--- The Phoenix Chronicles ---

Chapter 26 - Storytelling with Style

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few days had passes since the fight on the bait planet, and for once, the three Saiyan men were not standing vigil on the bridge. Truniz was lounging around in the refectory, re-acquainting himself with an old friend; Oosquai. Avarrdo was buried in the workshop he'd set up in the cargo bay, busy creating his next great invention; at least, that's what he claimed. Lastly, Kellre was busy in the training room, and had been for several hours; of the three, he was the only one serious about his training.

As for the rest of the group, the twins were currently in the holo deck, running around in a simulation of the forests of Vegeta-Sei; fortunately, for her safety, and sanity, Viola was spending the day meditating with Flute. Frost, proving he had no life, was maintaining a vigil on the bridge, and similarly, so was Avery. Pi and Kat were currently in the latter's room, sorting out a mix-up in bags from their last splurging spree, and, while they were there, talking about whatever it is girls talk about during 'girl time', and may the Elder Kai have mercy on anyone stupid enough to stumble into it; by chance of fate, April and Raene were doing the same.

And as for Kaen, he was headed to the training room, after a quick snack and a drink or five with his mate's uncle, of course. The training room was designed such that people could freely enter and leave without disrupting the internal settings, but did so at their own hazard; after all, it was designed by Saiyans, with Saiyans in mind. However, it was fairly obvious when the room was being used, thus it was polite to ask permission to join someone already using the room.

As the door slid shut behind him, Kaen immediately sought out the room's current occupant, asking, "Mind a bit of company?"

Kellre paused mid-stance to reply, "Not at all." Kaen just nodded once in silent thanks, and respect, before the two fell into their separate workouts. Even when his memory was still hazy, Kaen knew instinctively that Kellre was a man worthy of respect, and not just because he was Pi's father. Nor was it his size, standing in at well over seven feet tall, and yet not being lanky. It was his eyes. Even by Saiyan standards, his glares were impressive, to the point most Saiyans he knew were convinced Kellre could've stared down Frieza himself; whether or not that was fact or crap had yet to be proven either way.

The older man took a casual note of the younger's pace, but didn't adjust his own. It was only a light workout for both - a mere 50 G's - but it was enough to get the blood pumping, and the muscles working, as the pair worked through their individual kata. As Kaen finished his first one, a fairly short sequence designed to increase speed, he slipped into one he'd yet to perfect, a pure technical one; why he'd chosen a style he knew he made mistakes with, while under the scrutiny of one of the few people he respected he had no idea, but if the older man noticed anything, he made no sign.

In fact, Kellre's eyes didn't even seem focused on him, more looking through him, and he was staring with such intensity one would think the meaning of existence itself was blocked from Kellre's sight by Kaen; he had to admit, even if only to himself, that being under such heavy scrutiny made him nervous. Pausing mid-strike, he asked semi-defensively, "What?"

Kellre's eyes came back into focus, and he muttered to himself, "Interesting..." He made no sign he'd even heard Kaen speak, so, raising an eyebrow at him in question, he picked up where he left off, flowing from that style into one he'd created himself when he was younger, and the one he first used to teach Pi. From the smirk on his face, Kellre clearly recognized it, as he commented, "Ah, yes. That technique was most interesting; simplistic, and with few flaws, yet a very well held intensity to it. Most impressive, considering the age you were when you created it."

Kellre recognized the style well: it was based on what Kaen had observed of other Saiyan's forms, adapted to suit his own needs. Unfortunately, it had the same problem they did, that of requiring brute strength and raw power to overwhelm the enemies defences before tiring yourself out, only more so, given his lack of experience at the time; fortunately, both he, and Pi, had more than enough strength to use it, given their unique... modifications, but most everyone else would be unable to use it. Its only other flaw was that, against a regenerating opponent, it was useless.

Kaen just shrugged, not missing a step as he replied, "I tried. Had to do it right first time." What neither man wanted to mention was that it was the style he had created while out in the wilderness, after he'd ran away upon news of his brother's death; after all, no use opening old wounds.

Kellre just nodded, musing, "What I am most interested in is your, more recent techniques."

"Gonna have to be a bit more specific," Kaen replied, drawing to a stop, "I've picked up quite a bit these past twelve months, or four years, whatever calendar you're using."

With another nod, Kellre expanded his point with, "Your... transformations. I've been watching the playbacks of earlier encounters. They are most interesting."

Kaen noticed the way he stressed the word 'interesting', and Kellre noticed the way Kaen flinched at the word 'encounters', both clearly able to understand the other was thinking about the incident with Pi's temporary death, and also able to understand the other's thoughts on the matter, with no words needed. To avoid the unpleasant direction that conversation could lead, Kaen just flared into Rage Pyre with a shrug, failing to notice the red tinge to both his hair and eyes, not that the tinge became stronger every time he used it; he only knew it got easier the more he did it. "You mean this one?" Without waiting for a reply, he flared into his golden form, knowing it would most likely be the subject, "Or this one?"

The older man nodded when Kaen hit the second form. Kaen knew the conversation was leading here from the moment it started, and Kellre knew that he knew, as words were long since obsolete for the pair for such things; body language was the voice of the warrior. "That one," he supplied, asking, "How long can you maintain it?"

Kaen just shrugged again, throwing a few test punches before replying, "Dunno. Never really tried holding it for any period outside of battle or training. Managed to keep it for at least four hours though, but that was pushing the limits of what my body could withstand, so maybe more in relaxed conditions."

"I see," Kellre muttered thoughtfully, rubbing his chin, "Most interesting."

Kaen continued on as if he hadn't been interrupted, throwing a few more faster-than-light punches as he added, "Far as I know Pi's managed to get it to 'bout two, two and a half hours, maybe even three, but she hasn't really tried to push her limits like I have, yet anyway." From the tone of his voice, it was clear he meant to change that, and fast.

"I see," Kellre replied absently, commenting to himself, "So, it isn't just localised to the royal bloodline..."

"Royal bloodline?" Kaen asked curiously, pausing mid-punch, before relaxing again, and turning to face the man fully, adding, "Wait, you know what this form is?"

"Not so much knowledge, but legend." Kellre replied, in the lecturing tone he knew well.

"Legend?" Kaen prompted; this topic confused him, and he hated being confused. Confusion lead to anger, which lead to acts of violence, and if we didn't get answers soon, there would be much violence.

Kellre just gave a cryptic smile, "Ah, but such things are perhaps best left as stories. However, there are often exceptions, such as your sword. Such things are unheard of among most races in this galaxy, if not the universe itself, and yet, there it is." His smile became a full blown grin, "Or isn't, as the case may be."

Kaen's right eye, right hand, and the right side of his mouth all twitched at once, almost as if he'd had a mini-seizure; this situation was irritating, amusing, and infuriating all at the same time. Trying to remain polite, or at least as polite as he ever saw, he commented, "You gonna start making sense any time soon?" Reaching a hand up, he drew his blade, adding, "And my sword's right here, but I assume you knew that; my question is how?"

Kellre just laughed, "Yes, I was aware you had it, and I assume you always have it; I noticed my eyes looking around your shoulder, and connected the dots. I will, however, try to slow down for you. Tell me of the weapon, it's exact properties. That you know of anyway."

He could sense there was more the man wasn't saying, but he had no reason not to trust him, so he replied, "Very well. First, because it was forged through our ki, it's bonded to Pi and I, and reacts to us accordingly, as well as storing a few of our techniques. It also stores actual ki inside as well." Spinning the sword once around in his hand, the blade burst into flame as he added, "When I use it I can ignite the blade..." With another spin, the flame died out, and another burst from the hilt, forming a second blade; "...and it can shift into this form, where it's more balanced, but can't channel ki as well." Spinning it one final time, the blade returned to normal as he concluded, "There's probably more, but I can't think of any off the top of... Ah, right, it also increases the potency of our ki, meaning we need to use less."

"May I hold it?" Kellre asked simply.

Kaen just spun the sword 180, holding it out hilt first as he said, "Be my guest."

Kellre just gave a bob of his head as he reached out his right hand, passing it over Kaen for a moment before grasping the sword, as his hand began glowing a soft red. As the older man took the sword from him, Kaen was surprised to see that the sword did not revert to it's default state, staying the red-glowing flame-style it was when he held it. He was even more surprised when it lit up in flame, like he himself had done with it. "Well balanced, good craftsmanship." Kellre commented, performing a deft parry against an invisible opponent, "You do your father proud."

Despite the shock he felt, Kaen managed to reply, "Guess I had pick up some of my old man's talent."

Kellre nodded as he raised his left hand, which took on a soft green glow, and he switched the sword into his other hand. As he did so, the blade of the sword started glowing green as it became perfectly straight, and even that word couldn't describe it; it looked more keen than any other sword. Also, Kaen's eyes noticed, for the briefest second both Kellre's hands had been touching it, it glowed orange.

As was usual, shock turned to anger, as Kaen barked out, "Alright, how are you doing that? Unless I botched the construction somehow, it should be ki bonded, meaning only reactive to Pi or I, and as far as I know, your ki signature is like your fingerprint."

Kellre answered the question the way he answered every question ever posed to him; obscurely. "Did you know that it's possible to make gloves that mimic other people's finger and palm prints?"

Kaen just groaned, "Damnit, I should've guessed; you're copying us. I thought your signature felt odd, but I figured it was interference from the sword; after all, it does seem to have a signature all of it's own."

The shit-eating grin on Kellre's face spoke loudly enough, so he didn't comment; instead, he changed the subject. "So, do you even know how to use this thing properly, or do you just swing it around, hoping you'll hit something vital?"

Kaen barely fought back a wince at his description, replying, "Well, not quite how I would have phrased it, but... I'm willing to admit I'm not that good. What little I do know it self-taught; no one seems to use the good old classics anymore..." He finished with a wry grin.

"Fair enough," was Kellre's neutral reply, and with that, he threw the sword into the air, so it would fall towards Kaen hilt first. Without looking, Kaen snatched it from the air, spinning it once to kill its momentum before holding it loosely at his side, his eyes focused on the man across from him. He watched as Kellre seemed to shift his shoulders, before drawing from behind him, at about waist height, a sword with a blade of pure white light, that actually seemed to absorb the light around it rather than cast it; like Kaen's, it was near impossible to tell it was there before it was drawn.

Kaen just nodded respectfully, commenting, "Impressive. Seems I'm not as original as I thought."

Kellre just smirked, holding the sword diagonally from his body, towards the floor. "Pi learned a few things from me as well, though indirectly; after all, our fighting spirit is in our blood. So, are you ready?"

Kaen tensed on the inside; Kellre had just admitted calmly, and subtly, that he had been living by the sword for at least twenty standard years. On the outside, however, Kaen was beyond such things as worry; emotion didn't belong on the battlefield. Instead, he fell into a fairly loose, defensive stance, replying with a grin, "Let's dance."

A simple nod of the head indicated the start of the fight, followed quickly by a diagonal slice to Kaen's torso. With a quick flick of the wrist, Kaen inverted the hold he had on his sword, such that the blade was facing downwards, and the blades clashed in a shower of sparks; like that, blocking was less awkward, and allowed the full strength of his arm to be used.

Another nod of his head indicated the start of the next round, as Kellre slid his blade down Kaen's, somehow avoiding the jagged edges of the blade, as he thrust the blade towards Kaen's shoulder. The younger man just twisted out of the way, keeping his sword against his arm as he stepped out of range of the potentially crippling blow. "Excellent, " Kellre commented, "This lesson may go very well indeed. Perhaps even without bloodshed." He held his sword in a middle stance, neither offensive, nor defensive, but easy to switch between each.

The flame-haired Saiyan fell into a hybrid stance, geared for both hand-to-hand and melee combat, with his left arm held before him defensively, and the right above his head, his sword still held in reverse, with the blade resting against his forearm. Without warning, Kellre advanced with a spinning strike towards Kaen's side, but the younger man just took to the air, leaping over both Kellre, and the arc of his sword, spinning around to make a counter-strike. The old blademaster was expecting that, however, continuing the spin to arch back and block Kaen's strike, which he answered with a kick to his mid-section. Kaen raised his knee to block the kick, using both arms to brace his sword and keep the blades together, before using a small burst of ki to leap off his right leg, spinning backwards to throw a retaliatory kick, which Kellre merely jumped back from.

Relaxing a moment, Kellre commented, "You do well, but so far I have only seen you defend."

Taking a step back, Kaen resumed his stance, commenting, "I've found that sometimes the best offence is a strong defence, at least until you know what you're up against." Grinning, he added, "But if you insist..."

Almost the second Kaen sprang forward to attack, Kellre instantly found his fault. For the first half of the fight, Kaen had been on the defensive, something he had never done in his training, and thus, something he had to learn. Offence, however, was something Kaen was intimately familiar with, and Kellre could see he had applied the same principles to both; simply put, he was putting far too much energy into his strikes, trying to overpower his opponent. 'Well,' Kellre mused to himself, 'We'll have to un-learn that.'

Waiting until the very last second, Kellre arched aside, driving his fist into Kaen's stomach hard enough to wind him, barking out, "This is a sword fight, not a slug-fest. Foolish moves like that against someone trying to kill you will result in your death."

Raising his sword, Kaen growled, "I can see why you and the old man get along..." Wasting no more time on words, Kaen charged forward again.

Kellre had enough time to roll his eyes before bringing his sword up to block, before proceeding to slap the younger man across the face just hard enough to be insulting. "Stop lugging that thing around like your ego. You're lacking the key principle when it comes to sword play."

Wheeling back, Kaen modified his grip on the sword, coming in with a few rapid swings as he said, "Enlighten me then."

With his left arm behind his back, Kellre parried all blows using a single arm, and about one tenth of the power Kaen was, before commenting as though it were the most obvious thing in the universe, "Finesse."

Rolling his eyes as he kept up the attack, Kaen muttered, "And where the hell could I have learnt that? Last proper teacher I had was killed when I was barely five standard years, remember?" Stepping back, he fell into a relaxed stance, adding, "I'm still getting used to doing things differently to how I taught myself as a kid."

"You always were a quick study Kapskaen," Kellre smirked, "Let us hope you have retained that skill."

o-o-o

For the next ten hours the two trained, Kellre drilling Kaen on the art, the principle, and, of course, the finesse involved with the sword, and, true to form, Kaen's battle-hardened mind soaked it up. Towelling off after the long training session, Kaen turned to the grizzled blademaster with a grin on his face, asking, "So, do I pass?"

Kellre just barked a laugh, replying, "Barely." He knew Kaen did well, and he knew Kaen knew that he'd done well, but he had no intention of buffering his ego.

"Good enough." Still grinning, he absently tossed his sword into the air, leaning to one side as it flipped in mid-air, before falling directly into the hidden sheath on his back. Kellre just shifted his shoulders again, dropping the hidden sheath for his sword to his waist, sheathing it properly before hitching it back up to his shoulder again.

"As for talk of legend, I have a story for you." Kellre commented out of the blue.

A little surprised at the return to this topic, Kaen replied, "I've always liked stories."

"As you know," Kellre began, "You father and I do more than just tinker with machines, although that is a particular passion of his. We also created techniques to aid in battle, and to strengthen the Saiyan race as a whole. You may not know it but, when you were younger, do you remember being told to drink a dark blue liquid that tasted like something you might have stepped in?" The sour look on Kaen's face said enough, as Kellre grinned, "Yes, that concoction served a vital purpose. With it, you are no longer vulnerable to pain when someone was to grab your tail."

"Couldn't you have done something about the taste?" Kaen asked with a cough; he could still remember what it tasted like, and it was a phantom taste he could do without.

Kellre just gave him a blank look, "Would you prefer to be paralysed if someone were to grab your tail in the middle of a fight, or a more... sensitive moment?"

Shaking his head, Kaen replied defensively, "I'm not complaining about the results, just how they came about." Grinning a bit, he added, "Then again, I 'spose it wouldn't be medicine if it didn't taste bad now would it?"

Kellre grinned back, before mentioning, "Besides, we tried to do something about the taste, but the chemical compound separated itself from anything we added to it." Exhaling harshly, he added quickly, and quietly, "Although I will admit you were a bit of a test subject for that particular formula..."

"Fair enough," Kaen replied, "I guess it's a small enough price for... Wait a second!" He shouted, "Test subject? Just how many of your experiments was I a guinea pig for?"

"It... can no longer be measured in numbers, only abstract theories, but we're off topic," Kellre replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, before picking up his tale, "Other techniques of ours are less known. The Hyperspace Cannon used in this ship was one of your fathers, and I trust you remember that technique from our last sortie."

"I assume you don't use that one much," Kaen commented dryly.

Kellre looked deathly serious as he continued, "There is a serious side effect to it's use; I don't know what it is, but I can feel it. That is perhaps the seventh time I have used it, and each time I felt something different, but I can't explain what happened; only that something did."

"I think I have at least a vague idea..." Kaen commented quietly, clenching his fist, which, for a moment, was enshrouded in pure white flame, before they died out as suddenly as they flared up.

Kellre shook his head, "More than erase their existence from space and time; this technique was designed to be used on Frieza..."

"I'm not trying to dispute it," Kaen interjected before the man could launch into one of his lectures, remarkably unsurprised that he knew the workings of his Balefire, "I'm just trying to say that I understand about techniques with effects beyond our comprehension, and about power sometimes coming with a great, and potentially unknown, price we must pay eventually."

Kellre nodded once, showing he understood Kaen's point, before saying, "There's more to it than just that though. The after effect may actually be my own slow death, and, if so, I assume that the stronger the opponent, the more of my life is burned away each time; someone strong enough might result in an instant death. I just don't know for sure."

"Best we don't find out the hard way then," Kaen commented, with a borderline respectful tone, which warred with the grin threatening to appear on his face.

"Indeed." Kellre replied, "But we digress. One of the things the King tasked me with was to find out if the Legend of the Super Saiyan was more than just that. Legend."

"Super Saiyan?" Kaen asked incredulously.

"Don't be daft boy," Kellre shot back, shaking his head, "You know the legend as well as any other Saiyan with a lust for power. A thousand years ago, more perhaps, there was a Saiyan in his transformed state, who became what was also termed as the Golden Oozaru. Getting any of this?"

"I'm writing it all down," he replied dryly. His tone showed that he was indeed listening, but wasn't going to stand for being lectured at again.

"Anyway," Kellre continued, "Conventional power changes, much like your 'Rage Pyre', are used to amplify strength on a physical basis, increasing it by fractions of your existing power. The Super Saiyan transformation has been theorised to be entire, doubling, or even tripling, strength, speed, and power all at once. Many believe this is something held exclusively in the royal bloodline, as they are the direct descendants of the original Super Saiyan."

Kaen nodded thoughtfully, "Things are starting to make a bit more sense now..." His head snapped up, as he interjected, "Wait a minute. You're saying that this transformation of mine-" He absently realised that he hadn't changed back since Kellre asked him to show it to him, meaning he'd been holding it for over ten hours now, shattering his old record; "-might actually be the Super Saiyan transformation? There's no way. It's meant to be the peak of Saiyan power, but I can feel more, just waiting to be released."

"I was getting to that, before you interrupted." Focusing inwardly for a moment, Kaen watched as Kellre's hair flashed a vibrant blonde for a split second, and his eyes the focused green he recognized, but as quickly as it came it faded. "I know you can sense power," Kellre commented, in a voice that showed he'd be asking the particulars at a later date, "What did you feel?"

"A massive jump in power. From candle, to nova, and back again." He shrugged, "I can't explain it better than that."

"That's alright; it demonstrated enough," Kellre replied calmly, "And it is still untapped, probably not even full potential. Even your transformation, which you can maintain for four hours-"

"Ten." Kaen interrupted, "Set a new record today."

"Ten hours." Kellre nodded, continuing his thought, "Is, as I believe, but a first step towards the true form; you yourself admit there must be another level. You see, the Golden Oozaru was uncontained, wild, and self-destructive; it destroyed itself with it's own power, but not before taking a large chunk out of the planet. However, if that is indeed the pinnacle of Saiyan strength, there must be a way of harnessing it, so there must be a form beyond that, one where that power is focused into something more than primitive might."

Kaen's eyes unfocused for a moment as he mused to himself, "Just imagine what you could do with power like that; what power like that would feel like..."

A flick to his forehead snapped him out of it, as did Kellre's returned lecturing tone, "Remember, however, the Golden Oozaru destroyed itself, because it did not have control. When you let your power consume you, then you lose yourself."

"I got it. Always need to maintain control." His face twisting up sourly, he muttered, "Now I understand why I was targeted..."

Kellre burst out laughing, and couldn't seem to stop himself. Eventually, he managed to compose himself, saying, "Do not think so highly of yourself. From what I can ascertain from the data of when you and my daughter 'ascended', and from my own experience, all it requires is a focus. A powerful focus of unadulterated and pure determination, to become a Super Saiyan."

"Hey, I spent a quarter of my life with some bastard hunting me, I think I have a right to believe myself targeted." Despite the circumstances, he didn't sound, or feel, indignant; just annoyed.

"Oh, that's certainly very true Kaen, that the Cold Empire would, and does, want any and every potential threat removed, and thus a target you were; however, don't place any misconceptions on what is best described as a legend."

Realisation hit him suddenly. "Wait, you think that I thought I was some kind of legend?" He started laughing himself, saying, "Give me some credit. I merely mentioned I was targeted because I had the potential to become what I am now; I'm not claiming I'm some kind of legend made flesh. That would be too egotistical, and idiotic, even for me." He would admit, albeit behind closed doors, that sometimes he didn't always do the smartest of things, and that he had a bit of an ego problem, but he was working on both of those. Grinning lopsidedly in amusement, he added, "Now, a Vegeta, on the other hand..."

Kellre just smirked back, making one final comment, "In any case, remember what I taught you: finesse, and control. Always control. Otherwise, my daughter may end up using you as a foot stool." With that, he nodded once in farewell, and was on his way.

Shaking his head, Kaen commented, just before the older man was out of earshot, "Like your mate does you?" Dropping the towel he held onto the ground, knowing that either the robots, or his obsessive-compulsive mother, would find it, he set off in search of his mate, finding her back in their room, trying on the various outfits she'd recovered from Kat. Leaning against the doorframe, Kaen wolf whistled, commenting, "Those clothes look good on you." Walking into the room, he noticed her looking at him with a raised eyebrow, like she expected him to add something; he didn't disappoint. "'Course, they'd look better off you, but that'd just my opinion."

She giggled a little before punching his chest quite solidly, but he just grabbed her and held her against him, running a hand through her hair, and silently revelling in her company; he didn't know what he'd done to deserve her, but he intended to keep doing it. Giggling again, she hit him once more, this time a little harder, as she chided, "Now, now, I've got to help get lunch ready; or is it dinner now? Whatever. Besides, you'll have more energy on a full stomach."

Releasing her again, he replied, "Well, I don't 'spose I have much choice in the matter. You always manage to find some way to get whatever you want from me."

She just giggled once more, commenting, "Yeah, it's the best trick I ever taught you." Despite himself, he couldn't help but laugh at that comment, and, with a quick kiss, she shot from the room, and life carried on as normal for the extremely abnormal group.

End Chapter 26

To be continued...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Notes:

This chapter is a bit of a homage to the movie Legend of Zorro, showing that sometimes, the most important lesson, is the one you'd least expect.