The Warrior Prince
Chapter One
A dark figure leaned against a colored pane of the elaborate stained-glass window, casting a long shadow on the marble floor. It was nearing evening in the Capitol, though the orange haze that was the sky made it difficult to determine an exact time. Heavy footsteps could be heard entering the room, but the silhouetted young man paid no notice and continued his watch over his birthright.
"Brat!" Vejiita Ou strode across the expanse hastily, yet dignified. "Why did you not attend the Council meeting? It is your duty as Heir to learn the ways of office. I will not have some lazy, stubborn, worthless baka, even if he IS my son, succeed me as King! I will not accept failure from my men, and ESPECIALLY not from you!"
The Prince turned from the window slowly and glanced at his father. "Tell me, father...Why should I care what you will or will not accept? You know full well that I could simply kill you and take my birthright in a mere instant. The only reason I have not done so thus far is because I do not WISH to rule this damned mudball. If you do not want your 'worthless' son on the throne, then I suggest you had better shut your mouth and leave before I do something we shall both regret." Giving his father an icy stare and a slight smirk, the Prince once more turned his gaze to the Capitol below.
Vejiita Ou glared at his son's effrontery, yet did not speak. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, the Prince was correct. He could no longer beat his son in a contest of strength, and it seemed that the Heir was also gaining the upper hand in a contest of wills. Stifling a sigh, the King turned on his heel and walked to the large stone doors that marked the entrance to the Great Hall. Pausing, the King put a hand on one of the massive doors and turned his head slightly. *It is getting late...we will speak of the situation tomorrow…* thought the King to his son. But if the Prince was even listening to his father's attempt at direct telepathy, the King could not tell. Waiting for a response, be it a haughty laugh or a simple grunt, Vejiita Ou did not care. The Prince just stood there silently, staring out the window in deep contemplation. The King did not wish to aggravate the situation further, so despite his curiosity, he decided to leave.
Sensing his father gone, Vejiita glanced towards the great doors where Palace Guards stood watch. "Hmph. Idiots...they cannot hope to protect me from anything strong enough to cause me harm," the Prince mused. He had felt the King's probe into his mind, but after so many years, Vejiita had learned to put up barriers to block such things. First taught to him by his trainers so that he could avoid disruptions in battle and the compromising of his moves in advance, the skill had become invaluable of late with all of his father's recent "discussions". The Prince glanced back to the window once more before heading to his private chambers. 'Only three more days…' thought the Heir to himself. 'Three more days until I leave this planet for good.'
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"Preparations have been finalized, Lord Freeza," spoke a prostrate, blue-skinned figure from the center of the spaceship's largest room. Zarbon glanced up briefly to notice that Freeza was not, it seemed, paying him any attention. Swirling a glass of red wine in his hand, the pale creature looked absolutely mesmerized by it. But Zarbon knew better. Turning his gaze back to the floor, he continued, "I have been informed that it will be approximately 72 hours before we are scheduled to enter Vejiitasei's orbit. Are there any further orders, sir?"
Looking over his glass to the kneeling figure before him, Freeza smiled. He truly enjoyed watching his subjects cower at his presence. Surely, Freeza's strength was overwhelming, not yet had he found a being superior, but he prided himself more on his power of intimidation. For years, he hadn't had to lift a finger against an enemy. If a world did not succumb to his rule, he would send out an order for its destruction. It was that simple. Obey or die. He would still train to keep sharp, but he dared not spar anyone. Too many times over the years he had found it necessary to replace sparring partners who could, literally, not live up to the challenge. Freeza began to walk past his aide. "Tell the men to take the day off. There will be much work in the near future." As he reached the door to the ship's hall, he spoke over his shoulder to the still-kneeling Zarbon, "One more thing. Get Ginyuu on the communicator and have it transferred to my quarters at once."
"Sir," asked Zarbon, "you don't intend to fight the Saiyajins, do you?" The various guards and personnel nearby noticeably tensed, and a general unease could be felt throughout the room.
"Are you questioning me, Zarbon? Surelyone who has been in my service for such a long time would know better than to second-guess my decisions." Freeza smiled to himself as he wondered what kind of drivel Zarbon would come up with this time to explain his impertinence. Hearing his slightly muffled stammering, Freeza could tell Zarbon was still prostrate on the floor behind him without needing to turn around. 'I guess I'll have to let these others know the price of questioning my decisions,' he thought. 'Then at least I won't have to promote that dolt, Dodoria, to Zarbon's position.' Pointing a finger behind him, Freeza fired a ki blast that barely passed over his aide's green locks, hitting a technician in the abdomen, disintegrating the bystander before he knew he had been hit. Freeza heard a few quickly repressed yelps and more than a few gasps as his lesson hit home. Never turning from the doorway, Freeza called over his shoulder, "Zarbon, it's a miracle you aren't bald yet," and walked out.
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