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The Young Prince
Chapter 7
Vegeta complained, "This is impossible."
Trying to keep his tone soothing, Zarbon said, "Just stay there and clear your mind."
"Just hang in mid-air and think about nothing?" snapped Vegeta. "How can I think about nothing?"
Sighing, Zarbon resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, rub the back of his neck, shake his arms out, or to do anything else that might be even moderately relaxing. He had to stay alert -- Vegeta was the one who needed to loosen up. "Contemplate black holes -- the eternal void -- whatever it is that you think about when you think, 'empty.'"
"Your head?"
"Well, maybe Nappa's head."
The young Prince chuckled at that. His mid-air posture fractionally loosened, with his hunched-up shoulders relaxing, his hands resting against his elbows instead of gripping his own upper arms.
"That's good," said Zarbon, meaning to be encouraging. Vegeta immediately tensed up again, glaring, obviously convinced that the entire concept was inherently un-Saiyan.
This is not working, thought Zarbon.
"Zarbon."
"What?"
The Prince snarled, "Your constant sighing is not helping."
Zarbon barely stifled another sigh.
There might be things more boring than guarding a fire pit, thought Radditz, but right now he wasn't sure what they could be.
Over the last two days he'd killed everything of any size in the immediate vicinity of the camp. He'd slurped down lizards, swallowed baby birds whole, even listened with one ear to the ground to see if any of the massive underground worms occasionally found on the Southern Continent might be just underground. He couldn't go farther afield to look for larger, more challenging game while the Prince was training. His duty was to stay within earshot. Which would be easier to do if the Prince would just wear a scouter. But Vegeta had steadfastly refused to use one since his return from the tournament.
Radditz's own scouter suddenly blipped, signaling an approaching ki. Tilting his head until the indicator in the eyepiece centered, Radditz checked the reading and turned the scouter back off. The power reading matched that of Nappa, evidently out of the regeneration tank and heading for the base camp.
A second later he frowned. That low humming sounded like --
Looking up, Radditz's eyes widened in surprise. A circular one-man space pod zipped into view over the horizon. Racing toward the camp, it stopped and lowered gently into the clearing next to the river. The hatch popped open. Nappa wriggled out of the narrow opening, standing up and looking around with a curl to his lip.
Radditz saluted. Nappa nodded at him, clicked on his own scouter, frowned at the low hill behind which he could detect the kis of the Prince and the alien. "Anything to report?"
"The hunting's lousy."
"Eh, too bad. Well, maybe I'll see what's in the river."
Radditz debated telling him that he'd pretty much fished out this patch of water, and decided against it.
Once he'd sensed Nappa's arrival, Vegeta started having problems trying to mediate while simultaneously maintaining sufficient ki to float just above the ground. Which was getting him angry and frustrated. Which was defeating the purpose of the exercise.
Zarbon sighed, then mentally slapped himself when Vegeta glared at him. I'm going to need to go on a meditative retreat when this is over. Oh, well. Let's start from the ground up. Literally. He sat cross-legged on the ground, carefully arranging his cloak to minimize dirt stains, and crooked a finger at Vegeta. "Come here." Scowling, the Prince planted himself in front of the alien. Zarbon pointed at a spot next to him. "Sit."
Vegeta eyed him, his expression indicating deep distrust, but moved to his side and stiffly sat. Taking him by the shoulders, Zarbon turned him. "All right--lay back."
Vegeta pulled away. "Are you crazy?!"
Zarbon looked at him in annoyance. "Don't you people ever relax?"
"Not around you."
Zarbon regarded him in puzzlement, then suddenly burst into laugher. "Aiee, silly boy. You aren't my type. Too -- mammalian. Look, just lean back. You'll have a clear shot at my throat if I try anything." After fixing him with a thunderous stare, Vegeta scooted around and propped his head against Zarbon's booted thigh. Zarbon could feel the boy's corded neck muscles and the slight electric prick of a ki shield; Vegeta was not about to let himself actually touch the other man. This isn't working, either. How do you get a Saiyan to relax? "Close your eyes and focus on something."
"On what? More empty stuff?"
"Something that calms you or pleases you."
"Snapping your scrawny, effete neck?"
Zarbon grinned. "If that works, do it."
Vegeta stared up at him, frowning suspiciously. "Zarbon, what are you?"
"Didn't we go through that the other day?"
"No, not who. What. What are you?"
Zarbon gazed back thoughtfully before answering. "I'm a changeling. You know that. Saiyans are, too, I hear."
"Baka. I mean, are you even male? You don't smell male."
Of course they rely on scent cues. No wonder I confuse the hell out of them. "I'm sure I don't smell like anything you can identify on this narrow world, little Saiyan. Ah, stop making faces at me. I'm male enough, Prince Vegeta. If I start developing -- er, more feminine traits around you, then you might have something to worry about."
Vegeta snorted, and finally closed his eyes. "You're already the most female-looking thing on the planet. Why do you think Radditz is always flirting with you?"
After wondering if throwing pieces of dead animals at someone was considered 'flirting' in Saiyan society, Zarbon decided not to comment on that and instead said, "Careful, Vegeta. People will think you don't like Saiyan females. And then where will the next generation of obnoxious little princes come from?"
"The gene banks. Like I did."
Zarbon didn't know how to answer that, and fell silent. Looking down into the Prince's face, he saw that even when trying to force relaxation the boy's brows were knitted together. Catching another sigh, he gently touched the Prince's stiff, wiry hair -- how do I get him to the point of self-knowledge a true warrior needs...?
Vegeta's eyes flew open. "What the hell are you doing?"
"What? Oh, sorry. I've been curious about your hair. I guess it's natural, the way it flares up. I thought you put something in it--"
Vegeta sat straight up, smacking Zarbon in the face with the hair in question -- ow! he could use that as a weapon! -- and turning angrily on Zarbon. "Why are we wasting time with inconsequential things?! I want to train!"
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Zarbon tried to keep his voice even. "Vegeta, you're training without knowledge of yourself, without interest in your opponents. Noticing 'inconsequential' things may give you an unexpected opening in battle."
Leaning over, Vegeta fisted a handful of Zarbon's hair, wrapping it around his fingers. After a moment, Zarbon obligingly drawled, "Ouch."
Snorting, Vegeta released him and stood up. "Your hair's soft and weak. Like the rest of you."
"You can tell that through your gloves and a ki shield, can you?"
Vegeta spun away, his tail flicking in annoyance. "Can we at least spar, or is this going to be a complete waste of my time?"
Zarbon grabbed the tail with one hand and bore down.
The Prince of Vejiitasei collapsed to his knees, screaming. The commotion brought Nappa and Radditz leaping over the hill's crest. Radditz paused and hovered, looking at the scene with appraising eyes. Bellowing, Nappa charged, directing a kick at Zarbon's head. Zarbon stopped the momentum of Nappa's leg with his free hand, curved his fingers into the ankle, swung Nappa overhead in a perfect arc and slammed the big man face down in the dirt where he remained, unmoving. After glancing up at Radditz to check that he was not attacking, Zarbon regarded the now-writhing Prince coldly. He wrapped the tail around his fist, once, for a better grip -- the Prince wailed and jerked into a fetal position.
"Taking this a bit far, aren't you?" said Radditz, his voice harsh.
Zarbon lifted a finger for silence, then leaned over Vegeta and spoke brusquely. "So it was the tail. I was curious about it at the tournament, you see -- that's why I grabbed it. You went down so quickly I thought Saiyans might have spleens next to the skin's surface. But, no -- it was the tail. A decided design flaw." He squeezed again -- beyond screaming, Vegeta whimpered, cradling his head in his arms.
"Baka, enough," snapped Radditz. Almost done, Zarbon mouthed at him. Landing, Radditz rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, but did not advance.
"You might consider removing it. Does it come off?"
"N-no--" moaned Vegeta.
Zarbon looked at the point of attachment, set in the base of Vegeta's spine. "No? Doesn't look that firmly attached to me. One good tug should do it." He tightened his grip.
"No!" Vegeta screamed.
"Why not? If it reduces you to this state, it's a liability." Moaning, Vegeta curled up without responding, then writhed again at another squeeze. "Why keep the tail, little Vegeta?"
"We--" started Radditz, but Zarbon frowned and shook his head. He had to hear it from Vegeta.
"I'm waiting, little Prince."
As he tugged again, Vegeta shouted, "We can't transform without them!"
"Ah." Zarbon uncurled his fingers. The tail flicked against his hand, hard enough to sting, then whipped away, curving against the Prince's mid-section where he protectively covered it with his arms.
"Well," said Zarbon after a minute. "We'll have to get you desensitized there, won't we. Which means a lot of pain for you, little Prince, until we figure out just how to do that. Think you can take that?"
Vegeta glared up at him. "I can take whatever you dish out, baka."
"Oh, obviously. Since you're already on the ground and that seems to be the only place you can meditate, why don't you just stay there and contemplate the universe for a while. I think I'll do the hunting for this evening." He aimed a mocking bow at the prone Prince and pivoted away.
He was expecting the blind-side attack and avoided it by shooting straight up in the air, looking down into Vegeta's twisted, angry face. "'Never turn your back on a Saiyan,'" he taunted the Prince. "Did you think I had forgotten?"
Howling, Vegeta launched himself after Zarbon, but the alien simply wasn't there to receive his blow. Puzzled, Vegeta cast around for him.
"Down here," said Zarbon, from behind Radditz. "Baka."
Radditz had the sense to take to the air himself as Vegeta flung back to the ground. "I'm tired of this," the Prince snarled. His voice rose progressively as he shouted at Zarbon. "I'm tired of trying to meditate, I'm tired of your lack of respect, I'm tired of you holding back on me, and I'm tired of you calling me 'little' all the time!"
"You aren't worth my full strength, and you haven't earned my respect," stated Zarbon, contemptuously. "Little Vegeta."
"Stop holding back and fight me!"
Moving as a blur, Zarbon sidestepped Vegeta's charge, bringing his elbow down on Vegeta's neck as his knee came up, then standing aside to let the Prince hit the ground. He turned his head and watched dispassionately as Vegeta vomited blood, his body convulsed. Leaning over the boy, he grabbed Vegeta by the hair and pulled his head painfully back, one foot between the Prince's shoulder blades. He bit off words into the young Prince's ear. "One. Attacking in anger is fine. Attacking without a plan is not. Two. Do not be so eager for death. If I fight you at full strength today, you die. Three. You will have earned my respect when I fight you at full strength, and you use what I have taught you to defeat me. When that happens, I will be your warrior, and you may command me. But not before then."
"Baka!" gurgled Vegeta, spitting more blood. "I'll destroy you within the week!"
Zarbon shrugged. "That I don't see happening. But I'll let you try again in a couple of days, if you're a good little Prince that makes some inroads on his meditation techniques." He released Vegeta's hair; the Prince's face slapped into the hard-packed ground. Looking at Radditz thoughtfully, Zarbon asked, "Any requests for dinner?"
"Boar would be nice."
"I'll see what I can track down." Zarbon levitated, then blurred out of sight.
Nappa slowly pushed to his hands and knees, blinking. Damn, that fancy-pants alien thing is speedy. He squinted through a shattered scouter at Radditz, who was kneeling next to a prostrate Vegeta. Vegeta pounded one foot against the ground, compulsively, his face contorted. Radditz's suggestion of a regeneration tank was not well received. "Zarbon said, no interference," the Prince rasped, the words gurgling out as if through mouthfuls of liquid. "That means no going back to the palace, which means no tanks. What part of "no" is beyond your third class mentality? What idiot decided you were a warrior of first class? I'll be fine in a few hours..."
Nappa asked regretfully, "I missed something good, huh?"
Looking over at him, Radditz shrugged. "It had its moments."
"You want to be conscious for the next one," said Vegeta, his voice indistinct. "That's going to be the good one."
Read The Young Prince: Chapter Eight
Oh! There's a manga version of Chapter Seven!
Return to Vejiitasei Ascendant
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