Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Requiem in Blue ❯ Chapter Four: Kaiyat'ehn ( Chapter 4 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

The morning dawned hot and humid. Vejiita slid out of the guest bed and onto the floor, moaning in irritation. His entire body was covered in an uncomfortable sheen of thick sweat, and it made him feel disgusting…truly. Normally, he would not be so averted to the feel of flushed skin and damp cheeks. Perhaps it would be acceptable had he just been working himself in a training exercise, or fucking that gorgeous blue-haired Chikyuu-jin that Brolli flaunted about.  But after having been asleep, the Saiya-jin Zarshi found that waking to a mass of wet sheets was inexcusably unbearable.
Vejiita slowly ambled to his feet and found his way into the bath chamber that adjoined the guest room. And a fine setting it was, too. He had to hand it to the Mizuka-jin; they certainly knew how to treat royal guests. He wasn’t sure yet if it had been Shakan Brolli’s influence, or simply traditional Mizuka-jin practice to treat their guests with the utmost of respect.
There was a gentle haze surrounding the bathroom this morning, and Vejiita found it repulsive.  His home planet was certainly a humid and warm one, but this was utterly ridiculous. Slowly, he leaned over the sink and groaned. The large amount of alcohol he’d consumed during last evening’s festivities was coming back to haunt him now. He noted the large bath behind him and decided that he would like nothing better than to sit in it for an hour or so until his headache wore away.
As he prepared his bath, his thoughts drifted back to the Kassha’hal Brolli, the Chosen One.  He’d never met a Saiya-jin quite like him.  Perhaps living on a planet so foreign to Vejiita-sei had made him what he was.  Shakan Brolli still fit ninety percent of the stereotypes attributed to his race, but there was a distinct difference about him.  Perhaps it was his mere power level that set him apart from most other Saiya-jin. Vejiita was more than curious to see just how far his great power could stretch.
Gods, it made his blood singe with heat each time he thought of the match he would soon fight with the Legendary Super Saiya-jin. It would truly be a sight to see, that was definite—and he wondered if all the stories he had ever heard about the Super Saiya-jin had been true. The golden aura, the change of hair color, even eye color; were they all just myth or were they true? Some even claimed that the very mass of the Kassha’hal’s body grew as though it had to accommodate for the sheer intensity of his power.
Vejiita slid into the tub and nearly growled aloud with the pleasurable sensation of feeling roasted alive. He stretched his limbs rested his head on the back of the tub, feeling his body go slack with momentary relaxation. Closing his eyes, he recalled the dream he’d had during the few short hours he’d actually slept. Vejiita smirked…he’d known as soon as he’d laid eyes on that blue-haired Chikyuu-jin woman that he’d be plagued by dreams of her.
He wondered how long she’d been Brolli’s lover.  Judging by the way she smelled when she was around him, he guessed it had probably been quite a while. They had made no outward declarations, but it was glaringly obvious by their interaction.  Vejiita was curious, quite beyond reason, as to whether or not Brolli had actually claimed the Chikyuu-jin as his mate.
The woman was quite an obstacle. And she was one he had made a promise to conquer before he left Mizukashi. It would give him something to do while he was here, anyhow.
Vejiita felt himself go hot all over not only from the steamy water of his bath, but also from the very memory of his dreams of the blue-eyed goddess. Was her skin as divinely soft as it had been in his dream? The thought of her delicate fingers tracing patterns on his body made him shudder with sudden arousal. The muscles of around his hips contracted slowly as he imagined those long legs wrapped around his waist while she rocked against him in the throes of passionate lovemaking…
The Prince cringed as the communicator near the bathroom door buzzed loudly. He groaned softly.
“Mmm, down boy…”  He muttered to his throbbing erection, and reached for the bar of soap near his head. In one angry heave, he aimed directly for the glowing green button at the bottom of the comPanel.  The soap fell to the ground heavily, and Vejiita leaned back against the tub. “What is it?” He growled, hoping whoever had disturbed him would now need a change of pants.
“Zarshi-kalan…?” The voice of one of his imperial guards sang irritably through the unit, “Vejiita Zarshon wishes to see you in his chambers.”
“Tell him I’ll be there as soon as I feel up to it…” He hoped his words sounded murderous enough. The guard was persistent.
“T-ten’gal, you’ll excuse me Zarshi-kalan. The King wishes that you come to his quarters immediately. He says it is a matter of great importance.”
Vejiita groaned irritably and rested his head upon the smooth porcelain surface of the bath. Closing his eyes, he conceded.
“Yes, yes alright.  Tell him I’ll be there as soon as I’m through with my bath.”
“Iyen, yes Zarshi-kalan.  Suukah.” The conPanel blipped off.
Vejiita rolled his eyes around in his head and then finally opened them again. The ceiling of the bath chamber suddenly seemed very bleak, despite the heavily decorated walls of the room itself. He sighed deeply and lifted one of the sponges from the side of the tub. If he was to appease his father, he supposed he ought to finish bathing.
With great reluctance and more haste than he was normally used to, Vejiita bathed and returned to his guest chamber. After dressing himself in a black, loose fitting, long sleeved tunic and a training suit, he slid his boots on his feet and made his way down the hall towards his father’s guest room.
The cooler morning breeze slid in through the open hallways of the palace, and Vejiita reveled in the relief it had given them from the heat that had permeated the building last night. Unfortunately, he’d been informed that the cool breeze of morning would not last past lunchtime. This thought brought a grimace to his face, and he walked a little more quickly towards the intersection, preparing to make a left hand turn.
He let his eyes graze the floor as he took the turn, and realized too late that he was about to collide head-on with a female.  Just as he looked up, his chest collided with hers, and a pair of blue eyes shocked him out of his early morning mood. The scent of flowers, fruit, fresh water and the pure odor of a female accosted his senses, sending him into a shocked state of mind—even as she stared back at him with as much amazement.
Much to his embarrassment, his surge of blood and excessive heart rate caused a little spark of his ki to ignite in his clenched fist. The new electricity in the air did nothing to soothe his pumping veins, and he watched as her mouth twisted into a knowing and satisfied smile. She pressed her palms together and bowed gently.
“Ten’gal ryahn, excuse me Zarshi-kalan. I was not watching where I was going.” When she brought her head back up, he couldn’t help but let his own lips curl into a smirk, and he narrowed his burning gaze.
“Of course, Lady Bulma.”  His voice faded out as quickly as it had began, and he allowed his eyes to travel from the shining locks of her hair, down to her feet and then up again very slowly.  His scrutiny was not lost on her, and one of her matching blue eyebrows rose indignantly.  His blood surged as she folded her hands together.
“I trust you had an enjoyable night, Prince Vejiita?”
The words she spoke danced upon the strings of his pseudo-arousal and played havoc on each pore of his body. Vejiita crossed his arms as tightly as possible across his broad chest, then ‘hmphed’ lightly.
“I did…” He briefly recalled his dream of the woman standing before him. “Very enjoyable.”
The hint on the edges of his tone affected her more than he was sure she had expected.
“I assume yours was equally pleasing, Shal’ba Bulma?”
Bulma’s sparkling eyes engaged in a harrowing dance of mockery, and suddenly he felt enraged.  Her demeanor left him a shaking mess, and it angered him. The evil amusement in her smile cut through his proud exterior. Who in all the gods’ names did she think she was, at any rate? Her mouth opened slowly.
“My evening was splendid, Zarshi-kalan.  Undeniably pleasurable.” Her voice faded out as she said it, and he noted the same hint of teasing sadism in her voice that had been in his. Vejiita ground his teeth together and tightened his fists underneath his arms. He admitted, under duress of his reasoning, that she was insinuating more than he wanted her to. Much as he knew a relationship existed between her and the Shakan Brolli, he also knew he wanted her, and that he would do anything he could to have her…even if it was just once. His inner irritation gave way on the outside, and he decided to play his cards as she had just played hers.
“Of course, Lady. If you’ll excuse me…”  He made his way to brush past her. On his way to her right side, she smiled, and he stopped.
“If you are searching for the Shakan, Sire, he has told me he awaits you in the stage arena whenever you are ready.”
Vejiita squinted and uncrossed his arms.
“Tagaht.  Thank you, Lady Bulma.  But I’m actually on my way to see my father. If you see the Shakan Brolli, tell him I’ll join him as soon as I’m able.”
Her eyes blinked and she nodded her head slowly.
“Of course, Zarshi-kalan…”  And her deeply sensual voice faded into the hallway as she brushed by him. Her strong scent of arousal hung heavy in the air after she had turned the corner, and Vejiita smirked. Tilting his head up higher, turned from her retreating backside and headed toward his father’s chamber.
That female was dangerous, he concluded.  And she needed to be disarmed.

The Governor’s Palace of the Shakan Brolli housed within it a two-hundred-foot high training facility.  Its perimeter spanned over two thousand feet and was lined with ki absorbing walls. In fact the only material in the facility that did not absorb ki was the floor, and this was only because of timing.
When Bulma had arrived on Mizukashi the room could not have even been called a “facility” by any stretch of the imagination. Despite the fact that Shakan Brolli was wealthy and fairly knowledgeable in the areas of engineering and construction, he had not the time to be making blueprints for his own training grounds, let alone engage in building it. His first duty for her as free-science technician on Mizukashi had been to construct a training facility enviable of the Royal Palace itself.
And truly, it had become such. Bulma was aware that the training grounds in the Royal Palace on Vejiita-sei were only one hundred feet high, and spanned only about a thousand feet in diameter.  It had also been her mind that had created a formula for, and eventually manufactured, the ki absorbing material that covered the walls. Brolli had insisted on keeping the floor ki resistant so that some amount of skill would still be required for dodging deflected blasts.
When Bulma reached the huge double doors that lead into the massive room, two guards threw all their weight into opening them and saluted her as she entered. Brolli had already been in the room for nearly three hours meditating, and after hearing of the challenge that was to take place today between him and the Saiya-jin Prince, Bulma had been ecstatic to see the two fine specimens duke it out for a little while. Perhaps she could help the prince nurse his wounds while she prodded tech information from him…
Bulma raised an eyebrow when Brolli’s left eye opened. He watched her carefully as she crossed the distance between them, but he remained seated on the floor, legs folded and arms crossed over his broad chest. Her memories of their escapades last evening suddenly sparked the twitch of a smile on her mouth, and she flashed it at him with undying brilliancy and scathing sensuality.
Brolli returned the favor with a mere ‘hmph’ of amusement and shut his eye, looking as though he had returned to a state of meditation. Bulma strode over to take a place beside the first row of spectator seats and leaned against them.  Her silent vigil was interrupted by Brolli’s smooth, crooning voice.
“I’m assuming, Lady Bulma, that you are aware of the Aash’an Raditsu’s arrival on Mizukashi earlier this morning?”
His body did not move from its trained state, but his words sent a slight shock through the air. Bulma raised an eyebrow, suddenly very curious. She leaned back further against the cool metal of the bar and smiled gently. So, her former lover and master had decided to show up after all.  How delightfully intriguing.  She laughed a little, a gentle moaning sound deep within the back of her throat.
“Mmm…the Aash’an. I haven’t seen him for quite some time. I hadn’t expected him to set foot on this planet ever again. But, in response to your question, Shakan; no, I was not aware of his arrival. You remember, I was not awake when you left your chambers this morning. I’ve only just begun my day.”
Brolli’s body remained as it was, but he took a deep breath and raised his head slightly. Bulma let her eyes travel over the slightly bronzed, smooth but chiseled surface of his bare back before he spoke again.
“I suppose you’re overcome with joy, Bulma. Seeing him could add several layers of fat to your ego, could it not?” The biting tone in his voice made her slightly confused, and she furrowed her brows. Bulma thought for a moment before replying.
“Perhaps, Brolli.  But then again, perhaps not. I have no desire to fraternize with the Aash’an Raditsu, which I suppose makes you pleased. Isn’t that so?”
To her great surprise, a soft chuckle emanated from the space of air around him, and his shoulders shook slowly with his gentle laughter. Brolli uncrossed his arms and stood, his back still facing her. In one second, he dematerialized and reappeared again in front of her lounging body. His face inches from hers, Brolli breathed deeply of her scent and then hooded his eyes. Bulma felt her heart empty several gallons of blood into her throat, but she kept her cool…  What is monkey boy plotting now? Brolli leaned close to her ear and flicked his tongue across the lobe.
“In all honesty, Bulma, I could care less if you fraternize with him.”
“Bullshit!” She cut in abruptly, forgetting herself in a moment of reckless anger. His laughing, half-lidded eyes dug into her, but she kept her breathing steady. What in all the gods names does he think he’s doing? I’M in control…I make the rules…
Brolli chuckled again and ran the tip of his finger down the neckline of her dress and across the full surface of her breasts.
“Now, now.  Don’t get upset. Besides…why should you care how I feel about it?”
Bulma refrained from letting words of cruel sarcasm filter from her mouth, and instead leaned closer to him.
“I suppose I rather enjoy watching your jealousy fire up like rocket fuel—do forgive me, Shakan.”
Brolli’s eyebrows shifted from amusement to slight confusion, he brushed his lips to hers, and then stepped away.
“’Rocket fuel’?”  The words lilted off of his tongue as if he expected there to be some sort of connotation to her words. Bulma lifted an eyebrow and folded her hands behind her back.
“A rocket. Chikyuu-jin starships you could say. Quite primitive to the ones I’ve seen in the possession of the Saiya-jin warriors, as you already know.  Its fuel bursts when ignited. It’s rather like your libido as well, My Lord.”
Brolli clenched his teeth together, this time immediately catching her innuendo and trying not to let his nostrils flare so obviously. He nodded once, arched his brow.
“Bravo…” he murmured, stepping back further and towards the center of the sparring area.  Bulma felt her face relax into a state of inner triumph.
“I ran into Vejiita-Zarshi on my way here, Shakan. He was on his way to see his father but asked me to inform you that he’ll be along shortly.” Her voice seemed clearer now that it seemed he had backed down. Submission made her uneasy…she needed control…constantly.  Although she was not so adept at such things, Bulma swore she could feel Brolli’s ki spark uneasily at her words.
“So you spoke with him, then?”  He asked, and turned away from her so he could flare his energy a bit.
Bulma nodded and leaned against the cool metal bar of the side arena once more. Her nearly sheer gown glistened in the blue hue of the room, and Brolli waited for her answer.  Bulma paused and pursed her full lips.
“I did…” her smooth voice no doubt echoed off the walls of his self-control.  “How do you expect to fare against him, My Lord?”
Her question aroused a glint of anger in him this time, but he sneered and hid it well when he turned to face her again.
“I’m not sure, Shal’ba. I haven’t used a scouter in some time, and I haven’t been able to read his exact power level. But just by blind analysis I’d say he has a forty percent chance of besting me in combat.  High for one who has not reached ascension.”
Bulma tilted her head to the side in curiosity.
“You are quite confident, Shakan,” she smiled rather seductively. “Admirable…”
Brolli studied her with his black eyes and smiled.  It was a smile she knew very well, and that he was keeping himself from closing the distance between them and lifting her legs in the air right in the arena.  He tightened the plated gold around his wrists and chuckled at her.
“I have reason to be.”

The Aash’an Raditsu, so given his title by way of captain’s status, was a disagreeable man even by Saiya-jin standards. But Vejiita gave him credit where it was due; he certainly was a most respectable and reliable Elite Warrior. For the past three days, Aash’an Raditsu had given up part of his vacation on Mizukashi to attend the negotiations that were taking place on the Aisu-jin planet Yuki-sei. The Aisu-jin Emperor Furiza had made some interesting proposals to Vejiita’s father the last time they met and, fearing that all of Furiza’s words could be nothing more than wildly elaborate fabrications, the Royal Council had voted to send a diplomatic envoy to meet with Furiza instead of sending the King himself.
Captain Raditsu had been one of the first to volunteer. The man held his King in such high regard that Vejiita wasn’t sure if the man thought someday he would give up his own throne to him. But Vejiita gave him the benefit of the doubt, assuming that no Elite Warrior would risk his own life just to attain a throne he could not keep.
“Suukah, Vejiita-Zarshi. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
Vejiita nodded as Raditsu made a signal of veneration. The man was close to him, as close as Vejiita would allow at any rate. His father had taught him at a very young age that Royalty could not and should not trust anyone, for the sake of his own hide, if not for the sake of the Empire. Vejiita slapped his comrade on the shoulder and motioned to the hallway where his father had begun his trek towards the training facility.
“Likewise, Aash’an.”  He let the words flow from his mouth as easily as he possibly could. Gratitude, or any emotion, did not sit well with the Saiya-jin Prince—and he intended to keep it that way. Things like that got in the way. His mind tuned into more important matters. “I know you must already have discussed matters with my father. But tell me:  how did your negotiations fare with those miserable Aisu-jin?”
The Aash’an chuckled softly through his nose and took his steps slowly and heavily, as though his mood were reflected in his stance.
“It seems the Aisu-jin are fully prepared to take over your Empire, Sire.  I’m sure of it.  You know our hold over them has left a bad taste in Furiza’s mouth for twenty odd years.  He’s tired of his sovereign status.  Furiza bargained with me for some amount of time but…” Raditsu paused and let his eyes scan the hallway intently. Vejiita sensed his unrest and tightened his arms over his chest.
“But?”
“But I still cannot be entirely sure about his motives, Sire,” Raditsu’s voice had faded to a dull whisper, and Vejiita strained to hear him continue.  “He is overly generous in his offerings, asking if we would accept more tungsten shipments for the same price.  He claims they are in surplus, but I believe it might be a way for him to ship weapons materials to our sovereign worlds.”
Vejiita’s tail ruffled, and he laughed once, aloud.
“I know the Aisu-jin’s love for tech.  They have become perverted by it.  But you think they would operate weapons facilities off-world, under our very noses?”
Raditsu nodded, glancing around furtively.  The taller Saiya-jin was careful, as always.
“Informants tell me word has it on Yuki-sei that a small Mizuka-jin resistance faction has made a secret alliance with Emperor Furiza. I—cannot be sure of the truth in these allegations. But, as my words to your father were, I would keep a close watch on these fish-nosed little insects if I were you, Zarshi-kalan. They’re technological base far exceeds ours.”
Vejiita let his body tense with apprehension as they passed by a small group of palace technicians. There was a moment of silence before Vejiita found the words to reply.
“So…it seems the Shakan Brolli may not be as omnipotent as he seems. Perhaps his ascension has clouded his reasoning?”
“If you’ll take my opinion, Zarshi-kalan--?”  Raditsu paused and waited for Vejiita’s nod of approval. The Prince obliged.
“I don’t believe that the Shakan Brolli would be able to have any knowledge of the resistance faction’s existence even if he was omnipotent. They supposedly operate off-world on Mizukashi’s third cycle moon, Ten’rili.  At least, this is what little knowledge I have obtained about them.”
Vejiita held back a wider smirk than the one he had on his mouth as Raditsu spoke, and they quickened their steps as they neared the training facility.
“You know the Shakan well?  You would trust him in this matter?”  Vejiita raised one eyebrow and finally made eye contact with the Captain. Raditsu smiled amusedly and let his eyes drag over towards the great, hulking entrance to the arena.
“Our families were close friends, Zarshi-kalan. I’ve known the Shakan Brolli since we were young boys. He’s younger than I.  I suppose you could say; he was like an extra brother to us. My blood brothers admire him greatly.”
Vejiita stopped outside the entrance and tightened the circle of his tail around his waist. The Aash’an paused with him.
“I suppose they do.  His ‘people’ here admire him.”
Vejiita stopped and watched as the Shakan stood, amidst the crowd of Mizuka-jin natives, shaking hands and making rounds—the Shal’ba Bulma close by his side.  “What do you know of his lover, Aash’an? The Chikyuu-jin native Shal’ba Bulma?”
Vejiita’s brow creased as Raditsu’s eyes went from a cool, confident shade to a painful, anger-ridden glare of contempt. Raditsu’s ki flared a little unexpectedly until he replied.
“What do I know of her, Zarshi-kalan?” It seemed as though he was repeating the question in order to think up a respectable answer. Vejiita nodded slowly.
“Yes, Aash’an…what do you know of her?”
Raditsu’s blue energy wave needed to be voluntarily dissipated, and the big warrior before him bowed his head in slight embarrassment.
“The Shal’ba Bulma is a collateral risk, Zarshi-kalan.  She is manipulative and cunning, vicious…  Do not let her smile fool you, Zarshi-kalan; her hatred for the Empire runs deep and wide.  Her status as an Imperial citizen is granted only because of her hold on the Shakan Brolli. Gods, that bitch deserves--!”  Raditsu paused and bowed his head, and Vejiita widened his eyes slightly, watching the Aash’an’s anger fade into awkwardness. The Prince ventured a guess to him.
“You know her personally then, Aash’an?”
Raditsu’s head rose again, and this time his eyes were filled with apologetic fury.  He nodded.
“My garrison was part of the fleet that purged Chikyuu eight years ago.  She was one of less than a dozen survivors I ordered into the slaver starships.  By the time we had routed and set fire to the compound she lived in, part of my research squad were caught in a… ‘tousle’ with some Chikyuu natives.  The slavers had already begun their ascent back to Chikyuu’s upper atmosphere, so I ordered her confined in the fleet ship.
“So you see, Zarshi-kalan, the Shal’ba Bulma was not always a free citizen. She was my house-slave for six years after that…and my lover. When I came to Mizukashi two years ago the Shakan took a ‘liking’ to her. I didn’t hesitate to leave her behind.”
“You were fortunate to have that female in your bed.”  Vejiita told him.  “You granted your friend the luxury of such a prize?” Vejiita interjected slowly, watching Raditsu’s expression falter about every three seconds. He’d been wounded by her in some way…and not physically. It made him all the more curious about the blue-haired woman. Raditsu snorted in mock laughter, the long, thick mane of his hair ruffled in the humid breeze.
“She would have had him anyway, if she’d have wanted him. Despite Bulma’s position as a slave, she never allowed herself to be controlled by anyone, not even me. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest when I’d heard that Brolli had freed her. In fact I’m sure it would only have been a matter of time before he bowed to her will completely.  I’m amazed he hasn’t claimed her as his mate yet.”
Vejiita fought back his smile and saw Raditsu scan the arena for signs of his former lover. He ventured his next comment with care.
“It’s a good thing he hasn’t…” he muttered, hoping that his scent hadn’t changed as he imagined how lovely it would be to bed the female. His hopes died as Raditsu’s guard came up.
“I would advise against it, Zarshi-kalan. The Shal’ba Bulma is beautiful, but her heart is made of stone. She has no respect for our power, for she utilizes it in her own way.”
This time Vejiita did laugh aloud. He turned to enter the arena.
“Fortunately for me, Aash’an, I also possess a heart of stone. Her tactics do not concern me—as long as she’s a good bed mate; nothing else really matters, does it?”
Vejiita heard the Captain laugh half-heartedly.
“I don’t doubt your words, Sire. I’ve never seen a warrior with quite so little compassion as you.” Raditsu stepped forward and into the archway with his Prince. Vejiita smirked widely.
“It’s as it should be. There is no room in a Prince’s heart for attachment.  I can’t afford it. I can see where such a woman would be capable of holding another man at bay. But I have no need for her heart.  Her body will be sufficient.”
He finished his commitment on a wave of cheers that erupted from the crowd as they entered the arena. The Shakan Brolli turned to see them approaching. As he came towards them, Vejiita twisted his gaze slightly to the left where Aash’an Raditsu stood.
“I have no scouter…give me his present read.”
Raditsu nodded and tapped the buttons on the side of his scouter a few times, then inhaled deeply.
“490,000, Sire…still rising. Have you ever seen him transform?” The question brought curiosity into Vejiita’s gaze. He shook his head. Raditsu chuckled. “Then I guarantee you’ll be impressed, Vejiita-Zarshi.”
Vejiita grinned as Brolli bowed and smiled almost anxiously. His tail unraveled from around his waist and ruffled in the air. The Saiya-jin crowd erupted into more cheers as Vejiita returned the gesture, and the two stepped into the middle of the arena.  Raditsu made his way over to where the King was seated and took a place beside him and the other Elite Guard.
The two Saiya-jin stood in the center of the arena, and Brolli clenched his fists.
“I am honored this day, Zarshi-kalan. You pay tribute to my name with your challenge.”
Vejiita uncrossed his arms and clenched his own fists, feeling the sudden urge to laugh.
“There’s no need to kiss my ass, Shakan.  You know perfectly well that your ki level exceeds mine. If you go easy on me today, I’ll rip your head off of your shoulders.”
Brolli’s eyebrows twitched with amusement, and he tilted his chin up.
“I have no doubt that you would, Sire. I promise you that I will fight to the best of my abilities.”
“Good…” Vejiita’s response tore into the heated air between the two, and he held up an arm. The crowds of Saiya-jin hushed instantly, and Vejiita lifted his head out of the glare he was giving the Shakan.
“Let us begin the challenge, Shakan Brolli.” The crowd cheered louder, and Brolli nodded once, bringing his arms up just so that they were straining against his own skin. Vejiita grinned evilly and silenced the crowd once more. “Transform, Shakan. All the people here wish to see your true power, and so do I.  I want to fight you at full strength!”
Brolli’s eyes dipped into confusion, and his arms seemed to relax a bit. The Shakan paused and squinted.
“Prince Vejiita, I—my read broke a scouter the last time I transformed in a spar. I would—with all due respect, Zarshi-kalan, I would prefer to remain powered down.”
Vejiita’s eyes darkened, and he gritted his teeth. What a cocky piece of shit.  So, he thinks he’s doing me a fucking favor!
“I’m not concerned with your preferences, Shakan!” Vejiita sneered through his lips, “Transform so that I may fight you at full power.”
Brolli seemed to stop and swallow with uncertain illusions. But he nodded warily and bowed.
“Iyen Dulok, of course, Zarshi-kalan.”
Vejiita watched with immeasurable anticipation as Brolli clenched his fists again and flexed his arms into a half folded position. The room around them became quiet with uncertainty, and Vejiita reveled in it.
There was a low sonic boom that echoed throughout the hall as Brolli began to power up, and the Prince felt himself quiver with expectancy. The Kassha’hal grimaced and folded his eyebrows downward. His ki was rising more quickly with each passing second, and it was now becoming palatable as the telltale blue waves began emitting from his body. They surrounded him in a halo of energy and framed his now shaking form with the hands of insistence.
The ki storm rose in its intensity, and several voices in the crowd turned to gasps of astonishment and admiration. Vejiita licked his lips and watched Brolli throw his head back. His arms pulsed suddenly and became larger by the second. His shoulders tensed and corded visibly under the strain of his own power. Finally, the Kassha’hal let out a deafening roar and spread his palms wide.
Vejiita jumped back to avoid the burst of yellow ki that exploded from Brolli’s body and engulfed his entire existence. The Shakan continued the deafening noise and began to float a few inches off of the ground. In a matter of seconds, Brolli’s feet touched the ground again, and the bright light faded, leaving only a golden aura encircling the Kassha’hal’s body as he stood before the Prince.
Utterly awestruck, Vejiita analyzed the form of the man before him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Beneath the golden aura, Brolli’s purplish black hair had become a shining shade of blond and was standing out in a glowing resonance of pure energy. The deep glare of his ebony eyes had flashed and now shone with the brilliancy of the turquoise sea on Vejiita-sei. His body mass was larger…engulfed in a flow of ki that seemed energetic to the senses.
Vejiita stood straight, against the silence of the crowd and the gentle noise of Brolli’s aura,
“Kaiyat’ehn,” he whispered, feeling his trademark smirk return. “Beautiful…”
The crowds whispered gently; ‘Suukah Kassha’hal…Suukah Kassha’hal’. And then the awe diminished as Vejiita’s own ki erupted around him, his cry of battle-ready fervor echoing in the great hall.
“So then, let us commence, Kassha’hal!!”