Howdy, folks. Happy Friday. Here's the next chapter!


What sounded like a full-scale battle shocked Dyspo straight from sleep and into a state of controlled panic. He threw off his pajamas, grabbed his uniform, gloves, and boots and was in fighting form in a matter of seconds. He bolted from the room and straight for the source of the conflict.

Dyspo arrived on the scene just in time to see K'nsi use his explosive threads as a slingshot to launch Cocotte, safely ensconced in her barrier, at Hit. He easily side-stepped the purple ball, which rocketed past him.

"Is this training or is there a problem?" Dyspo asked.

"This is light exercise before breakfast," Hit replied.

"We're trying new combo attacks," K'nsi added. "You were sleeping but Hit volunteered to test our ideas."

Cocotte, her momentum finally spent, was able to safely drop the barrier and return. In her absence, she noticed Dyspo had appeared.

"Did we wake you? Sorry!" Cocotte said.

Dyspo waved her off. "I was ready to get up anyway. Here's an idea. After breakfast, let's play a little three on one. I want to see these new attacks in action."

"The three of us versus you?" K'nsi asked. He pointed to himself, Cocotte, and Hit. "Since we've been practicing together?"

"I was thinking Universe 6 against Universe 11, but sure. Let's see what you've got."

One quick breakfast later, Dyspo found out exactly what the opposition had: a little bit more than he could handle.

After an initial blitz attack that left Cocotte too dizzy to continue, Dyspo turned his sights on the remaining Pride Trooper. K'nsi and Hit closed ranks, positioning themselves back to back, creating a full circle of protection.

K'nsi added a minefield of golden threads to the battlegrounds. No problem. Dyspo knew he could run straight through the traps, trigger them, and be well out of range before they exploded.

Only they didn't explode. They clung and wrapped around him like barbed wire, tangling his legs and feet. The fastest man in the universe found himself cocooned, barely able to stand, and completely helpless.

"Shit," Dyspo muttered. He tried unraveling the threads with his hands but they were in such a snarl he couldn't find a place to start. Pulling anywhere just seemed to tighten the filaments somewhere else. For a second he considered seeing if he could gnaw through them with his prodigious front teeth, though he never had a chance to test that idea.

Hit appeared in front of Dyspo, who'd heard the time skip trigger but couldn't do anything about it. The assassin calmly slid a hand from his pocket, made a fist, and delivered a little love tap to the Pride Trooper's sternum.

"You're dead," Hit said.

Dyspo fell over as dramatically as a mortally wounded soap opera character. "Fine, you win. K'nsi, you want to get these off me?"

The stout Pride Trooper dispelled his threads, releasing his teammate turned opponent.

"I haven't seen that version before," Dyspo said, standing up.

"That's because they're new. They're like a trap within a trap. Hit suggested another version that wraps you up and then explodes when you try to remove them, but I thought I'd save that one for later," K'nsi said.

"Yeah, thanks for not exploding me. I really appreciate that."

Cocotte staggered onto the scene, moving like she was in the midst of a week-long bender. "That was so mean!"

Dyspo shrugged. "It's not my fault your Cocotte Zone looks like a giant kickball. Or that it spins so well."

The female Pride Trooper dropped to the ground and grabbed her head. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Nobody wanted to see that. Dyspo was about to run and fetch a bucket when Hit approached the stricken Pride Trooper.

"Give me your arm."

Cocotte lifted her head and stared at Hit. She looked ready to summon her barrier, even at the risk of being trapped inside it with her own spew for company.

"I'm not going to hurt you. If I wanted to, I would have done it by now."

"Maybe not the best thing to say," Dyspo mumbled.

The assassin's words might have been brusque but they were also sensible. Cocotte groaned and offered Hit her left arm. He crouched down so she wouldn't have to stretch so far and carefully supported the proffered arm.

Hit gently turned the limb so it was palm up. "I'm not familiar with your species so there are no guarantees this will work."

Without further elaboration Hit pressed two fingers against a spot a few inches down Cocotte's wrist. He kept the pressure steady for a minute and then began to massage the area.

Logically, it was no more erotic than a doctor checking a pulse. Though Dyspo told himself that, as he watched Hit work on Cocotte, he found his ears aching for the assassin's skilled touch.

Dyspo was self-aware enough to realize that if he kept staring, it wouldn't be just his ears that got involved. He averted his eyes and tried to think of the least-sexy things imaginable: interplanetary war, cities in flames, universes erased at the whim of two amoral, all-powerful children, sad puppies, sad puppies orphaned by interplanetary war being erased… That seemed to do the trick.

Hit released Cocotte's arm. The Pride Trooper hesitated for a moment and then stood up. There was no wobble in her movement or sign she was going to toss her breakfast. Whether it was due to the acupressure or simply Hit keeping her distracted until her body could regain its equilibrium, it had worked.

"Thanks," Cocotte said, examining her wrist. "I'm going to remember that."

Hit nodded in acknowledgment. "If you're feeling better, let's prepare for the second round."

"Actually, let's shake it up a little," Dyspo proposed. "I wanna see how Dr. Hit does against the Pride Troopers."

The assassin scoffed at the nickname. "Fine with me."

"Just give us a minute to strategize," the rabbit added.

"I'll be generous and give you five."

Dyspo gathered his teammates in a huddle. Hit glanced at them momentarily then walked off, out of earshot. The assassin closed his eyes and focused on his own strategy. He mentally laid out his opponents' typical attack patterns, defenses, and how they played together. Then he formulated counters for what he considered the most likely scenarios, given what he'd seen both in the Tournament of Power and in his matches over the past day.

"Hey, you fall asleep?" Dyspo called after five minutes.

Hit opened his eyes. "No."

"Just checking. I know old people need their naps."

"Keep it up and I'll retire you. Permanently."

Cocotte and K'nsi exchanged very nervous glances. Dyspo laughed it off. "Threatening each other is just our thing. I've probably said I was gonna kick his ass half a dozen times since he got here. We're cool, right?"

Hit gave a non-committal grunt that didn't make Cocotte and K'nsi feel any safer.

"Even if he wanted to try something—which he doesn't—we can take him. K'nsi and I had him dead to rights in the Tournament. Throw in the Cocotte Zone and subtract a meddling Saiyan, he's cooked," Dyspo said.

Hit raised his fists. "We'll see."

Dyspo turned to his fellow Pride Troopers. "Ready? Let's show him why we're the best in any universe!"

As expected, Dyspo lead the charge. A charge that ended with him again running harmlessly through unoccupied space that had, just a nanosecond ago, contained one crafty assassin. This time, however, the Pride Trooper wasn't thrown off by the disappearing act.

"He's hiding in his stupid pocket dimension. Be alert. He's probably going to pop up behind one of us," Dyspo said.

K'nsi suddenly shouted and cast his threads like a net. They passed through what they should have ensnared. The target he'd been aiming for then vanished entirely.

"I know this trick; he almost got me with it in the Tournament. I guess he's kinda here, kinda still in his own dimension," Dyspo explained. "Any attacks are gonna go right through him."

"But he can still attack us," K'nsi pointed out.

"Yep, he sure can. So here's what we're gonna do: we're gonna add one more dimension. Got me?"

Cocotte nodded. Her comrades crowded around her and she enveloped the three of them in a protective barrier.

"I feel like a fish in a bowl," K'nsi muttered. He splayed a hand against the wall of the bubble.

"Would you rather be out there?" Cocotte snapped.

A heavy thud caused the barrier to rock slightly. K'nsi whipped his hand off the 'fishbowl' as though his touch had been the cause of the ruckus. "I'd rather take my granny underwear shopping than be here at all!"

An invisible deluge of blows struck the barrier from all sides and angles, including underneath. The three hapless Pride Troopers tried to keep their balance—and their fortitude—as Hit rained hell upon them from the comfort of his private dimension.

"He's looking for a weak spot," Dyspo said.

"He won't find one," Cocotte replied confidently.

"You're right, I didn't."

The voice came from behind the bubble. The three Pride Troopers tried to turn around while avoiding tripping over each other in the close confines. After a bit of negotiating and Dyspo getting his foot stepped on, they were all able to face Hit.

"Are you actually here or is this another one of your illusions, or holograms, or whatever you want to call it?" Dyspo asked.

Hit tapped a finger against the barrier, proving he was solid and present. "It's an impressive defense. I don't think I can puncture it indirectly."

The assassin circled the barrier slowly and meticulously. The three inside followed his movements, tense and ready for an attack.

"Like fish in a barrel," Hit mused after he completed a full lap.

"That is so much worse than fish in a bowl," K'nsi said.

Hit stopped walking and faced the Pride Troopers. "Come out of there or I'll drag you out."

"Can you give us a minute to discuss it?" Dyspo asked.

"No."

"Thirty seconds?"

Hit held up four fingers and a thumb.

"Asshole," Dyspo muttered.

The thumb dropped.

"Son of a bitch."

Down went the index finger.

"You know what, we're pretty happy in here. You want us out, evict us."

Hit lowered his hand. "Alright."

The assassin drew back his foot. Cocotte waved her arms, dispelling the barrier. When K'nsi and Dyspo glared at her, she glared right back.

"Once through the spin cycle is enough for me. If you two want to try it, I'll create another Cocotte Zone just for you."

"I'm not calling this a defeat," Dyspo protested. "I still had a plan if somebody wasn't afraid of a little motion sickness."

"Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth," Hit replied.

"Whatever. Round three?" Dyspo asked.

K'nsi and Cocotte stepped away from their comrade, making it clear to Hit they wanted nothing to do with the proposed next round.

"We should get back to working with Spot," K'nsi said, gesturing toward the lake. "We've still got a few hiccups to iron out."

Such as the lake monster treating the blue Pride Trooper like a stone to be skipped across the lake, and exhibiting a compulsion to chase fish and birds instead of performing aquatic stunts. Not to mention his tendency to dive to the deepest parts of the lake and nearly drown anyone who was stupid enough to hitch a ride on his back.

"Yeah, I guess you should get on that," Dyspo relented. "I want this show of yours to blow Top's mind."

"Are you and Hit going to keep at it?" K'nsi asked.

The rabbit shrugged. "We'll find something to do to keep ourselves occupied."


"This isn't what I had in mind." Dyspo made no attempt to hide his boredom, displeasure, or sexual frustration.

"You're occupied," Hit replied.

"No, I'm sitting here in pain while you measure detergent. This is worse than watching paint dry. At least paint doesn't give me false hope."

"What did you expect when I asked if you had laundry facilities?"

"That you were just curious? That it was a euphemism?"

"Is 'doing laundry' what the kids call it nowadays?" Hit examined the settings on the washing machine. His clothing was durable and hadn't seen soap in a month. With that in mind, the assassin chose the longest, hottest cycle the machine offered.

"What about the coat?" Dyspo asked.

"This machine couldn't handle the coat," Hit said.

"What about the clothes under the coat?"

"Do you usually do laundry naked?"

"I usually just pay K'nsi to do my laundry. He works cheap."

"Or maybe he likes doing favors for his friends," Hit suggested.

Dyspo paused and thought about it. "Yeah, maybe he does. I should pay him more."

The assassin shook his head. His original diagnosis, that the Pride Troopers were all obtuse, was proven correct yet again. Still, there was something endearing about their relationship. It was like a family. A family of idiots that spent as much time flexing and posing as they did actually accomplishing anything, but a family nevertheless.

"We've got 30 minutes," Hit said, indicating a timer on the face of the washing machine.

The rabbit perked up instantly. "I can do a lot in 30 minutes."


Author's Notes:

Thanks for the inspiration for (part of) the chapter title, Admiral Ackbar.

The pressure point on the arm to treat nausea is a real thing. You can look up videos for how to do it yourself.

Hit's quote about everyone having a plan is actually stolen from boxer and infamous ear-biter Mike Tyson.

Thanks for reading. Oh, and the next chapter will be NSFW.