Chapter Seven
A wet, stomping, snarling Elite trounced his way through the corridors of Vejiitasei's Royal Palace. Clad in the minimal of clothing, Nappa's eyes searched the dim halls, sniffing the air on occasion for any signs of a certain residing member. "WHERE ARE YOU, BRAT?!"
Having just blasted his way out of the regeneration tank meant to heal the wounds suffered by the Prince's ever-so-gentle touch, Nappa immediately donned just enough for decency and went stalking after his young charge. Mumbling under his breath about disrespectful ingrates as he tromped about the echoing passageways, Nappa suddenly stopped in his tracks. Freeza. In his rage over the condition he was left in…and was actually still hurting from, adrenaline having taken over his system, further clouding his already clouded judgment and encouraging his too-early "release" from the medical ward…Nappa had forgotten about what he supposed was the real reason for his infirmary stay. Freeza was in the Capitol. Nappa figured that if he had taken the time to affix a scouter to his face, he would probably find that the great horned lizard was in the Palace itself. "Considering it isn't a pile of cinders by now…"
Regaining his composure and assessing his barely-healed injuries, Nappa decided his best course of action was to head back to his quarters. He didn't exactly want to meet the tyrant in nothing but briefs. He could 'discuss' the situation with Vejiita at a later time. Preferably over breakfast. "Or maybe dinner…" noted the massive warrior as he checked a timepiece in the hallway. Either way, he was starving. But that wasn't really unusual. Coming out of a tank halfway healed tended to do that to a Saiyajin. At the thought, Nappa snarled as he entered his darkened quarters. He wouldn't have been in a tank in the first place if the brat hadn't caught him off guard. Not a shred of respect or decency in the boy. Maybe Freeza was there to cart him off and teach him to put that treachery to good use. "Yeah, right. Vejiitasei isn't that lucky. For all I know, ol' Lizard Lips is here on vacation."
Wandering past all of his personal affects on the way to his bathing chambers, Nappa groaned as he stretched out his cramped muscles. Not bothering to turn on the lights, as he had lived in these quarters for years and knew the layout by heart, Nappa was more than shocked to trip over something in the darkened room. Knowing he wasn't so injured to have forgotten where he was, and not in the mood for games, he bellowed, "LIGHTS!"
"Welcome back, Commander," spoke an oddly familiar voice from behind him. "I was wondering when you'd show up. The Prince did have you figured as healed by today, though I admit I was reluctant to believe him. I guess he knows your recovery skills best, seeing as how he's put you in a tank more than anyone."
Nappa craned his neck around to look towards the voice and growled softly when he found the source. Bardock's brat. The first one, anyway. They were still waiting for the General's other piece of low-class trash to send the retrieval signal following a successful purge. A purge that should have been completed 5 years ago. Perhaps the spawn was so weak, he was killed by the mindless natives, skinned, and eaten… "Damn, I'm hungry…"
Getting up and brushing past the pile of hair, Nappa decided to forgo his shower and concentrate on satiating his ravenous appetite. As he removed mountains of food from the huge cooler in his otherwise sparse kitchen, Nappa kept an ear tuned to the movements of the intruding houseguest.
"I bet you'd like to know what I'm doing here, wouldn't you Commander?" spoke Radditz in a low tone.
"Drm strt, yusnufabtch!" replied Nappa between mouthfuls.
"Well, that looks like a good place to start," mused the hairball. "I met up with your charge as he was hauling your ass to the infirmary. I am here to teach you your place. It appears that your impertinence is half the reason you were beaten to a pulp, and…don't look at me like that!"
Nappa was livid. "MY PLACE?! WHO ARE YOU TO TEACH ME MY PLACE?! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A PIECE OF LOW-LEVEL SCUM NOT WORTHY ENOUGH TO LICK MY FEET! YOU -- " His rant was cut short by a fit of harsh coughing. While he could move, and his bones were mended, it seemed as though he really could have used some extra time in the regen tanks. He probably had internal injuries he didn't even think about, so great was his anger at the boy. Pulling back his hand from his mouth, he indeed saw flecks of blood spattered upon the skin. Something wasn't healed yet, that was for certain. He'd do a mental assessment later. Right now he was too tired and hungry. Calming down so he could breathe more easily, he sat down at a small table and resumed his meal, nodding to Radditz to continue.
"Like I said, I'm here to teach you your place, NOT to put you in it, baka. I'm not strong enough for that and we both know it. It seems that your manners leave much to be desired. You speak out of turn, you assume authority where you have none, and you…you talk with your mouth full," he commented with a look of disgust as he watched the larger Saiyajin dine.
"Preaching to ME about authority…I should have you ki-fried for that. I doubt the smell of burning hair would ever come out of the upholstery, though," jeered the burly Elite.
"Be that as it may, Prince Vejiita gave me orders. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not, so I suggest you learn to deal with it."
"How long?"
"What?"
"What do you mean, 'what'? How LONG am I STUCK with you, you mangy weakling? Hmph. I'd rather bathe in my own vomit than breathe the same foul air as you mongrel abominations."
"I don't have mange…"
"Answer the question!"
"You are stuck with me for however long the Prince says you are. Got it?!" boomed the irritated Saiyajin. "Just my luck, that might be forever. The King has assigned me to act as Vejiita's tutor in diplomacy of all things. Can't imagine why he'd need to learn that. Personally, I'd rather just see him beat your meaty face in once in a while to get what he wants, but I guess that sort of diplomacy wouldn't set well with foreign dignitaries. We're leaving for the Kold Empire tonight."
"So Freeza has come to take him away…"
"Yes, and I'm getting a headache listening to your whirring brain make a pathetic attempt at thinking! Shut up, eat, and FOR GOD'S SAKE WIPE UP YOUR DROOL!" Turning angrily on his heel, Radditz made his way into the living area of Nappa's quarters.
His vision turning a murderous red, Nappa fixed his glare to the other Saiyajin's back as he ripped off a large chunk of meat from the bone of a random native beast and chewed it mercilessly.
*******
Vejiita Ouji sat quietly on his bed, staring towards his window, still as a statue. One would have thought him such if they didn't notice a soft sound emanating from the Prince's chest. A soothing purr, some would call it, but this sound was not one of contentment. The innocuous sound belied its true meaning…Vejiita was nervous, perhaps more. He could not quite put a finger on what he was feeling, but he knew he had not felt this way or had heard the shuddering, low rumble since before his naming day. Scant hours remained before Vejiita was supposed to leave the planet, and as the time ticked away, the Prince was finding that he was not yet ready to do so.
It was not that Vejiita was worried about his duties to his people. He wasn't even worried about becoming homesick. It was more that he had some things to take care of before he left, and he did not like leaving situations unresolved. His father's public humiliation was weighing heavily on the Prince's mind, and like all true Saiyajins, his thirst for vengeance was becoming nearly debilitating. But no…he could not give in to the temptation and kill the King for the injustice. If he did that now, then Vejiita would have to take the throne much earlier than he would have liked. In effect, he would be stuck on the planet permanently, never to achieve his goal, as the weight of the bureaucracy would prohibit the advancement of his skills as a warrior. If he ever wanted to become the Super Saiyajin of legend, he could not – WOULD not – become King. So instead, he would suck up his pride, if only for his father, and take the verbal beatings as they came.
It was not yet dark outside, and the Prince considered meditating on the veranda of his quarters to help him sort out his jumbled thoughts. Taking a deep breath, Vejiita got up from his bed, dragging the large comforter behind him as he walked to the large doors that led to the balcony. Raising the latch, he shoved the bedcover through ahead of him with his foot, making a messy pile on the cool floor. Sitting haphazardly upon his makeshift nest of thick cloth, Vejiita closed his eyes, letting the warm Vejiitasei winds soothe his soul.
It was finally happening. After months of nervous anticipation and scheming, he would be leaving the planet. He had dreamed about roaming amongst the stars since he was very small. Vejiita was fond of his homeworld, as were all planet-bound Saiyajins, and quite proud to be who he was, regardless of his class and status. Even the slaves on Vejiitasei carried a certain pride in their daily activities. He had felt the pull of the cosmos on his heart, however. The boasting stories from the off-world troops as well as the tales spun by his mother when he was a mere whelp sparked his interest in space exploration, and that spark soon grew into a flame. He would stand with his father and watch the infants as they were launched into that inky black void, full of longing to go along with them and fight side-by-side, taking over countless worlds in the name of the Saiyajin Empire.
Unable to suppress a grin at the thought of finally getting his chance to prove his worth to that bakayaro of a father he had, Vejiita opened his eyes and took one more brief look over his kingdom. He would be the greatest warrior and king in Vejiitasei's history. He was sure of it. He absently clutched at the pendant lying against his chest. "I will be better than him, I swear on my honor."
*******
Apparently, Nappa had never packed for extended journeys off-world, Radditz surmised. At least not for a long time. He supposed that might have something to do with the fact that the Prince had never been off the planet. Watching as the burly alien tried to push a month's worth of clothing into a knapsack the size of his meaty head, Radditz had to sigh. 'He must be an awfully good sparring partner for Prince Vejiita to keep him around. I don't think I've ever met a bigger idiot,' Radditz thought.
"HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THIS?!" raved Nappa, with a rough toss of some standard-issue boots into a corner of the room.
"Ever consider getting a larger pack? Or, you know, not bringing your entire wardrobe along?" retorted Radditz. He really was getting tired of the bigger man's temper tantrums. 'Must be something he picked up from the Prince… or vice versa. Feh, Elites.' Threatening Radditz with a mean-looking pair of black briefs, Nappa turned his frustration on the man.
"Don't you even start with me, warrior! I've had it up to here with your nagging!" the larger Saiyajin warned, emphasizing the limits of his patience with the undergarment waving near his eyes. Radditz just sighed and went back to his own packing – not that there was much to do. He had already gathered his essential belongings together when he was given the order to educate the rough Saiyajin commander; and with Elites like him, only a direct intervention would do.
"Just hurry the hell up, Commander. We're to meet up with Lord Freeza's party at the eastern dock in an hour. I'm not going to be the one to explain that you're late because you can't seem to find room in your bag for your underwear." Radditz thought it was amusing, himself, and had a hard time holding back a mocking grin. He really did not want to be late, though. Not after what he had witnessed from the aliens at the bizarre breakfast…
*******
The three Saiyajin males stood at the docking bay looking at Freeza's ship with various expressions on their faces. The little prince was alight with anticipation, while the big meathead that served as his guard looked irritated. The one with the hair seemed to have forgotten his earlier fright and just looked bored.
"Gentlemen, welcome to your home for the next three months," greeted Zarbon as he ushered the trio up the ramp with a grin. "I do hope the amenities are not too austere for your lavish tastes." The arrogant prince sniffed the air at the comment, pushing past the large men flanking him and heading into the ship.
"You'll have to excuse him, Lord Zarbon," replied the taller one with a fist over his chest, slightly bowing at the waist. "He's looking forward to Lord Freeza's famed training facilities." Radditz. That was the man's name. Well, this one had some manners, at least. He wasn't sure how he'd deal with being stuck with only the brat and his bald guardian for any length of time while the ship slowly made its way back to Kold space. Maybe he and Radditz could share grooming tips.
"It is of no matter, warrior. I will show you to your quarters. Come." Fleet-footed, the two followed him around the corridors of the circular vessel until they came to a door looking the same as every other on the ship. With a touch to the panel on the side of the frame, the bulkhead swiftly pulled back into the walls, revealing a Spartan room with a small bathing chamber, bed, and locker. "I apologize that we can't provide more at this time but warrior barracks. We were not expecting the three of you and our capacity is a bit limited. We should be hitting Uzani-4 within a month where a good portion of our onboard troops are being deployed. That should open up more… cozy accommodations."
The broad Commander frowned and brushed past Radditz, entering the proffered room and slammed his fist on the inner panel to shut it, effectively blocking them out. "It looks like that one's occupied. Radditz, your housing is across the hall. Prince Vejiita will be opposite yours around the bend," said Zarbon as he pointed towards the far end of the ship. "He is closest to the training facilities and training starts daily at 05:00 sharp. Do be sure he is prepared." Radditz gave him a puzzled stare, but bowed courteously before retreating to his own room with a muttered farewell. Not sure what the Saiyajin's problem was, Zarbon shrugged and tapped the side of his scouter, homing in on Vejiita's ki signature and indeed found him, shadow-boxing in a corner of one of the weight rooms. He grinned to himself. Yes, this one had promise.
*******
