Chapter 26
Day 3 (in the Galajū's 10-day cycle, that is)
In terms someone from Earth would understand, Sazz was a special planet. The parking hemisphere that Vegeta and all the other Galajū-goers landed on had a crushing gravity fifteen times that of our own planet's. The gravity on the rest of Sazz, a mere 5G, was calmer and similar to any Freeza planet as well as most of the places Vegeta had been to. For a planet the size of our moon, such gravity shouldn't be possible. But again, Sazz was special. Like the moon, it was fixed inside its own orbit. Unlike the moon, it orbited the center of the galaxy, though its path stuck to the outskirts. It wrapped around every solar system, containing them, drawing a clear border separating their galaxy from the rest of the universe. Sazz made a complete trip around the circumference of the galaxy every ten days.
There was no planet more suited to hosting a galaxy-wide martial arts tournament. All day every day, Sazz's soft landing area was pounded with millions of arrivals and departures. The population always stayed at about 10 million, because for every person that landed to see the next tournament, there was someone taking off to go home from the last one.
With spaceship parked and overnight bag in hand, Vegeta and a current of aliens followed the green signs that led to a narrow set of metal doors, unattended. Past these was a moving sidewalk that ran through a corridor lined with the most gorgeous high-definition stills of people fighting. The sidewalk moved fast, much faster than walking speed, and the photographs were arranged so that Vegeta and everyone else could watch an animated fight on their way from one end of Sazz to the other.
After ten minutes the sidewalk slowed and flashed dismounting warnings. They all faced two doorways marked "audience" and "contestants." Vegeta joined the smaller group filing through "contestants." Then it was up a clean marble staircase, very long, Vegeta's pulse picking up, people all around him breaking into a run and he couldn't help but join them, and the next second they crested over the top.
Vegeta blinked as spots flooded his vision—this new area was saturated with natural light and noise. Even his spots were different; they were sparkling and colored in pastel blues, greens, pinks and reds. No, those were actual objects in the room... Saiyan-sized clusters of light standing all in a line. Vegeta watched in confusion as the people ahead of him ran up and hit hands with... "high-fived"... the light clusters one after another.
"Watch it!" Hands pushed him out of the way just as a tusked giant twice the height of Nappa lumbered past. Whoever had pushed him was strong, strong enough to knock him off balance. Vegeta stumbled around to see a girl with clear eyes, smooth skin, and slimy-looking orange hair. She was still in the contestants' line but stopped when they made eye-contact. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"Of course not, if you did I'd—"
"—Good," she interrupted, only sounding cheerful because she hadn't heard what he had been about to say. "Good, or maybe you're in shock and can't feel the pain yet? Either way, if you need some help you can look to me." And to Vegeta's actual shock she grabbed his hand and pulled him—actually pulled him—back in line. He tried to break free but her grip just tightened. In an instant he was standing still in the middle of a small room with his armor in the corner, a chill wafting through the air... but the girl let go and it all disappeared. With a glance and a smile over her shoulder at him she held out her hand and began to high-five her way down the energy line. Reluctantly, Vegeta followed her. His hand went right through the first blue palm of light, but it stung and
Welcome to the Galajūichi Budōkai!
Before Vegeta could recover from whatever that was, he was already hitting the next one, green this time,
Enjoy the energy-rich food served in every restaurant with ingredients locally sourced from the forest of Sazz!
The voice was in his head. Like a thought. It was repulsive, he had to
You have arrived on day 3, well into the preliminary matches. But don't worry—there's plenty of time for you to fight your own matches and see if you qualify for the Galajūichi Budōkai semi-finals, which will take place on the 7th, 8th, and 9th days. Remember, day 10 is completely devoted to the single match between the two strongest people in the galaxy!
Please note that use of the training rooms follows a strict queue and is limited to one hour per group! Show up early for a good spot on the waitlist to get the training time you need!
His hand felt more and more raw after every
Popular destinations include Chickplus park! Tournament City plays host to the Galajūichi, and it's peppered with gift shops! They have sweets! Souvenir spaceship decals! Posters illustrating dramatic moments from past matches! Their newest release: a thrilling video of the legendary battle between Martial Martian Mik and Reefus!
Speaking of, don't forget to sign your photo-and-video-for-promotional-purposes form at registration! Participation in the Galajū is forbidden without it!
Signature Garry sashes! Limited edition!
Train your mind at the dramatic, but historically accurate, Museum of War!
Pay your respects at the tragic "Tomb of 1,000,000 Artists!"
What on Sazz went wrong? Detailed analysis of last cycle's controversial semi-finals, held on day seven in the plaza!
Finally having gone through the whole line, Vegeta stumbled free feeling like he'd been chewed up and spat out. His entire palm was a bright cherry red. He stared at it in horror, not paying attention to the registrar in front of him trying to pass over a form.
"Valued guest," the registrar prompted impatiently. "Please sign our—"
"What is this?" Vegeta demanded, shoving his red hand in the man's face.
"The Cheeings—that's chi beings, yes, beings made of chi—were simply taking a flesh sample. It adds your genetic code to their hivemind as a contestant to give you priority in queues and know your location to send reminders for upcoming matches. That sort of thing."
"Tell me how to reverse it," Vegeta said instantly. Neither the registrar nor the red Cheeing nearest to them knew, but a larger clump of chi floated his way and told him by speaking unpleasantly in his head. Then he was running backwards down the opposite side of the line and hitting all the Cheeings' other hands with his raw one.
Vegeta watched the excited line of new contestants move along for perhaps a minute, before quietly walking through the side door marked "audience."
*⁂*⁂*
"Um, excuse me! Hey, you!"
Having found his sleeping quarters and dumped his things, Vegeta was so hard at work deciding whether or not he'd made a huge mistake as he left the building that he completely missed the voice. He looked up with a start as the orange girl from before stepped in front of him.
"What happened to you?" she asked lightly. "I was waiting at the contestant's exit but you never came out."
"Yeah, I didn't," Vegeta said, continuing past her. She followed at his side.
"You got your prelim schedule, right? How many fights are you down for?"
"I changed my mind. I'm not competing."
"Ah, yes," the girl said wisely. "It's your first time here, I can tell. No shame in getting a lay of the land first, it helps with nerves."
"What are you talking about?" Vegeta asked coldly, picking up his pace. "What's your power level? No, don't tell me. Is it over 10,000?"
She ducked her head. "Uh... yes, I think it is. I haven't checked in a while. 10,000... that's a tall order, so you must be up there as well. Do you want a match? Is that what you were thinking?"
"Yeah. I came here to fight." ... And I'm going to do it without sleep-fighting a bunch of 1,000s in the preliminaries, he didn't add. This girl was one more question away from becoming annoying, but she was okay where she was now. As long as she really was more than 10,000...
"Then why did you...? I have a spot held in training room 57, fifteen minutes from now," she said. "It's for one person only and audience members aren't allowed, but I think I can sneak you in..."
"Lead the way." To Vegeta, the look on the girl's face and her tone of voice were familiar. She thought she was going to win before they had even started. Just as well, because he thought he was going to win.
*⁂*⁂*
A man had a good lunch and he was still hungry so he decided to make brownies. Everything was going well until he tapped an egg against the side of the bowl and it wouldn't crack. He hit it harder. Nothing. Harder still, harder than he would have thought necessary. Nothing. He felt a brief flash of anger and the urge to lie the egg on the table and crush it under his hand but he stopped himself. He couldn't get kicked out of this youth hostel, it was forty degrees below outside and he had nowhere else to go.
The egg cracked neatly on the fourth tap, anyways.
*⁂*⁂*
"Hey. Get up, our time's almost over," Vegeta said to the girl, Mata, on the floor.
"Wh—whew. Good fight," she panted, wiping her forehead on her sleeve and climbing to her feet. "Your name's Vegeta? You should have registered. I would have made sure to look out for you in the prelims."
"Wouldn't do any good, the way you lost," Vegeta smirked. She stared at him. "Oh, I mean, you're pretty good, uh, very balanced, just not good enough."
"I'm sure you're right," Mata said with a strangely benevolent look in her eyes. The ceiling bell chimed and it was time to switch out with the next batch of contestants. Mata distracted the door guards, old friends of hers, while Vegeta slipped past.
"I guess it doesn't matter if they catch you," Mata said thoughtfully on their way out of the building. "It's not like they can kick you out of the tournament."
"Kick me out?" Vegeta looked behind him at the guards, whose gazes rested a solid two feet over his head. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking. With a planet like this, they could dump us years and years away from where we got on. Who wants that?"
"Oh, they wouldn't do that," Mata scoffed. "Especially if the rules—"
"Then again, getting off on that side might not be so bad," Vegeta said to himself. "Our half's finished. Boring. Done-and-dusted."
"What are you talking about? Oh,"—Mata noticed the fading sunlight (generated by LEDs in the atmosphere, of course)—"are you one of those solar-powered ones? In that case, I better get you back. I hope your room's set up with a light generator."
"Mm. Good fight," Vegeta said, lost in his thoughts. "You're right, it's time to go to bed. How about another match tomorrow morning?" Then he backtracked. "Unless you want to save your energy for your official matches, that is..." Would a non-Saiyan ever turn down a fight?
"No, let's do a rematch tomorrow!" Mata said, eyes sharp. "I have to get stronger even during these few days if I want to win. I have to beat you, at least. I don't know why you didn't register, Vegeta, but if you're an audience member I can't lose to you again."
"Okay. 'Night."
They went their separate ways. Vegeta was already looking forwards to fighting Mata again—her reflexes were strong, her technique was sophisticated, and beating her had been a challenge—but one girl wasn't enough to make this trip. Today made a small splash from falling into the pond, but tomorrow he'd have to start swimming.
Day 4 of 10
"Someone at my age with my power level can only go so far. This Galajūichi will be my last, though I've made enough friends here for the rest of my fishy life."
Vegeta gave a look of mild interest to the teary-eyed group of people surrounding a speaker, but didn't stop on his way to the water station. Mata joined him seconds later.
"You're holding out longer than you did yesterday," Vegeta remarked, handing two glasses of ice water to her and pouring another two for himself. After gulping down the first, they threw the second into each other's faces.
"I told you, I'm not going to lose to an audience member," Mata said mysteriously, the water sliding off her hair like it was nylon and splashing on the floor.
"..." There was only one reason Vegeta bothered fighting her again. "You're hiding something and I'm going to find out what it is."
Mata shrugged with a smile. "Expect to be disappointed. I'm a straight-forward kind of girl. We better get back, the hour's almost half over and it feels like we've barely started."
Twenty minutes later, Vegeta was well past pissed. She was obviously losing. But even as she took his hits she didn't look surprised, and therefore didn't look like she was losing. She looked like she was letting him win. He knew it wasn't appropriate or safe to break out his full strength in a sparring match, but she was asking for it... "Are you doing this because you want me to go there? Because I will," Vegeta said, trying to stay calm.
"I'm not doing anything besides my best," Mata said, crawling out from under his hands with effort. "And I can only assume you're doing the same."
"Simple talk from a simple girl, huh?" Vegeta sneered. "I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt... why are you making it so hard? If there's really nothing else to you, I'm walking out of here right now and I'll mark the fight we had yesterday as wasted time."
"Hey!" Mata was indignant at that. "Is nothing sacred? Come back! What are you doing?" She went to chase after him.
"The only way you won't lose to me, an audience member, is if I withdraw. I'm doing you a favor. So long, Mata, and thanks for being such a pain in—" Vegeta gasped as a hard blow rammed into his back. He fell face-first to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He had barely rolled over and started to breathe again when he saw Mata slip out the doors, face wracked with a strange combination of anger, anxiety and a look like she was on the verge of hitting herself on the head.
She stopped in the hallway and turned. "Meet me for lunch tomorrow?" Vegeta, still stuck on the ground, could only nod in amazement. And then she was gone.
Facing his own distracting mixture of confusion and embarrassment, Vegeta needed a break. Somehow he'd managed to get roped into fighting one single person when the whole point of coming here was variety. It must be the errand he still needed to do. Okay, he'd pop out for an hour to take care of it and then return with a clean slate.
Vegeta rode the moving sidewalk back to the parking hemisphere. Those two dogs were on his mind, and he knew that once he gave them a lesson and a message he would have no more distractions and this would work.
He had planned on finding their ships first and going from there. He found his easily, and asked one of the powdery white valets where two others of the same make were, but no dice. The valet searched the computer system and said his, Vegeta's, was the only combatant pod (he called it a "single-rider model") on the planet.
"Am I losing my mind?" Vegeta muttered to himself. He knew he had been followed from the billboard, and he was sure he had seen one of their ships being taken away when he first got out.
"Probably," said the donut valet. "If you say they got on at the same time as you, that is."
"They could have just left early."
"Impossible. Everyone leaves the day they board on. If that wasn't the rule, we'd change from a tournament to a galactic bus service."
Vegeta wandered away. Well... if they were off the planet, that was good enough. He'd be nice and let them off the hook. If they had really left, that is. If they showed up again to bother him, they'd be dead. That was a nice compromise.
Vegeta clapped his hands together with satisfaction, looked up, and realized he was lost. No big deal. Sure, the parkade was dimly lit and nearly empty, but he'd find someone to ask for directions eventually. Noticing a heavy-looking industrial door across the lot, he hesitated to go back the way he came. His back was starting to hurt and his breathing was getting labored from the gravity. 15G... three times as much as the Freeza Force's 5G, he remembered. It was exciting, losing energy from just walking around, just existing under this gravity. He wanted to know how long he could last training in it.
But that's impossible, Vegeta thought as he crossed the lot. With all these rules, there's no way they would let me spend time down here, especially with all these expensive spaceships lying around.
He opened the door, unlocked but heavy under the gravity. The grating screech and the dark and dusty room inside whispered its abandonment to Vegeta. The room was much smaller than the parkade, though still larger than his quarters on the other side of the planet. Noticing the wall-to-wall panel across from him sent a shiver down Vegeta's spine. The heat coming off of it... the smell of rare metals and electricity... and the humming that was both high and low in pitch... this machine almost had an aura of its own. He didn't know its purpose, but he could sense its importance.
Other than that ominously unknown piece, this room was perfect. Large enough and out of the way. Obviously forgotten. Vegeta wanted to stay and explore this new possibility, mostly to stay in the strangely comforting weight of 15G, but he had to get back. The preliminary matches of the day had already started. He carefully noted the section number on the wall of his abandoned parkade and proceeded to walk around for an hour and a half without running into a single valet. He was getting the feeling that visitors weren't expected to spend time in the parking hemisphere during their stay.
By the time he finally found his way out and around the planet, he was too late. Standing in the bustling central plaza for a minute was all it took to hear that the matches were over. The sky was blushing with the faintest hint of rouge, the cool air carried the scents of food cooking for supper, and Vegeta had lived through a day so unproductive he couldn't stand it. Fighting Mata for a measly sixty minutes? Not enough. Not even close.
Vegeta's heart started beating harder. He was suddenly aware of every single alien around him—eating something deep-fried to his left, arguing with parents behind him, holding hands and chattering away around the corner. He swallowed and flexed his fingers, eyes darting around. He had always lived his life in one of three states: travelling through deep space in deep sleep... training for hours every day... and going on missions. So which state was he in now?
The best way to get rid of crowds was to blow up the entire area at once. He found the tallest buildings that would create the biggest piles of rubble, the buildings with glass that would fly out into the eyes and under the feet, the path he would take to slice the crowds of people in half as the world around them collapsed... He was already going into extermination campaign mode on the second day. He'd have to train on his own for hours if he wanted to shake these thoughts. Maybe coming to the Galajū was a bad idea, maybe he wasn't enough of a civilian...
Vegeta's thoughts were cut by a clatter and a cry. A young woman had collapsed ahead of him, knocking over a medical machine attached to her with tubes. A man of her species (same short legs and long body, same thin face and wavy hair, same blue circles decorating each cheek) bent over her prone form, hands probing her neck as he let out another pitiful wail.
The first thing that Vegeta noticed as he passed them was that the machine's tubes snaked out of sight into the woman's mouth, stuffing it full with maybe five or six plastic ones of varying size. The second thing he noticed was that the woman was unconscious and definitely not breathing. He continued on his way.
"Daylee Chou, where are you?! She's in a pinch again!" No one in the nervous crowd responded to the panicking man, even though everyone had stopped to watch. "No... oh, dear... stay with me! Maj... Maj! Don't go, please don't go, it's too soon... We haven't even seen one fight yet!"
Vegeta calmly backtracked. "What happened?" he asked the weeping man.
"Sh—she's been sick for a long time... we brought a nurse, but we lost track of him..." The man almost fell on top of the woman, his arms were shaking so badly. "... I think her heart may have stopped."
Vegeta kneeled down beside them and confirmed it: no pulse. I wonder... The man jumped to his feet and pushed away into the crowd, but Vegeta didn't notice. Could I do it? Without killing her?
He rose, slowly and thoughtfully, and pointed the first and middle fingers of his right hand at the woman. They started to glow as he concentrated his chi, a familiar sight. This was one of his favorite attacks, the one where he just pointed at someone and they burst, though he could only use it on opponents who were much weaker than himself. He had almost forgotten its original purpose, taught to him foolishly by a doctor whose name didn't matter. He had misused it for so long that he doubted it would work, but if it did, he would have to transplant an amount of chi smaller than ever before.
Here goes.
Daylee Chou, the nurse, arrived on the scene five minutes later. He apologized for stopping at a gift shop as he was dragged shamefully through the crowd. His employer threw him, even more shamefully, at the feet of a young boy with jet-black hair and tanned skin.
"My goodness, Daylee, do you know what this boy has just done? You must thank him for handling our emergency in your absence."
"I thank you with my highest regards," Daylee mumbled to Vegeta, head bowed in failure.
"And thank him on my behalf."
"Additionally, the prince thanks you with his highest regards."
"And Maj, too."
"The princess thanks you with her highest regards as well." Maj was on the ground sucking for air, struggling but alive. Her eyes briefly lingered on Vegeta's face, then unfocused as she strained to breathe through the tubes. Daylee, overeager now, rushed to her side and began something that Vegeta could barely see over his shoulder. It was probably intentional, because in the next second the prince had set up a flowery privacy screen around the nurse and the princess. But still the crowd of people didn't disperse, and after a moment a hand stuck out of one end of the screen and quickly beckoned Vegeta over.
Daylee Chou was in the middle of a complicated dance with the tubes, pulling and adjusting and filling bags with clear blue gel and purple fluid. Vegeta was sure he saw Daylee's arm down Maj's throat past the elbow but the next second he was using both hands to stick an IV in her arm. The prince was kneeling at Maj's side and holding her hand, in a daze.
"I know you didn't have a choice to help her, given how valuable she is," Daylee said, not looking away from his work, "but I'm really impressed you were able to help her in the first place. Take this." He shoved a fistful of Uni at Vegeta in between tasks. "That's also to forget what you're seeing here, and to find a way to get the crowd moving along. We don't want them staring anymore. Okay? Shove off now."
Still not having said a word, Vegeta stepped away with his money. The bizarre scene caught up with him and he had to laugh. He didn't mind that he missed the preliminaries anymore. He had just saved someone's life, essentially by accident, and a pretty important someone by the looks of things. And now he had a crowd of people to scatter that was growing bigger by the second as the news spread.
Maybe he'd fire off a few small chi blasts instead of one big one. At least to start.
Some people screamed and some people laughed as a shower of mini comets rained down on the plaza, but most of them were running in the other direction and none of them were paying attention to the three royals anymore. With his prince carefully holding the screen above them as cover, Daylee Chou carried Maj and her equipment towards their nearby apartment building. He didn't think anyone had seen anything too revealing. Good. Part of his job was, after all, to make sure the prince and princess's presence at the Galajū was mysterious and dignified. Even though he felt absolutely sick and lied about gift shops when he really had to run off somewhere private. He had to get a grip on himself and do his job properly. It was the least he could do—this was the last time Princess Maj would be allowed to leave the Cloute Kingdom.