Dismissing the hologram showing Frieza's fleet, I finally turned my complete attention to the hologram in the center.
It showed three glowing dots. Each dot had a bunch of data accompanying it. Power output, stability, movement vector data, mostly.
These three dots correlated to Pepper, Tater, and Lynn's current locations.
They were training in space. Specifically, the expanse of space directly between Jupiter and Saturn.
Though, currently, the sparring had drifted into Saturn's rings. The girls were chasing Tater through the field of rocky debris, apparently.
Before even calling Frieza, I'd come to realize something rather important.
Frieza liked destroying planets.
Planets were fairly fragile things.
If I fought Frieza on Earth, planetside, the outcome was already decided.
I would push him. Significantly. In fact, if his actual output was the same as what it'd been in the timeline I remembered from the stories, I'd be significantly stronger than him.
By an unstoppable order of magnitude.
Then, Frieza would blow up the planet without hesitation.
I'd lose the fight. My daughter would die. Everyone would die.
Bulma had gotten pregnant shortly after Bell's birth. She and the baby would die.
Unacceptable possibilities.
The answer?
Simply don't fight Frieza on Earth.
Fight him in space.
Unfortunately, there were significant problems with that answer. While eloquent on paper, it was, in reality, a logistical nightmare.
Naturally, Saiyans couldn't breathe in a vacuum.
That didn't mean that I was completely useless in space. Experimentation had taught me that it was possible to utilize one's aura to forcibly take a small pocket of air off-planet with oneself while flying, allowing nearly an hour of function in the vacuum.
Or about five minutes of actual exertion.
Not enough by a long shot.
Enough to casually fly to Mars without a ship.
Not enough to defeat an intergalactic tyrant.
I discarded the possibility of using that technique almost immediately. The limitation was simply too real. Extending it by a significant amount, with practice and breathing techniques, was possible, but it wouldn't give enough time.
So, Zeck and I put our heads together, and came up with it.
Technological assistance.
Specifically, something similar to a blood sugar monitor, like people with Diabetes would utilize.
But more difficult. More thorough.
Plugged into the bloodstream, we developed something that could keep the average Saiyan fighting without issue in an environment without breathable oxygen for around a quarter of the day, even under heavy exertion.
This meant that it was suddenly possible for us to train in the vacuum of space.
In space, you didn't have any planet beneath you, to blow up.
That made it the perfect training ground.
No more needing to hold back out of fear of the Earth simply cracking under the effect of our full power and a poorly aimed shot.
The chances of a badly aimed shot heading straight for a planet when the nearest planet was millions of kilometers away was exceptionally low, after all.
And space was worse than gravity, resistance-wise, too. Just awful.
I'd even taken Tater's Blutz Light generator and combined it with his Oxygen Supplementer, so that he only had to carry around one little device, plugged into his bloodstream near the hip area.
I figured I'd check on their training before I went to bed.
Everything seemed to be in order. They were all running at top-tier efficiency.
I stood to sign off of my terminal and get some shut-eye when Tater's little holographic ball of light began flashing red. Immediately, my butt shot right back into the chair, and I began tapping away.
Tater's Oxygen Supplementer was malfunctioning.
The malfunction lasted less than a minute. The primary backup built into the device malfunctioned as well, but the secondary backup finally kicked in to stabilize the issue.
Tater's readings went back to normal quickly, his power level, which had dropped like a stone during the glitch, began slowly climbing back up to normal.
I leaned back in my chair, relieved.
Then, I shrugged.
I'd deal with it tomorrow. Tater wasn't in much danger now that the device was working once more. I'd just have to look it over once he got back down to Earth.
The malfunction likely had something to do with the fact that Tater's device was so much more complex than the others.
For now, there wasn't much I could do about it unless Tater decided that the danger was great enough to force him to stop training and come directly to me about it.
The chances of that were essentially nil.
Death-defying risk? For a Saiyan, that was a Tuesday.
I shut my terminal off and closed the door to my office behind me, headed for bed.