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The com console flickered just as he was putting on his earrings. Probably Vegeta, Zarbon thought; as requested, he had called the Prince but received no answer and left a brief message. He tapped the console button. "Yes, my Prince?"
"Sorry to disappoint you," said Sashoki, dryly.
"Sash!" Zarbon propped his chin against his wrist, grinning widely at her. "You're back! How was the mission? Are you okay?"
"You always ask the most inane questions. I'm calling you, so the mission must have been a success. You can see me, so I must be okay. And you're always telling me to think!"
"My bad," agreed Zarbon. "You look good, Sash."
"Oh, you're the pretty one here, and we both know it," she snapped with the typical Saiyan abhorrence of compliments. "So--Chikyuu. I hear things."
"They're probably all true," Zarbon acknowledged, wryly. "In fact, they probably don't come close to the truth. It's the single most bizarre place I've been to in my life, and considering where I come from, that's saying something. I have an absolute ton of stuff to tell you, but now's not good. Shouga just called and said this place is hotter than we expected; I have to be planetside with the command team in about fifteen minutes."
"Understood." She looked at him through her spiky bangs, and the resemblance to Yamcha was momentarily pronounced. "Real quick, though; how mad at me are you?"
Dryly, "Well, next time you think something is too much for my delicate psyche, try to remember I was in Freeza's forces for decades, hmmm?" Sashoki's gaze was puzzled. Zarbon fluttered his eyelashes at her, which always made her snort. "Sashoki; you silly girl, you know I don't hold grudges."
Sure enough, she snorted. "You are so not Saiyan," she told him, and signed off.
The scouting report was wrong. Again.
Nappa didn't mind, though. Unlike Chikyuu, Kansoun was of limited resell value, its arid atmosphere restricting the number of clients that would find the climate livable, let alone desirable. Such clients existed; all life-sustaining planets were in some demand; but it would not bring anything close to what a class-M property could command, no matter how pristine it was. Keeping Kansoun intact was not, in Nappa's opinion, a priority.
Which meant he could play some. He didn't get a chance to do that very often; as Commander, he directed most operations from Vejiitasei itself, or from one of the various regional strongholds. He had been at one of the latter when the call came from the King to join Vegeta's mission. Actually being planetside during a battle was a rare luxury for any Elite, since their obligations to the King usually kept them on Vejiitasei. But the Heir's penchant for going off-world also offered unexpected opportunities for the other high-powered warriors of the Saiyan tribes. And the chance to toy with some of the first-class warriors that were showing up on his scouter, thought Nappa, was one he didn't want to pass up.
Smirking, he turned toward the ops station where Captain Shouga and her command team were directing the purging operation. His smile faded when he saw Zarbon amidst the Saiyan officers. The alien was constantly underfoot lately, on the bridge, coming out of the Captain's briefing room at unexpected times, suddenly showing up to go planetside with the command group. At least it had dressed more-or-less appropriately, wearing a blue Saiyan battlesuit several shades darker than its skin and plain armor, although it had on its usual cape. When it turned its head at his approach, long, dark blue drops that almost reached its shoulders swayed. Nappa snorted. So much for appropriate. But the creature's appearance was unimportant; at least with it here, Vegeta was protected from it. The smirk reformed. Feeling content, Nappa crooked a finger at Shouga.
In a career that spanned more than half a century, this had been Shouga's most difficult assignment. While it was an honor, of course, to command the Prince's flagship, it was also a trial. The Prince was unpredictable. One never knew if he would declare a mission to be beneath him and stay on the ship to train or if he would insist on going planetside with only Zarbon to accompany him. The worst was when he stood with his arms folded, haughty face disdainful, refusing to lift a finger as the battle raged around him. Zarbon, at least, was handy during these times; the alien always blasted enemies that got too close to the Prince, which at least meant fewer of the troops had to be sacrificed in Vegeta's protection. A good thing in more than one way, really, since many of the troops disapproved of the Heir's off-world jaunts and counting on them to protect the Prince was an iffy proposition.
Then Nappa approached her, and Shouga remembered there was something much worse than a Prince who went off-world like a common soldier; a noble holding a hereditary position of military authority for which he was absolutely not qualified. She quelled the thought and politely gave her attention to Nappa.
Within an instant of Nappa proclaiming his intentions Shouga was scowling mightily. Concentrating the forces on one continent where they could be targeted and picked off by their ki-wielding enemies was a wasteful, boneheaded move--just the sort of thing a noble would deem acceptable. It was not, however, likely to cost the Saiyans the mission, while going against a nobleman and an Elite would certainly cost the Captain her own life. She turned to confirm the order--but a movement caught her eye. Leaning casually against a nearby tree, his arms folded and his eyes downcast, Zarbon gave a miniscule shake of his head.
Shouga wasted perhaps ten seconds swearing to herself. This was just the sort of thing she feared happening when Vegeta put his favorite in charge. But, even if Zarbon did not possess that awe-inspiring power level that could disintegrate her where she stood, he was the voice of the Prince on this mission and could not be disobeyed. And, besides, she acknowledged ruefully to herself, the alien was right. She tried suggesting to Nappa, as diplomatically as she could, that the Saiyan forces were best used as guerilla units, that concentrating the troops in one area made them targets, that losses would be unprofitable. "Nonsense," said Nappa. "We get all the enemy in one place, then I pick off their strongest fighters. If the third-class squads can't handle what's left, they are not true Saiyans."
Sighing, Zarbon raised his eyes and stood away from the tree. "Commander," he said, "having a single person flit around the continent picking off selected targets one-by-one will take hours. They're scattered and disorganized, while we have squads in strategic positions all over the globe. If we move quickly, we can eliminate their fighters before they join up and become a force to be reckoned with."
"This doesn't concern you."
Zarbon's mouth tightened, but he tried again. "Nappa, I know Saiyans like to attack from behind but there is no point in setting up the troops so you can pop around the planet shooting things in the back. The ground forces will be decimated, and more than likely you'll ruin a perfectly-livable continent. You know this, Commander; you were the one who wanted to clear out Chikyuu without marking it up too badly, remember?"
But Nappa exhibited no interest in logic or recent history. "The troops are expendable," he said. "And you're boring me, creature. Do it," he instructed the Captain.
"No," said Zarbon. "We stick to the original plan."
Nappa gave him a blank stare, then sneered. "Zarbon, you're insane. I don't know how you control Vegeta, but it gives you no right to meddle in Saiyan military matters--"
The alien's eyes sparked, and his hand shot out faster than even Saiyan eyes could track, grabbing Nappa by a shoulder guard, lifting him off the ground, and shaking him violently. "Vegeta," Zarbon snarled between his teeth, "is my Prince, my sovereign lord and my sworn master. I've pledged a life-oath to protect him, and that includes from your treasonous slurs! You will watch how you speak of him to me. On this mission, you will watch how you speak, period. Vegeta has placed me in charge here, Nappa; defy me, and you defy him."
"S-s-stop--" Nappa wrenched out between chattering teeth. Zarbon ceased shaking him, but continue to dangle the Commander a foot off the ground. "You presume too much--!" snarled Nappa, when he could. "You have no authority here!"
Zarbon turned his head, fixing the Captain with that pale, glittering gaze. I really hate this, she thought, but told Nappa, reluctantly, "It's the truth. He is Vegeta's chosen commander on this mission, and he speaks with the Heir's voice. By order of the Prince," she added, formally.
And a murmur rose from the other officers, uttered with various degrees of resentment, but all in agreement-- "By order of the Prince."
Nappa's expression resembled that of a very surprised carp. The alien regarded him, coolly, one corner of his mouth twisted into an amused smirk. Then he released the Commander's shoulder guard. Startled, Nappa fell before he could regulate his ki, stumbling as he hit the ground. After a marked pause, Zarbon turned his back and walked away, folding his arms behind him and staring into the distance, where energy discharges and explosions marked the Saiyan progress in this area. Shouga was left with one very disgruntled Elite, whose scowling face and quickly darting eyes left no doubt that he was looking for a target.
The Captain was flabbergasted at the one he choose.
Something struck the side of his head with a fair amount of force. But he had put up a full ki shield the moment he landed on the planet and, although it stung, it did nothing more than barely discolor his cheek. Zarbon reached up and lightly brushed one thumb across the mark, pursing his lips slightly.
He hated having his face marred.
Sliding his eyes sideways, he espied Nappa, ki energy still gathering in his hands. The Captain was glaring at the other Saiyan with a combination of disbelief and disgust.
"Trying to get my attention, Commander?" Zarbon asked. "You have it."
"You're in the way," snarled Nappa.
I bet I am. "One of us had better move, then," said Zarbon in his coolest tone, crossing his arms Saiyan-fashion and making no motion himself. Something exploded behind him, outlining his shape in bright light, emphasizing how broad and tall he was even as it cast shadows across his face, obscuring it. Only the unnatural golden eyes could be seen, gleaming with the reflected light. All around them, Saiyan soldiers and officers paused, staring, looking back and forth between the two. The Captain took two big steps away from Nappa, clearly divorcing herself from his actions.
"Feh," Nappa snorted after a moment. "I don't have time for your games, creature." Charging up, he lifted off the ground and went tearing into the heart of the battle.
Zarbon said, making no attempt to lower his voice or disguise his contempt, "Coward." Negligently he waved a hand at the Captain, who grimaced slightly but approached.
From that point on, there was no question who was in charge of the mission.
Chikyuu was a nice planet, thought Radditz. He gazed across the still water of the lake, hearing and smelling the animals moving about, lazily keeping track of those closest to him in case he felt like a snack. He was well fed, however; Bra certainly saw to that. There was no need to move unless one of the creatures stepped on him. That would be hard to resist. But Bra didn't like it when he killed prey items--he discovered that when he brought a still-warm deer to her--so he curbed his instincts and just watched the creatures.
The planet was full of quiet ponds and lakes like this. Vegeta's order to stay away gave him plenty of time to explore, and that was what he spent most of his time doing, although he also helped Bra with the treaty translations and, occasionally, stood bored in the gravity chamber while her husband made adjustments and muttered to himself. This spot was one of his favorite places, remote enough that few humans came here. He brought Bra, a couple of times; how she squealed during flights, clutching a hat over her head and shrieking about her hair. He received another lecture when he popped up out of the water with a fish, Bra telling him sternly that the only animals people should eat were those raised for food, and, anyway, she got lots of fresh salmon from that nice fish-farming co-op she invested in a few years back. Rolling his eyes -- she made it very difficult to figure out how to repay his debt to her -- he let the fish go, then went and lay in the sun until Bra slapped her book closed and said she was ready to head back home. Then he gathered her up carefully, mindful of how fragile humans were, and flew back to the Capsule Corporation as she shrieked some more and clung to him.
He watched some of the deer come close to the water, lowering their heads to drink, occasionally looking up as a noise startled them. They were graceful creatures, long-necked like Zarbon, nothing like the sharp-fanged, aggressive things they called 'deer' on Vejiitasei. Radditz tried to clear his mind and concentrate on Zarbon, wondering if he could pick up any trace of the alien. After a minute he sighed and shook his head. Nothing. He could keep track of Zarbon when they were in the same system, but Radditz was only weakly psychic even by Saiyan standards and his abilities were sorely tested by distance. One more piece of evidence, he thought, that, Bardock's constant barbs to the contrary, he was not bonded to Vegeta's trainer. Distance did not weaken the link between his parents; although they couldn't always communicate across vast interstellar distances, if something happened to one of them, the other immediately seemed to know. No, he had just become fixated on Zarbon during one of his ruts, and it was hard to shake something like that off.
Then Radditz grinned, self-mocking. He had been 'fixated' on Zarbon before the rut, but knowing the moon was coming he held aloof, waiting until the moon passed and he could approach the alien without hormones clouding his mind. Then the King ordered them all to the Southern Continent where being constantly in Zarbon's presence fatally undermined his resolve. He moved too soon and Zarbon, convinced he knew Saiyans better than he actually did, dismissed his advances as either hormone-induced or rebound-influenced. Damn, thought Radditz, smile fading. Sighing, he gained his feet. The deer saw the movement, froze with their great, soft eyes glued to him then, in a panic, sprinted back to the forest. Radditz watched them reach the safety of the trees, several of them pausing to look back; even in frightened flight, they were graceful. Zarbon was like that. Even in his reptilian form with all of its brute power, the alien was precise in his movements, positions always perfect--
Heat. Blistering heat, impacting like a blow against his skin, his face--
Gasping, Radditz fell to his knees, almost retching from the sudden assault.What the hell--? He dragged in great, shuddering mouthfuls of air, raising a hand to his cheek, touching cool flesh. What was that?
For no particular reason he thought again of Zarbon. Leaping straight up, Radditz took off toward the Capsule Corporation at speeds he didn't know he could obtain.
They were getting unusually heavy resistance on the day side of the planet, where the ki wielding natives were stronger. Zarbon checked to see if there were any squad leaders there who could generate artificial moonlight and, when one was located, ordered a general pull-out of the other squads in the area so the specially-trained one could go oozaru. Thinking that took care it, Zarbon begin to coordinate lower-level attacks on other enemy strongholds. Soon reports indicating most of the northernmost continent had fallen were coming in. Zarbon smiled tightly. It had its moments, but everything was falling into place now. There was nothing left but the mopping up.
It was about then that Saiyan screams came over the earpiece of his scouter. He looked toward the communications officer with his brows slightly raised; the man was staring at his console in disbelief. "What?" asked Zarbon.
"The oozaru squad--they've been destroyed," he replied, his voice stunned.
Looking at the alien's face, the Captain saw Zarbon purse his lips, slightly. Then he re-set his scouter, ran some readings, and made that slight clicking noise with his tongue, the one that seemed to indicate he was thinking. It was a very un-Saiyan sound, although she had heard it from Vegeta as well. "Well, what a shame," he said, smiling, his voice icy calm. "The Prince would have loved this." Then he popped the scouter off, handed it to her, and took to the air.
He did not go far, only a few hundred yards away. He could be plainly seen, floating passively over the seared, smoke-wisping battlefield, the white cape streaming behind him in a breeze not felt on ground level. He put his hands at his waist -- another un-Saiyan like action, since that was where Saiyans wound their tails, and to handle one's tail in public was damned impolite -- and turned slightly north-east, awaiting the arrival of ... something.
She removed her own scouter, put his on, and looked at the reading he had frozen there for her to see. After a pause, she took it off and dropped it to the ground.
"We are about to be killed by someone worthy of killing Saiyans," she told her command team, calmly. "Prepare yourselves."
Zarbon was not, in particular, awaiting death. He was not awaiting anything. From the moment he looked through the scouter and saw a reading above that of half the Ginyuu Squad, he went completely blank. There was a nagging thankfulness that Vegeta and Radditz hadn't come here to face this monster, then even that closed down.
A bright star suddenly shone on the horizon. Zarbon watched it approach without interest, saw it form into an encircling glow of streaming ki energy without surprise, studied the humanoid form that suddenly pulled up in front of him without alarm.
He was, most likely, an amphibian-based life form, judging from the slitted vents where other species would have ears, and the smaller slits set in his face where cartilage and flesh would make a mammalian nose. Rounded eyes regarded Zarbon with curiosity. Then fleshy lips pulled back in a smile that was, given the circumstances, surprisingly friendly. "We don't have to do this," he said. "You and your people can promise not to come back, and I'll let you leave."
"That's not the Saiyan way," replied Zarbon, unemotionally.
The entity turned his head to the side. "You're not like the others," he noted.
"I have given my oath of fealty. That makes me Saiyan enough," responded Zarbon.
The other sighed. "Look, no doubt you're powerful where you come from, but you're not in my league," he told Zarbon, frankly.
"I know," was the quiet response.
"Why throw your life away like this?"
"Why ask so many questions?" countered Zarbon. He held his arms out, and finally smiled back, a hard-edged grin with empty, cold eyes. "Come take your victory," he said.
I am the technique.
The other warrior, shaking his head slightly, moved with blurring speed. Zarbon pulled his wrists back, elbows out, using them to cushion the impact of the big body when it struck, still feeling his head snap back hard under the blow, blood filling his mouth, spurting out of his nose.
I am the slide of perfectly-formed muscle.
Zarbon raised a knee under the attack, driving it into the abdomen of his attacker, spinning with the other's body draped across his thigh before straightening his leg out and kicking the warrior away. The warrior straightened in mid-air, laughing in pleasure, and came racing back.
I am the fist, stinging when it connects . I am the blocked blow turned back.
The other's ki shield was too strong; Zarbon broke his knuckles against the smooth face. Then a shattering blow came against his shoulder, and his upper arm fractured as the warrior struck through the block. Zarbon screamed, a reflex action; his mind was clear and unaffected, noting that the entity possessed enough power to slice right through him, but had not done so. A weakness. A chance.
I am the planned assault--
Making no move to protect the damaged arm, Zarbon tucked and spun, snapping his leg straight, hitting the other's jaw with enough momentum to force the warrior's head to the side, but not enough to break his own leg. The warrior looked at him, pleased, rubbing his jaw. "You are a feisty one," he said. "What a shame."
--the calculated surprise of sudden change--
The warrior grabbed Zarbon by the throat. "Look, I don't like seeing things suffer needlessly," he said, kindly. "Hold still; this won't hurt." His free hand spread across Zarbon's face. Zarbon felt the prickle of gathering ki energy, looked between the other's fingers into the warrior's face--and morphed. The ki blast, calculated to disintegrate cleanly through a power level of 23,000, blasted and blistered his flesh, blew his braid back, burned his hair. But it did not kill him, and that was all that mattered.
--the moment of shock before ruin and despair--
"What the bloody--?!" yelped the warrior. Zarbon thrust out with his uninjured hand and, using inch-long talons he had not possessed one second earlier, drove his ki-infused fingers through a suddenly-weaker energy shield into the other's chest.
--the systematic demolition of the foe.
"Your sensei should have told you," Zarbon said in the grim, gravelly voice of his natural state, "never be distracted during a battle. Too late now."
In the instant before he blew away the other's torso from the inside, Zarbon glimpsed startled admiration gathering in the warrior's eyes. He ignored it.
Zarbon didn't consciously realize that he won the fight until he hit the ground on bended knee. Then he felt everything at once -- surprise, relief, exhaustion -- as well as agonizing pain from his broken hand and arm that made him wish he had been disintegrated. He pulled back the extra lid he used to protect his eyes during the warrior's ki blast and looked at the Saiyan command team; they were staring back in various stages of astonishment. "How did you do that?" the Captain demanded in amazement.
He gazed at her blankly, wondering if she meant the victory or his transformed state. Radditz is never around when I need him; he could explain it. I'm too tired... But her surprise did not seem to be directed at his physical form. Zarbon shrugged, then wished he hadn't. "I didn't do much of anything. He did it to himself. He succumbed to the inherent danger of fighting someone with a ki much lower than yours," Zarbon told her. "Overconfidence." He pulled a face, then wished he hadn't done that, either; he could hear the crackle of seared flesh as scales rubbed together unnaturally. "Happened to me on Chikyuu last month. Good thing, actually; it reminded me that brute power is nothing without strategy."
"I'll call a shuttle," said the Captain. "We have to get you to a regeneration tank."
"I can finish this." Zarbon stood up, gingerly, bracing his broken arm carefully. He didn't dare transform into the mammalian form the Saiyans were used to seeing him in; there was no telling where various shattered bones might end up. He was battered, he had lost his armor and half of his clothing in the ki blast, and he didn't even want to think about what he looked like, but he was functional enough. There was, however, one pressing question. He tilted his chin at the Captain; she came to stand next to him. "Tell me," he said to her, quietly, dread in his voice, "how bad is the hair?"
She stepped back and considered him solemnly for a moment. "Ever consider bangs?" she finally said.
Zarbon groaned.
Dodoria entered the audience chamber with a small hand-held communication screen that he gave to Freeza as Captain Ginyuu was finishing up the report on their last assignment. Baata saw the thin black lips purse in a barely discernable moue. Ginyuu interrupted himself. "Is there a problem, Master Freeza?"
"Oh, no, Ginyuu. Merely an ... inconvenience. A trap I set went surprisingly awry. It is of no real importance; just a precaution against a potential enemy. In truth, the outcome is not unfavorable for me, since Paikuhan himself had the potential to become an eventual threat. But I find that Zarbon, of all entities, is responsible for the plan's miscarriage. How distressingly short-sighted of me to let him go to the Saiyans. And how annoying that my target keeps avoiding my snares. This is at least the third time..."
"Is Zarbon all right?" asked Baata before he could stop himself. Ginyuu turned his head, the steely gaze promising retribution for speaking out of turn.
Freeza, however, did not seem to mind. "He is fully recovered, Baata. Believe it or not, he defeated someone of your power level. More or less surprised Paikuhan to death, from the reports."
Baata snorted. "I believe it. He thrives on ambush, Lord Freeza; he was always leaping out at the Elders from behind rocks. That's why he lives in that weak mammalian form of his."
"Hey," protested Rikuum after a second, evidently recalling that he was a mammal.
"Yes, his precocious nature was what landed him in my forces," said Freeza, dryly. "Normally your people are very careful about letting one of Zarbon's gender off the planet."
"Oh, the Elders don't try to stop us if we decide to leave," came another voice from the dais. Standing slightly behind Freeza, a previously-still figure lifted golden eyes, flicked a blue-green braid behind a shoulder and continued. "We are the rarest of our kind, after all, and they are very careful not to offend us." He grinned brightly at Baata. "Aren't they, warrior?" Faint color ran underneath the scaled flesh; Baata turned his eyes away.
Freeza smiled slightly. "Ah, but you and Zarbon are still more unique among your gender in having fighting level ki, Yuzun. They really didn't have the ability on your planet to handle your compatriot when he hit puberty and started to...change. No, the only place in the Emporium to raise one of his power was here."
"I am not in Zarbon's power class, Lord Freeza; I left because I was bored," responded Yuzun. "Nor can I claim his tolerance for Saiyans. The monkeys can be entertaining for a while but," he lifted one shoulder, "they are so intense."
There was an amused snort from the shadows where Freeza's personal guards stood. Although Freeza's glance was also amused, he raised a finger for silence and all banter came to a complete halt. The Ginyuu Squad struck an alert stance in front of the dias, arms folded behind their backs; at Freeza's side, Yuzun did the same. "The Saiyans do keep throwing poor Zarbon in harm's way," noted Freeza. He fixed Baata with a look that was, despite the smile playing about his mouth, far from convivial. "I know your Elders have plans for that one, Baata. It would be a great shame if anything happened to him. A very great shame indeed."
"We are in complete agreement, Master Freeza," replied Baata after a minute.
Freeza lowered his eyes. "Of course we are," he murmured in his quiet, gentle voice. "But I fear we stray off the subject. Captain Ginyuu was about to finish his account of your last mission. Pray continue, Ginyuu."
Hours later, when Zarbon finally reached his quarters after some time in the regeneration tank and some more time attending a celebratory ceremony in the Captain's quarters, he found several messages from Vegeta awaiting him. One he might have ignored -- he had one of his inexplicable headaches, this one starting before he even got into the regeneration tank -- but clearly Vegeta wanted to talk to him now. After checking his appearance, then deciding there wasn't a thing he could do about it, Zarbon contacted the Prince. Vegeta answered promptly, looking at him with narrowed eyes. It's the hair, thought Zarbon, fatalistically. This is the worst it has ever looked. Never let a Saiyan cut your hair. Shouga meant well, but no member of the race has any concept of style...
"So," said Vegeta. "How did the mission go?"
"Fairly routine. We came, we saw, we cleansed. Nothing too out of the ordinary."
Vegeta's eyes lowered; Zarbon had a mental flash of the Prince examining the back of his gloved hand, which he sometimes did when he didn't quite believe what he was hearing. "I have talked to the Captain, Zarbon."
"Then you know more than I do," said Zarbon, frankly. "She saw what happened. I was in the middle of it."
"She said some surprising things. One being that you identified yourself as Saiyan to the enemy. You will have to show me the tail when you return. And another--well, I am stunned to learn that you can defeat someone with twice your ki, Zarbon. Twice your very highest ki."
Oh-oh. Zarbon sat up a little straighter, suddenly alert. Vegeta was...
"You haven't, of course, been holding back on me, have you? You know how I hate that, Zarbon. I put up with a very great deal from you, but that I would find hard to excuse."
...pissed, as Radditz would say. "Vegeta, he beat himself. He clearly wasn't used to fighting high ki opponents; he struck with just-enough strength. When I transformed, I threw him off, and I got enough of an opening to break through his shield. That's all."
After a pause, Vegeta clicked his tongue slightly and raised his eyes. "If I ever even suspect you have a higher ki form that you haven't used with me..." the Prince said, and there was a deadly warning in his tone.
"Vegeta, I would have used it in the arena," Zarbon pointed out. "I would have used it on Uchuun. As far as that goes, I would have used it in half of our training bouts. It's all I can do to stay even with you when we're just sparring, my Prince."
After a moment, the Prince gave a curt nod. Fractionally relaxing, Zarbon blew the breath he was holding out softly through his nose. Vegeta said, after another long look, "You are looking a little...ragged."
"Yes, the hair's a shaggy mess, I'm afraid," Zarbon started.
"The hair is fine. But there are big bags under your eyes, and I've never noticed those lines before..."
"WHAT!?" screamed Zarbon. He whipped toward the mirror on the opposite wall. The reflection showed startled golden eyes set in a flawless face framed by far-too-short hair that curved to his jawline, with not a line or blemish disfiguring the smooth skin. The eyes slitted; Zarbon glared back at the Prince's smirking face. "If I hadn't sworn an oath of fealty to you..."
"Oh, I'm sure," agreed Vegeta, smugly, and the screen went blank.
"What astonishingly imprecise 'hunches' you have," said Vegeta after a pause.
Braced in the Prince's doorway, Radditz lowered his head without comment. Then he stepped back into the Capsule Corporation's yard, ki energy curling around him, and vanished.
Read The Chikyuu Contaminant: Chapter Twenty-Five
Return to Vejiitasei Ascendant
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Nappa has snarled at Zarbon times since 4/17/99!
