Most days the Emperor were home were quiet days. Kabocha as a planet, had a lot more to worry about than what its ruler was doing day in and day out, though the occasional ambassador or dignitary would arrive to talk trade, law, or come with a grievance that would either be settled or compromised upon--He didn't mind that people felt like they could approach him, it just got exhausting sometimes. When a knock came at the door to his chambers he groaned, rolling over, "Who is it?" He called, "Sir, an off-worlder has arrived," he groaned, "Fuck me sideways," he murmured to himself before he sat up in his extravagant bed, "Alright! Lead them to the throne room! I'll come attend to them in a few minutes!" The door opened and a pair of his guard with a retainer entered, "Oy!" He said, frowning at the breach of his privacy, "She's not an emissary," One of the guards explained, "I don't think she's here to talk." The Emperor rose from his bed. Moving across the room to his regalia he put on, before slipping his armor on over said regalia, a red gemmed necklace being clasped around his neck, "Send them to the throne room, I'll be down in a few minutes," he repeated, his head tilting to eye the trio, "Oh. And close the door on your way out will you?" He was less than pleased that his sleep had been interrupted but hey, that was life.

Eschalot would be approached by the pair of guards, though a third had joined them. A Kabochan woman clad in the garb of a retainer, loose flowing, breathable material, "Right this way, please," she gestured towards a pair of metal doors, they slid open as they were approached, leading the way down the a fifty foot hallway, past doors were presumed dignitaries were speaking with Kabochan representatives, though none had the power level or military look to them, while the Kabochan Confederacy had taken on many planets and collectives with military might, dozens of others had come willingly, seeing the benefits in trade a safety to joining the collective they came willingly and thus got a seat at the bargaining table that let them decide their own destinies all the more. As they walked by one such door opened, and a mechanical looking xeno of some sort stepped out. In reality the mechincal body was a suit for a much smaller cephalopod-like race only about the size of a soccer ball at the center of the chest. The suit though was equipped with four arms, each ending in three-fingered hands and a cylindrical head that had three different eye stalks sticking out from it, "I'm happy we could come to an agreement for both our peoples, we'll return home and let our leader know negotiations went successful," the being inside the suit was speaking to a kabochan woman who looked similar to the retainer Eschalot was currently being lead by, she loosed a charismatic, honeyed laugh, her curly opal white hair bouncing with the gesture, "Of course. The Agras have always been a valued ally to Kabocha, both in commerce and in might. You may let your queen know to expect the trade fleet within the week."

The retainer kept leading tight past them, the Agra's eye stalks shifted to eye the Saiyan woman, following as she walked by. The species had little love for Saiyans, they had been in more than their fair share of conflicts in ages past, remaining wary of the bipeds in general, Kabocha had broken those trends though, offering aid to Planet Agra on several occasions, some Agra believed it was a Saiyan that had caused their misfortune, indeed that was the case, but the one who inflicted such wounds was no normal Saiyan. Being led into the throne room chamber, it was just as extravagant as the rest of the palace. Large marble and granite pillars held the vaulted ceiling aloft, it had only recently completed its construction, that entire wing of the palace had almost been destroyed by the former Saiyan Dominion regent lord of Kabocha, a warrior named Thragg who Cam had bested in combat, in his Oozaru form no less. The masons of Kabocha had psychic powers though and didn't need the construction equipment needed to reassemble the building or cut the stones, this was all done by hand or with the mind, and as such the precision to the building was otherworldly, each brick, each pillar, sat perfectly in line, a marvel of architecture and most of the city had been built in similar fashion, "The Emperor will be with you shortly," offered, "Is this your first time here?" she was ask towards the Saiyan woman.

Cam would arrive in a few minutes, decked out in his armor and a white fluttering cape clipped to the epaulets, a scouter on the side of his head, the lens a bright green this time. Emperor Carambolis, a savior to his people, a liberator, a slayer of Saiyan warriors, though not one without mercy, he had held hundreds of Saiyans captured as prisoners, now with the alliance with the Dominion those prisoners had been returned, intact and unharmed, "Usually the Dominion sends word of emissaries before they arrive, you must've beat the message," the Emperor said, stepping forwards towards Eschalot, his amber eyes scanning over her, she had come alone and in military armor, "Unless... You're not an emissary?" He asked, his curiosity still piqued. Trailing alongside the Emperor was another Saiyan, his tail wrapped around his waist, he wore battle armor similar to Eschalot's, his held no shoulder coverings though and on the right breast a mark of tallies had been scratched into the peck, one didn't have to make a large mental leap to understood what those marks meant, worthy foes he had killed no doubt.

The Emperor leaned back, murmuring to his bodyguard, "Do you know this woman?"

---

WC: 998 Pepa

Soft. The silence was deafening in the throne room, on-lookers staring at the pair, wondering just how it was that Cam would react. Would he vaporize the Saiyan like some brigand warlord? Of course not, he broke into a fit of amused laughter, Eschalot's request seeming to have genuinely tickled the Kabochan, he was in his armor and had his scouter, why not? "Alright Saiyan. You're not the first to challenge me, but I'm not one to turn tail and run simply because there's some adversity. Not here though," he remarked, "Palace just got rebuilt, I don't want to chance ripping it down again for something as simple as an engaging spar." He shifted on a heel, his cape fluttering as he did so. The bejeweled Emperor beckoning for the Saiyan woman to follow.

They would go into a main foyer, down a hallway then down several flights of stairs, "I've a room that can withstand our levels of power for the most part," Duria trailed behind both of them, the terse Saiyan bodyguard was happy to observe, though he would've been happy to do the fighting himself. Still, it was refreshing working for a leader who indeed led from the front rather than the back, or rather, knew when to switch between the two. They would come to a set of sliding metal doors, made out of some kind of alloy that looked akin to steel but was certainly much, much more durable. The doors opening to reveal a sleek, smooth platform, "I suppose you don't have any terrain preference?" Cam would ask, "I've fought in deserts many, many times so I like to change it up." He moved to a panel on the wall, switching a dial, "Could just set it to random and see what it cooks up," he paused, "Ah, to explain. This room is a simulated environment," He twisted a dial and pressed a few buttons, the sleek devoid surface shifted, beginning to grow and change before it turned into a lush, green jungle, "The room is a sphere, five kilometers across at the diameter. It's randomly generated so no two environments are the same, even if the same conditions are selected. Looks like this one doesn't have a lot of surprises. Did one once where it was amidst an incredibly violent electrical storm," he chuckled fondly, looking over at Duria, "You almost won that one, apparently I'm something of a lightning rod."

He beckoned to Eschalot then, "Well, you can change the setting as you like," he disappeared them into the simulated jungle, calling out, "It won't help though. I leave the first strike to you!"

---

WC: 442 Pepa

Eschalot was reacting in a manner that Cam had about expected; she was a Saiyan after all, the thirst for combat and the glory it brought was self-evident in her blood. The shift to an icy tundra wouldn't phase the Kabochan, though he much preferred warm weather to cold, something about it made his muscles move more easily he figured, though Kabocha had its own fair share of cold evenings, but that was about the worst it would ever get--cold, not frigid save for at the poles of the planet, even then it wasn't nearly as harsh as some other worlds colder climates.

As Eschalot closed in, Cam's scouter would warn of her rising power level, "Ah, turned up the heat have you?" Cam asked as his his spin torqued backwards, his chin slipping a few inches backwards and Eschalot's energy infused punch went sliding past Cam's gaze. Time for a little payback. He thrust both hands forward a burst of energy--but not ki, rippled through the air between the two warriors, a field of psychic energy had burst forward to blast the Saiyan back, though whatever, if any, distance had been gained, the Emperor would quickly close between them as he had augmented his fists and feet with kinetic energy, it made his strikes hit much harder than any person rightly should have been able too. He followed up that psychic blast with a sky kick, left leg kicking directly upwards as Cam leaned his torso back ever so slightly to maintain his ever shifting balance, whether a connection was made or not, he would follow this strike up with a low right-handed jab for Eschalot's left side, going for ribs or kidneys it seemed, meanwhile his left hand charged up an energy attack that had become feared across the quadrant, a crimson orb of ki that crackled with volatile energy, the orb itself gained a solidified hardened shell though one could see light crackling beneath it, Cam sent the orb whirling at Eschalot at near point black range, if it connected it would strike it would hit like a solid object rather than shocking, burning energy, even the slightest break in the shell would cause a devastating explosion.

"Come on then, is this all you got?! Show me what you're made of!" He wanted to goad the Saiyan into a physical altercation, keeping her close would mean he could dismantle her defenses all the more readily, though he wouldn't mind being able to open up with some proper energy attacks, his aura bristling to life a mesh of protective energy would wash over Cam's body, he indeed, appeared to be ready for anything.

1d100+55·1d12·1d100+55·1d12·1d100+55·1d12·1d100+40·2d12+2·1d100

There it was another display of that Saiyan might, he mused for a moment, if Saiyans were familiar with the concept of hubris. "Underestimate you?" Cam gave a palpable laugh at that remark, he didn't underestimate his foes, if anything he chose to overestimate them, it lead to a lot of disappointment in fights but it also kept the Emperor alive. Eschalot had, momentarily, broken the ceiling of power that if anyone could reach it, then they had the potential to be dangerous, it didn't matter if she was a super Saiyan or not, she was still powerful. There it was, she closed in once more, he enjoyed that his foe in question liked to fight in a proper melee, something that likely has never happened in Eschalot's life as an elite warrior would occur then; her flurry of blows, every single fist that rained on him, his palms shifted to block, though more was going on than a simple block. Eschalot might feel that each strike she threw when it came in contact with Cam's defense would be striking a harder surface--he wasn't just blocking her strikes, he was absorbing the kinetic energy and force from her blows, somehow he was able to store it temporarily within himself, "Not bad!" He remarked.

He liked Eschalot he decided, had it been any other foe that head slam would have worked, though she was fighting a man who also knew how to use his head as a hammer, the moment her back arched backwards, the Emperor framed his body in a perfect mirror, slamming his head forward to meet Eschalot's brazen attack, only when he did he would exert all that stored force he had stolen, the Saiyan warrior would be lucky to get away with only a concussion, let alone a broken skull bone, though Cam wasn't done there, up close he decided it was time to show her that he was effectively, the fastest draw in the galaxy, in a fractional amount of time Cam raised his left hand and fired from the hip, a golden burst of ki that arced outwards in front of him as a cone threatened to fry everything in its path. He knew when he was finished with his onslaught that one thing would certain--Eschalot would be more than a little wounded, though he wasn't so naive as to think it was over with one simple rebuttal, "I don't underestimate my foes. I'm counting on your strength! I can make it my own!"

With that he raised both his hands up, slamming one down, then the other, whatever state Eschalot was in, it was about to get worse, tow giant invisible hands threatening to squash the Saiyan twice into the snow covered floor. "Have you had enough then?" he would ask, waiting for a response, the only indication of injury, a garish cut on his forehead from the impact of skull against skull.

3d4·1d100+50·1d12·1d100+50·1d12

Eschalot was indeed mighty, but like many Saiyans, what she made up for in might, she lacked in stratagem and thinking, the warrior was set on trying to exact as much brute force on Carambolis as she could, he knew it, she knew it, and once he saw the tactics that was all he needed to succeed. His strange amber eyes seemed able to anticipate the Saiyans moves as he brought about an impeccable defense, Cam was the kind of warrior who like to let his enemies make the first strike, then find a weakness in their form or delivery and exploit it, Eschalot was no different in this regard. This time when her barrage came Cam opted to block in a different, way, a hand thrust forward and a wall of energy appeared between the two of them, punching it would be akin to punching water, the energy dispersed, even if she hit Cam it would simply bump him, all force was gone, an field of entropic energy had sapped away all the force behind each and every one of Eschalot's strikes.

He bobbed his head from one side to the other as if musing upon the Saiyans strength, "Not bad, you won't want to move through that though," he explained, "Force and entropy, I have control of both. Swing smarter, not harder," he declared before he made a gripping fist outstretched in Eschalot's body. The first grip would be a crushing one meant to restrain her, before he would attempt to send the girl flying across his training room to impact with the wall, his free hand thrusting forward to emit another wave of psychic force, trying to crush the elite warrior between the wall and and said emitted wave of force. She was certainly trying and manifesting such a strong amount of power and truth be told it was impressive, it seemed to be a lot of flash though, the substance backing it up was too easy to outmaneuver. Eschalot likely made for a good shock trooper, her tactics and methods spoke of that kind of life--striking fast and striking hard, but Cam, he was meant to endure and outlast.

He hated that the Saiyan warrior was pushing him this far, though he understood it was the nature of the Saiyan race to fight harder, when you brought them to the brink it only made them stronger, his people shared that reality with Saiyans in some respects, Carambolis had certainly fought to his last. He had been held dead to rights by foes stronger than him in the past and it was mercy, or perhaps pity, alone, that had saved him in those regards. His resolve never broke though, not once. Even when nearly every bone in his body had been broken, he persevered, dragging himself over desert sands, through forest, hiding from galactic patrol and Frieza force goons in battles that had gone south, getting the drop on them or fighting harder, smarter, or simply ambushing them as needed. While Saiyans embraced the concept of flying to close to the sun and letting themselves be immolated, Kabochans focused on surviving the fall from that immolation. His race was one of the most resilient in the galaxy, that was evident in his defeat of two much larger factions in open war on more than a handful of occasions now.

When Eschalot unleashed her ferocity and might, Cam knew to shy away from it, he brought about his defenses, blocking and parrying what blows he could, though soon he realized she was moving to fast. Eschalot would feel one of her fists crash into his jaw, though he recovered--a kick landed against his ribs, he recovered again! Pain was momentary, In your mind, he could ignore it for a few moments, finally he sent both his hands forward, a barrier of pure entropic energy forming once more, taking the wind out of Eschalot's sails, stealing away her momentum, though if she got a look at Cam she could see her certainly wasn't invincible, he had taken a few licks, though now it was time to get his own in, "You Saiyans are indeed mighty, your physical strength is impressive. Radia would be lucky to have you in her ranks," hands still splayed, his attacks began charging up, "But one fatal flaw in the Saiyan ideology is confusing strength and power, let me show you!" He announced before he unleashed his fury. Two robs of power grew from Cam's hands, pure opal white balsl of energy that quickly doubled in size, from golf ball to tennis ball, until they had become nearly three feet wide each, thrusting both hands forward the orbs spat forth, a mixture of white, gold, and red ki cutting across the room, aimed directly for the Saiyan elite, they threatened to consume all that she was, to unmake and de-atomize her very being. This kind of attack was reserved typically for ending worlds, not sparring with Saiyans, though much to his chargin, it had come to this.

1d100+40·1d100+40·3d12+3·3d12+3·2d4·1d100+40·1d100+40·3d12+3·3d12+3·2d4