Chapter Text
[6 July 237 Before Age. Vedev III]
The annual Slaughter of the Wyvern had gotten completely out of control, as planned.
It was a Saiyan tradition on Vedev III, which the native Vedevians tolerated mostly because they had little choice in the matter. The Saiyan population was less than fifty, but any four of them could have annihilated the Vedevians within a week’s time, so they tended to get their way.
But the Vedevians were a practical people, and they found it simpler to go with the flow. Better to supply a Vedevian Wyvern for the Saiyans’ amusement, and let their destructive tendencies cancel each other out.
Of course, the Wyvern itself wasn’t necessarily a match for all of the Saiyans, and so the festival usually descended into a free-for-all, with Saiyans battling each other over who would get the privilege of fighting the Wyvern.
In the midst of this chaos, a handful of Saiyans sat at a bench in front of a food cart and enjoyed the atmosphere.
“Better than anything on Planet Saiya, right?” bellowed a hulking brute with an ugly scar running down the side of his face. It was his most becoming feature.
“I liked last year better,” grumbled a short, stocky Saiyan with a mustache like a pushbroom. “They couldn’t get an adult Wyvern so they sent three juveniles instead. Made things more interesting.”
A woman on the end of the bar said nothing. She simply stared sullenly into her drink. Her furry brown tail hung limply on her lap. Unlike the others, who wore the green leather tunics common to the Saiyans of Vedev, the woman wore baggy white pants, and a fitted top with light armor plating on the chest and shoulders.
“Haven’t seen you around, stranger!” called a tall, lanky man from the opposite end. "I’m Rotcar. Big guy’s Zottle. Short one’s my uncle, Sharrid.”
The woman gave only a slight nod in response.
“Not interested in the festival, huh?” Sharrid asked. "Trust me, if they had listened to me and brought five juvenile Wyverns, that woulda gotten your heart racing. But nobody listens to me…“
"I’m just passing through,” the woman said. "I’m looking for someone. A Saiyan man.“
"Oh is that all?” Rotcar laughed. "Well, I’ve done my part for King Revahls’ population mandate, but I’m always happy to go the extra mile!“
She looked at him with an eerie smile. There was a sparkle in her eye, but it wasn’t quite what Rotcar had in mind. "The Saiyans here are loyal to King Rehval?” she asked. There was more than a trace of accusation to her tone.
“Well, not… I mean, I wasn’t trying to get political,” Rotcar stammered. "It was just a joke, you know? His ‘majesty’ keeps fretting about the Saiyan birthrate, and I only know one cure for that problem, am I right? Heh-heh…“
"He means sex, girlie,” Zottle announced with a knowing grin.
“You’re not helping, pal,” Rotcar muttered under his breath.
“Well I don’t,” the woman growled. "Not today, at least, and certainly not with any of King Rehval’s lapdogs.“ She turned her head and spit, then looked back to her drink. I’m after one of his cronies. And when I find him, I mean to contribute to the population problem by removing him from it.”
She looked over to Zottle and offered him a knowing grin to match his. "I mean murder,“ she explained, matter-of-factly.
"Hey, maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” Sharrid offered. He tended to assume he was the weakest Saiyan in any conversation, because he was usually right. "My nephew’s a little salacious, but he doesn’t mean any harm. Planet Vedev has relations with Saiya. The embassy might give you a bead on him–“
The woman snorted with contempt. "I’ve been to the embassy, and they suggested I look here. A needle among a stack of needles. I might as well blow up the entire planet, but I want him to know it was me, that he couldn’t hide.”
“Blow up the planet?” Sharrid gasped. There were Saiyans on Vedev who could potentially do such a thing, but not many, and none of them made light of such power. Even the strongest Saiyans needed air to breathe and food to eat. Destroying a planet was tantamount to murder-suicide.
“Hey, what did this guy do to get on your bad side, lady?” Rotcar asked. “If you want to give this guy a scare, why don’t you tackle the Wyvern? You’ll get everyone’s attention and maybe work out some of that anger while you’re at it.”
The woman turned around on her stool to look back at the battle. Fifteen Saiyans were busy fighting one another, while another three were darting around the Wyvern, trying to avoid it’s claws and fiery breath as it thrashed around. Her eyes narrowed, and she turned around to look at her drink again.
“Too easy,” she said.
“Whoa, get a load of this one,” Zottle laughed. "Rolls into the Festival and acts like she’s the strongest life form on the planet. Trust me, girlie, you wouldn’t last out there.“ He got up and leaned his head towards her, pointing at his face. "How do you think I got this scar?”
She stared into his eyes and smiled. “You probably put your nose too close to something dangerous,” she said.
The others laughed, and Zottle decided to return to his seat. "Well if you’re such hot stuff, go out and show us!“ he thundered.
"Wait, I get it now,” Rotcar said. "You’re trying to find Luffa!“
"Oh don’t be stupid, kid,” Sharrid said. "The ‘Super Saiyan’ is a hoax. Luffa is just some jacked up alien creep trying to manipulate us real Saiyans. That’s the only reason King Rehval puts up with him. They both want to control us any way they can.“
He turned to the woman and shook his head. "Besides, the jerk would never show his face here. Luffa might have some fancy powers, but he couldn’t stand up to fifty genuine Saiyans!”
“So they’ve heard of the Super Saiyan, even all the way out here,” the woman mused.
“Sure, Rotcar said. He destroyed a planet and killed a Saiyan mercenary. Of course he had to be sneaky about it to pull it off. But now people think Luffa is the strongest Saiyan of all, because they don’t know it’s all fake.”
“I still say Rehval’s behind it,” Shaddir grumbled. “He’ll probably send one of his goons to Vedev in a blonde wig and try to convince us to worship him or something.”
The woman sighed. "See, I heard it a different way. I heard the Super Saiyan is real.“
"Real?!” Shaddir gasped. "Saiyans don’t transform into… into… shiny golden things. They just don’t. Even if they could, all they’d want to do is fight, not sneak around. If this Luffa guy were legit, he’d be killing everyone in his path, like a wild animal.“
"Well it just so happens the Super Saiyan isn’t a fool,” the woman concluded. "Besides, he’s a she. And she isn’t stuck in the transformed state. She can change back, and walk among her own kind without being noticed.“
"That’s bull, girlie,” Zottle scoffed. "Everyone knows a female Saiyan could never become that strong. All the strongest Saiyan heroes in the old stories are men!“
"And why would a Super Saiyan want to change back to normal anyway?” Rotcar asked. “I wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” the woman said. “Maybe she wants to keep a low profile because she’s looking for someone. A miserable coward, perhaps, who would turn tail and run at the sight of her.”
The men exchanged worried glances with one another.
Rotcar tried to play it cool, in spite of the beads of sweat forming on his forehead “Wait, are you trying to say you’re this Luffa character?”
“I’m trying to say,” she said patiently, “that maybe you should think very hard about who you’ve seen pass through this place. Because I’ll be asking around in a few minutes, and I want you to have a chance to gather your thoughts.”
“Okay, that’s enough!” Zottle yelled, leaping up from his stool. "I don’t know what your game is, girlie, but I killed the Wyvern at the festival a few years back. And I killed a dozen Saiyans to win the right. You think you can come here and tell ghost stories and psyche me out because I’m a little thick, right? Well maybe I’m not as smart as Rotcar and Sherrid, but I know I’m more than a match for you.“
The woman got up from her own stool and regarded the big man with cold, predatory eyes. "Is that your answer then?” she asked cheerfully. "I needed to make an example out of someone, and I want to he sure that person didn’t have any useful information.“
Zottle wanted to tell her to stuff it, and his companions were about to warn him that this was no ordinary Saiyan female. They didn’t know what her secret was, but they had decided it was no bluff. But before any of them could react, they were engulfed in a golden light.
When it had faded, the woman remained before them, but her black hair now glowed an unearthly yellow, and her once dark eyes now burned with a furious green. A golden aura flashed and pulsed across her body.
The other Saiyans at the festival all stopped whatever they were doing and turned to see what had happened. Even the Wyvern, imperiled as it was, forgot itself, and gave in to curiosity.
Luffa stood passively before them all. Without warning, she threw a left punch into Zottle’s abdomen. It wasn’t enough to kill him, but he immediately dropped to the ground and gasped in pain.
"I’m looking for someone,” she shouted for all to hear. "You’re all going to tell me what you know. I’ll know if you’re lying. And if you resist me… well…“ she gestured to the massive Saiyan laying at her feet.
"It’s Luffa,” cried one of the Saiyans in the crowd.
“Kill the impostor!” cried another. The sentiment seemed to carry throughout the mob.
Luffa smiled and raised her hand to beckon them toward her.
Beyond the crater where the Saiyans held their festival, Vedevian shepherds reported hearing the sounds of a full-scale battle. But what had disturbed them most, they all said, was the sound they heard just before the combat began: a blood-curdling laugh from a single Saiyan woman.