Going Native: Birds eye view (Patreon)

Shorter chapter than normal. This one just didn’t want to be written, the first time I’ve run into writer's block for this story, so that's why its a little short. Sorry about that. 

...

“Are we winning?” Vegeta asked, looking at an overly detailed hologram of the Reach empire. Far too overly detailed. Numbers that meant nothing to him, scrolling text that meant less, arrows pointed at places that he had never heard of and didn’t care to learn. He looked at it to answer that simple question, but all he was getting was a headache. 

Nappa looked up from a report, his stark white cape attached to his armor marked him as a general. The only saiyan born general in the Frieza-force. To his left was some kind of lizard, its cape marking it as an admiral of a significant fleet. The First Fleet, that he knew only because he was traveling with it. 

Nappa said something to the admiral, whatever it was, Vegeta didn’t care enough to hear. A foot tapped impatiently, his arms crossed as he glared at the hologram. He could make out the border, a purple coloring marking worlds that the Frieza-force had conquered. It wasn’t a neat line, either -- apparently space warfare was rather messy. Space was so empty for the most part and where it wasn’t, it was usually asteroids or debris that made of an easy place to hide. 

Vegeta heard stories of small forces waiting until they were behind enemy lines then launching attacks on supply lines. Though, he guessed he should expect nothing less from alien scum. Botched jobs and incompetence all around, they couldn’t even purge a planet properly.  

Eventually, after making him wait far too long, Nappa made his way over to Vegeta. He looked at the hologram for a moment, an intense expression telling Vegeta his answer. No, they weren’t winning. 

“We don’t know yet,” Nappa answered, earning a scowl from Vegeta, shooting his...caretaker...a glare at the lack of a clear answer. 

“That was a yes or no question,” Vegeta informed, earning a disrespectful huff from Nappa. Vegeta chose not to make a comment about it. If he killed his caretaker then he wouldn’t get his answer. Well, he could, but then he would have to lower himself to speak to aliens. 

Nappa scratched at his chin for a moment, considering the hologram, before he gave a small shrug. “We aren’t losing,” he decided, still not answering his question. Seeing the glare that Vegeta shot at him, Nappa was quick to continue. “We’re pushing through their worlds on their western border.” In response to his words, a few planets were highlighted. 

A few dozen out of over a thousand. 

“Our FTL detectors haven’t picked up on a real counter-attack on that front. So far, we’ve secured thirteen planets, Rockoroad serving as our depo. A shipyard is being built there for repairs. And more ships, if you believe gossip.” Nappa continued, not sounding that interested. Which was fair. No one cared about fleets. 

Shooting at each other with weapons from miles away? Using a glorified vehicle to do the fighting for you? Where was the honor and glory in that?

“However, it does seem that Lord Frieza is going to push that front. I’ve been given control over the Third and Fifth armies to lock down any worlds in the 31st to 36th quadrant,” Nappa explained, this time there was pride in his voice. Vegeta allowed it. Between two armies, Nappa was in control of over a million soldiers, more than enough to lock down hundreds of thousands of miles of empty space. 

“Hmm,” Vegeta hummed, starting to get a picture of the war now. “And the left?”

At this, Nappa winced ever so slightly. That told him all that he needed to know. “Not as well. The Reach’s eastern border doesn’t have as much give before you hit one of their shield worlds. Matillo and Parslee have managed to lock down a planet each, but they’re struggling to keep hold of them. The Reach is orbitally bombarding them, wrecking the Second army stationed there.” 

“...and my mother?” Vegeta asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“Queen Teach has taken nearly ten planets herself with the support of the 12th army. Some of them are contested, she lost a planet recently because of a slave insurrection.” Nappa said, zeroing in on the planet that dared to rebel from Mother’s rightful rule. “The aliens there make pretty useful slaves, so Frieza wanted a bunch of them rounded up before the Reach finished evacuating the planet. Ruccollo is going to retake it before the Reach can drop them supplies.”

Ruccollo. Another mid-class saiyan that earned some glory in the past year of war. 

“Good,” Vegeta said, hoping that his mother found plenty of strong opponents on the frontlines. He wished he was there, where the fighting was at its thickest, but this was fine too. This way, he could support Tarble as his team carved through the Reach’s defensive lines. Fighting powerful opponents was ideal, but slaughtering weaklings had its own appeal. 

“And where are we heading exactly?” Vegeta asked, wanting to know how close he was to the frontlines. He couldn’t let Tarble have all the fun. 

The hologram changed, highlighting two planets. Along with countless pings. “What are those red dots?” Vegeta demanded to know, glaring at them. They all correlated in a ring in one of the systems, inside an asteroid field. 

“They represent where the First Fleet was ambushed when securing the system. There are still pockets of resistance left there, but we don’t know numbers. We’re tracking locations to triangulate where they’re based. That area,” Nappa said, pointing at a larger red dot, “is the area where we’ve narrowed it down too.”

“I see,” Vegeta intoned, nodding sagely. He stared at the hologram for a long minute, mulling over what he learned. It didn’t take him long to reach a conclusion. “In a year, we’ve managed to take...fifty worlds?” That was it? Fifty? Out of over a thousand? 

“Forty-five,” Nappa corrected, highlighting a planet on the western front. “The Reach retook planet Leef and put the Eighth army in a full retreat. Then there have been other slave rebellions, one of which is being crushed right now but the others look like they’re going to need a saiyan touch-” 

Vegeta stopped listening, staring at the planets for a moment before he realized he recognized them. Those two planets that Tarble and his team had taken.

Despite himself, Vegeta felt his heart go still in his chest. “So Bardock’s squad is cut off?” Vegeta interrupted, frowning at the blinking planet that was now behind enemy lines. A planet that would remain behind enemy lines for some time.

"They are, but knowing Bardock, that's how he likes it," Nappa offered, sounding like he wished he was there instead of leading Frieza's armies. Vegeta would be a liar if he said he didn't feel the same. "No support, no relief, back up or anything. Just his next set of orders." 

Vegeta didn't comment on that, the conversation he had with Father about Bardock was always so quick to come to mind every time he was mentioned. He hadn't died on the suicide mission -- worse, he made Father angry with Tarble for failing to die as well. He wasn't there to see it first hand, but a call from Mother told him that his rage had been considerable over his failed plot. 

He hoped that time would cool Father's rage. Vegeta was worried that it would stop Tarble from being acknowledged when he rose to the elite-class. Mother assured him that Father was just being overdramatic, which had put him at ease. That all would be forgotten when Bardock was killed, one way or the other. Perhaps if he asked for Tarble to be accepted in the family at the height of his good mood, Father would accept regardless of his class. 

“They have their orders. It’s up to them to make sure they’re carried out,” Vegeta said instead, pushing all thoughts of his unacknowledged brother to the side. With any luck, they would one day run into each other on the battlefield. Hopefully, by that time, Tarble would have at least become mid-class. 

“Hm. Things sure would move a lot faster if Frieza got off his throne,” Nappa commented, making the hologram back out of the general battle map to focus on the current objective. Vegeta looked at the admiral, the creature trying and failing to pretend like it was listening to their every word. Well, it was no matter if he did relay everything back to Frieza. It was hardly a secret that he and the saiyan race were hardly on friendly terms. 

“He won’t. Not any time soon, at least,” Vegeta returned, eyeing their current objective with some interest. Since the war began, Frieza had participated in exactly zero battles. Though, it was hardly cowardness on his part, though Vegeta was loath to admit as much, even to himself. 

Frieza flew across the war in his flagship, a single unassuming ship. It wasn’t even a big ship. And yet, everyone in the galaxy knew who it belonged to. It’s identification keys were open access, letting anyone and everyone know who it belonged to if they didn’t know it by sight. It flew through contested systems, towards enemy strongholds, utterly alone in a silent challenge for anyone to open fire on it. 

And yet, in the past year, no one had. Frieza hadn’t fought a single battle, not because he was a coward, but because the enemy always surrendered at the mere sight of him. 

Only Frieza never went where the enemy was at its strongest, where punching a hole meant they could advance by feet instead of inches. With his ship's FTL jump drive, he could jump to a shield world in minutes and take it out by himself. He didn’t take any planets -- sometimes he would touch down on one to destroy some cities, but he never broke the military on the planet.

“He’s waiting for something,” Vegeta continued, recalling the few meetings he had with the frost demon. Vegeta never saw him mad. Not once. Not even when he blasted an entire platoon of soldiers because he thought one of them might have called him short. 

“Knowing him, it’s probably a grand entrance to the galactic stage,” Nappa hazard a guess. Vegeta sent him a look, silently demanding an explanation, and Nappa got the hint. “It’s not going to say much about him if cleans up a minor battlefield or two. He’s waiting for something big.”

Vegeta considered that, then found himself nodding. That would be fitting for Frieza. It wasn’t enough that the first thing he did when he inherited the Trade Organization was to declare war on their greatest and most powerful customer. He needed something more to make sure that the galaxy noticed him. Though, Vegeta supposed he should be thankful for it. It would be unlikely he would get a chance to fight so many power opponents otherwise. 

“Excuse me, General Nappa? Prince Vegeta?” Came the voice of the admiral, earning a sharp look from Vegeta. What did it think it was doing interrupting their conversation? Did it not know its place? “You were asked to be informed when the Reach released their next propaganda piece to the galaxy.” 

At that, Vegeta did perk up. “Put it on. Now,” he ordered curtly to hide his eagerness. Since the war began, the Reach had been pumping out propaganda to paint themselves as the victims. Which they were, and will be when they scoured their worlds of all life. The cowards wanted to drum up sympathy from the galaxy, Vegeta knew they made contact with the Thanagarian to launch their own invasion into Frieza’s considerable personal holdings. 

If it was working, Vegeta didn’t know. What he did know that it was quickly becoming a point of pride to be featured in the videos that decried them as monsters. He was featured in ten already. His mother, eight, while the rest of the mid-class trash was featured once or none. The admiral hastily obeyed his order, knowing the price of disobedience, and the battle plans shifted to a video. 

“War...war never changes,” a deep voice stated that likely belonged to a Reach ambassador over an image of a dull, if peaceful, alien settlement. Aliens laughed and chatted, bartering as their primitive customs dictated. Vegeta smiled for he knew what was coming next. The aliens chatted until a shadow fell upon them, making them look upon a cloudless day to see a Frieza-force ship hovering over them. 

“Sentient kills fellow sentient. Innocents are lost. Homes are ruined...War never changes, but those that wage it does.” The narrator spoke gravely as the citizens panicked, running for their lives. The shot focused on the ship's main guns, the energy building before it fired on an unseen target. “One year ago, the Reach was attacked unprovoked without justification. The beautiful world of Rockoroad was...lost.”

The scene changed, displaying a dull brown world -- Vegeta tsked when he saw Bardock’s oozaru form laying waste to a city. That made nine times for him. More than Mother. That was unacceptable. 

“Hundreds of millions of lives were lost at the hands of the barbaric saiyan race. Without reason, they destroyed cities,” more images of a ruined city burning, most likely from a drone. “Without cause, they committed the gravest sin in the galaxy. An entire race...gone. Murdered to the last child. The Neopian race...is no more.” The narrator continued, displaying a hideous fish creature. 

“Heh. Good riddance,” Vegeta summarized his thoughts on the matter. 

“Hm, I heard they were pretty tasty, though,” Nappa commented as the video took a dramatic pause to build suspense. 

“Since then, billions more have suffered the same.” Images flashed as he spoke, clips of the war front. The admiral proved to be slightly useful by slowing down the video enough that he could analyze each clip in search of familiar saiyans. Images and clips passed by, showing the Frieza-force armies attacking cities, but he paid no mind to lesser aliens that dared called him their ally. 

A minute passed, then two. He spotted Bardock. Again. On a very brightly colored planet that made his eyes hurt looking at it. Then he found a lingering shot on Mother as she ripped a scouting class scarab in half with her bare hands. Another shot of the one called Tora, a low-class with four showings. 

“Billions of innocent civilians that were guilty of no crime, other than the desire to live peacefully,” the images ramped up, becoming longer as more explicit. An alien being stomped on by an oozaru, a crying alien in front of its parent's corpses. Each image designed to tug at the heartstrings of lesser races. “And yet, the tyrant Frieza has deemed death is a suitable punishment for this desire. He takes no prisoners. He has no mercy. He and his bloodthirsty monsters will stop at nothing until every single last citizen of the Reach has been murdered. 

Then a clip played a saiyan child. Tarble. He hung above a military encampment, the pitiful aliens doing their best to resist, but he simply fired energy blasts from his hands without a trace of mercy on his face. He wasn’t in his oozaru form, not like the other low-class trash that had to be to be of any use. 

“Ah, it’s his third time popping up in one of these, isn't it?” Nappa asked as the clip played out for a few seconds. Vegeta nodded -- Tarble’s first showing was in one of the first of these propaganda pieces when they first showed the destruction of Rockoroad. His oozaru form had picked up a building and thrown it at another. A brief showing, but it still counted. 

“It is. With any luck, he’ll appear in more soon enough.” Vegeta admitted, resisting the urge to demand that the admiral rewind the video so he could watch it again. “Being behind enemy lines will help his chances.”

“What I wouldn’t give to be there,” Nappa said with a sigh. “Still, I wonder what they’re hoping to accomplish with these things?” He questioned as the video continued to play, continuing to decry the Frieza-force as monsters. Vegeta wondered if the Reach knew about their game. He hoped so. 

“They’re trying to unite the galaxy against us,” Vegeta hazard a guess. “They have no allies, so they want to spread fear that we will look beyond the Reach when we’re done with them.” That reasoning came from Frieza himself when he had asked the same question, only to be overheard by the frost demon. “I don’t know if it’s working, though.” 

Apparently, the Trade Organization’s stock was down and a lot of ‘pirates’ had been hitting their merchants. Offices, in other words, were firebombed, employes murdered. Vegeta was told that all of that was bad for the Trade Organization since it brought them in less money. Still, he didn’t know if there was going to be any more...overt actions from the other empires that filled the galaxy. 

“I doubt it. No one likes the Reach. The only ones they can hope that will help them are the Green Lanterns,” Nappa pointed out with some disgust. Vegeta felt much the same about the meddlesome ring bearers. As any proper saiyan, he despised the power rings and those that used them. It was all power than belonged to an over-glorified battery to a race of bobbleheads with so many restrictions placed on them they might as well be slaves. 

He would rather bite off his fingers than ever letting a power ring rest on one of them. Though...perhaps he would allow one if only to keep it as a trophy. Not even his father had killed a Green Lantern. 

“Shame.” Nappa voiced his opinion on the lack of a galactic spanning war. “I was hoping to mount a set of wings back home.” Or getting his hands on the Thanagarian Nth metal weapons. Vegeta wanted to gather it all up to melt it down to be used for his throne when he became king. “Well, hopefully, they’ll start getting involved soon enough.”

Vegeta made a noise of acknowledgment, returning his attention back to the video that was released to every space-faring government. Just in time too. “Frieza is a tyrant and a monster will stop at nothing to sate his thirst for blood. None are safe from him. Rise up now before it is too late to put a stop to this monster!” 

It was a fine finish, Vegeta supposed. He doubted that any empire would answer the Reach’s call, but one could hope. 

“Feh, you’d think they’d show me since I’m leading the armies that conquer their world,” Nappa muttered more to himself than to Vegeta. 

Vegeta was about to respond, only for the admiral to cut him off from his command chair. “General Nappa, we’ve picked up the enemy fleet on our sensors,” it informed, the hologram of the video shifting to display a Reach fleet. Nearly fifty ships in total -- it was a proper fleet, from the look of it. A large flagship lead at the front and center, the dozen or so assault ships arranging themselves around it, while the others hung back.

“The 30th fleet,” Nappa observed, crossing his arms. One of the fifty or so war fleets that the Reach had spread out across their territory, most of them tangled up in engagements across the war front. “Well, I’ll let you have the deck, admiral. Try not to get us all killed.” 

Vegeta paid the admiral no mind as he walked out of the room. He cared nothing for battles that didn’t involve getting up close and personal with an enemy, beating them to death with his bare hands. He refused to take command of one of the Frieza-force drones, and since he was forbidden to fly out with an air tank, the battle had little interest to him. 

He would learn if they won later in the cafeteria. If they lost, then the ship would be destroyed. Either way, he didn’t need to stay.