Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.

A/N: As you can see below, I have decided to break this story into parts. It doesn't change anything in any way; it just helps me to structure the story in my mind by doing this. I've gone back and added the title PART ONE: Walk in the Footsteps of Another to the top of Chapter One, and the beginning of this chapter signifies the start of Part Two. There will be a Part Three to this story as well.

I have written the time into the story (only by referece to other events), but just to give you a head start, this chapter begins about 10-11 days after the events in the last one (I have a hard enough time keeping track of the timeline in this fic myself, so I thought I'd better help the reders out).

PART TWO: You Will Bleed the Same, No Matter What You Are

Chapter Twenty One: The Sky is Falling

Goku stared out at the black view of space, his eyes travelling slowly over the distant stars. He still found it hard to comprehend that he had taken this journey before, as nothing more than a newborn baby.

He found it even harder to comprehend the fact that he had been sent to Earth- his beautiful, innocent home- to destroy everything there.

He hunched his shoulders in reflex at the thought; since finding out that he was indeed an alien, he had avoided thinking about it too much. Still, every now and then his mind would wander, going over past memories, looking at them from this new perspective. Suddenly he found it so much easier to perceive the differences between himself and everyone else; his sense of smell, the strength, even his crazy hair that never grew.

Part of him was curious about Vegetasei- after all, it was where he had begun his life. But he had met his brother, and had felt the evil in that man that had gone so deep it was imbedded in Raditz's very core. How could he look at people like that, and recognize them as his own?

He never liked to admit that he was scared, not even to himself. But his hands shook as he fumbled at the fabric around his belt, looking for the small hidden pocket Chi Chi had sewn inside.

He sighed briefly as he pulled out what he had been looking for, cradling the tiny object in the palm of his hand. The gold glistened in the fluorescent light of the ship, and Goku swallowed hard to dispel the lump in his throat.

He didn't usually wear his wedding ring. It got in the way while training, so he usually left it at home, or kept it safe in his pocket if he was travelling further away than usual. But now he missed his wife dearly, and longed for her touch. She knew who he was; she could hold him close, and whisper to him, and he would know he was Son Goku, an Earthling, and a good man.

He slipped the band over his finger, fitting it snugly into place on his left hand. He would wear it now, and would not take it off for the Saiyans, when it came time to face them in two weeks. Until then, he just had to remember to punch Krillin with the right arm while training.

Goku sighed again, splaying his hands against the glass. The gold of his ring burned brighter than any of the stars glinting behind the window, and he took comfort from the sight.

He was Saiyan by blood, but his heart belonged to a Human.

"Something is wrong with you, and it isn't just nightmares," Pae spoke, leaning heavily against the door, her arms folded across her chest. "Spit it out."

Bardock grunted, shaking his head so that his hair fluffed out even more than usual, and made a move to get past his mate. He was stopped short by an arm that shot out across his chest, and growled low in his throat.

"Move, woman. I'm not in the mood for games this morning."

"Neither am I," Pae replied, stepping forward so that their noses almost touched, and her eyes could look directly into his. "Now, I heard about your crazy rants, just before the planet was destroyed. People have been talking about it a lot, actually. They say you said you knew Frieza was going to blow up the planet. Explain."

Bardock merely looked away, trying once more to move past the tall woman. She shoved him hard in the chest, her fists balling, ready for a fight. "Tell me!" she yelled. "There's something wrong with you, and I ought to know what it is! I don't like being made a fool, Bardock. What the hell am I meant to say when someone comes up to me and asks what's up with my mate, and I don't have a fucking clue?"

"It's nothing!" he yelled, finally loosing his temper. "Meddling woman, why can't you just leave me alone! I just want my breakfast!"

"It's not nothing! Every night his week you've woken up in a sweat- you think I don't notice? Tell me what the hell is going on with you!"

"Argh, fine!" he bellowed, sitting back down on the bed. "Fine, you nosy woman! Just sit down and shut up, and let me get my food! Then I'll tell you!"

Pae snarled, slamming an arm into the wall behind her in anger, her tail bristled and waving with fury. "Don't you call me names, Bardock," she spat out, before storming down the short hall. "Hurry up with it then!" she added, "I don't have all fucking day!"

Snorting, he rolled his eyes, briefly wondering how the hell he ended up with such a maniac. The thought led onto further things, making him smirk at the memories. Right, that's how. Shaking his head, he followed down the hall, hoping she wouldn't think him too crazy.

"So let me get this straight," Pae spoke, leaning forward across the small table, her dark eyes staring intently into hers. "You think you're psychic."

"Yes."

"I see," she murmured, leaning back in her chair. The corner of her mouth twitched, and he could see that she was biting her cheeks.

"Pae," he began with a sigh, but it was too late. She doubled over suddenly, barking with laughter, occasionally gasping for breath before the next wave of humour caught her. Bardock remained frowning, his arms folded tightly in front of his chest. "Pae!" he yelled, "It's not funny, all right!"

"Oh, oh…" she said, wiping tears from her eyes, shaking her head slowly. "Oh gods, I know… I know… but…" She broke into another fit of laughter, and Bardock stood up suddenly, slamming the chair hard against the table. It was all he could do to resist the urge to smash it over her head.

"You're a bitch," he told her tersely. "This is big fucking shit, you know. I saw our son."

That made her stop, although she still wheezed a little. Slowly she straightened up, pushing her huge mass of hair back behind her shoulders. She hadn't had a chance to tie it up, yet, and Bardock was suddenly struck by one of those moments, when he looked at her and found himself paralysed by her brash beauty, all muscle and harsh lines. There really wasn't another woman who could compare.

His expression must have worried her, because she was beside him in an instant, her tail wrapping firmly around his. "I believe you," she whispered, "I really do. The story made me laugh, that's all. I can't believe you let your guard down so much… To allow yourself to get hit in the head by such a weak creatu…"

"Yeah yeah," he interrupted, pulling her even tighter against him. "I keep seeing new stuff, Pae. I don't understand it… it's not with people I recognise."

"What do you mean? Eastern Saiyans? Are they in your head?"

Bardock snorted. "You make it sound as if I really am crazy, Eastern Saiyans in my head," he muttered. "No, not Saiyans. People without tails, with different coloured hair and eyes. I only see flashes her and there, but there's blood and fire, and death."

"So?" Pae asked, feeling relieved. "They aren't Saiyans, so who cares. Pease don't tell me you've become so soft you actually care about other creatures now."

"Don't be a fool," he snarled in reply. "No... No. But I saw..." he sighed, shaking is head. "I think it might be the Earthlings, they looked similar to the woman who came here."

Pae uttered a low snarl of her own. "Her people can burn," she growled.

"And Kakarot? And his young boy? I saw the kid, Pae; I'm sure it's him. He's small, with freakish looking hair, but he had a tail, and his face... his face looked like mine," he finished quietly. His eyes had been trained on the floor, now they looked up, dark and intense, into Pae's own. "You don't know what its like, to see something, and know its going to happen, and still have no way of stopping it. And to see a kid who has my face, and see him there…" He swallowed hard.

"I wish I didn't know."

"Darling," Mrs. Briefs called, making her way carefully down the stairs into the basement laboratory, a huge gray room with a roof that reached four stories high. Reaching the bottom of the staircase, the blonde woman sighed in relief. She was dressed in her robe and slippers, the flimsy footwear making it even harder to navigate the narrow steps that led down into her husband's lair.

"Darling!" she called louder, stepping over power cables as she rounded the side of one spaceship, only to come face to face with another of the huge spheres. She smiled as she located her husband- or the rear end of him, at least- protruding out of a cavity made in the bowels of the ship.

"Really dear," she said, moving up behind him, "it's past midnight already, you should come to bed!"

"Hmm?" her husband's voice echoed from within the ship cavity, "oh yes, I suppose so," he mumbled, "I'll just finish this first and…"

Not waiting to hear her husband's response, Mrs Briefs grasped onto her husband's backside in a way that was sure to gain his full attention. His voice trailed off, and she giggled, happy that all the workers had left hours before.

"Really dear," she said again, giving her husband another playful squeeze. "You should come to bed."

"Hmm," he replied, removing his head from the ship. "I think I might just do that."

Gohan shivered and ducked his head under the covers, not daring to look out. He felt cold, even though his hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat; the product of another bad dream. He had been having a lot of bad dreams, lately.

Risking a peek out of the shelter of his bed, he bit his lip, whimpering. Daddy had told him to take care of his Mom, but in the long hours of the night, he wished someone was there to take care of him! He was only a kid, after all, and in the dark he was sure he could see monsters lurking in the corners of his room, even when he knew he was just being silly.

That's what Mr. Piccolo had said, when he told him about the nightmares. Piccolo had said that if there were really monsters, he would have been able to sense them. No sign of ki meant nothing was there.

Still, Gohan didn't like being alone in his big empty room. He tiptoed out, trying not to crash into things, and crawled into his parent's bed instead. His Mom was half awake; she pulled him close and kissed his head, and he snuggled into her soft chest. He liked getting into Mom and Dad's bed, it always smelt like them; a mix between his dad's spicy smell and his mom's homely scent.

This time he could smell chocolate cake on her, and it made his mouth water. She had baked it for Grandpa- he was visiting tomorrow- and had put it away in the high shelf, telling him that he couldn't touch it until Grandpa had some. Mom knew that he could fly to reach the high shelf if he wanted to- he could have easily eaten that whole cake himself, he ate a lot, like his dad- but neither of them had said anything. Just like any normal home, the high shelf was for all the things that said 'keep out of reach of children'.

"What is it then, baby?" Mom whispered, smoothing back the hair from his face. She had cut it herself, plonking a bowl on his head before trimming around the rim, and he hated the new look. But it made her happy, and she thought she had done a good job, so he didn't say anything to her face, even after Dad had laughed at him.

"I had a bad dream," he whispered, already feeling much better now that her arms were wrapped tight around him.

"No matter," Mom whispered. "I'll tell you a story, and then we'll both sleep, okay? How about the one with Chicken Little?" She waited for him to nod, and he could feel her smile where her lips pressed against his hair. "Well, Chicken Little was a very silly chicken, and one day she thought that the sky was falling…"

Gohan felt sleep encompass him; his mother's voice seemed to drift far away, and all his limbs became heavy. There was still something important though, that bothered him restlessly him in the back of his mind.

If Mr. Piccolo knew the nightmares were nothing, why had he seemed so worried?

Bulma sighed in utter bliss, breathing deeply as the delicious scent of Saiyan tea wafted up from the mug in her hands, the steam settling in a damp cloud around her face. A Saiyan would eat anything, a fact which on more than one occasion had made her feel rather sick, but they did have a love for fine beverages. This tea was one of her favourites- the other being the special wine that Vegeta kept- and she waited impatiently for the drink to cool enough for it not to burn.

In the meanwhile she distracted herself by watching the slow rise of the moon in the early Vegetasei night, the cold light of the lone shape making everything outside look different to it did in the day. The moon was slowly growing bigger, although she could not tell any difference from the beginning of the month. In less than a year, though, it would be full, and the Saiyans would all transform into oozaru. The thought sent a shiver down her spine; she still found it hard to believe that it was possible.

"You are such a noisy creature," spoke a voice, so close that breath tickled her ear, and she jumped, spilling the hot tea across herself, and sending the mug crashing to the floor.

"Shit!" she exclaimed loudly, sucking at her thumb where the liquid had scolded her. "Bloody hell, Vegeta! I know you're a master at sneaking around the place, but do you have to scare me every time? I've burnt myself now! And my clothes are ruined!" She paused to take a breath, giving him time to reply. He merely smirked and folded his arms, making her blood boil with rage. "Are you going to say anything, or just stand there like a big dummy?"

"If you would just pay more attention to your surroundings, woman, then..."

"I am not a Saiyan!" she screamed, wrenching her sodden shirt up over her head with such force that she heard the fabric rip. She didn't care whether it did or not anyway- the tea was made from red leaves, and stained. She already knew this for a fact, because it was the third time she had been caught unawares by Vegeta in the past ten days.

Vegeta's eyes fixed on her chest, murky with thought. She hissed, seeing him lick his lips in appreciation. Damned if I let him have his way this time, she thought bitterly.

"It's not my fault I don't have freakish hearing," she bit out, pushing past him, intent on leaving the kitchen unmolested. His tail wrapped around her waist, though, soft and warm against the bare skin of her stomach, and she cursed her damn body for reacting as it always did. Her heart was still racing from the shock he had given her, but her stomach fluttered with nerves of anticipation, a sudden need blooming lower in her, just as her lungs felt suddenly tight in her chest.

Deft hands plucked at the straps of her bra, each one gave way with a small snap, and Vegeta pressed suddenly against her bare back, his arms looping slowly around her, smoothing, cupping...

"The universe is a dangerous place, Bulma," he spoke quietly, his tail pulling her backside harder against him. "You are not on Earth."

She leaned her head back against his shoulder, arching her back in pleasure. "Are trying to tell me to be careful in your cryptic Saiyan ways? You're worried about me?"

He grunted, lips brushing her neck. "You're too fragile," he whispered, his voice sounding almost close to despair, and she felt suddenly as if her chest would burst with feeling. She turned in his arms, digging her hands into his hair. Holding back, she met his gaze, feeling the pull between them, urging her to close that small gap between their bodies.

Leaning forward, she bit his bottom lip, quick and hard, smirking as surprise flitted across his face.

"You know, I'm stronger than you think."

Bulma stared up at the high ceiling, her chest still rising repeatedly in an exaggerated fashion as her body attempted to absorb as much oxygen as possible. It had, after all, been a rather strenuous ride.

It was the same every time; the touch of his skin upon hers, or his lips brushing gently across her mouth, was always enough for her to forget the rest of the world. Emboldened by such actions, she forgot that she was naked; she didn't think about what they were doing, she didn't care that all she wanted in those moments was to have her desires fulfilled at any cost. Best of all, he was always in the same state as her. She knew her touch roused him like no other ever had; she could see the hunger in his eyes, hear it in the pleading whispers of his voice- the meaning of such sentences still clear to her despite the fact that he spoke in foreign tongues. I want you now, his entire being seemed to say. Now and forever, and I shall never let you go.

But afterwards they would lie apart, and that connection between them would fade away as the air dried the sweat from their skin. And she would suddenly feel shy and exposed, as if they lay within some bubble that would burst at any moment, letting all the horrors of the world flood back in.

Vegeta's sigh brought her out of her reverie, and she blushed, noticing his dark eyes lingering on her. His gaze flicked suddenly to her face, studying her with the reserved air that reminded her of the way in which critics eyed works of art. What would he see in her, she wondered briefly. Would he see beauty, or something not worth his time?

He didn't move as she slid over in the bed and used his outstretched arm for a pillow, picking his tail up gently in her hands so as not to crush it underneath her own weight. For once it hung limp in her grasp, the muscles jelly-like beneath the dark fur, all the energy gone out of it. With a tentative smile she laid it softly against her chest, her fingers stroking softly across the tip. The fur was slightly damp with sweat, beneath this she could still feel the skin blazing with heat. What is it like, she wondered, to have such a thick covering? It must make him so hot!

As with everything she encountered, the need to experiment, even in these circumstances, itched on the tips of her fingers. She settled for pursing her lips to blow air softly at the fur, a grin breaking out on her face as she watched the hair rise automatically, fluffing up until the tail looked almost twice its usual girth.

"Sorry," she blushed, catching Vegeta staring at her, one eyebrow raised in faint amusement. She glanced away, her hands stilling on the tail. "It's a very interesting... thing," she finished lamely, still avoiding his gaze. She sighed, feeling the awkwardness settle around them again like a fog of cloud. She was suddenly acutely aware of her nakedness, and resisted the urge to cover herself up. Its still early, she told herself, we'll get more comfortable in time. Quickly, she beat back all thoughts of Yamcha, not wanting to think of him now while she was in the arms of someone else. It had been awkward with him at first too, but over the months and years…

"You think of it as something separate to me," Vegeta spoke, nodding towards his tail which was slowly coming back to life, curling slowly around her breast like a snake. "But it is just as much part of my body as is my arm or leg. Foolish Human woman, you do not understand Saiyans at all, do you?"

She laughed, shaking her head is dismay. "No, no I don't. I don't think I'll ever understand you arrogant aliens. You're all crazy."

He grunted, frowning slightly as he rolled onto his side, his eyes trained on her midsection as if he expected something to jump out at him from within her stomach. "Are you sure it will work?" he asked, running one hand slowly over the swell of her hip as he continued to eye her body with caution.

"Of course," she replied, laughter in her voice. "Honestly Vegeta, I can't get pregnant with an intrauterine device in place. There's nothing to worry about."

"Hnn," he replied, rolling onto her with a sigh. "You better not. The last thing I need to worry about is a fucking brat running around the place. I can't believe my father is so stupid."

"Hey, it takes two to tango," she mumbled, running her hands down his back and nibbling playfully at his ear. "You can guarantee that your mother had some part in the proceedings too, you know."

Vegeta grunted, opening his mouth to make some sort of rebuking comment, but was interrupted by his scouter, bleeping frantically on the small desk beside the bed. He groaned, lifting a hand to blast the thing, but paused, turning his head to listen.

"What is it?"

"Shh," he hissed, moving quickly off of her. She sat up, grasping the bed sheet to her chest as she watched him stalk across the room, pressing himself flat against the wall near the door, his muscles tense and ready for an attack.

"Vegeta!" came the yell of a deep male voice, making Bulma jump.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Nappa!" Vegeta bellowed, snatching up a damp towel he had previously discarded and wrapping it around himself, before wrenching the bedroom door open. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

Bulma moved swiftly up from the bed, clutching the dark sheet to her with one hand as she scrambled for her clothes with the other. Quickly checking to see that she wasn't within Nappa's sights, she dropped the sheet, yanking on her panties and bra with single-minded determination.

Vegeta had moved down the hall; she could hear his voice arguing with Nappa, although she couldn't make out what they were saying. By the time he came storming back to the room she had her shirt on, and was fumbling with the fly on her jeans.

"What is it?" she asked, watching worriedly as Vegeta pulled on his spandex suit and armour in a blur, dressing much faster than he usually did. The line between his brows was deeply furrowed now, his expression somehow inward looking, as if his mind was in a place far away from the present.

Bulma swallowed deeply, nerves fluttering in her stomach. She was all too familiar with that look; it was the look any fighter got, before getting into the ring with a strong opponent. Goku had worn that look the day he fought Piccolo at the twenty-third World Martial Arts Tournament, and had almost died that day.

Finding her hair tie amongst the heap of blankets and cushions on the bed, she tied her hair swiftly, following after Vegeta as he stormed down the hall. "What is going on?" she demanded, her voice rising as she began to feel panicked.

"A ship is heading straight for us," Nappa replied, opening the main door. "You must stay where you are."

"No!" she yelled, grabbing onto Vegeta's arm as he moved to leave. "You might need me yet- I can always hack into the ship's system, if they get close enough. Take me with you."

Vegeta's eyes passed quickly over her in brief assessment. "Fine," he spoke quietly, attaching his scouter over his left ear. "Keep up, woman."

As it was, she almost had to jog to keep up with the men as they stormed down the halls, their strides lengthening to eat up the distance in a shorter amount of time.

"Do you think it's Frieza?" she asked Nappa, feeling more than a little breathless as she did so.

"I hope not," Nappa replied tersely.

Tienshinhan pursed his lips into a thin line, the crease between his brows deepening as he closed two of his eyes. His third eye, situated in the middle of his forehead, glanced quickly upward.

Damn. This can't be good.

He didn't like to admit it, but Piccolo gave him the creeps. It confused him to no end that Goku now allowed his son to be trained by the green demon- it was Piccolo and his father, the late King Piccolo, that had always been their greatest enemy. King Piccolo had even killed Chiaotzu before!

Now the demon spawn was hovering directly above, the monster's white cape whipping in the wind. Tien didn't know what to be more nervous about; Piccolo's presence, or the strange disturbances he had been sensing all day.

"Tien," Chiaotzu spoke worriedly, hovering closer to his leg. Glancing down at his friend's small form, Tien sighed, closing all three eyes in a desperate attempt to pause the world, just for one second.

"I know, Chiaotzu," he said quietly. "I feel it too."

There was no denying it. Something or someone was coming closer, coming from out there. Something with energy darker than they had ever felt before.

"It makes Piccolo look like a puppy," Tien muttered unhappily as the green man finally descended from the air. "I wish Goku were here."

"No, no, look," Bulma stressed, pointing to the huge screen in the ministerial conference room. An impromptu meeting had been called, and ministers, as well as the top elite forces and the black-clad authorities had all crowded into the room to discuss a plan of attack. Preliminary data had shown that the ship was about two hours away from landing, so long as it kept up its usual pace, and Bulma could feel the tension that ran through the Saiyans, like a constant thrumming in the air. They were itching for a fight, she could tell, and she was consciously aware of the need to remain calm around them.

However, trying not to raise her voice at in a room full of stubborn, arrogant aliens was far easier said than done.

She took a deep breath, trying to avoid looking directly at the King, whose stare was making her feel more than a little nervous. When she had entered the room, following on Vegeta's heels, most of the ministers had already been present, as had the King. Vegeta had told her to ignore formalities, and she had moved straight to the computer at the end of the room, where the big screen faced the semi-circle table of ministers and the King at its head. As she had passed the Saiyans she had heard them snort, seen their nostrils all flare as if they were predators sniffing game, and had flushed with embarrassment, realising what it was that they had smelt.

Vegeta had caught her eye momentarily, then glanced away, the faintest tinge of pink showing on his cheeks. If the Saiyans ever needed evidence that she was Vegeta's woman, they now had it; they had all obviously picked up the scents created during her earlier encounter with their Prince.

"The screen is blank," she continued, pointing at the computer with passion. "There is nothing there. If the ship had communication equipment, this would pick it up, even if they were choosing to block our signals and vice versa. But it's empty; that ship has no means of communication, whatsoever."

"But that's impossible, every ship is made with communication systems," an elite drawled from the back of the room, crammed full of bodies. "I think your scan lies."

"Really?" she asked sarcastically, hands moving automatically to her hips. "Because I'm pretty sure that you can actually make a ship without that component if you want to, it's not like it's a vital part of the engine- right, Kaiware?"

"The Earthling is right," Kaiware replied, staring at the group of elites that stood in the corner near the door. "I advise that you listen to her."

"Without communication, how the hell did you pull this up, then?" asked Zorn, leaning forward on the desk. He gestured to the screen, which displayed the basic data of the ship. Unfortunately for them, the data held was minimal, obviously the ship was new.

"Well, I was looking at the models you have here, and realised that all ships seemed to have a small transmitter present for identifying ships in emergency situations like this, when communication is down. Obviously it was just a guess to try it out on this one, do you know if this is some sort of standard technology that is always used?"

When none answered, she sighed, staring at the screen. "The good news is that because they don't have a communicator connected to the ship, I doubt they're talking to anyone right now. The bad news is that if they had scouters, well... if they're bad guys, their boss will probably already know where we are," she concluded, cocking her head to the side.

"But they could be friends," she added, turning back to face the Saiyans, butterflies filling her stomach as she thought of who it could be. "If you want to wait and see, let them land first, before you shoot."

Karo yawned, rubbing her eyes as she made her way slowly back from the palace library. Turning the corner, she came to a stop, gaping at the large crowd of elites gathered in front of her, all milling about in front of the conference room.

Pushing her weight onto the tips of her toes, she craned her neck, just managing to spot a glimpse her father's ruddy-brown hair in the crowd. Looking around, she sighed with a shrug, and decided to try and reach him. She usually hung back from crowds and kept to herself, but she was curious, and wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing what was going on, anyway.

"Father!" she called, flinging up a hand desperately as she found herself suddenly crushed between the backsides of two large males. "Arrghmhp!" she yelped, as one of the men took a step back, crushing her even more.

Something suddenly tugged on her arm, hauling her out of the crush of bodies in a dizzying rush, setting her down on her feet. She looked up and gasped in shock, taking an automatic step back as she came face to face with a man that looked like her father, but clearly wasn't, from the darker colour of his hair, the lack of a beard, and the fact that he stood a more than a head shorter than the King.

She stumbled over her own feet, but his hands clamped hard on her arms, steadying her to keep her from falling. Not letting go, he raised one eyebrow, as his dark eyes examined her from head to toe.

She blushed, feeling the blood rise to her cheeks, and winced. She looked terrible when she blushed; unlike full blooded Saiyans, her blood was a dark purple, and blushing caused her cheeks to turn blue. Turning her head, she tried to squirm her way out of his grasp, but he wouldn't let go.

"Stay still, girl," the man spoke gruffly. "Look at me."

Feeling more than a little embarrassed, she complied, daring to gaze back into the coal-black eyes of her brother. She felt rather odd in doing so; before the planet had been destroyed, she had met him only a handful of times, and spoken to him even less. Now the little boy in her memories had suddenly become this man twice her age, a serious expression always present on her face. She hadn't meant to run into him; the truth was that she had been avoiding him completely, having heard the talk of him that made him sound terrifying.

"Are you afraid on me?" he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching with what she guessed was amusement.

"N… No," she stuttered, swallowing with an audible gulp. "Of course not. You're my brother; to be afraid of my own kin would be ab… absurd."

She wished suddenly that she could hide under a rock at the next look he gave her, his expression indecipherable to her, but clearly dangerous. The lines between his brows deepened as he seemed to stare even further into her eyes. "I wouldn't trust all of your kin, if I were you," he said abruptly, before changing the subject with the question "What are you doing here?"

She frowned herself, wondering what he meant about not trusting family, but opened her mouth to answer him anyway. Before she could though, she was interrupted by another hand on her arm, and looked up in relief to see her father's towering form.

"Father!" she greeted him happily, smiling. "What's going on?"

Her father grunted in reply, frowning at her in the same way her brother had just done. "You shouldn't be here," he growled. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I just want to know what's wrong," she appealed, looking up at his face. "Are we under attack?"

"I don't know," he replied, and she bit her lip.

"Be careful then," she spoke quietly, touching him gently on the arm. He grunted again, lifting his head and motioning to someone behind her.

"Take her back to her rooms," he ordered a female guard, "and stand guard there. Keep your scouter on."

Tugged back out of the crowd by the taller woman, Karo twisted to look back at the only family she had left; father and sons' eyes both meeting her golden gaze.

"Watch what you say to Karo, boy," King Vegeta spoke to his son, now that they were in the privacy of his office. There was still an hour to go before the ship landed; the elites had all moved to the mess hall in order to grab a last minute meal, but he had chosen to eat in solitude, save for the boy's presence. There were things they needed to discuss.

They had hardly spoken since the Prince had made his threat over the alien woman clear, but neither mentioned that incident now. The King knew his son well enough to know he was in no present danger- now that the Prince had made his position clear, nothing else would occur over the matter. Damn that whore for this blow to my pride.

"What?" his son now replied, leaning against the far wall, a half-eaten loaf of bread in his hands. He took another bite, chewing slowly before asking "Doesn't she know she's related to Zarbon?"

"She doesn't know he exists" the King answered in a growl, "and it better stay that way. The last thing I need is her getting all sentimental about that reptilian bastard; its better to think she's the only one left of her kind."

"She is the only one of her kind," his son retorted, before stuffing his mouth with a number of meat patties. Speaking ability suddenly obstructed, the younger Vegeta grunted, waiting to gulp down his half-chewed food before finishing his sentence. "She's the only half-breed like that that's ever existed."

"Mphm," the King grunted in reply, focusing on his plate.

"She's attractive enough. Any man with a taste for the exotic would want her. More than half the elite males were looking at her tonight with lust in their eyes."

"I know," the King replied tersely. "Stupid girl doesn't see it herself."

"Well of course she doesn't; she's too aware of her deformities to think of her sexual appeal. You'd better find her a mate soon before it begins to cause too much trouble," Vegeta added between mouthfuls of cake. "I'm sure some idiot from the upper class would want a child off her, if only to sire a kid with those eyes."

"She's infertile," the King muttered grimly, leaning back in his chair. "She can't mother children; she's got an uneven number of chromosomes." His son merely stared at him for a moment, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I didn't realise," he mumbled faintly, before biting into another loaf. "Does she know?"

"No."

"Well you better tell her."

"I know!" the King bellowed, his fist banging down on his desk. "Gods Vegeta, I know that, but this isn't what I brought you here to discuss."

"What, then?"

The King sighed, rubbing his temple as if it pained him. "I've made provisions, should Frieza suddenly arrive here. The Saiyan race cannot be compromised like it was last time. If I die, you need to know all the arrangements I've made to keep our people alive."

"You're acting rather melodramatic, don't you think? The ship is not nearly big enough to be Frieza's, and the floor plan the woman pulled up showed that it was definitely not one his troops employ. Its probably just some looser aliens who have no idea what they're getting themselves into by landing here," Vegeta added with a predatory grin.

"You will be King one day, son, whether you or I or anyone else likes it. I want to know that I didn't leave my heir with a kingdom as fucked up as the one I inherited. Sit down and listen."

The suns had long since set as they gathered in a group in the palace gardens, all eyes trained on the sky. Bulma stood in the back, beside Kaiware, who, despite being pregnant and therefore unable to fight without risking the child, had refused to stay inside. Vegeta stood beside his father at the front, a line of guards surrounding their backs.

She shivered, once again cursing Saiyans and their near-perfect anatomy. While she stood shivering against the cold, her hair still damp, the Saiyans radiated heat, seemingly impervious to the cold. And if it wasn't for their damn noses, with a sense of smell far stronger than her own, she wouldn't have had to have rushed for the showers straight after the meeting. Although she didn't object to freshening up, she didn't like the glances she was now getting. It felt like the fact that she was sleeping with Vegeta was the elephant in the room- which it shouldn't have been, since most of the Saiyans present had referred to her as 'The Prince's Whore' from day one. Snorting briefly, she glared at the backs of the massive Saiyans standing in front of her, their forms nothing more than black shapes as they stood still in the dark.

"Can you see?" she whispered to Kaiware, leaning close to the shape of the small Saiyan woman. The moon was now hidden behind heavy clouds; although a halo of light could be seen in the sky, it did nothing for the objects on the ground.

"What do you mean?" Kaiware replied, not bothering to whisper. "Of course I can. Can't you?"

"Well obviously not; it's dark!" Bulma replied, causing some of the elites to shift restlessly. She saw the black forms moving, and thought they were looking at her, although she couldn't tell. "Don't tell me Saiyans have night vision too," she muttered grimly, turning back to what she thought was Kaiware's face.

Kaiware chuckled lightly, and Bulma jerked suddenly with a small "eep" as something brushed her arm. "Don't" she hissed, hearing Kaiware laugh louder. "That isn't funny! I can hardly see at all out here, you're just a back blob!"

"That's not very practical," Kaiware replied, humour still evident in her voice. "I'm surprised you Humans have lasted so long on your own planet while lacking such basic abilities. So you can't distinguish any of the trees over there, nor the terrain?"

"No," Bulma replied lowly, "We use torches," she added. "You know, light."

"Not as effective as being able to see past dark, though, is it?"

"Well it's not my fault," Bulma replied with a huff. "Just great. Another damn thing to make me feel lower down on the food chain compared to you guys."

This time another voice chuckled, a deep rumble that seemed to warm the air with humour. Bulma recognised the sound as Nappa and turned, managing to spot his hulking shape, a head higher than anyone else. "Lucky you don't look too tasty then, eh?" he said, chuckling again. "Not enough meat on you to feed a cub, let alone a full grown…"

"Nappa!" Vegeta's voice snapped in the dark, slicing dangerously through the air. "Silence."

The restlessness that moved throughout the group stopped after that, a sense of seriousness descending upon the group of warriors, as their faces all looked to the sky. She had predicted the path of the ship; it was expected to land near the palace. Evidently whoever was driving the thing knew something about the planet- which had set the Saiyans even more on edge. The only other option was that the people in the ship were simply aiming for the palace by coincidence- something she wouldn't put past Son Goku, who throughout his life had fallen into a number of ridiculous situations through no fault of his own- but she didn't voice that thought.

It's probably not him, she thought, and firmly shut a mental door on all thoughts that it could be her friends. It was better, she realised, to avoid disappointment if she could.

Straining to see things in the dark, Bulma was pleased when the scouters worn by the others began to beep, signalling the imminent arrival of something. The tension humming in the air had begun to get to her, and to have this finally broken, even if it meant they were to face Death incarnate, was better than waiting around in the dark.

"It's coming," Kaiware spoke softly, and Bulma watched as the smaller woman craned her neck towards the heavens. Feeling more than a little nervous, Bulma clutched onto Kaiware's arm, not caring if this contact broke the rules of social conduct Saiyans usually adhered to.

"Afraid?" Kaiware asked her quietly. Remembering that the woman could probably see her clearly, Bulma merely nodded in reply, before turning her head back towards the sky.

She realised suddenly that what she had mistaken for the hum of tension in the air was actually the sound of the approaching ship. Slowly the noise grew louder, and a red glow suddenly seemed to appear behind the clouds. It grew brighter, parting the clouds, lighting them up quickly as a backdrop, the ship still hurtling towards the crowd below.

"It's not going to hit us, is it?" she asked, a rising panic within her rendering her voice an octave higher than usual.

"No, Bulma," Vegeta's voice, calm, deep and familiar, carried over the crowd. "It will land in the desert."

And then it did, shaking the world beneath their feet.

"Three hours until arrival on Planet Earth," the computer's female voice spoke monotonously in the dull red glow of the pod. Jeice grunted, biting off some freeze-dried food before replying to the small blinking screen overhead. "Awright babe," he told the ship computer, still chewing on his food. Swallowing down the last morsel, he yawned, rubbing the accumulated sleep from twenty days in stasis out of his eyes.

"Computer, connect me to the Captain, will you?" he asked, running a hand through his thick mane of white locks.

"Communication with Captain Ginyu will commence in three… two… one…"

Piccolo grimaced as he landed outside the kid's home. He hated dealing with Son Goku's wife; the woman screeched like a banshee every time the child left the house to train. He understood the woman's dislike for him, after all, he had tried to murder Son Goku at the twenty-third Martial Arts Tournament- the day Son Goku married the wench. He did not spend much time around Humans, but he had observed that women were particularly sensitive when it came to their wedding ceremonies.

Today, unfortunately, confrontation with the woman was unavoidable. Something dangerous- more dangerous than the Saiyans- was heading towards Earth, and he needed the kid's strength. It was just their luck that the kid's damn father was off in space.

As much as I hate to admit it, we could really use Goku's help right now.

He frowned as he watched the woman, I can never remember her name, catch sight of him through the glass pane of a window. She scowled at him before scuttling away, her footsteps easily picked up by his ears as she moved through the house to the door.

"Go away," she told him, whispering furiously as she stepped outside. "Gohan is studying! He's already spent an entire year with you; its time he stayed at home here with me! He's my son! You have no claim over him!"

"He's my pupil," Piccolo rumbled in reply, not bothering to lower the sound of his voice. It was better if the boy heard him, anyway. "He has to come with me now, there is a dangerous being on the way; I've already arranged plans with your husband's friends."

"What? No! Gohan stays here! And what exactly do you mean by a dangerous being?"

"I mean a creature is coming that are likely to kill us all. Now move. Gohan!" he called. "Hurry! Wear your gi, there's going to be a fight today!"

"Is it... that feeling?" the little boy asked, emerging through is bedroom window in clothes matching his master's own uniform. "They feel evil."

"They?" Piccolo looked up, scowling at the sky in a vain attempt to see what it was that was coming. Closing his eyes, he let his senses stretch out, shaking his head in disbelief as he picked what Gohan had obviously already sense. "Damn it boy, you're right. There's more than one!"

"Ugh! Don't you use that filthy language around my baby!" Chi Chi cried, clutching her son to her fiercely. "Just go! He's not going anywhere with you, especially if it's going to be dangerous!"

Piccolo stared at her, assessing the possible ways to make her stay quiet. With a grunt, he settled for an observation that was sure to piss her off. "If you wanted weak offspring that ran crying to their mothers for every damn problem, you should have reproduced with a scholar. You married Son Goku; you should have known his kid would be a great fighter."

Stepping forward, he deftly plucked the child from her arms, flinging the boy over his shoulder before she could protest. He took to the sky in an instant, eager to leave the screams of the infuriating woman behind.

"Don't think too much into this," he warned Gohan, who looked pleased to be being carried by his master. "I'm only holding you because I fly faster. The great Piccolo does not do hugs."

Gohan nodded but remained silent, a huge grin stretching across his face.

Gohan was no longer grinning by the time they flew into a bustling city, meeting Tien and Chiaotzu on the rooftop of a high-rise building. He stuck close to Piccolo, resisting the urge to clutch onto his master's leg. Tien looked serious, his third eye constantly scanning the skies above even as his other two eyes trained on him, greeting Gohan briefly. Gohan nodded in reply, trying not to stare. Tien's eyes were strange enough to begin with; now, with the third one rolling around in meticulous watch of the heavens, they looked seriously creepy.

"It'll be soon," Piccolo spoke, and Gohan craned his neck so that he could see his master's face. "They're even stronger than the Saiyans that took Bulma. I hate to say it, but without Goku, I don't think we have much of a chance."

"If you die, the dragonballs will disappear, and then we'll never get Yamcha back. So stay alive, okay?" Tien replied, giving up his watch of the sky to stare straight at Piccolo. "You're our back up plan, got it?"

Piccolo snorted, his lips curling back in a snarl. "Don't think you can order me around. But don't worry; I'll be doing everything I can to survive."

"Tien!" Chiaotzu cried, and they all looked to the sky, collective gasps filling the air as the firs ships came glinting into view.

"They're the same as the Saiyan ships!" Gohan yelled, watching the dots growing menacingly bigger.

"Stay calm," Piccolo instructed him. "Do not panic, Gohan. You are well trained."

Gohan nodded, but felt himself trembling as he watched the ships- five of them- grow closer. The roar as they sliced through layers of atmosphere was terrifying enough, even before the screams of people on the streets below began. The piercing cries of women and children spread through the air, the deeper yells of men adding to the mix of noise rising in panic from the streets below.

"Maybe we should get back?" Tien asked, shifting nervously.

"No, stay," Piccolo commanded, his eyes on the nearest ship. "This will do."

The first flew overhead, close enough that Gohan felt the searing heat as the wave of trailing air hit them hard. The sound was deafening, and then the building beneath their feet shook as the ship made impact with the ground behind them. He didn't know where to look; the other ships were close behind, smashing into the city with a terrible noise, knocking down buildings as if they were made of paper. Tears began to blur his eyes, and he did grab onto Piccolo's leg then, holding on for dear life.

He remembered his Mom suddenly- I'm supposed to protect her!- and he longed to back with her, safe in her arms. Blinking the tears away, he thought he could understand Chicken Little being mistaken, if she ever saw something like this.

"Keep your ki lowered," Piccolo yelled above the noise. "We need every advantage we can get!"