Chapter 22

Bulma was subdued after the gravity chamber incident, treating Vegeta with a civility bordering on indifference during their meetings. This irked the Prince so much he tried to goad her into another shouting match. It took Yamcha's name to do it — she exploded into sputtering obscenities when he asked where her guard was — but her reaction to the Earth warrior's mention so unnerved Vegeta that he went cold in his turn.

Bulma's lack of response to most of his barbs made Zarbon's absence more pronounced.

Vegeta was never at any time conscious of missing his aide. But a dozen times a day he turned his head to address an aside to Zarbon, and Zarbon, who in fifteen years very seldom left his side, was simply not there.

Radditz was not even close to a substitute. He rarely talked to the Prince, remaining silent unless Vegeta spoke to him first, and he never responded with a sarcastic sally or a sotto-voce comment when Vegeta did speak to him. Vegeta finally ordered him to stay away; and, much to his annoyance, Radditz did.

Nor was Kakarott a replacement. The Prince sparred with Bardock's other son daily, fighting him at a level equivalent to Zarbon's mammalian form, but, like his brother, Kakarott was not inclined toward sardonic rejoinders. Vegeta would snap at him, and Kakarott would blink once or twice, tilt his head, then resume sparring, nothing in his face or manner indicating (thought Vegeta viciously) anything approaching comprehension. As physically satisfying as the bouts were, they left Vegeta mentally frustrated.

So it was that Vegeta was in no mood to be trifled with when the communication screen Zarbon packed for him flared into activity late one night, jarring the Prince awake.

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Radditz was sound asleep when Vegeta knocked on his door (hard enough to slam it off its hinges and into the opposite wall), snarling that he didn't know how the hell he had become some worthless warrior's messenger boy. Yawning, saluting and apologizing simultaneously, Radditz stumbled after him back to the Prince's quarters, where the image on the com screen startled him to full consciousness. "Father? What the hell—?"

"Nice to see you, too, brat," responded Bardock in cool amusement.

"What do you want?" snapped Radditz, suddenly awake and more than irritated.

"I need a reason to check on my son? I get back to the planet and find a dozen reports saying you're dead, another dozen saying you're mortally wounded, and then this announcement that you're suddenly an Elite and you've usurped Nappa's role as royal nursemaid. Forgive me if I want to hear what's going on from you personally."

Radditz winced, but managed not to turn and look at Vegeta. "Your monitor not working? I'm fine," he said, shortly.

Bardock narrowed his eyes. "Yes, you do seem to have that obnoxious tone that comes with higher ki levels," he noted, dispassionately. Radditz heard a grunt from the shadows behind him, which he sincerely hoped meant the Prince was finding the conversation entertaining and not treasonous. "Nice to know your power finally caught up to your personality," Bardock added, looking at his son with his usual mixture of amusement and contempt.

"If you've satisfied yourself as to my existence..." hinted Radditz, just below a snarl.

Bardock gave him a long, steady stare that made Radditz fight the urge to squirm. "Anything about Chikyuu you'd like to share with your dear, old father?" the squad commander suggested.

"No," Radditz said, flatly.

"Kakarott," prompted the Prince from behind him.

Radditz came very close to telling Vegeta to mind his own bloody business. He had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to stifle the retort. "Yes," agreed Bardock, "what about Kakarott? There's no mention of him in any of the reports Nappa filed. He was the reason for including Chikyuu in this little pleasure cruise you've been engaged on."

"Oh, you'd be proud of my baby brother," snapped Radditz. "He has your looks and Mother's traitorous tendencies. He even breeds inappropriately. Quite the best of both of you."

"Your mother," said Bardock, coldly, "is a very valuable Saiyan warrior, not a traitor."

"No, just an oathbreaker. Forgive me if I fail to see the difference."

Bardock's voice went soft. "Do you remember the penalty for falsely accusing someone of that, boy?" Radditz did not reply. Bardock continued after a minute, "I excuse your staggering ignorance. In any case, your mother was released from her oath. Bonded warriors can't serve in the King's Guard, Radditz; remember?"

Radditz was painfully aware of the Prince behind him. All he needed to ruin his own on-world career was to remind Vegeta that he came from a line that bonded; his periodic ruts were enough of a hindrance. "You two are always finding excuses for your weakness," he growled.

Bardock started to reply with rare heat, but "Oh, don't give into the brat's ceaseless whining," came a low, rough voice from off the screen. Radditz stiffened, his hair beginning to puff out into exaggerated spikes, as the voice continued with supreme disinterest, "We both know what our son 'the guardsman' thinks. I want to hear about Kakarott. What's this about breeding?"

"What's she doing there?" spat Radditz.

After an incredulous stare, "She's my wife, baka," replied Bardock, speaking slowly as if Radditz were as brain-damaged as his younger brother. "She does wander into my private quarters from time to time. For which you should be supremely grateful, no?"

"Kakarott," insisted the off-screen voice.

"There is no 'Kakarott,'" Radditz snarled. "There's a mental Saiyan named 'Goku' who let the humans take his tail, married one of their bitches and spawned a hybrid monstrosity. 'Goku' is so convinced he belongs here he's aligned himself with their warriors against his own kind. There's nothing left of 'Kakarott,' Father."

Bardock stared out of the screen, his brows drawn together, thoughtfully. "Why did we bother reproducing again?" sighed the off-screen voice.

"That's a good question!" snapped Radditz.

Bardock focused in on him suddenly, his eyes hard. "You're obviously ill-prepared for this," he said, coldly. "I expect a full and comprehensive report on your brother and my grandchild tomorrow."

Radditz sputtered in indignation. "You expect—! Listen, you third class loser, do not presume to expect anything of me! I am one of the Palace Guards! Dammit, I'm an Elite now; I could become one of the King's Guards! You have no authority—!"

Something in Bardock's eyes flashed. Radditz found further words refused to leave his throat. "Tomorrow," his sire said again. The screen went blank.

Grimacing, Radditz tapped the disconnect key. Turning in the chair, he saw Vegeta regarding him with an expression that was almost — sympathetic. "The conversations with my father always go about like that, too," the Prince said.

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It was a good thing for the continuing existence of her marriage, thought Chi-chi, that one of them understood the concept of compromise. The second afternoon after Goku happily staggered back from one of his 'sparring' sessions with Vegeta, Chi-chi grabbed him by the ear, marched him outside, stripped him down and all but threw him into the wood-heated metal tub the family bathed in. She scrubbed at his cuts and bruises while Goku yelped and wriggled and gave her that pathetic, big-eyed look that she was totally immune to when she was this angry. "You," Chi-chi said, sweetly, as she held her husband under the near-scalding water, rubbing his scalp with soap, "are setting a horrible example for Gohan. You're taking off at all hours of the day—"

"Just mornings," gasped Goku as he surfaced.

Chi-chi pushed him back under. "—and coming back with your clothes all ripped, covered with bruises and cuts. Gohan's going to get the idea that fighting is okay, Goku."

"We're not fighting," wheezed Goku, inhaling frantically as he bobbed back to the surface.

Fisting one hand in his coarse hair, Chi-chi dragged his head over the side of the tub and showed him the shredded remains of his gi. "Goku, I don't care what you call it. You're coming home in tatters and," she told him, grimly, "it's going to stop."

After hanging over the side gasping for air, Goku offered a plan. He would take a change of clothes so that he didn't show up in front of Gohan looking like he had been in a fight, he promised. He would stop and bathe off the blood in one of the nearby streams or lakes, he vowed. He would do whatever she wanted, he screamed, if she would just let go of his hair—!

"That's a good idea," said Chi-chi serenely as she released her death grip on his ebony locks. She crossed her arms and smiled down into Goku's wheezing face. "Because we don't want to do anything that might distract Gohan from his studies, do we?"

The very next day Goku stashed jeans and a Capsule Corporation jacket next to the pond he liked to fish in before flying off to meet Vegeta, setting up a pattern that found him absent for most of the morning, returning around lunch time looking damp and disheveled, usually with fish for dinner in hand. And, although she still disapproved of his daily sparring matches, Chi-chi could tell that her husband was enjoying the bouts. She grumbled as she assembled and stitched new gis on almost a daily basis, but she also took the time to make Goku some of his favorite fish dishes to show that she knew he was trying.

So she was not too upset when she heard the familiar rush of air over the top of the house, even though she looked at the clock and saw Goku was earlier than usual, which meant she would have to hurry the noon meal. "Tell your father lunch won't be ready for an hour," Chi-chi told Gohan as the boy suddenly materialized in the doorway. "I just put the rice on."

Gohan raced through the kitchen, heading for the door that led outside. "That's not Daddy," he threw over his shoulder.

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The brat exploded out of the door just as he tapped down. Crossing his arms, Radditz tucked his chin to look at Gohan, brows beetling. The first time they met, Gohan had not stopped crying and wailing for his 'Mommy.' The brat had found some backbone in the last few weeks. Now the little boy stood with his feet wide-set, fists clenched, one arm raised in front of his chest in a classic defensive position. His tail, however, was whipping around; a tempting target. Someone needed to tell the little hybrid there was a reason for keeping certain appendages close to the body. "Settle down, brat," said Radditz, amused. "I'm not here to fight."

"You're not going to hurt Mommy," the boy announced.

Radditz glanced over the boy's head. The door had slammed back after Gohan, but the top half was being held open by a dark-eyed woman who was looking at him without any particular welcome, but without open hostility either. She was slender as a bird; he thought her bones might break as easily. "Hurt such a delicate creature? Of course not. Where are your manners, brat? Introduce me to the pretty lady."

"We've met," said the woman, smiling although her eyes were watchful. "You were in that tank thing at the time. I'm Chi-chi, Goku's wife." She held out one hand; he gazed at it thoughtfully. After a pause, she dropped it and continued with, "Goku isn't here right now. He'll be back for lunch in a bit. Do you want to come in and wait?"

"Mom!" hissed the brat in an undertone.

Radditz narrowed his eyes at his nephew and smirked. "Sure," he said.

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It was a good thing rice was cheap, thought Chi-chi as she threw on another pot. It was enough of a budgetary strain feeding Goku and Gohan; a third Saiyan was going to do serious damage to her larder. Hopefully that's all he's going to damage. Chi-chi wasn't sure the kitchen chairs would stand up to Radditz's weight, and she didn't like the martial light in her son's eyes.

As if reading her thoughts, "You've been training," her brother-in-law said to Gohan, lazily.

Chi-chi's lips compressed, and she concentrated on stirring pots that didn't need stirring. "Some," replied Gohan, shortly.

"We'll have to do some sparring while I'm on Earth."

Chi-chi felt her son's eyes on her back. "We'll see."

"Did you finish your homework?" Chi-chi asked him, her tone a strong hint.

"Yes," said Gohan, flatly. "I showed it to you, remember?"

Glancing over her shoulder, Chi-chi grimaced slightly. Gohan was a sweet child, but he had been stubborn the last few weeks. Clearly getting him out of the way so she could lay down some ground rules with Radditz was not going to happen today. Her son met her eyes, and she recognized the same determined spark she saw in Goku's during tournament bouts. Her grimace changed to a rueful twist of her lips. Ah, what a pair of boys I have! I was a finalist at the Budokai; I'm probably the strongest non-ki-using fighter on the planet. When are they going to realize I can take care of myself?

'Never' was the probable answer to that, she decided a second later as Gohan's head shot around and he stared through the open door. Once again Chi-chi heard the 'whoosh' of displaced air over her home. Glancing at the clock, she sighed. Goku was still early. She followed her son's gaze and saw Goku hovering a few feet off the ground.

Goku hadn't bothered to change, noticed Chi-chi, which was annoying enough normally, but especially aggravating when company was present. His gi had been ripped off one shoulder, revealing the weighted blue undershirt, and he had a cut under one eye that was dripping blood across his cheek. Even though the wound looked deep and nasty, Chi-chi knew it would heal within hours and that Goku would head off the next day with a completely unmarked face. It took a lot to seriously damage her husband.

He was watching Radditz with a steady, cool gaze. "Brother," the other man greeted him, mockery dripping off the single word.

"Radditz," returned Goku, politely. He settled gently to the ground after a quick, assessing glance toward Chi-chi.

Radditz stood up, smiling a rather dangerous-looking smile, and went outside to stand next to Goku. "Vegeta went easy on you, I see," the Saiyan said.

After another long look at the man who towered over him, Goku visibly relaxed. "He doesn't fight me at full strength," he replied in a more natural voice. "Just enough to keep himself sharp."

Radditz snorted. "If he fought you at full strength, you'd be a smear, wouldn't you?" he said in contempt. "It's a stunning honor he lowers himself to your level at all."

Gohan bristled at the implied insult, but Chi-chi saw one of Goku's clenched hands flatten out, a signal to remain calm, and the little boy subsided. "Are you here for lunch?" Goku asked Radditz. "I have to wash up before Chi-chi will let me near the table. Why don't you come with me?"

The other man shrugged. "Lead the way."

"Half an hour," Goku promised Chi-chi.

"Lunch might be ready then," she replied, sharply. Goku gave her one of those apologetic under-the-bangs looks, then beckoned to Radditz and lifted off. Gohan stepped outside, watching until the two men disappeared over the horizon. "Gohan, do you want to set the table?" she asked, trying to distract him.

Gohan looked at her, wide-eyed. "Um...I'm going to go...get some firewood! Yes, firewood; then I'll-set-the-table-bye!"

"Gohan—"

Her son vanished. Another one of the drawbacks of teaching him martial arts, thought Chi-chi; now Gohan moved a lot faster than she could. "—we have plenty of firewood," she sighed to the empty air, then smiled. It was nice that her two boys tried to take such good care of her. Humming, she went back into the cottage.

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Gohan ran through the forest, between thick-trunked trees and through green boughs. He barely avoided the collision when one of the green things moved in front of him. "Pay attention, kid," said Piccolo. "I could've had you dead to rights there. And I do mean dead."

"Uncle Radditz—" gasped Gohan. He leaned over and put his hands on his knees, dragging in air.

"Is no big deal, kid. Why the sudden worry about him?"

"He almost took me away," said Gohan in a small voice. "And then I thought that might be fun, going into outer space and seeing where Daddy was from and all, but I know about where he comes from now, and I don't want to go there. Not without Mommy and Daddy. And not unless you can come, too."

Piccolo folded his arms and looked down at the boy, one corner of his mouth turned up. "Kid, I don't think I'll be going any where with either of your parents," he told Gohan. "Besides, Radditz can't just grab you and cart you off. There's a bunch of us who will stop him. You can stop him yourself now."

Gohan's voice dropped further. It took much of Piccolo's extra-sensitive hearing to pick up the mutter. "He could ask Vegeta. I couldn't stop Vegeta."

About to say Vegeta wasn't likely to do something just because an underling asked him, Piccolo saw the real fear in Gohan's eyes. "Tell you what," he said after a considering pause. "You head back and have a nice meal with Uncle Radi-kens, and I'll come up with a plan to deal with Prince Vegetable. We'll meet back here tomorrow, and I'll tell you all about it. Okay?"

Gohan looked up at him adoringly. "Okay!"

Piccolo smiled without any of his usual mockery, and reminded the boy to take some firewood back to his mother. The smile faded as soon as Gohan was out of sight. Crossing his arms, Piccolo levitated, folding his legs underneath himself as he began to mentally prepare for the coming ordeal.

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As human as he seemed (and the lack of a tail, thought Radditz, made his brother seem very human indeed), Kakarott still had one or two traits that were distinctly Saiyan. He had, apparently, inherited the love Saiyans had for splashing around in fresh water, and (Radditz continued in amusement as a large fish was thrown onto the bank next to him) he instinctively knew how to hunt. Folding an elbow against one knee and propping his chin on his palm, Radditz contemplated his brother as the other man waded out of the pond, shaking the moisture out of his thick, spiky hair. Turning his back to Radditz, Kakarott grabbed the fish, killing it with a quick blow to the head. Radditz got a plain look at the broad, circular scar just above the curve of Kakarott's buttocks. Repressing a shudder, he turned his eyes away as every muscle in his own tail tensed and twitched.

Kakarott pulled a package from behind a bush, opened it, and began to dress in some of those all-encompassing human clothes. "How are you liking Earth?" he asked, tugging on a jacket.

Radditz snorted. "It's dull, brother. Dull beyond belief. How do you survive here, Kakarott? Don't you yearn for the hunt?"

"I hunt," said Kakarott.

"What, big, soft fish that can't fight back? That's not real hunting, Kakarott."

"Sorry," Kakarott said, looking down at him with those big eyes, like and yet unlike Bardock's. "I'm afraid purging planets of all lifeforms has no appeal for me. In fact, the greater challenge would be protecting planets, wouldn't it? Maybe you should give that a try."

Radditz gazed up into that familiar face with all of its unfamiliar expressions, feeling completely divorced from reality. "You would sacrifice yourself for these humans, wouldn't you? Why are you so attached to these weaklings? They can't be any use to you."

"My family's here, Radditz."

Radditz's response was incredulous. "Feh. You're bonded to that human female, aren't you? Unbelievable. You might as well stay on this planet, 'brother;' they have no use for your weak sort on Vejiitasei. You'd just be relegated to the off-world forces anyway. You can't get too much more off-world than Chikyuu, can you?"

After blinking in non-comprehension, Kakarott said simply, "I love Chi-chi. Why is that a problem?"

Radditz glanced around quickly, as if making sure no one had overheard his brother. "Weak and a fool," he snarled, a disbelieving note in his voice. "Oh, you are Bardock's son, all right. But don't think I'm afflicted with your insanity."

"Bardock?"

"Our father, baka. He's going to be very ashamed when I tell what you've become."

"He can't be a very good father, then. I would never be ashamed of my son," said Kakarott, a response that left Radditz nonplussed. Crouching down to his level, Kakarott stared at him with his father's eyes and asked in his father's voice, "Do you really think Saiyans are so untouched by emotion? Are you?"

And Radditz was thrown back, just for a second, to the only time he had ever witnessed raw, violent, naked passion from a Saiyan. On Uchuun.

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He was miles away, but he knew, if only from the garbled reports over his scouter, when Zarbon went down. He raced to the scene meaning to take on whoever had injured the alien. It proved unnecessary. Vegeta was kneeling next to Zarbon's body. Screaming. Primally. And the aura that surrounded him as power built up was one Radditz had never seen the Prince exhibit before or since, shimmering a clear, gold-flecked red. Clouds collided and lightening flashed overhead as local weather patterns warped; small pebbles and whirls of dirt twitched and spun around the Prince. Then Vegeta got to his feet, threw out his arms, and an expanding edge of ki energy exploded from him on all sides, throwing those around him to the ground, killing most of them, ally and enemy alike. Saiyan scouters, set to the level Vegeta obtained after defeating Zarbon in the arena, exploded.

Vegeta uttered his name in a fell, cool voice, and, terrified, trembling, Radditz approached his Prince. He looked into eyes where anger and a terrible, terrible grief merged. "Take Zarbon to the ship," Vegeta said. "If he dies, you die. Everyone dies."

Then he took off after the native champion who felled Zarbon. The battle that ensued, although Radditz did not witness it, was said to surpass that one in the arena, which was certainly the greatest fight any living Saiyan had seen until then. The Prince's ki flared to unbelievable levels, levels that, if maintained, would have put him into Ginyuu squad league. As it was, the end of the fight found his ki stabilizing a full 5,000 clicks over what it had been before. Although he continued to improve by increments since then, it was essentially the same high fighting power Vegeta maintained to this day.

But this fight was only spoken of in whispers. And it was here that the rumors started, really, because why would the Prince exhibit such unseemly emotion over a mercenary, a non-Saiyan at that, unless he were bonded to the alien? The mere suggestion that such a crippling weakness existed in the House of Vejiitasei was treason — and so, the greatest battle ever witnessed by Saiyan ground troops was never discussed except furtively.

It was the only explanation that made any sense to Radditz as well. However, "Don't be an idiot," Zarbon said irritably to him when he could — Zarbon was always a bit snippy after getting out of the regeneration tank. "My kind don't do that animalistic stuff. Your kind could have it bred out in two generations if you weren't all so undisciplined." Radditz believed him, if only because the alien was completely clueless. He watched the two carefully for some time, nonetheless, but saw nothing that suggested anything like what he witnessed between his parents. And, while his own mind was eased, the quickly spreading rumors could not be stopped.

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"Fool," Radditz snapped after a pause. "You have no idea what Saiyans do and don't feel."

Watching the tell-tale fluctuations in his brother's aura, Goku sighed and said, "I suppose not. Let's go eat, Radditz."

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Radditz landed at the Capsule Corporation, more shaken than he would like to admit by his afternoon with his brother's family. He was met by a scowling Vegeta. "If you're going to talk to your father, you are going to do it now," the Prince told him. "I don't care to be wakened in the middle of the night again just because it's a convenient time for some third-class squad leader to call." Grimacing, Radditz went into the Prince's quarters and tapped out the necessary commands on the com unit.

"I've been doing some research," Bardock greeted his son.

Sliding his eyes to surreptitiously glance over his shoulder at Vegeta's silent figure in the background, "Research?" Radditz queried.

Bardock gazed back at him, sardonically. "Yes, research. Y'know, you enter a keyword, you tell the computer to look for something—"

"I grasp the concept," snapped Radditz.

"Don't give in to the brat's baiting," he heard his mother's voice from offscreen. Bardock glanced at her, one corner of his mouth curving up, that forbidden expression that made Radditz feel rather queasy crossing his features, then said to his son, "I find no records of offspring resulting from matings between Saiyans and other species. You are certain Kakarott's mate is from Chikyuu? Perhaps one of the other missing infants found her way there."

"I met her today. She's definitely not Saiyan. Kakarott," Radditz added, brutally, "is hardly Saiyan himself. If he didn't look like you, I'd think he was an Earthling, too."

"Earthling," murmured Bardock, as if committing the word to memory. "What about the offspring? You mentioned offspring," he reminded Radditz when the other warrior was silent.

The Prince spoke. "The boy has power," he said, indifferently. "He almost killed Nappa, and he helped take down Zarbon. Zarbon claims he still has a headache."

Bardock's eyes flicked to the side again. "Does he look remotely Saiyan?" he asked Radditz.

"Does he have a name?" came his mother's low voice.

"Gohan," replied Radditz. "He has a tail, but he would never pass as one of us. So if you're thinking of drafting him into the squad, forget it. He's too powerful for that, anyway. You're just going to have to accept that no-one of your blood will inherit your squad, Father. What you get," he added, contemptuously, "for breeding out of your class."

"Feh," grunted Bardock after a moment. "I suppose I should just be happy one of my sons is involved with something he can actually breed with."

Radditz bristled, literally, his hair flaring out. But the Prince's voice spoke from behind him, and it was suddenly cold. "Be very careful how you speak of Zarbon in my presence, warrior."

"I did not mention Zarbon, my Prince," replied Bardock, impassively. "Merely noting that although Radditz has reached prime breeding age, and, as an 'Elite,' would have no problem obtaining a wife despite the scarcity of Saiyan females and his own various genetic liabilities, he shows no inclination toward reproducing. Unless there is some 'Earthling' female you want to tell me about?" he added to Radditz.

Radditz swore viciously at his father. "I think we can take that as a 'no,'" said the rough, low voice. "Clearly we took that one off-world at too young an age, Bardock; he has no inkling of what to do with Saiyan females. One could grab his crotch with her tail and he would be completely oblivious." Radditz frantically scrabbled in his mind for fresh insults but, after turning his head to grin at the room's other occupant, Bardock terminated the connection.

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For a few moments after Radditz stalked out, Vegeta regarded the flickering view screen with narrowed eyes. Then, slowly, he moved to sit in front of it and, as if forced, struck a pattern against the touchpad. Folding his arms, he stared at the screen with a touch of defiance in his face.

After a second, the screen resolved into delicate blue features, smooth green hair tied back. "Yes?" said Zarbon, then undisguised pleasure rippled across his face and he smiled. "Vegeta! How good to see you, my Prince." The head made that characteristic, graceful tilt to the side. "Chikyuu seems to be agreeing with you."

Vegeta snorted. "I've never spent so much time under one G in my life. I swear I'm losing muscle mass. And bone mass. And, unquestionably, brain mass."

"Kakarott not keeping you busy?"

"I don't know how," replied Vegeta, "but that tailless freak is in your class. Well, the class you choose to be in, anyway. He has, however, no conversation. Bulma tells me he sustained a serious head injury after he landed here. It shows."

Zarbon's lids lowered. "And how is Bulma?"

Vegeta snorted again, which served as the only answer Zarbon received from him on the subject. "What about you? You are playing nicely with your new friends, aren't you, Zarbon?"

"Oh, yes. The captain and her officers don't mind me, Vegeta; they have that casual attitude toward non-Saiyans that many of the off-world troops possess. Not to say she's happy about it, but she's not about to risk annoying you over it. It's some of the lesser ranks on the command team that are cross. And they're Southerners, like you, so it's hardly surprising they're so bull-headed."

"Baka."

After a pause, Zarbon asked, "Is there something in particular you wanted to talk to me about, my Prince?"

Vegeta turned his gaze to the side, and did not respond.

Zarbon's mouth curved faintly. "Ah, well. You royal types don't need reasons, eh? And it gives me a chance to tell you what a complete idiot Nappa made of himself today. If you want to hear about it, that is."

"I live to hear what an idiot Nappa is," said Vegeta, his tone bored.

Grinning, Zarbon told him anyway.

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Signing off after half an hour spent on complete trivialities, Vegeta told his aide to check back with him before planetfall. "We're just a couple of days away now," Zarbon reminded him. "It should be completely routine. Unless you want me to keep an eye out for any native technology that might be interesting?"

"Absolutely not. I used to think routine purges were boring? Zarbon, nothing is more boring than negotiations. That woman asked me about environmental regulations today. Who ever heard of such a thing?"

"The Minister of the Interior?" suggested Zarbon.

Vegeta sighed. "Zarbon, I don't care what the natives have, don't be suckered into thinking it is worth the tedium of bargaining for it."

Grinning, Zarbon promised to avoid the trap. Ending the conversation, Vegeta leaned back in his chair with a self-satisfied smile. Talking with Zarbon put the Prince in a better mood than he had been in a week; since the whole gravity chamber incident, in fact. The only thing that could further improve his mood would be a good meal. Or a good fight. Or goading Bulma into a shouting match without mentioning what's-his-name...

For a second, he thought the yelling was just in his imagination. Then the Prince's head jerked up. It was not Bulma he was hearing; it was a myriad of voices, shouting in terror. Leaping to his feet, Vegeta ran outside. Bulma's workers, usually ensconced in various buildings, were all over the grounds, staring up at the sky.

Vegeta looked at the figure floating over the Capsule Corporation. The humans (and their fuzzy non-human allies) were screaming and scattering; apparently they knew and feared this stranger. Then he saw the gleam of green skin beneath the white turban, and realized this was no stranger...

Levitating until he was at the same level as the silent watcher, Vegeta regarded the one Zarbon described as a Namekian with a hard smile. The other smiled back, sharp fang-like teeth flashing white. "So," said the green one, "I hear you like to play rougher than Goku does."

"Perhaps."

"So do I," the other assured him.