"You know the drill, Kakkarot. Get to it!" The guardsman's voice boomed across the arena, everyone but Kakkarot shivered. He had been late to guard duty, again, and the punishment was always the same. He was a thrash dummy for the newbies.

Stalking forward, he came to a stop in the center of the field and grunted. The guardsman nodded, "Don't kill anyone this time would you?" Kakkarot gave him a quick wink.

"Yes, sir!"

"Good," the guard turned to the gawking troops behind him. "Fall in! Let's go, let's go!" Kakkarot grinned ferally as the first victim was thrown at him, the young boy jerked his shoulders back and tried to look menacing.

With a shrill yell he lunged at Kakkarot, arms flailing. Kakkarot had to keep from laughing as he punched the boy once soundly in the stomach. Gasping, the boy fell to his knees in the sand.

Kakkarot snapped back to attention. "Next!" Though this wasn't much of a punishment for him anymore, Kakkarot always found he was glad he wasn't a trainer for the new troops. He now understood where his uncle got all of his energy. Dealing with foolish youth was an around the clock job.

Most of the afternoon consisted of troops charging at him one at a time, the monotony was almost too much. Not one had landed a blow, and Kakkarot wasn't satisfied. "There isn't one man among you boys!" A hiss of anger rippled through the group in front of him. He grinned, "You don't think so?" In unison the men replied with a sharp 'no, sir!' "Then where are they?" Kakkarot put a hand to his eyes and feigned to look across their masses for a man.

A soft voice to his left pierced through the clamor of the troops. Turning he saw a short young woman with short, soft spikes of hair. "I'm a man, sir."

Kakkarot laughed, "You're a man?"

Dark eyes, bordered by spikes, narrowed. "According to your standards of a man, sir. Yes I am, sir."

Kakkarot straightened, "All right then. If you can hit me, you can all leave early." A roar of approval ran through the crowd and the short woman took a wide stance in preparation. "That's a good way to get knocked down."

A subtle grunt was his only reply as they were circled by troops. A growl, seemingly too deep to have come from the girl, ripped from her throat and it was on. She lunged swinging her fists in an arc, both easily blocked by Kakkarot. "You'll have to do better than that."

A fortitude of kicks and punches flew, she was much faster than most of the men here, but not that fast. After about five minutes of blocking all of her attempts Kakkarot swung a fist, catching her in the jaw and sending her flying through the assembled crowd. She landed hard on her back and lay still. The group moved away as Kakkarot came forward, bending on one knee to see if she was alive. He pushed his face over hers, feeling light breath tickling his face. As he sighed in relief, a clenched fist flew like lightening and caught him in the mouth.

A cacophony of cheers filled the arena as Kakkarot sat on his ass and touched his busted lips gingerly with his fingertips. Soft footsteps stopped in front of him and a hand extended to him. He looked up at the woman in front of him now smiling like a Cheshire cat. Taking her offered hand, she helped him to his feet.

"You're quite a fighter. You're going to do well in the academy."

Squaring her shoulders she replied, "Thank you, sir."

"What's your name, cadet?"

A sly grin cam to her lips. "Mann, sir. Cherise Mann."

Kakkarot laughed, "Good job, Mann." He turned to the troops behind him and shrugged. "Dismissed!"

*~*~*~*~*

King Vegeta paced the throne room, emissaries were kneeling in submission and respect as he raved. "Well if he's missing, go find the brat! Damn that boy to hell! If he thinks he can get what he wants by running off, he can damn well think again!"

The door of the room opened and Bardock walked quietly forward. "Bardock! It's about time!" King Vegeta turned his fury on the elite. Bardock still stood, not even blinking. "What the hell have you been doing all morning? I've sent emissaries to retrieve you but you weren't anywhere to be seen!"

Bardock cleared his throat. "I was hunting with my youngest son."

King Vegeta's eyes narrowed, "And what the hell were you hunting for?!"

"We needed some bonding time after learning of Radditz' death."

King Vegeta's face softened and he sat motioning Bardock forward. "Forgive an angry King his ramblings. I am sorry for your loss, but I can't help to worry for my own son.

Bardock scratched his head in confusion, "Sire?"

"He's run off." King Vegeta sighed. "I made him angry and he took off like a bat out of hell. I would like you to help search for him."

Bardock nodded. "Of course."

"Your youngest son, Kakkarot, could he help search for Vegeta?"

"No, sire. Neither of my son's have been at the palace long enough to know what he looks like. Though he looks much like his father and has his temper." Bardock grinned.

"Aye, he does." King Vegeta turned to the men still on the floor and spat, "Well??? Go on and find him! And bring him back intact so I can tear him to pieces."

Bardock stood and nodded stepping toward the door.

"Bardock."

He turned and nodded to the king, "Sire?"

"How did we manage to have children? How did _you_ manage to raise two boys of your own when I can't control one?"

Bardock grinned, "Your guess is as good as mine."