AN: Dang, it's hard to come up with vegetable pun names.
Shards of cobalt exploded outward violently, the ceramic splintering apart like frail wood. Another trail of light, and another vase burst, its pieces scattering about in a circular manner. Before a third ki blast could be launched, the destroyer stopped, pausing to feel the air around him. His tail slowly wound its way around his waist as he crouched a bit, flexing his knees in preparation to attack.
Just as the feeling came, he let it go. This person wouldn't harm him.
"Prince! Your highness! Are you there?"
Snorting, Vegeta turned and slapped the button that slid the door to his room open. "Yes, Occoli. What do you want that is so important as to disturb me?"
The poor messenger's eyes widened as he quickly took in the sight of the demolished pots and assorted decorative items. Running a hand through his neatly spiked hair, Occoli bowed and dared not meet the Prince's eyes. Shooting the messenger was not just a figure of speech here, and especially not when dealing with the Prince. "Your father wishes to see you in the War Room, sir. I believe he said it was about the False Saiyans."
Vegeta raised one eyebrow, slowly. "You believe," he emphasized sarcastically. Vegeta slowly paced in a circle around the young servant. "Why do you not know?" His tail uncurled from his waist, and he let it lazily flick back and forth. "Did you not pay attention?" Eyes wide in mock concern, the Prince waited for a response.
Don't show fear, don't show fear. Trying to contain his shaking, Occoli stammered, "No..no sire. I was sent away before the full details were given. I would always try to do right by you, your Highness."
"Really. And here I thought that you were just too scared shitless to stay in the room with my father for longer than necessary." Vegeta's expression shifted to a nasty smile. "Are you not scared of royalty, then?"
Occoli froze. What was the right answer? Well, the Prince has killed for showing fear, so I'd better avoid that route. "No…no sire," he managed to splutter.
"You're not scared of royalty…Occoli?"
"No, sire."
In a blur, Vegeta had the young man pinned against the wall, teeth bared in a display of aggression. Occoli panicked as the dark warrior slowly choked off his air supply with one hand. "Well," his smile turned sadistic and he leaned in close, "you should be." Vegeta then released the messenger, and left the room.
Occoli lay on the floor, crumpled, struggling for breath as the acidic smell of ammonia struck his sensitive nose. Quickly removing his shirt, he cleaned both the floor and his pants stain up from his release.
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Vegeta stalked down the hallway to the War Room, moderately annoyed that he had been disturbed over this "False Saiyan" problem. They have no power, why couldn't they just send a first-class over and have him wipe them out? As others in the corridor hastily bowed toward the Prince, Vegeta lifted his chin imperiously. Bah, why is there all the trouble?
Aggressively slapping his open palm onto the control, Vegeta waited as the door slid open with a hydraulic hiss. Scanning the room, Vegeta recognized some of the top battle minds and warriors in the room along with his father. Aside from the King, the rest of the crew paused to quickly bow to the Prince, who responded by snorting in impatience. "Father, why have you summoned me?" Vegeta questioned in a bored tone.
The King creased his eyebrows together. "It seems as if the False Saiyans are going to be harder to defeat. And," he paused as a wave of disgust crawled over his face, "there appears to be Saiyan sympathizers."
Vegeta's nostrils flared. "Sympathy? From a Saiyan? You must be mistaken."
Nappa suddenly stood, his bulk gaining attention. "I say kill the weaklings who side with the False Saiyans! Wipe both troubles off the planet!"
A general murmur followed, as everyone mulled the outburst over.
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Outside the War Room, a lone Saiyan guard stood to dissuade people through force to not enter the room. He was bored, and spent the time idly forming ki balls in his hand only to reabsorb the energy again. When he saw another Saiyan come up dressed in the guard uniform, he perked up. Finally! Someone to talk to!
"Hey, I'm here to relieve you," the new guy casually stated.
"Really?" The guard was puzzled. He wasn't scheduled for relief for another two hours. "I hadn't heard of that before now."
"Yeah, boss wants you to roam the halls."
The guard paused. He had never seen this new guy before. But, if it meant getting out of standing here… "Thanks. See ya." Pushing off the wall, the guard left to go harass some of his friends down in the mess hall.
"Too easy," the man with a scar over one eye muttered under his breath. He leaned against the wall, appearing as if to be on guard. Slipping one hand into his sleeve, he pulled out a small wire with a suction cup on the end and attached it to the wall. His eyes darted around to make sure no one saw him, and once reassured, he tucked a tiny earpiece into his ear, and tapped a small button.
"…wipe both troubles off the planet!"
Yamucha tried not to smile as he listened in on the conversation in the War Room through Bulma's device. Those Saiyans would never know what hit them.
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"No, you idiot!" the King cried. "We can't sit here and spend our time dividing our forces between deriving who is and is not sympathetic to the cause! We have to focus on the False Saiyans! Stop them, and we stop the condolences!"
A younger man with dark, wild hair rose next. Obviously a first class warrior, his stature and appearance all suggested that he had been raised well. "They have a defensive shield in place. It blocks energy attacks, so we cannot just stand back and blow them away."
Vegeta growled, impatient. "Then we have to fight hand to hand. Fine." Leaning over, he slapped his hand on the mat. "Where is their leader located?"
The general to his right pointed to a mountainous range on the map. "Here. In this valley."
Vegeta smirked. "How stupid can they be?' he taunted. "They deliberately position themselves on the low ground? They are begging for our slaughter!"
Another general shook his head. "It's not that easy, your Highness. They are using the mountains as a natural defensive shield, and the morale is on their side."
A sneer crept its way onto Vegeta's face. "Who is their leader?"
Fishing in his briefcase, the warrior brought out a blurry photo of Bulma. "Her, sire. She is their leader."
"They have a female as their commander?" the King laughed. "Perhaps it is not a problem with the False Saiyans, it is a problem with my fighters," he observed, letting the threat hang unspoken.
Face drawn tightly, Vegeta rose. "Remove the leader, you rip the morale. I will personally go and bring her back alive."
"Alive? Why not kill the puny thing?"
"Because," Vegeta's eyes gained a malicious glint, "I want to make sure she fully understands why she cannot win. I strike their base in a week. Fly in hard and fast. And alone."
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Outside, a suction cup was deftly removed, and a spy flew off to report what he had heard.
K. Nightwing: Trust me, that emotion will return with a vengeance once Bulma and Vegeta meet. I have to craft the whole "war is bleak" thing first, tho. And besides, it'll remind you more of CoE soon. (Impassive, cold Trunks meets hostile girl. Emotions ensue. Course, it'll be love here where it wasn't there, but that's beside the point.) I'm glad you're catching where I slip, tho. And that you review! Sheesh. And when you gonna update?