The Powers of Plant

"Oh, is that all? I suppose I'll try harder to impress, then!"

Slip. Weave. Duck. Over and over in rapid fashion. Part of him wanted to go all out, but he knew such a thing was foolish. His battle lust couldn't get the better of him, not even here in a controlled environment. He'd spent months muting the emotional effects of the Super Saiyan; to succumb to it now would be to waste his efforts completely.

"Try all you like. I'll crush anything you send my way!"

Almost as if on cue, Cheri slipped away as the missile approached. Sneering, Vocado spun on a heel, leaping into the air as he let his grip on his stored energy loosen. A mid-air flipping kick impacted the tip of the missile, sending it off course and sailing straight past the Saiyan. Waving his arm beneath him, he summoned a disc of energy, akin to that shield technique he seemed so fond of using, and rode the ensuing explosion from the rocket straight toward Cheri!

The shockwave was mighty, enough to give him momentum toward his foe equal to his own speed, if not better. Leaping from the shield, he lashed out with a flying elbow, which he followed up with a barrage of spinning punches, fast knees, and flipping kicks. He was pulling out all the stops for this rapid-fire assault, and he hoped to bring out the same in Cheri.

---

Adrenaline and tempo are curious things. Being in a rhythm with a foe so long, you start to get a feel for their patterns and tells. Cheri had fallen into a very predictable rhythm, which, as it turns out, seemed to be a solid part of her strategy. Try as he might to force her out of that in exchanges before now, she’d done rather well at sticking to it.

It seemed, however, that she’d finally altered the tempo.

Vocado had exptected to hit something with his elbow— a shield, a face, or even another rocket— but to strike nothing at all was entirely unexpected this far into their bout. The Super Saiyan had put most of his weight into that strike, and so tumbled forward far past where he intended to be. When the missiles came from behind, he had mere moments to bring up his arms. It wasn’t enough to stop the missiles!

Not nearly enough to stop even one.

The barrage landed clean, sending him flying back. Spinning like an arrow without fletching, the Warmaster did his best to right himself, but only managed to flip in midair after a few continuous seconds of uninterrupted flight. Shoving his hand down, he caught the slick surface of the floor and punched a hole in it, finally shattering the mathematically perfect curvature of the torus somewhere near the start of the upwards slope on the north side. It would probably take some Tuffle scientist a few days to recreate the exact set of infinitesimally small tiles he’d just burrowed into.

His momentum stopped short thanks to his sudden punch. And, acting quickly, he leveled his blaster and fired with reckless abandon, hoping to catch Cheri in the center of her chest with a stray energy bullet. The cartridge ejected itself from his cannon as the firing mechanism smoked and hissed. Without much fanfare, it retracted back into his arm guard.

”I was wondering when I might catch a glimpse of that. Seems you caught me when I least expected it.”

Standing to full height, the Saiyan brushed off the dust and stray shrapnel as he paced toward her. Cuts traced along his frame, some still bleeding, while a few bruises had bubbled up under his armor. The shoulder pads, what little remained of them, formed jagged cracks, and a splintering shape echoed out from the center of his chest piece. All of these the signs of a great battle.

And yet still, his breathing only just began to truly labor.

”I wonder what our ancestors might think. A Super Saiyan and an Ultra Tuffle, sparring. Gaining strength together. Surely one of them would think it to be the start of some awful joke.”

He’d walk slowly, circling Cheri until she made a move. So much so, he’d even be willing to walk sideways up the wall if need be.

”Me? I take it as the start of something much more productive. Much more exciting! Wouldn’t you agree?”

---

”Perhaps.” His pace quickened. ”What better way to show our unyielding unity than by joining body and mind? Surely we would become the ultimate warrior!”

The chainguns fired, and Vocado took off like a rocket. He sprinted up the wall, evading the coming hailstorm of gunfire by inches. In turn, he too fired, loosing a stream of energy bolts. They trailed Cheri’s location, and hopefully, would overtake her sooner rather than later.

This duel of suppressive fire gave Vocado an excellent idea. Surely something like this could be extrapolated on for use against multiple combatants, if the right variation was spun on it. Food for thought, but at another time.

For now, their energy storms clashed. Pink on gold in a dazzling display. If she could come up with a counter strategy, then surely this would be the time to use it. Otherwise he would overtake her, and disappointingly, she would most certainly chastise him for failing to uphold his “third strike is fatal” claim from earlier.

”Soon, we shall test that, too. Though I suppose we’ll need a willing sparring partner. How about your beloved Nasu? Surely he could be a worthy foe against our combined might!”

---

Tense. Nervous. Odd. Vocado felt the sensations wash over him like someone had waved a magic wand over his heart. Of all the tricks Cheri had pulled out to this point, this was far and away the most debilitating. He felt his breath shudder in his lungs. Fear wasn't the right word. Trepidation, perhaps? Unease? The sensation was so wholly unlike him that the exact details were nearly impossible to describe.

"Damn...! What the hell is this?!"

Cheri offered herself up, seemingly defenseless, but the ever-cautious Vocado hesitated. Was it his nerves, or his usual tactics? Hard to say, but the outcome was the same regardless. He relented. For the first time since the battle began, he let an opportunity slip by. Dealing with an ability like this any day before now might've been impossible, but now? He just needed time. A few moments. He'd figure it out.

"Some tech you've got there."

For now, Vocado waited, skating along the torus in figure-eights that stretched the length of the entire arena. Potshots here and there came from his hands, but they were little more than ways to keep the momentum going. Extend the fight that little bit more. Certainly unlike his usual self, he relented the tempo fully to her.

---

”Tch...”

Vocado leered as he fired off his paltry shots, hesitating in a way unbecoming of him. Rather than continue the charade of combat, he flipped from his high altitude position, landing on the ground with a soft tap. His hair was pale-blond again, and a bead of sweat dripped from his forehead.

”This has been an excellent showing. I think your efforts were well worth it. The Ultra Tuffle is a worthy opponent to this legendary form… in theory.”

Cracking his neck, he dropped his guard a while as he explained.

”As much as it pains me to say it, our census data lists me as the Kingdom’s weakest Super Saiyan. Odds are good that someone like Zuqetta can turn this new toy into powder.”

Vocado’s energy fizzled away, burning on the wind as his pale hair turned brown-black once more. Bringing his hand up, he injected a syringe hidden within the plastoid wristguard. The proprietary blend of senzu extract and Namekian spring water worked wonders on his aching body. Wounds closed and temper cooled.

”Not to dissuade your progress, of course. You’re in the upper echelon, now. With the right upgrades, and a lot more practice, you’d probably be able to handle Lottus himself on your lonesome.”

An odd thing, for a Saiyan to call a sparring match this early, but he was pushing past that battle lust and thinking tactically. How much was there to truly gain from a fight to the finish?

”I have more in the tank, but I’d rather save some of my tricks for a real battle.”

He leveled his blaster at Cheri, and offered to shoot a syringe at her, too. The healing would take effect quickly if she accepted, and soothe whatever pain might’ve been ailing her.

”Unless you had something in particular you were dying to show off, I think we’re done here.”

---

"Oh, so you're a comedian now is that right? Perks of the Ultra Tuffle transformation, or have you been practicing in the mirror?"

Taking Cheri's advice, Vocado leveled a hand at the Tuffle as an orb formed in his hand. Energy and the now-flowing anxiousness in his chest coalescing in tandem. He forced it out in its fullness toward Cheri, hoping the miniature blast would help to subdue the painful effects of her magically-inclined attack. This would let her use whatever new technique she cooked up as well, if she was so inclined.

"I've got plenty of time if you want to talk logistics. Technically this was my day off; I was over on Earth watching the tournament. We'll just file today under 'Overtime'."

Waiting dutifully, the Saiyan flexed his fingers as the vestiges of Cheri's strike left him. A curious ability, and one he could surely try to repurpose with the right amount of training.

"You mentioned something earlier about clearing the Destron. How's that been going?"

The torus was impressive, but a tad confusing now that the fighting had ended. Cheri would have to take the lead to get them out of here. Was the elevator even visible from inside the arena? He couldn't quite see it from where they were...

---

Vocado balked mildly at the display of power. Cheri’s fullest expulsion was impressive, yet he could see just how much effort it took to bring it to bear. Plenty of moving parts to consider, and plenty more ways to have things go catastrophically wrong. If they could develop some sort of strategy to ensure this attack went off without a hitch…

”Arcose?”

His mood shifted slightly. Not soured in a way Cheri would pick up on immediately, but he very notably spoke in a different tone. The Chancellor would probably take it as Vocado shifting to “work mode”. As the missile circled faster and faster, the Warmaster crossed his arms.

”I’m afraid I’ve been left in the dark. I’ve been doing work on the frontier worlds. When Taori was still King, my ship went off-course and left me stranded on an alien planet. Devoid of civilization and teeming with hostile wildlife. Since then, I’ve taken to cultivating it as one of our very first vassal planets.” Vocado picked his cape up off the floor near the edge of the arena, and clipped it onto the back of his armor. ”Planet Tentive. Plenty of natural resources gone untapped. I’ve got a small squadron collecting data there— led by a handful of Tuffle volunteers, in fact. Odds are good that we’ll be able to install a colony there soon.”

Finally turning his gaze from the missile, he explained further:

”To make a long story short; I’ve been busy. Fill me in?”