Chapter 35

He is good," Vegeta told Zarbon as they walked together through the corridors of the palace, "but he is too cautious yet."

"He's not as fond of pain as you are," agreed Zarbon dryly. "He thinks the situation through before acting, as you saw. Obviously he gets that from Bulma."

Vegeta snorted. "I think not. That woman is all impulse."

Zarbon cast a skeptical glance at the smaller man. "Although his abilities are impressive for one so young, you could not have expected a full-out training bout with him yet."

"Perhaps not, although I had hopes," conceded the King. He cocked a brow as he turned his head to look up at Zarbon. "Being too cautious is as dangerous as being too foolhardy. Both will get him just as dead."

"I assure you, I am aware of that. That doesn't mean he needs to be pushed into battle-readiness right this instant."

"Do you think him beyond your capabilities to control? He is nowhere near you. Even if he were, you did well enough by me even after I surpassed you."

"That's because tactics work against brute force. I never quite got that through your thick skull, but I have high hopes that Trunks will be able to learn basic strategy."

Vegeta, who knew perfectly well that his battle tactics were superior to most other Saiyans, acknowledged the jibe with a smirk.

"Apart from ourselves, only a handful of warriors still outrank Trunks on planet," said Zarbon more seriously. "Riiki does, certainly, and young Tamane as well, but very few others. You saw how quick his reactions are. He is aware of himself, which is astonishing for one so young. He's going to be powerful." He did not add, more powerful than you, but the thought lay between them as if voiced aloud.

"Not powerful enough for a very long time," Vegeta responded coolly, and the unspoken subject was shelved. "Bulma is not programming his battle bots below his abilities, is she?"

"A little, but that's more because he's grown in power since the last upgrade than any motherly concern. She's adjusted to the fact that he needs to fight, especially if you decide he can go off planet for missions."

Vegeta scowled darkly. There was no acknowledgment that he now better understood his own father's reluctance to send his only child into battle, only a vague discomfort at the thought of the boy being so far away should he need the aid of a truly powerful warrior. "That he is still far too young for. Even once he is old enough, his mother will argue against it. If he ever did go on a purge, Bulma would — I believe the expression on Chikyuu is 'have a cow,' or something equally colorful."

"She does that when you go off planet," Zarbon pointed out. "If Trunks heads out to battle, I think she will be having something far larger. What were those big water mammals called on Chikyuu? Orcas, or something?"

There was a minute lessening of the King's scowl. "Heh, yes, she was always comparing herself to a whale when she was pregnant."

"There really is no need for you to go off planet, you know. You could import another trainer from Freeza's quadrant of space for your own practice. There are several mercenaries in his forces who would be —" (Zarbon paused, seeing the thunderclouds gathering on Vegeta's face, and amended his original statement) "almost a match for you. I'm sure I could ask —"

He was interrupted. "Y'know," Vegeta said, pleasantly, "I intensely dislike it whenever you bring up Freeza."

"You don't understand his true power, Vegeta. I've seen him in battle. He is—"

Zarbon paused, searching for a word. Vegeta snapped, all affability gone, "I do not care what he is, Zarbon. I will outmatch him. Just I outmatched you, baka."

"We were not that far apart to begin with," was Zarbon's dry response. But he looked at the gathering scowl on Vegeta's visage and spoke no more of Freeza.

_______________________________________________________

Zenza was still bored. She was also irritated, because neither of her brothers would mind-speak with her. It wasn't as if Shiruko was even doing anything. He was just standing there with his arms folded, somehow managing to appear impassive and cross at the same time. The other guards, however, were in small groups talking in low voices. Youkan at least looked busy. He was near the Queen's captain, speaking animatedly to a couple of the palace guardsmen. From the snatches Zenza heard at the beginning of the conversation, Youkan knew these warriors from his time in the off-world forces. The rest of the words made little sense to her, concerning ki control and the manipulation of defensive postures. The little girl knew nothing of defense (as Zarbon often pointed out), because offense was all a true warrior needed. Shiruko's scorn of the off-world forces was well deserved, she thought, if it encouraged warriors to hide behind 'defense.'

She didn't understand what about the stare-down between the King and the Heir deserved such attention. The half-second of interest at the end had not been worth the sheer tedium of what went before. Yet the various guardsmen were still acting as if it was the most thrilling thing they had ever seen.

At least something was happening now. Trunks was training against a little drone, darting around the stadium at speeds so fast she could just barely follow him, and that only because she had watched him do this repeatedly over the past two years. The drone itself didn't move that much, but its tracking ability was good and every now and again it squeezed off a shot that intersected the Prince's path, forcing the boy into a mid-air correction. It hadn't managed to blast the Prince out of the sky yet, but it had come close enough a couple of times to give Zenza hope. Trunks' ki blasts hit true more often (and it was funny when they went astray since guards had to scramble out of the way or risk being vaporized), but the drone was programmed to deflect the strikes and so far had not suffered any damage.

It was less boring than watching a staring contest, but Zenza was an active little girl and could not find much entertainment in other people's training. Say what one would about Zarbon (and Zenza always had a lot to say about Zarbon when she returned from her play dates, much to her mother's amusement), during non-public training sessions he worked with her as much as he did Trunks. Her ki was not much different from her brothers' when they were a similar age, but thanks to Zarbon's drills her basic technique was much stronger.

She was sure she could do better than the Prince against the drone. The boy kept his distance from it, concentrating on evasive maneuvers. Zenza was convinced that she would have already taken it apart several times over with her bare hands. The fact that destruction was not the object of the training was lost on her; she was Saiyan, and destroying inconvenient things was what Saiyans did.

There was a murmur of noise near the stadium's entrance. Someone was entering the stadium from the palace's side, and the watching guards were reacting with whispers. Thinking the King might have returned for more, Zenza bounced up from her seat for a better look.

It was not the King.

Gasping, Zenza flung herself back down, hoping she was compressed enough to be invisible and wishing one of her brothers were closer so she could hide behind him. Her distress was palpable to her relatives. Steady, came Shiruko's voice in her mind, while Youkan's head swung towards her, his expression alert as he quickly scanned the area near her seat for what disturbed her.

In the shadows, the Queen's captain touched fingers to his scouter and spoke into it briefly, too quietly for Zenza to hear.

Not that she was listening. It wasn't because she was frightened, of course. Saiyans didn't get frightened. It was just that, even though her involuntary trip to the camps had been a long time ago, and despite the fact that she had taken training trips with her mother since, Commander Nappa's presence still made her nervous.

_______________________________________________________

The atmosphere in the stadium changed with the arrival of the Commander of the Armed Forces. Youkan had been in Nappa's presence several times since his reassignment to the King's guards, but his previous encounters with the Commander did not carry the edge of tension that suddenly permeated the arena. At first he was distracted by Zenza's sudden terror. He was still trying to discover what had frightened her so badly when he heard Captain Radditz speak two clipped words into his scouter: "Tamane. Come."

Tamane—? Queen's Lieutenant Tamane was the highest ranked fighter in all the combined Guards. Now truly alarmed, Youkan began visibly scanning the area, one hand held to his scouter, checking parameters as he twisted his head to check the upper reaches of the stadium. There was nothing he could discern. Baffled, Youkan slid his eyes sideways to try and catch his brother's gaze, but Shiruko was standing at rigid attention. After that brief mental whisper to their sister, the King's Lieutenant shut himself off to his siblings. No clues as to what was going on could be gleamed from Shiruko's closed expression.

The Prince, Youkan noticed, had ceased his training battle against the robot. Casually crossing his arms, the little boy drifted until he was right in front of Zenza's seat, hovering several feet off the ground as he watched the Commander's approach with cool eyes.

A huge white smile split Nappa's face as he espied the Heir. He stomped into the arena's center. "Ah, the boy and his little shadow." At his words, Zenza snarled and sat up straighter; evidently the 'shadow' comment was directed at her, and it was not something she took as a compliment. "Not quite what I was expecting." The Commander turned his head, making a show of looking around the arena's staging area. "I heard Vegeta was training here."

"I am," the Heir responded mildly. "Or I was before you showed up."

Youkan blinked. There was a level of subtle sarcasm and hostility in the simple remark that he did not expect in one so young. The tension surrounding the arena, he finally realized, was directed at the Commander himself. Even more puzzled, Youkan extended a questioning mental tendril towards his brother. Nothing. Shiruko was completely focused on the Commander.

Youkan glanced again at the Queen's Captain. Radditz was watching the Commander with shadowed eyes; Youkan couldn't tell what he was thinking. An unexpected blast of decompressed air whipped Radditz's long mane to the side, then Lieutenant Tamane stood slightly behind his captain, arms folded, expression carefully blank, gaze centered on the Commander in eerie imitation of his captain.

The focus of all this concentrated attention laughed in a jovial manner. "Not you," the Commander said to the young Prince, giving no indication that he understood he was being mocked. "Your father. I haven't seen him train in years, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to see if all his off-world jaunts have made him stronger."

"I'm sure my father would be happy to demonstrate his strength, but you've just missed him," said the Heir. His head tilted to the side, alien blue eyes narrowing in such a way that, in spite of the very different coloring, the resemblance between father and son was suddenly quite pronounced. "Liaison Zarbon went with him, so there's no one for you to play with at the moment."

"The liaison left you here alone?" Judging by his reaction, this information interested Nappa a great deal. His smile took on a feral quality as he continued to gaze at the Heir. Setting a closed fist against the palm of the opposite hand, he cracked his knuckles.

The Heir directed a sidelong glance towards the Queen's Captain. Radditz's mouth slid up at one corner, although there was no visible amusement in his face. "The King required Zarbon's presence," the Captain said in a neutral tone. "He left his personal guards here, and the Queen's guards are present as well. The Heir is hardly alone."

Nappa tsk'd. "Neglecting the Heir's training in such a way, and on a stadium day no less! Disgraceful."

Tamane said, very quietly and obviously meant only for his captain's ears, "He just doesn't learn, does he?" Radditz did smirk at that, although he quickly brought his expression back under control.

"My trainer could hardly refuse my father," pointed out the Prince.

There was a faint emphasis on the word 'trainer.' Youkan's eyes widened. He knew that, traditionally, the Commander of the Armed Forces was in charge of the Heir's training. He had also heard rumors when he had been in the off-world forces about a physical confrontation between the Commander and the Heir that ended poorly for Nappa. Being in near-constant battle meant gossip about home-world politics received short shrift, so Youkan did not pay much attention to it at the time. Suddenly, however, the strange watchful attitude of the Queen's Guards and the barbed conversation between the Heir and the Commander made more sense. Not sure what his role as a King's Guard was in this little drama, Youkan moved closer to his brother, hoping to take his cues from Shiruko's behavior.

"He left you with this thing?" Nappa gestured towards the little drone, which was sitting passively not far away as it waited for the next attack. "This is no true training, my Prince."

The Prince said with cold finality, "I'm not going to the camps. Not ever. Deal with it."

"Even the little shadow has taken training trips there," pointed out Nappa. There was no mistaking the malicious undertone to his comments now.

Zenza sniffed. "It's not like it's really 'training.' Deer put up more of a fight." Shiruko frowned; Zenza physically jumped from the force of the mental command directed at her and hastily added, "Sir!"

Shocked, Youkan had to swallow hard. He barely remembered his training in the camps, but he was sure he had been older than five when he made his first kills. The thought that his baby sister had already had to endure that experience made him nauseous.

Oddly, he didn't recall revulsion being the predominant emotion at the time, just as he didn't recall being especially sentimental about any of his siblings when he was a child. But that was not something to be considered at the moment…

"Anything she considers boring isn't going to challenge me," pointed out the Heir. Zenza glared at his back. Anger had made her forget her fear. Youkan wondered if that was a deliberate tactic on the young Prince's part.

He was wondering a few things. Mostly, however, Youkan was wondering at his incredible bad luck. One week in the King's Guards, and not only had he been late for his first time escorting the King, now he had to decide who to side with should it come to a fight: the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces, Youkan's former superior officer during his off world stint, or the Heir, who like all Heirs before him held no acknowledged rank until his confirmation ceremony. The other King's Guards in the area, including Youkan's own brother, did not appear inclined to interfere, and despite the watchfulness of a couple of their officers, even the Queen's Guards gave no indication that they would act except to preserve the Prince's life. He didn't even want to think about the number of demerits he would rack up should he make the wrong choice…

He need not have worried. As it happened, the Heir was well able to contain the situation himself.

"Nappa," said the Heir. "This is me shooting a slave." Fiery sparks flew from his fingers and struck the edge of Nappa's cape. It was a tiny pin-light of a ki strike. The Commander-in-Chief didn't immediately react. Instead he stared quizzically at the little boy as the end of his cape smoked, not noticing his garment was alight until the flame reached the ceremonial gold thread near cape's hem. Evidently that was more flammable than the rest of the material, because the trim went up with a dramatic 'whoosh' and Nappa was suddenly surrounded by a circle of flame. Startled, he squirmed to look over his shoulder and tried to pat the fire out with his hands, but his gyrations only succeeded in fanning the flames.

Ignoring Nappa's dilemma entirely, the Prince continued, "This is me shooting a drone." Whirling in mid-air, the Heir sent out a thick phalanx of pure ki. The little machine spun away before spitting out its own explosive spike of energy. Instead of moving out of its path as he usually did, Trunks threw his hands, palms out, towards the blast. The incoming power shimmered a few centimeters before scorching his skin, showing the curve of a ki shield in front of the boy. Trunks shoved up with one hand. The machine's blast arched into the sky, disappearing in the distance with a tiny twinkle.

The Heir crossed his arms again and spoke mildly. "Now. Which gives me a better workout, the machine that doesn't just sit there and let me hit it, or the guy running around in circles with his cape on fire?" Turning his head, he addressed the Queen's Captain. "I can't do anything else until my trainer is finished with my father. Is Chieftain Nira ready to take Zenza back?" After touching a hand to his scouter, Radditz nodded in the affirmative. The Queen's Captain made no attempt to hide his amusement at Nappa's predicament.

Youkan grinned appreciatively as the Heir's entourage exited. The Prince's accent was Saiyan, but the smooth-toned cutting sarcasm had been pure Zarbon. "He's clever," he said in an aside to Shiruko.

"Yes," his older brother responded flatly, "isn't he."