CHAPTER 27: Combat Training - Part 2

While Raditsu and Plum were taking a break, Broli was about to begin his own sparring match. The huge Saiyajin stood on a windswept plateau, clad in his outfit of choice - baggy white pants and a VERY ornate violet waist wrap adorned with a gold belt. Standing a few feet away was the white-armored Sauzaa.

"I'm not going to go easy on you," Broli warned his blue opponent.

"I wasn't expecting you to, old chap," Sauzaa replied with a sharp nod. "Shall we begin?"

"We shall."

Before Broli could move to attack, Sauzaa was in his face, thrusting upward with both knees at once. Broli jumped back quickly, and Sauzaa's strike hit air - and then Broli's right fist hit HIM. It his again and again as Broli closed in, but Sauzaa managed to withstand the furious attack of his gigantic opponent, fighting back with a punch of his own.

Broli took the punch full in the face, and he ignored the trickle of blood running from his chin as he smacked Sauzaa along the side of the head. The white-haired alien's eyes glazed over as he toppled to the ground.

"Oops," Broli said half-sincerely. "Well, that didn't take very long."

Shrugging, Broli sat down and waited for Sauzaa to wake up.

-----

"He's beaten Sauzaa, your Highness," a doglike soldier told Freeza with some surprise.

"I can see that, you nincompoop," Freeza told him. "His power is impressive, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"I thought you'd say that." Freeza looked to his right, where Zarbon sat on a small chair, watching the monitor. "Zarbon."

"Yeah?" came the reply.

"Do you remember that legend we came across? The one concerning the Saiyajins?"

"The Super Saiyajin gibberish? I'm surprised you'd even bring it up, your Highness."

"It's starting to make a little more sense to me now, Zarbon. Broli here COULD be our Super Saiyajin." The emperor pointed one finger at the image of Broli. "He's got the sheer power, plus an intellect to match."

"Maybe you have a point after all." The blue ambassador placed no particular emphasis on the maybe.

"Are you questioning my decision, Zarbon?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Don't forget what happened to the LAST ambassador who questioned my authority." Freeza pointed towards a scorched section of the floor half-hidden beneath the rug. "He remembered a pressing engagement in Hell."

"I see." Freeza DID have a bad habit of killing anyone who pissed him off, after all.

Freeza leaned back in his chair, his eyes focused on the image of Broli. "Maybe he IS the one," he murmured. "Maybe."

-----

More than anything else, Prince Vegeta loved himself.

Who else was there to love? He was royalty, he was handsome, and he had impeccable manners - and not only that, he was strong, smart, and merciful too. He was the perfect man.

At the moment, the perfect man was admiring his reflection in front of a large mirror in his private quarters.

"Oh yes, I am dead sexy," Vegeta half-crooned, applying a little bit of gel to his spiked hair. "I am a sexy bitch, baby. Yeah."

The door slid open.

"Who's there?" Vegeta snapped, regretfully turning away from his reflection.

"Toma, sir." A bulky Saiyajin with a squarish face emerged from the doorframe, his black armor accented with sky blue.

"What do YOU want?" Vegeta snorted.

"Your father told me to see if you were training." An amused look crossed Toma's worn features. "Apparently, you haven't trained at all."

"Shut up, you dope! I'm stronger than you'll ever be!" Vegeta was broiling. How DARE this little upstart insult HIM, the perfect man?

"I sincerely doubt that," Toma replied drily, turning on a heel and striding from the room.

"YOU GET BACK HERE!" the Prince hollered, but Toma ignored him. The door slid shut behind the departing warrior.

How DARE he disobey a royal command?! HOW DARE HE ignore his own prince?! HOW DARE HE-

Something else caught his eye - the most gorgeous face in the universe. Grinning, he turned back to his mirror and began grooming himself again.

-----

King Vegeta barely noticed Toma leaving through his own rage. How DARE that little brat ignore a command from his OWN FATHER?! HOW DARE HE?! He, Vegeta, was the KING! EVERYBODY obeyed him!

Well, except Koola.

King Vegeta absolutely HATED when people disobeyed his commands. Which is why he despised his son with a passion that was almost holy. He had pampered the boy for years, grooming him for the throne, and he had created a spoiled brat. Where had he gone wrong? He often asked himself that question in excess of ten times a day.

"The boy deserves to be disciplined," he muttered to himself, shaking off his anger.

"What?" Neizu blinked, looking up at the Saiyajin perched atop the throne.

"None of your business," Vegeta snapped at him.

Neizu shrugged a bit, then turned back to his conversation with Doore. King Vegeta REALLY hated the aliens.

Maybe he'd double-cross THEM once this was all over. Then he really WOULD be invincible! How thrilling! And since nobody was as strong as him, he could pull it off. He suppressed the urge to giggle as he schemed within the silence of his mind, plotting the downfall of his own allies.