reacted by meeting me halfway, lashing out with a claw. I accepted the blow to my stomach, feeling its claws dig into my flesh, it stayed there, stunned at how wildly different I fought, letting me grab its wrist to keep it pinned.
Rearing my head back, I slammed it into the saibaman's forehead and felt it return the blow against my wounded shoulder as it clicked with fury. Swallowing a cry of pain, I pulled my head back and headbutted it again. And again. And another time to be sure. Each time it struck back and each time I accepted the blows. I wasn't in any position to dodge before, and I certainly wasn't now.
Letting out a pain-filled roar, I shoulder checked the saibaman, sticking one leg behind it's so it fell to the ground with me on top of it. It looked up at me dazed, it's large red eyes unfocused as dark green blood dripped from its forehead. I hit it with all my strength, it's head jerking to the side, but that was all the damage I did. I wasn't strong enough to crush its bones with my punches yet.
Then our eyes met, solid black against solid red, and I found my answer. I slammed my fist against its wide eye and felt something give way. My stomach heaved, hot green blood splattering over my cheek, but I swallowed it down. The saibaman beneath me went still, dead.
"Sloppy as all hell, but it'll do. See what you can do when you don't use your head so much? You start acting like a proper saiyan," Bardock stated as I yanked my hand free, rolling off the saibaman to my feet, turning my attention to him. An eyebrow quirked up in response, amusement dancing in his black eyes. "A little early for you to try to take me on, brat. Give it a couple of decades when I'm out of my prime."
Gritting my teeth, I kept my fists raised, watching him step closer with each second. As soon as he entered striking- "Ughhhh…!" I groaned, every muscle going limp the second that his hand wrapped around my tail, giving it a savage yank. "Let...go...scarface…"
"I will soon enough," Bardock answered, carrying me by the tail, my limp legs dragging across the ground. Was this it? Was I about to taste defeat so soon after tasting victory? Without so much as a fight? No. I was a saiyan! A warrior! I would not die without-
My thoughts were interrupted by Bardock letting go of my tail, tossing me into a pod. A door slammed shut behind me, a moment before the pod began filling with water. Drowning me? Did he not- oh. Right. Healing pod. I...kinda got caught up in my thoughts, didn't I?
"I gotta go report this to King Vegeta, so sit tight. I'll be back later," Bardock said, knocking on the healing tank before I saw him walking away. I watched him leave, wondering if I should say something for assuming that he was going to murder me, but decided against it. Mostly because he didn't know so there was technically nothing to apologize for.
I found myself slipping into meditation out of habit, trying to drift off to think about what happened today. Instead, I chose to think of nothing, letting my mind go blank as the healing tank worked its magic. That way, it only felt like it took a moment for my body to heal when it took hours.
With well-practiced ease, I pressed the drain button and got out. Rolling my shoulder, I inspected my side and stomach to see smooth skin. There wasn't even a single scar despite months of life and death struggles against a foe that, until today, was vastly stronger than me.
Even now, I was still weaker than the saibaman. Was I just putting too much stock in power levels? I thought I would have to have a power level of at least 500 to defeat it. Given my condition when I killed it, odds were the gap between us was bigger than it usually was.
"Maybe…" I started, staring through the thick metal door that separated this room from the training room. I could practically feel the other two saibamen on the other side. The strongest saibaman would still be beyond me, but the other would only be twice as strong as me. I could win. I wouldn't, but I could.
With my mind made up, I strode out of what served as my bedroom, to fight my next fight.
…
Meeting King Vegeta was daunting as always, Bardock thought walking through wide-open halls of the palace, spotting a large bald man well out of his prime leaning against a door to the throne room. He sported a white beard, his head devoid of any hair with a large X shaped scar covering most of his scalp.
"Matillo," Bardock nodded, not stopping his stride despite the older saiyan making no move to get out of his way. Matillo said nothing, his arms crossed while he watched Bardock approach. His heartbeat started to pick up, an itch that was begging to be scratched for months now suddenly seemed so much worse when he was on a collision course with a mid-class saiyan.
Right when Bardock was about to walk into him, determined to either get into the throne room or start a fight, Matillo finally opened his eyes to look at him. "You're supposed to be babysitting," he observed, his voice rough like gravel.
"He's takin' a nap right now," Bardock answered shortly, smirking when his eyes narrowed dangerously. His tail twitched in anticipation, hands curled into fists, ready to throw the first punch.
"Oh?" Matillo uttered, pushing himself off the door and standing at his full height. He was a head and shoulders taller than Bardock not counting his hair, his power radiating from him, making every hair stand on end. Bardock's smirk turned into a full-blown smile, his blood sang in his veins as his heart started hammering away at his ribs. "Is he going to be waking up from that nap?"
"Who knows?" He hedged with a shrug, letting his power leak out as a silent challenge. Matillo met it, abandoning subtlety entirely. His aura exploded out of him, waves of it crashing over Bardock with enough force he had to take a step back to avoid falling over entirely. Not one to be outdone, he let go of his restraint and went full throttle.
"You're still years of way to be worth scraping off my boots," Matillo drawled, sounding unimpressed. Couldn't blame him for that. He was decades out of his prime and he was still stronger than him. Odds were, he crushed low-ranking trash like him underfoot on his way to bigger and badder game without noticing.
"Maybe," Bardock agreed, cocking his head as he relished in the feeling, a feeling he went without for two months. That moment before a fight, when the tension became almost unbearable. Saiyan warriors lived for that moment just as much as they lived for fighting and Bardock was no different. "How about we find out?"
The tension was ruined by the door behind Matillo cracked open, revealing a slight man with a bushy mustache. He was thin as a twig, no muscle to speak of, while everything else about him screamed that he was a working-class saiyan. He wore Frieza-force style armor, a long hoop covering the back half of his legs. King Vegeta's personal servant. It would explain why he looked so uncaring in the face of two powerful saiyans about to fight.
"King Vegeta will see you, Bardock." He said, bowing a fraction. Instantly, Matillo powered down, letting out an annoyed huff. Without uttering another word, the older saiyan marched forward. This time, Bardock was the one that remained unmoving as he approached.
"We'll continue this later," Bardock swore, stepping out of his way at the last possible second.
"Your funeral," Matillo agreed without sparing a look in his direction.
Bardock watched him go, torn between excitement and disappointment that the fight wouldn't be happening now. He settled with disappointed. He hadn't thrown a single punch in months. Hitting the kid with energy blasts was the closest thing to action that he got since becoming a caretaker.
"King Vegeta is waiting for you," the servant...Spargu reminded with a sweeping gesture. Knowing that keeping the temperamental king waiting was a bad idea, Bardock stepped passed him and entered the throne room. King Vegeta sat on his throne, looking imposing as ever. His expression was impassive, making it impossible to tell if he cared at all about what happened just outside his door.
If he did, then he was a dead man walking. Such was the price when dealing with royal jackasses.
His son, Vegeta, because a king and a planet weren't enough, stood at his side. He took after his father more than his mother, practically a carbon copy of the king right down to the same widows peak and dark red cape. It was downright creepy. Bardock was half sure that he got his hands on some cloning tech and just made a mini-him instead.
"Bardock. I didn't expect to see you so soon. Is the child dead?" King Vegeta drawled, sounding bored as he stared down at him with dull eyes. Young Vegeta did the exact opposite by perking up, suddenly very interested in what he had to say.
"No, my king," Bardock spoke, falling to his knee. "He killed the weakest saibaman earlier and is recovering in the healing pod." Best to leave out how he got that to happen. Tarble would have wasted the year away without the kick he needed. A normal saiyan parent would understand that. King Vegeta wasn't a normal parent by any stretch of the imagination.
King Vegeta's eyes widened a fraction, stunned before a slight smile appeared on his face. His shock swiftly became smugness, his smirk sharp enough to cut. It was like Vegeta and Tarble's accomplishments were his, no matter how pitiful they might be.
"How surprising. I never imagined he would be able to kill one of them, especially not so soon." King Vegeta uttered, "his progress is well beyond my expectations. In truth, I was worried I would have to send the boy off on an infiltration mission, but it seems that he escaped that fate. It would seem that he does have a fighting spirit despite his pitiful power level." He explained despite no one asking.
"Tell me Bardock, how much progress has he made?" King Vegeta continued, leaning back in his chair now that the fate of his son was sealed. It was a common tactic for rearing children -- give them an impossible task for them to bash their heads against until one gave way.
It was a good way of further weeding out the warriors from the rest. Power levels weren't everything. Without a drive pushing them forward to the next level, then those saiyans stagnated. Then died, preferably alone without dragging the rest of their team with them.
Or…, Bardock silently added to himself, they join the working-class. Like Gine had.
"His power level was 460 before he killed it. It's probably a little higher now," he answered, savoring King Vegeta's stunned expression. Bardock couldn't blame him for it. He barely believed it and he watched it happen over months, ever vigilant to make sure the brat wasn't killed on accident.
Tarble was a spit in the face of the class system. An anomaly that stood against everything that they were raised to believe -- the power level you were born with represented how far you would go in life. Bardock was born at the very edge of being born into the mid-class, so it was accepted and expected that he could one day rise in class. Tarble was born with a pl of 16, and yet, if he had the power level that he did now, he would have been born into the elite-class. Tarble was a freak of nature not just because of how much he grew in strength, but because of how fast as well.
"I see," King Vegeta said, ignoring a look from his kid. Having raised Raditz, Bardock recognized it as an expression kids made when they wanted to say something but knew better. Not that it stopped Raditz. "Children do see some explosive growth, but this is extraordinary. As expected of my progeny."
Bardock nodded, not trusting himself to not make a remark about that. "Despite his growth, I've noticed some problems." He spoke up, listing out the same issues he told Tarble earlier. King Vegeta nodded, looking displeased but he didn't start throwing energy blasts, so that was good. Eventually, he nodded curtly.
"Fix those flaws, Bardock. I will provide another three- no, five saibamen to remedy this." That was a little excessive. If Tarble survived, then that weakness was going to be polished out. "Is that all?"
Bardock shifted where he knelt, words resting heavily on his tongue. Unfortunately, King Vegeta noticed. "Speak," he ordered, his words sounding like a threat.
"Tarble…" How did he say this without getting killed? "Spends too much time in his head. I know he can speak, but he rarely says a word. I got curious about how long he could go without speaking, and he didn't say a word for three weeks. Well, not counting all the screams." Even then, his streak was only broken by muttering a curse when the saibaman started stomping on his legs, breaking them in a dozen places.
"Oh?" King Vegeta uttered, frowning. "Thyme mentioned this might be an issue. It seems he was too advanced mentally in the gestation tank, so it could adversely affect his personality." He explained, sounding like he was quoting the Caretaker instead of speaking his own thoughts. "He wasn't stimulated enough while gestating, stunting certain parts of his brain. I have been assured that it won't interfere with his abilities."
That didn't address the issue, though. "But-" The word escape his mouth before he could think better of it. King Vegeta's gaze turned sharp, his cold anger starting to simmer when Bardock didn't continue.
"You have something to say?" King Vegeta asked, Bardock's eyes closing for a split second as he came to a decision.
"He's not going to be able to function on a team if he stays how he is. He doesn't communicate and he spends too much time in his head." Bardock answered bluntly. Tarble was antisocial by saiyan standards. In the months he watched over the brat, not once did Tarble even try to leave his room. He didn't leave to get extra food from the cafeteria or go outside to see the sun. He just fought, healed, ate and fought some more. His determination was unnerving, to say the least.
Worse, it wasn't entirely his fault. Bardock didn't know when exactly his consciousness clicked into place, but he could have spent years floating in a tank unable to say anything.
That sounded like a nightmare as far as Bardock was concerned. Unable to move, unable to fight, eat or talk for years… It didn't really sink in until he started thinking about it, but he was probably the only other saiyan he spent more than five minutes with. That was...depressing.
"I want to break him out of those habits now before they become too ingrained and cause problems that could get him killed later on," Bardock explained, meeting his sharp gaze. King Vegeta was silent, his son fuming next to him but not speaking, even as he glared bloody murder at Bardock.
"It sounds like you have a suggestion," King Vegeta intoned, his words clipped. Bardock wasn't surprised. It was obvious that he was about to make a play and he guessed King Vegeta got plenty of practice dealing with them as king.
"Put him on a squad. He's strong enough." Bardock replied, trying to keep the hope out of his voice. Everyone won this way. Tarble got to stop getting nearly beaten to death every day and, more importantly, Bardock would be free to go on missions with his team. "Not only will it bring him out of his shell, but it would also be a chance to mold him into a capable leader."
For a long minute, the only sound in the throne room was the sound of King Vegeta tapping his finger. "You make a fair point Bardock," he complimented, raising red flags, seeing the slight smirk on the king's lips those red flags started waving madly. "Thank you for volunteering your squad. As an extremely talented tactician, I'm sure Tarble will be safe in your care while you teach him all that you know."
Bardock clenched his jaw so hard a muscle spasmed as he struggled to push the anger he felt down. He...he should have expected that. He should have expected King Vegeta to shut down any attempt to free himself of the brat so he could get stronger and finally become the eleventh mid-class saiyan. King Vegeta didn't want him to rise in class. That was why he made him, of all people, look after the brat.
"It would be my honor to continue looking after Tarble," Bardock spoke through gritted teeth, his anger must have shown because Young Vegeta sneered at him while his father just looked smug.
"I am pleased to hear it Bardock. You have my utmost faith. However, should Tarble die…" King Vegeta mocked, making Bardock close his eyes briefly, his fist trembling in rage.
"Then I die too." Bardock bit out, having heard the ultimatum once before months ago. Knowing that his audience was at an end, Bardock bowed before walking away, seething with rage. As soon as the heavy doors closed behind him, Bardock slammed a fist against a stone wall, it gave way like sand.
A low growl escaped him as he left the palace and flew back to the Nursery, irritated and frustrated. All the while Bardock thought furiously to himself. He should have just written the brat off as a hopeless weakling and let that be that. King Vegeta understood that you couldn't make talent magically appear -- that was why so many weak children were sent to conquer planets, both to rid the saiyan race of deadweight and to find those rare late bloomers.
"Should have lied," Bardock reflected, spotting the training room door. He should have said that the brat didn't have any fighting spirit in him a month ago, then he would be back with his team going on missions, prepping for the war with the Reach. He should have just ignored his curiosity on how exactly Tarble managed to slowly increase his strength each day, only to plateau when he wasn't getting beaten half to death every day.
Bardock was paying for finding the answers he sought. Who knew when he would be able to put his theory into practice?
With a sigh, he opened the door to see...a corpse. No, not a corpse, but a corpse in the making. Two saibamen stomped on Tarble, his legs bent at unnatural angles, a bone sticking out of his arm, laying in a pool of his own blood.
"You!" Bardock snapped, the saibamen jerked in surprise, looking at him with wide fear-filled eyes. They died with that expression when he closed the distance, flipping the kid over to see a battered and bloodied face with closed eyes. They tried to butterfly open, but the swelling was already too bad for him to see through. "I take my eyes off you for one minute!"
Grabbing the idiot by the scruff of his neck, Bardock stomped over to the healing tank, his anger boiling over. "I take it back. You don't think, you little half-tailed moron," he snapped at the unconscious boy, tossing him into the tank and starting the healing process. Watching the tank fill up, he took a glance at his vitals to see that he was going to survive. Probably.
For a long minute, Bardock just stared at the tank, anger slowly dissipating, leaving exhaustion in its place. Dragging a hand down his face, a sigh escaped him. It was clear that his biggest challenge wasn't going to turn this lump of densely condensed stupidity in the shape of a toddler into a saiyan warrior, but stopping said lump of stupid from killing himself.
How did he get out of this? He wanted to go out on missions again, but any that Tarble was qualified to do were so easy Bardock could do them with his eyes closed, hands and tail tied behind his back. Not to mention that his crew would mutiny at the very idea. None of them would grow stronger and any hope of finding a decent fight on those missions was a pipedream.
Bardock stared at the battered and broken brat for a long moment, a plan forming in his head. If the problem was that the missions Tarble qualified for were too boring, then the obvious solution was to bring him on missions that Bardock's team would want to go on. Then the only issue was making sure that Tarble didn't die, which was a pain, but he preferred it to not going on missions at all.
A smile threatened to tug at Bardock's lips, only to fall a second later when he continued to look at the mostly dead kid.
"This...is going to be harder than I thought."