Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or the characters

Well, I wasn't going to post again so soon, but I just finished this, and I have to say, I'm just all excited now. The other night, when I was supposed to be getting sleep in the limited time I had before I had to get up in the early morning, my mind wouldn't let me sleep, planning out really amazing scenes for the future of the story…I had to keep writing ideas down after each time my head hit the pillow. So, this story wants to be written and updated it seems XD Anyway, I really like how this chapter came out, but better ones are to come :) Thank you to everyone who has already read and reviewed last chapter.

The stare down between the prince and the assassin was quite intense. Bulma had not seen her mate with such an expression since the day a random Saiyan tried to take her out of the restaurant her first time being on Planet Vegeta. He had looked so cold and calculating, like the wrong move would have set him off and launch him into battle. It was the look Soldier, no, Tomaren, had worn since he arrived even as he told his mother he wanted her dead. Bulma guessed that this was the look of a killer. The thought alone probably should have bothered her more than it actually did.

"What do you have to say?"

Tomaren did not react to the challenge he could hear in the prince's voice. His eyes, instead, landed on his aunt, studying her. "Why do you not retreat?"

"Huh?" Bulma gasped out before she regained her composure and chuckled. "I guess I'm not one to run away from danger."

"Yes, your aunt can be a pain in the ass sometimes," Vegeta scoffed, keeping up the façade he had mastered throughout his life. Bulma was amazed, able to feel his amusement at his own words and the fondness put behind the teasing jeer. She would have to ask him later how he could feel one way yet display completely different emotions.

Tomaren shook his head and just stared on, looking at the two. "You don't mean that," he observed. "The woman doesn't look offended by that taunt. It's that bond, correct?"

"I take it your father filled you in on the truth," Vegeta stated, relaxing a bit. "It is why you told Tights to stay away from you. You don't want to kill her."

"I do," Tomaren reiterated. "My mind does not want me to kill her. These instincts I have, they do. I…I want to get my father away from Cooler before he notices I've fled, but I cannot be near her or I will end up betraying him…them."

"My sister understands," Bulma offered as consolation. "You've been through a terrible ordeal. There was a future where my son may have shared your fate."

"Time travel," Tomaren figured. "No wonder. Lord Cooler…I mean Cooler…he has been trying to figure out how the Saiyans got the drop on Cold."

"I thought you believed us to be extinct," Vegeta pointed out.

"I tried to find holes in your story," Tomaren admitted. "I couldn't. I knew Cold perished at the hands of an old enemy. Now, I believe that old enemy was you."

Vegeta smirked. "Plan to kill me for my treachery?" he jeered arrogantly.

"No," Tomaren emotionlessly refuted. "You have not been assigned as a target nor is it my responsibility to bring you in for justice."

With that confession, Vegeta stepped away from Bulma and the other Saiyans lowered their guard. Tomaren was there on his own volition, so he would not harm them. The only one at risk was Tights, so they would need to keep the two of them apart. "So…you're really here to aid in a plan?" Kakarot questioned.

Tomaren didn't answer the Saiyan, but Vegeta responded to his friend. "He is."

"Well, that's great then," Bulma said excitedly. "You know the ship really well."

"Yes."

Tomaren made no move to say anything else. He simply stared at the blue-haired woman. Her expression faltered. "Well?" Vegeta prompted, earning Tomaren's attention. The prince had his arms crossed, and it didn't look like he would be taking any nonsense.

The assassin decided not to keep them waiting any longer. "There is an abandoned section of the ship not too far from the dungeon," he started to explain. "I usually go there to re-center myself after mission. It used to be a hanger for returning crafts, but only I return and leave from there. It is my own private entryway, and since there is no one around, there is no one to mark my time of arrival."

"Almost like dealing with an apparition," Raditz stated.

Nappa scoffed at the idea and looked to his grandson. "What? Cooler doesn't keep tabs on you?"

Tomaren looked to the bald stranger, eyes examining the older Saiyan. "I have never before gone rogue."

"Until now, he hasn't need to worry," Vegeta elaborated. He was starting to notice that Tomaren only yielded vital information and only when prompted. The prince's eyes narrowed as he managed to conceal his rage at the thought of his nephew being made into a puppet. Hopefully, now that he was away from Cooler, he would be engaged in other conversations. He needed to learn how to interact with others, his comrades and family, as a Saiyan, not as an assassin. "This hanger…how big of a ship can it hold? Single pods?"

Tomaren replied, "Single pods may enter, but larger crafts, like fighters, have been known to fit."

"Fighters?" Bulma questioned, never having heard the term.

"Unlike Frieza and his father," Vegeta began, "Cooler had his scientists develop a vessel that could actually fire weapons at other crafts. Frieza and Cold but stuck to single pods for sending out soldiers. They never made chase to other vessels."

Bulma sighed and shook her head. "I hate to say this," she muttered, "but it sounds like Cooler has more of an arsenal. Are we sure he's related to Cold and Frieza."

The three Saiyans who had lived under Frieza all snorted a bitter laugh. "If only Frieza could hear the Princess of Saiyans trash his competency," Vegeta murmured wearing an amused grin. "I would pay to see that."

"We should start planning logistics if this is going to work," Kakarot interjected. "Celen is on borrowed time, just like we all are."

"If we do this, we will be launching ourselves into battle much quicker," Vegeta reminded them. "I say we check in on the other men on the planet tomorrow to evaluate them, and then we take a couple of days to train with Tomaren here." He looked over to his nephew, two pairs of dark eyes clashing. "I am aware of your success rate, and I know you must be incredibly skilled, but you have always worked alone. We need to see how you work with us on a team. It is not every man for himself."

"My father said something like that, too. Bonds between comrades."

Vegeta nodded. "Bonds between comrades in arms are highly important. Hopefully you will be able to cultivate at least one."

Before anything else could be discussed, Bunny came outside calling them for dinner. At that moment, five stomachs rumbled, including Tomaren's. Bulma actually laughed at that before she pulled her mate to follow her. She stopped in front of the picnic table though, offering for Tomaren to eat outside, but she promised her nephew that he would not be eating alone. Tomaren did not understand why this woman, though blood related, cared so much about him eating alone. He had done so many times in the past. It was better for him to be alone.

As the door back door closed, the blinds moved from side to side revealing his mother who looked so sullen and downtrodden. The Galactic Patrolman had been talking to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. Tomaren could feel that she was being comforted, but at the same time he was relieved his cousins came outside to join them with their friends. They blocked his view, and his boiling blood quelled for the time being.

God, it hurt so much. How long had it been since his son had stood before him? Minutes? Hours? Days? It really felt like days, but having no perception of time could do that to a person. Celen looked up seeing the open cell. Did Tomaren leave it open? Oh, right, he destroyed the lock.

Whoever had been coming clearly hadn't. Celen wondered what befell the soldier and, though he was loathe to admit it, his son may have played a part in the man's demise. He was safe, for the time being anyway, thanks to his son's actions. Now, if only he could break free. Cooler would send someone else eventually.

"Well, well," a familiar voice reached his ears. "How are you holding up, third-class?"

"Turles," Celen spat as his eyes met that of his old rival. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Well, after you decided to go all noble," Turles remarked before his smirked maliciously at the prisoner, "I hadn't. And I found someone who could use the skills I possessed."

Celen just glared down at the Saiyan. "Traitor."

"Actually, you were the traitor first, so this," he said gesturing to himself in the full PTO garb, "doesn't count."

"Frieza was going to destroy us," Celen argued. "You know that, don't you?"

"Of course," Turles stated. "That's why it was better to go rogue and negotiate my own agreements. King Vegeta was a moron when it came to that. I have no idea why my brother would choose to work with that self-serving bastard."

"So then you were a traitor," Celen snapped harshly. "Bardock was always a decent man, and very powerful for someone of the third-class category."

"Please," Turles laughed. "I'm stronger than that eyesore. I'm stronger than you, too."

"Physical strength isn't everything," Celen calmly refuted. "And I doubt that. You were second-class, and I was first, but I was demoted because of my connection to Tights."

"Yes, the woman who became your mate." Celen was surprised that Turles knew this. "I've heard from Lord Cooler. You really fucked yourself badly with that one. To take a weakling as a mate. Unbelievable. But I guess it's a growing trend. Even the prince and my idiotic nephew made that mistake."

"Raditz took an Earthling for a mate?" Celen questioned, shocked. He never had anything against Raditz. He was just a teen when he was taken aboard Frieza's ship.

"No, Kakarot," Turles stated. Oh, Celen had forgotten about him. He had just been born before hell broke loose on the planet. "I've followed up on all of my family and yours. I'm still reeling over Prince Vegeta being ensnared by the sister of the whore you took."

"Do not talk about her like that!" Celen roared.

"Or what?" Turles taunted. "To be honest, though, I'm interested to see what's so special. The prince was always closed off, so there must be something to the princess worthwhile. Lord Cooler has promised me her once she undergoes the transformation. She'll be a more tolerable mate that way. No need to hold back, if you know what I mean."

"Shut up!" Celen snarled. He refused to hear this bastard talk about his sister-in-law in such a disgusting, lewd way.

Turles held up his hands as he shrugged. "Now, now, no need to shout. To get to the point, I only came down here to see if you were still alive. I'll give you this tidbit. Cooler isn't ready for you to die, yet. Now until Soldier becomes completely his. As for your bitch's sister, this was just a heads up. You can't stop me, Celen, not now, not ever. I've finally beat you."

Turles began to walk away, ignoring the sneer and look of pure hatred on Celen's face. He stopped by the door and said, "You know, I would go to Cooler about this lock, but you're trapped. You can't do anything, so I'll leave it be. Your way of escape will be looking you in the face, and you won't be able to do anything to stop it. Goodbye, Celen."

It was a blessing that Turles was gone, because Celen was sick of listening to him. He couldn't let this happen. He didn't know what Turles meant about making Tomaren completely his, but he wouldn't allow it. At least the one consolation he had was that Tomaren knew the truth and fled as he ordered. Most likely, he would meet up with the prince again, and he would help guide his son in the ways of being a Saiyan. But what of Bulma? What transformation? Celen gasped. No…no, he couldn't mean the cyborg project! Eyes went wide as Celen realized he could give up. His son and sister needed him!

The chains would not budge as he tried to move his fist out, but it didn't matter. He needed to get out of this cell, and then he needed to lie low and heal. Then, and only then, could he be of any use. Tomaren was safe, but if Cooler wanted Bulma, he needed to remain hidden on the ship. He would stop that horrible transformation from happening. He couldn't let what happened to Tights happen to anyone else.

With a newfound strength, Celen pulled hard against the ki-restraining shackles. Nothing happened, but he would not surrender. He kept pulling and tugging against the chains that bound him. It hurt, badly, as the metal dug into his already torn skin. He cried out in pain, determination, and sheer exertion, and eventually the wall behind him gave way and he fell to the ground face first. He immediately stood, still chained, but at least freed from the prison itself. The shock nearly froze him, but he knew he couldn't linger. If anyone else came to check on him, he needed to be concealed, for they would know he escaped.

He knew of a place to go! Celen remembered the ships schematics. There was an old hanger that no one ever visited. He could lie low there until he regained his strength and could break free of the rest of his imprisonment.

He moved swiftly.

Tomaren didn't know what to think of the six figures who had come to join him. He knew that Trunks and Bulla were his cousins, but that held no meaning to him, and then there were Kakarot's sons, one of their female companions, and then a woman who had been as unusually quiet like him. The other four were the ones running the conversation as they ate the meal that his apparent grandmother had brought out for them.

"Man, I really love this," Trunks said as he downed some pulled pork. "I'm honestly jealous you guys have gotten to enjoy our grandmother's cooking more than we have!"

Goten laughed and waved him off. "Eh, don't worry. You'll catch up. You still have to taste our mother's cooking."

"That good?" Bulla questioned, smiling at her intended.

"Mm-hm," Goten grunted as he started shoveling more food down his throat.

"Ugh, I can't believe you guys are eating so much," Videl remarked. "I don't feel like I can eat a thing."

"Just you wait," Trunks remarked, not really thinking about his words. "When mom was pregnant with Bulla, she became really ravenous after the first couple of months."

Both Gohan and Videl spit out whatever they had been eating, both nearly choking on their food. "W-What?" Gohan asked. "How did you know?"

"You knew?" Videl nearly shrieked. "I was going to surprise you!"

Gohan merely smiled at the human. "I was waiting for you to tell me. I could sense the energy. I didn't know if you knew yet. You're not very far along, not yet, a couple of months."

"You could sense it?" Videl questioned, eyes widened in amazement. Then she wrapped her arms around her stomach. "Well, what do you think about it?"

"I'm really happy," Gohan answered sincerely, "but I wish it wasn't now. Not with this huge fight coming up. If what dad said is true, the Arcosians have no problem using children for their own personal gain."

Something stabbed at Tomaren, for her had been that child. Trunks's eyes met his, and the prince grew serious. "Uh, guys, it's a legitimate concern, but this got really dark, really fast. It's supposed to be a happy thing, so just…don't worry about Cooler right now. Besides, it's not like he'll know. Cold didn't even know when he kidnapped my mother that she was pregnant with me."

"I still can't believe how you would have lived," Bulla sighed, "but I agree. We've all had to deal with it, even if it's not personally. Daddy still struggles sometimes."

"Yeah, we know," Goten replied. "Our father said something similar. But, back to the baby, so are you guys hoping for a boy or a girl?"

"Girl," both said, both shocking the other looking to each other surprised before smiling.

Gohan elaborated, "I just think it would be nice to have a daughter."

Thia sucked in a gasp, but said nothing as Trunks immediately took her hand. "You okay?" The princess only nodded making Trunks's brow furrow.

Tomaren finally spoke up. "Why do you not speak?"

Trunks looked over to his cousin and grimaced. "It's a…sensitive subject. It's the way of her people."

"Don't even get me started," Bulla said hatefully as she crossed her arms. Goten looked upon her with empathy from across the table.

"Sen…sitive?" Tomaren repeated. "Like case sensitive? Forbidden from discussion?"

Thia shook her head, her pleading eyes meeting Trunks's. "No, not can't be discussed. Not even shouldn't. Just, it's an upsetting topic for both my intended and my sister."

"May I ask why?" Videl treaded cautiously.

Thia looked to the other woman, a stranger to her, but she managed to muster all of her gumption. "My race is not like yours or the Saiyans. Women have no rights on our planet, not like here. To be honest, me having this conversation with you could have resulted in punishment. I'm…I'm working on it, but when I am around so many strangers…it's just safe not to speak."

"It is safe," Trunks assured her. "You are no longer held by the laws of the ones who raised you. You can say, do, and become whatever you want. You aren't just the Needellen princess, but my intended mate. I'll never let you suffer like that again."

"Aw," Bulla murmured softly, grinning at Thia. "See, he's a big softy. You have nothing to worry about."

Trunks only laughed at the remark. "Yeah, thanks sis."

Tomaren was actually affected by Trunks's words. Though he felt nothing for any that he shared the table with, something stirred when Trunks said that Thia could be whoever she wanted now that she was free from the confines of the laws she grew up with. If his cousin felt that way about the princess, then Tomaren should feel like he could one day make a true break from the culture he was raised under. Well, that seemed more like a fairytale, if anything. Tomaren was a trained assassin, and those instincts would never leave him, no matter how hard he willed them away. He looked over at Trunks again to see his cousin staring forcefully at him. Something happened. Something stirred in Tomaren's mind when his eyes met Trunks's again. It was as if Trunks had known what he was thinking, had meant the words for him along with his…intended? Tomaren did not know if he would ever understand the bond, but what he did know was now he felt three presences in his mind, and this one was new.

The hanger was definitely void of life, which came as a relief to the haggard Saiyan. He sat down, leaning against the wall, his wrists still chained with some of the torn wall dangling from the other end. Getting out of the ki restraints would have to wait while he rested and gathered his strength. At least he could move. He was thankful for that. Although, it had been a struggle to reach this place. He needed to make sure he left no trail of blood, and to do so, he held his bleeding wrists to his body, drenching his tattered remains of clothing in red.

This was bad. He knew this. As a doctor, he knew that if he didn't replace nutrients and fluids, his body would start to fail. He knew that not having anything to stop the bleeding would end up with him passing out, and he couldn't very well find a healing chamber without someone shooting him down on sight. Even if they didn't kill him, the fatigue surely would.

Celen turned his head which was leaned back against the cool, metal wall. When he did, he was met with an expected sight. Supplies. Here, in this abandoned hanger, he saw a little room. Weakly, he crawled over to it, carrying himself with one arm. He looked up at the wall seeing the worst handwriting ever, words carved into the wall that were rusted, years having past. His eyes widened as he read the one repeated word. Tomaren.

He sat up, awed by the display. The word was everywhere, but it was written in an old, dead language, the old Saiyan written language. There was just no way. He knew. It had to be. Tomaren had been here, but no Arcosian knew the old form of the language. His father had taught him, but he had never taught his son. A smile formed on Celen's face as he leaned his forehead against the wall. He would never cease to be amazed with his son. He was a Saiyan at heart. This confirmed it even more. He would be okay.

So, this was his son's hideaway. That was good to know. That meant all of the energy bar rations were Saiyan strength. Cooler would not starve his top assassin. There were also bandages and antiseptics. Celen assumed that Tomaren must not have been in many direct fights, but sometimes it was inevitable. If he cleaned his injuries here, then no one would know him to be hurt. Oh, boy, did that mean he was proud. "My son," Celen spoke fondly. "I'll get back to you. I swear it."

For now, though, he was going to eat. He was starving. He'd worry about the chains later.

A/N: I hope you're as excited as I am for the future of this story :D