XII
1717.1810

He couldn't feel it anymore, no matter to what limits he pushed is mind Vegeta was unable to pick up the life force he'd felt earlier. It had simply vanished into the surrounding atmosphere of energies. He'd lost his concentration for just a brief moment when the woman had begun to rant again. At that exact moment he'd felt nothing more the malice and distaste for her sharp voice and berating tone. Now she'd cost him a possible edge. What had furnished his body with the idea of bonding with that pathetic creature. The words imitation saiyajin pooled into his head. It just seemed impossible to think, to even process simple movements of his body was out of his grasp.

The sluggishness would wear off with training he assured himself. Though there were things to be done first. Including getting his mind fouled mate out of that deathtrap. Sharply he barked out orders to his guards, search the planet for anything that appeared to be the exactly location of the tournament and to gather any information they could about any edges they could give him. Although his ego flared into pompousness, his inner voice warned him gruffly about the inconsistency of any normal ki patterns that all if not most living organisms gave out. In the underlying feel of the planet's energy there was something more conniving and sinister then anything more he'd felt on him home world or the galaxy traveled twice over.

* * * * *

"She has become a disease to him." Ikana snorted and stalked around the marble cave once more in frustration. "Her weepy inferior presence has forced him to compromise his lust for the hunt for her soft handed caresses and intoxicating moans." She paused in reflection, taking a moment to inhale the rising smoke off a pile of burning plants, "she must be eliminated." She stood over the smoking mound, watching the embers flare and die, things were not boding well. Stataris still had retained some amount of control after the transition to Ikana's rule. Perhaps she was becoming weak, they'd been playing this game for more millennia then she cared to count. Not to mention that in the final moments of whatever failed plan the winged abomination had been working on she had managed to separate her lover's essence from that of Ikana's own. Both had been left to brood and battle in Jespher's body. Though it had only been meant originally as a temporary solution, it had become something of a permanent one. None of that mattered right now, she took another breath of the dancing smoke. She needed to orchestrate a path with a spell for her lover's essence to travel. Though before that she needed to dispose of that disturbing bond between the saiyajin king and his pathetic queen.

She smiled, her teeth glinting against the red embers giving her pearl white smile a tinge of blood. "Call the tournament to begin, summon the elements and create the ring. I have a lusting for blood shed." She began to giggle, letting her presumption of the tournament and the influential smoke of the burning leaves force her to take leave from her senses. "And somebody bring me my weapons." Ikana smiled as she began to weave her hair up and out of her face, preparing to play a part in the Saiyajin Queen's downfall. She had always enjoyed the grandeur of battle, perhaps more then she should at times. No matter now, she had a blood letting to attend to.

* * * * *

He could feel it, all the energies that had begun to arrive a little over a day ago had begun to move and converge on the other side of the planet. There were varying degrees of intensity between the powers, some bleak and dark, nearly such as his own, and a few sparse others decorated without that taint on their energy. Slowly his lips moved, spreading to show this almost canine teeth in a feral grin. He arched his back, letting his tail unfurl stretching straight out behind him in a mass of fur. He could feel it pulsating through his veins, from the tip of his tail to the points of his teeth, the battle cry in his blood was screaming for action.

Vegeta turned, barking commands at Radditzu and Potatirs in the guttural language his mate loved so well. Both nodded and came to stand before their king. "My liege, what of the Queen?" It was Potatirs who'd spoken out of turn, letting her lips guide where her brain should have led. No one saw the blow, only the sight of a fellow warrior crunbling to the ground twitching with a broken jaw and fractured collar bone. "Leave them. We depart now." Corais ventured forth to take the place of her own fallen mate. Both underlings saluted once before following the aura of their King to the skies.

Trembling silently on the ground, withering in the mud Potatirs forced her body to limp to their camp circle. Searching through tear filled eyes she found the capsule she'd been searching for, the regen tank. Pressing the plunger she let it fall from her fingertips, not having enough strength to toss it. It seemed more menacing here in the clearing of an uncleared planet. As the battered warrior began to climb inside the machines glass womb a vauge thought occured to her. She, Potatirs, a 1st class warrior, abeit a weak one was climbing into a regen tank in the middle of an unguarded area on a hostile planet. She gave up thinking of potential fates she could amass from this mistake of hers, sleep was more comforting.

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