The life of a Saiyan could be counted in battles won, a worthy warrior might life through dozens or more, a lesser warrior might not get to double figures. Prince Fasa was one of the mighty, he was King Vegeta’s little brother, though the throne was never on his agenda. Nor was captaincy, that he left that to Nappa.
All he wanted was to fight, repeatedly he took planets single-handedly, in record time too. His fighting level was over 12,000, one of the highest known at the time. Frieza worried little about Fasa, he was unlikely to pose any threat, and was too focused on fighting to try and get rebellion started. To keep him satisfied, he was enrolled into the Ginyu. The weakest by some margin, though eager to do the dirty jobs his peers would turn their noses up at.
It was a few years before the destruction of Vegeta, that Fasa had a son, Prince Retasu. With a moderate power-level and the royal blood, he was treated and trained well. The Prince intended for his son to replace him in the Ginyu one day, with aspirations of a Saiyan leading the proud unit. This was never to be however, Fasa was killed in combat a year before the rebellion.
A Duugo had started his own small empire, and the Ginyu were sent to quash it. All returned, save Fasa. He was replaced by Guldo soon after.
Retasu was only four when he found out his father was dead, he became a wild young warrior and was deemed ready to be sent out. A Prince’s initiation is different to that of a low level warrior, he was supposed to be sent to a planet with a medium threat. Though King Vegeta sent him elsewhere. He chose a planet with similar conditions to Planet Vegeta, he planned to expand the Saiyan’s base of operations without Frieza’s knowing.
Alone, Retasu appeared in the night’s sky on Mivo’s bright red surface and soon changed into his Oozaru form, destroying all life before he could even count to ten. By the time he grew up, he remembered little of Planet Vegeta, just his uncle, his father, the red planet he was born on. The wild young man was a Saiyan, and he had waited too long. Five years and he was to be joined, not fifteen with no word.
He returned to the pod and set the return course, though there was nothing there when he returned. No one at all. He scouted nearby planets, only to be attacked by the locals and any of Frieza’s troops he made contact with.
The next three years were spent mostly on the run before he found himself and his ship flying through space one minute, and waking on the moon the next.