Chapter Text
Resting against the wall of an alien spaceship, waiting to reach the destination of his very first mission, Folour felt like a fish out of water.
It wasn’t a feeling that made sense. He was a Saiyan warrior, finally in the company of his own race! After growing up as an infiltration baby, sent to dispose of a planet all by himself, he had victoriously returned to Planet Vegeta both alive and unscarred. If anything, he should feel more at home than ever!
And it wasn’t like he was shunned, either. He looked the same as any other Saiyan, with a long furry tail and spiky black hair that mostly stood straight up, and was treated accordingly. ... Which meant that just by returning he got drafted into the intergalactic army all Saiyans were subservient to. That wasn’t a problem, he loved battle and destruction just like anyone else, just …
In the end, the problem lay in his very upbringing. He hadn’t grown up around Saiyans. It felt like everyone around him had been raised and trained on Planet Vegeta, carrying the scars and stories from a life spent in an army. They were ruthless and experienced and oh so good at being Saiyan, and after a life of fighting more-or-less alone Folour struggled to connect with them.
He shook his head with a sigh; thinking about it wouldn’t help anything. The only way to solve his problem was to interact with others, and this may be the best opportunity he had to do so. He wasn’t the only Saiyan on this mission, so befriending his new teammates would be easier than warming up to a whole race at once.
Pushing away from the wall, Folour headed for the main deck. On the way he passed by a few alien creatures, humanoid beings in diverse colors who all wore the same light and snug armor he had been given, but it took some time before he spotted another Saiyan: A tall man with hair like a pinecone centered perfectly atop his head, arms crossed as he finished a conversation with a grunt.
“Excuse me,” Folour began as he walked up to his co-worker, but before he could even introduce himself the other Saiyan snorted derisively.
“What is this, a daycare?” he complained aloud and glared down at the smaller Saiyan. “If you’re gonna ask something, get lost. I’m too busy to nanny low-class weaklings.”
“What-!?” Folour bristled, clenching his fists as any desire for a cordial interaction evaporated. “Who are you calling weakling!? I could kick your ass!”
“Oh yeah? Why don’t we put that to the test?”
As the higher-class saiyan loomed over him Folour tensed in preparation for a fight; but before one could start a purplish soldier with a much too long face hurriedly shoved himself between the two.
“Hey! Hey, no fighting on the ship, come on,” the alien fretfully urged, then took Folour’s arm and gave him a push to the side. “Here, there’s someone you can talk to better over that way, on the bench…”
He wasn’t happy about it, but there was no point in protesting and causing a bigger scene either, so Folour just grumbled as he walked away. The sound of the higher-class warrior muttering about his spinelessness almost made him turn back, but instead he angrily plopped onto the bench he’d been directed to and barely spared a glance for whoever he’d sat down beside.
“Man, high-class warriors are the worst,” the female Saiyan next to him spoke up, leaned forward with her gaze firmly on the tall man. “Acting all high and mighty just because they were spoiled, that guy’s never fought for his life like we have.” Stretching her arms above her head, she glanced over to Folour with a playful smirk. “I bet he’s a wimp, toss him naked onto a new planet and he wouldn’t last a week!”
Folour blinked, the woman now holding all his attention. She looked about his age, with hair tied down into a ponytail that spiked out as if trying to escape its bonds. Most importantly, she was flat-out roasting the man who had upset Folour, and that was something he could definitely get behind. He grinned. “I don't know, he might have good camouflage. His hair looks like the bushes from my planet.”
The other Saiyan burst into laughter. It took her a few seconds to quiet herself down, grinning wide as she leaned closer to Folour and lowered her voice just a little. “Think he’s as smart as one?”
Folour tried with medium success to squash a snorting chuckle. “Doubt it.”
Both Saiyans broke down into laughter, neither able to stop now that they were spurring each other on. Between laughter and little jokes expanding on their new idea of who they quickly dubbed Bushbrain The Saiyan, the two didn’t cease until their giggling caught the ire of Bushbrain himself, who barked over at them with bristling annoyance. “What are you two chattering about over there?!”
“Nothing, don’t worry about it!” the woman shouted back, still half-laughing as she forced herself to calm down. She turned to Folour, leaning back with a grin. “Oh yeah. The name’s Scalli, and yours?”
“Folour.” He relaxed, letting his shoulders slump. With all the joking, introducing himself had completely slipped his mind - and evidently hers too. Scalli raised an eyebrow.
“Folour? That’s kind of a weird name, right?”
“H-Huh? What’s wrong with it?”
“Hmm… I don’t know, really.” Scalli contemplated it for a few moments before shrugging. “I like it though, it’s a good name! Is this your first mission?”
“Yeah… What about you?”
“Heh, you got me. I’m new too!”
As they kept talking, Folour found the two had more to bond over than he anticipated. Scalli had returned only a few days before him, and her age wasn’t far from his own - though they couldn’t determine the exact age difference due to her planet having longer years than his. Even if the environments differed both had faced hardships and strong battles in conquering their planets, learning flight and ki attacks as a part of surviving.
It felt like they had only been talking for a few minutes when the spaceship reached its destination, having to break their conversation off as they were reminded of their orders: Kill the planet’s inhabitants, and don’t destroy too much else.
Since it was his first mission, Folour was one of the last to step out of the ship - and he had barely touched ground when his arm was grabbed, Scalli abruptly yanking him aside.
“Come on!” she grinned, running onward and dragging Folour along. “Let’s team up. We’ll clear out this place much faster than Bushbrain, and show that jackass what us low-class can do!”
“R- right!” As he fumbled and adjusted to running with her, setting off on their first mission together, Folour couldn’t help a sense of warm admiration. He didn’t know exactly what the feeling was called - but in a slightly non-Saiyan move, owing to an upbringing just a little bit out of the norm, Folour was developing a crush.