A/N: So, I know it hasn't even been twenty-four hours since my last update, but I was so inspired by your guys' reviews that this next chapter practically wrote itself!

Lost of love to koolkat44, akatmandu and Kamaria Jay for your reviews! I was just telling my friend how much I love all of you for your support. You guys are the best! 3


They had left the academy about an hour ago and now Vegeta paced in the training room, puzzling out his next move. Cooler's forces were moving in fast. The icejin was growing restless with the stalemate they'd been locked in for months. Vegeta's own forces were getting stronger by the day as Saiyans from all classes were training harder than ever to unlock the power of their ancestors. With Bulma's annoying tactics for improving his planet's image, they had a constant stream of allies and supplies flowing into the capital to be processed and shipped out to where they were needed. Fate, it seemed, was turning in favor to the Saiyans.

But still, war was hard.

Vegeta was not a blind king. He could see the affect the battles were having on his people. Despite their growing strength, they were weary. Cooler had proved to be a more ruthless and cunning warlord than his brother. Vegeta knew the fighting had to end soon, and so he was in the final stages of moving his pawns and securing his position for checkmate.

The first move was to take over the academy and turn it into a battleship. It had been a grueling discussion with Sarowyn over which planet to relocate her academy to, the funds they would receive, and how they would be transported. It didn't help that the woman was distraught over the loss of her dear pet Beta. In fact, the headmistress herself had been lucky to survive the day, considering how low Vegeta's tolerance was running after discovering how brutally she treated her prisoners. Torture had never been his choice method of killing. Death was a necessity in these times, yes, but he brought it swiftly to his enemies. It was nothing short of sadistic to drag it out.

There was no honor, no pride to be had in pulling the legs off of an insect simply to watch it squirm.

He heard the soft sound of a door closing and looked up to see the head medic, a short, green-skinned reptile, walk towards him on bare, pointed feet. He kept his eyes diverted and his head low as he approached the king. The white tuft of hair attached to his head swayed wistfully with every step, amusing Vegeta almost as much as the creature's flicking tongue.

"What is it, Lizain?"

The medic, Lizain, bowed. "My lord, I have examined the girl and am here to give you a report, as you requested." Like any reptile, he spoke with a distinctive hiss, making him somewhat difficult to understand.

"Get on with it, then," Vegeta replied, halting in his pacing to better focus on the lizard's words.

"Her major injuries were few; a cracked pelvis, three broken ribs, a fractured cheekbone. Many of the lesions covering her body were severely infected and upon further testing I discovered blood poisoning along with a host of various diseases, no doubt the aftermath of the forced intercourse. But what was most surprising was the embryo in her uterus."

Vegeta looked at the medic in bewilderment.

"It was barely out of the zygote stage, my lord, as she was held prisoner for but a few days. It was easily taken care of with proper medication. But it was unusual with how quickly she became pregnant. It is known that the concubine academies have their women take contraception drugs. The drugs should have still been in her system to prevent such a thing."

"Never mind that," Vegeta said, not caring how unusual the circumstances were so long as the thing was taken care of. "What of her injuries? The diseases? You have taken care of them as well?"

"Yes, sire. I modified the regeneration tank cycle to fully heal and clean her system. She should be arriving at Prince Trunks's chambers presently, the very picture of health."

The king nodded his approval. He dismissed the medic and resumed his pacing. He let his thoughts wonder to the woman his son had been so adamant on obtaining. He had seen for himself the fight in her. She was strong to have broken the chain binding her wrist. And she was passionate. Vegeta let himself hope that she would be the one to awaken his son's spark with her own. There was a lot of power in that boy, but he was still just a boy. He would need to become a man before his full potential was realized.

"Bra," he suddenly called to the quiet room. As he had expected, his teenage daughter stepped out from her hiding place behind a far pillar.

"Yes, daddy?" she asked in a sweet voice. She tried to appear as innocent as could be, but he knew she had been listening intently to the entire exchange.

"I want you to keep an eye on Trunks and his new concubine."

"Daddy, you don't mean spying, do you?" There was a flicker of excitement in her blue eyes, so much like her mother's.

"In a sense, yes," he answered. "Just make sure he doesn't screw this up as well."

Bra clapped her hands together in excitement. "You can count on me! Bra, expert matchmaker and connoisseur of love!" She winked and stuck her tongue out before running from the room with an excited hop to her step.

Vegeta sighed. What, exactly, had he just unleashed?


Avelyn opened her eyes as she felt cold air hit her exposed body. She wiped pastel blue gunk from her face as the pod she was in opened. She looked around and realized she was in a regeneration tank. She sat still as two lizard-like creatures in white uniforms removed the many plugs stuck on her body before they helped her from the tank. Why was she in one of those Saiyan contraptions?

She watched wide-eyed as she was handed a thin white towel and shoved out the door. Before she had the towel completely wrapped around her naked body, a large hand encircled her forearm and began pulling her forward. She looked up at the tall Saiyan guard. His jaw was set in determination, as if he was willing himself not to look down at her.

She was pushed through a doorway and into a neat, white room. The door slid shut behind her and she looked around at her new surroundings. She walked past a couch and matching arm chair to look out a small circular window set into the metal wall. Her gaze was met with the empty blackness of space. She backed up in shock. She was on a spaceship? How?

The fact was, as hard as she tried, she couldn't remember. She recalled eating breakfast that morning as she always did, with Auntie chatting away in her ear. After that, she made plans to go over her latest act for the shows next week, and then… nothing. Her mind was blank.

A thick strand of hair fell into her face and she realized she was still covered in the thick, sticky regen fluid. She sighed and looked around the room until she spotted a small dresser standing in the corner. After wiping her hands off on her towel, she dug around in the drawers, shocked to find nothing but men's clothing; training spandex, large, baggy pants, black shirt after black shirt. Looking through the bottom drawer, she paused in surprise. She lifted up a long-sleeved, white button-up shirt. It looked startlingly familiar to the clothes back on her home planet. She snatched up a pair of boxers to go with the shirt and tried the only other door besides the one she had come through.

Success! It was the bathroom. She examined the shower and was delighted to find it was similar to the one in the tiny apartment she had shared with the woman who had raised her. She let the towel slip from her body and gratefully entered the hot jet of water. She lathered shampoo into her hair, scrunching her nose at the scent. It wasn't unpleasant; it just wasn't the floral aroma she was used to. It was by no means a soap meant for a woman.

As she went to scrub away the remaining regeneration tank fluid covering her body, she sighed. How had she ended up here? And how would she get back home? She was in the hands of the Saiyans, there was no doubt about that. They were known were take concubines and mistresses, but this usually meant going through one of the many training academies set up all over the universe. She hadn't really been taken straight from her planet, had she?

She turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a new towel from the rack over the toilet and drying off quickly. The material of the boxers was soft. She slid the shirt over her shoulders and buttoned only three buttons in the middle, leaving her navel exposed. The sleeves were way too long, hanging just above her fingertips. She walked out into the main room, running her fingers through her hair. It was full of tangles. She picked up the brush she had seen on the bedside table and tried pulling it through the red mess on her head. She pulled harder and harder, growling in frustration, as the tangles refused to give.

The sound of the door sliding open behind her made her spin around. Standing there, mirroring her look of astonishment, was the Saiyan prince. Her hand dropped to her side and she was too distracted to notice that the brush stayed entangled in her hair. She simply stared at him, unsure of what to do. Why was she in the prince's room!

"I, uhm…" The prince trailed, off, averting his eyes as a blush colored his face.

Avelyn opened her mouth to apologize, but abruptly closed it when no sound came out. She tried again and only succeeded with a distressed grunt. Prince Trunks looked at her again, this time with puzzlement. She reached up and felt her throat hesitantly. It was still there, still in one piece. Nothing felt wrong, but she couldn't speak.

"Are you okay?"

She was stunned to hear the genuine tone to his voice. He actually sounded concerned. She just shook her head in response, trying not to panic. No, she most certainly was not okay. Her voice was gone! What had they done to her while she was in the regeneration tank! She couldn't remember how she got on this ship, only waking up in the regeneration tank. Surely they could have done something and forced her to forget!

She was breathing rapidly, her eyes darting to and fro. She forgot about being calm. Her mind had been tampered with without her knowledge! She flinched as a pair of hands placed themselves on her shoulders. She looked up into the eyes of the prince, who now stood over her, his lips pointed down into a worried frown.

"Your name is Avelyn, right?"

She nodded dumbly. His voice was low, a hushed rumble that ran up and down her spine, leaving chills. His blue eyes were mesmerizing and reminded her of someone she had known once. She couldn't recall his name or when or even where she had met him, but there was no doubt that she had seen the look in Trunks's eyes before, from someone else.

"Avelyn, I want you to try speaking again, can you do that?"

She obliged and opened her mouth once again. Still, no words, no intelligent sounds. Trunks nodded and let her go. She stumbled back and her knees hit the bed, causing her to sit down heavily on the neat white covers. She watched him carefully, feeling like a child as he paced back and forth in front of her.

"It's common in cases of trauma for an individual to lose the capability of speech," he explained. The thumb of his right hand was tapping out a rhythm on his chin while his left hand was behind his back. "Usually, this is coupled with memory suppression…"

Avelyn took this time while he was distracted with mumbling to himself to study him. He was only a few inches taller than her, his body stacked with muscles, but still remained lithe and agile. His pale violet hair was falling out of its low ponytail and hung straight. He slid his armor over his head absent-mindedly and slipped on a black shirt that had been hanging over the back of the couch. He then pulled on a pair of baggy black pants over his small blue tights. She approved of this look more than the other one. It suited him much better.

She raised an eyebrow when he glanced at her, having no clue what he was talking about. Trauma? Suppressed memories? Could it be true? Had something happened to her that had caused her to lose the ability to talk? Her eyes widened with fear again.

"But, these things can be recovered," he added, seeing her expression. "There's not much you can actively do. You just have to let it happen on its own."

She nodded, deciding to trust him. Though her purpose for being there was unclear to her, he appeared to have no interest in harming her. In fact, he seemed to be concerned. Besides, she was stuck on this floating metal heap in the middle of space without any way to effectively communicate. She was helpless.

Avelyn reached up and felt the brush handle. She growled again and tried dislodging it from her hair. Her eyes began to tear up as she yanked at her scalp.

"Here, let me do it."

She let go of the brush as she felt Trunks's weight on the mattress behind her. He took the brush in his hands and, after a few seconds of gentle tugging, freed it and began pulling it through her hair. He had her waves of red unraveled in minutes. She turned to look at him. He shrugged.

"I live with two women. I can't tell you how many times I had to braid Bra's hair for her growing up," he laughed.

Avelyn felt herself smile. She had heard that Trunks was kind, but she had been reluctant to believe it. Now as she sat next to him, looking at his shy grin and unsure posture, she knew that he was only Saiyan by birth, but human in nature. He was nothing like the brute his father was said to be. It seemed his mother had had more of an influence on him than the king.

Perhaps it would not be such a bad thing to be stuck with him.


Trunks froze as the girl slumped back. Her head hit his shoulder and he realized that she had fallen asleep sometime while he had been brushing her hair. He tried not to jostle her too much as he stood up and tucked her under the covers of his bed. He looked at her sleeping face; at her full lips that were parted slightly, the thick lashes that brushed her cheeks, and the gentle red waves that spread out against the white backdrop of the pillow. She had not looked like this when he had seen her in the cell. Not at all.

He swallowed the lump building in his throat and quickly turned from her to sit on the couch. He thought over everything as he stared at the far wall. She couldn't speak. That much was evident. He knew from his studies that this kind of psychological problem came with traumas like the one she had endured. Chances were, she was also repressing the memories of that trauma. He would have to find some way to gauge the depths of her disorder without needlessly upsetting her. She was no doubt fragile in both mind and body. Even the tiniest distress could end badly for her.

He bit on his bottom lip as he tried to think of what to do. He had thought at the time that he was saving her life, but was he really? She was now mute and as terrified as a caged bird. She was vulnerable and he was taking her straight into a war-torn lifestyle. Surely, that was not mercy as it should be.

He looked back to her peacefully sleeping frame and sighed. No, what he had done had been selfish and he had been fully aware of it all the while. Some part of him had wanted that girl—a part big enough to make him reach out and take her.

But now that he had her, what was he to do with her?

He stretched out on the couch and laced his fingers behind his head. There would be time to figure that out on the trip back. Plenty of time.


A/N: Well, well, well, what have we here? A little twist? Hahaha, I love those.

And finally! Some Ave/Trunks interaction! I haven't written or read an overly-adorable, cutesy romance in awhile, so I think this story might begin to sway that way. But don't worry! There will be plenty of action!... of all sorts. ;D