Collide

by Vagus

Bulla/Goten; Bulla/Raditz. Three Saiyan hybrids comb galaxy in search of wares, but what are these whisperings of other Saiyans they keep hearing? Follow Bulla, Goten and Trunks as they find adventure, intrigue, unexpected adversaries and, of course, themselves. Later featuring Raditz, Turles, Pan, Nappa. WARNING: love triangles, great decisions and tom foolery within.

26. Shatter

Pre-notes:

~MCD: Thank you :') I'm in awe, honestly.

~Guest: That is wonderful feedback, I'm so glad you gave it a chance too. I appreciate you sharing your thoughts on the characterisations dialogue and hope it continues to entertain. Thank you very much for the kind review.

Hello! I'm still here, still writing. This one took a bit longer, buuut. You'll see why.

If my mapping is correct (hint, it's never been correct) we don't have very long to go until our adventure ends. I've got two more planned after this and then it's over :( ish.

As always, a sincere thank you for your support and encouragement thus far. It makes such a difference.

You may want to grab a snack and blanket for this one. Get cozy, it's a biggun'.

---

As she stood with her back against the sandstone, arms folded and lids lowered, Pan let out a steady exhale. The constant breeze sent loose grains of sand tapping at her borrowed chest plate, but it was a welcome wind. They were so exposed out here in the arid canyon, her fringe was permanently plastered to her forehead.

She slid her index finger into her collar, rolling it along the spandex to allow some of the cool air to lick at damp skin.

How has Bulla handled wearing this catsuit all this time? she sighed. Wouldn't even take my spare CC gear when I offered it to her before. Weirdo. Thoughts of the heiress sent her mind wandering to the previous few days' observations, along with Bulla's distracted mood from the moment she'd landed. Definitely to do with a guy, Pan decided.

Hmm.

The broody one, she considered, trying to recall his name. Turles? She'd seen the way Bulla blushed when he leaned in close that night at the tavern - the two huddled in their dark corner, voices hushed - or how he practically dragged the heiress out of her seat a few minutes later. Most present had watched the two leave, not least of which Pan's newly discovered uncle. And that guy's definitely part of the drama, the quarterling filed, recalling the fleeting twitch in Raditz' eyes while Turles held his hand to Bulla's back and drove her through the doors. Though I wouldn't peg him as her usual type, she mused. Way too serious.

Perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing, considering Bulla's track record. Maybe it's one-sided? If that was the case though, why was the heiress a distracted mess when she returned from their private meet-up?

Large deep-brown eyes flew open suddenly and the quarterling hit the button at her temple. "One kilometre South. Around twenty, possibly more. Heading west," she relayed. "More coming from the South-East." Ensuring her ki was masked, Pan hopped to another outcrop, keeping her back pressed and breathing even.

"Nice work, Cupcake," Cinna's voice came through the earpiece and Pan had to stifle a snort at the enduring nickname. For a mighty Saiyan in charge of her own fleet, the sole female Commander was unexpectedly impish. "Let's cut them off." Pan vaguely wondered if Trunks missed being in the limelight, since she had unashamedly stolen it the moment she'd invited herself aboard Cinna's ship.

Slipping her head around the corner, Pan narrowed her eyes. Dammit, I've lost them again. She held out her arm when she sensed some of her squadmates approaching. "Give it a second," she spoke out loud. "They should be here soon."

After a few minutes, she called, "Let's go!" shooting ahead with an eager grin.

The quarterling sent out a handful of energy balls, each one marking a target for her respective teammates, and heard the abrupt expulsion of air from her first opponent's lungs when she buried her knee in his stomach. This is only six of them, she realised with a needle of doubt. Where are the rest?

With an elbow to the head, he was knocked out cold and Pan was immediately onto the next one. They came all the way here to pick a fight with us, she reminded herself haughtily. I'm only giving them what they're asking for. In the corner of her eye, she caught her Commander's movement as Cinna soundlessly darted from ridge to ridge, a small dark blur dancing along deep orange rock.

Pushing forward, Pan and the others ran ahead, tasked with keeping the coast clear while Cinna sought a way into the heart of the operations. Where did they even come from? The quarterling surveyed the area, noting nothing but vast openness. Not even a single tree to hide a space pod behind, let alone the massive ship that would have been required to house hordes of invading minions. Well, whatever. They ain't got nothing on us anyway.

"We got some of them," Pan reported through her scouter. "But the rest must have split off before they reached us. They got lucky."

She heard static in her ear. "We'll find them," Cinna replied.

These outside soldiers were more successful at evading than she'd been expecting. Two hours and a handful of scuffles later, the Saiyans weren't any closer to finding the source. "They're literally showing up out of nowhere," Pan exhaled, wiping the back of her hand over her brow as her eyes glossed over the flat landscape. "And a few always manage to slip around us." She turned her head, spying the rest of Cinna's delegates while they milled around a few hundred metres back. There was a lull in activity, so the others were taking the opportunity to rehydrate and see to minor wounds while Pan and the Commander sought any sign of disturbance that suggested aircraft had been nearby.

She saw Cinna flinch as she slapped her hand to her neck and scrape the remnants of whatever insect she'd killed off her shoulder. "What the-?" The pure-blooded Saiyan was pinching something between her fingers, eyes narrowing while she assessed the speck.

"Whoa!" Pan stumbled backwards when someone appeared in front of her without any prior warning - tall and almost blindingly reflective. With dilated orbs, she watched in shock as sharp, talon-like claws reached for her Commander, covering her entire face with its shiny hand. "Hey!" The quarterling immediately launched while Cinna let out a muffled moan, swiping at the rigid body to no avail.

As Pan's punch closed in on its lustrous head, white flame enveloping her tightened fist, it disappeared as quickly as it came.

Nothing but empty space remained where Cinna had been drinking from her flask only moments earlier. "Cinna!" Pan screamed, swivelling left and right while she sought the older woman's ki. When she came up blank, her blood ran cold.

Stabbing at her scouter, she yelled, "Nappa! Nappa! Can you hear me?" The other end was dead. "Fuck!"

She tore back for the others, leaving a thick plume of dust in her wake while she held her forearm over her brow.

Grabbing the arm of the first person she reached, Pan exclaimed, "Is your scouter working?!"

"Uh. Ye-?"

"Get Nappa!" she demanded frantically. "Now!"

The confused Saiyan edged away slightly, tapping at her own scouter while Pan's heart raced. Her comrade reared then, pulling her scouter off her ear and rotating it in her hands sceptically. "It just died on me," she frowned. "Like, right now."

"Fuck!" Pan screeched again, her voice echoing off the walls of the surrounding canyon.

---

"They've been at it on and off for a while now," Trunks reported, attempting to watch the scene from the peak of a craggy cliff-side. Cinna's soldiers' energies were easy enough to follow, but they were too far away to track visually. The persistent breeze sent loose strands of lavender skating across his face, and he tucked a few behind his ear. "But it seems they're handling themselves well enough." Pan was only using a fraction of her strength during her fights, from what he could tell, and her energy appeared reassuringly steady. Cinna's too. Trunks looked to the man next to him. "What are you thinking?"

Nappa had his arms folded while his eyes remained fixed on the plateau below. "I think you're onto something," his deep voice rolled. "This is all too easy."

"I've put forward a few ideas already," Trunks replied, observing him carefully. "But obviously it's your call." He heard a rumble from the General's throat as the burly Saiyan considered his next move.

"Clearly this Sibe person knows the Saiyans' weaknesses," Trunks added, absently checking in on Bulla and Goten's energy signatures. Keep an eye on her, man. "Otherwise they wouldn't bother coming here with tech that skirts your best means of advantage." Nappa nodded in agreement. "But they're not exactly giving you guys a run for your money either with such mediocre fighters."

"He always said the Saiyans were the best soldiers he ever had," Nappa responded throatily. "These may be the strongest maggots he could round up to face us." A satisfied smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth as a single slim eyebrow raised. "Defeating him with a quarter of our military," he laughed, "Pathetic," and turned his back on the distant crew.

Trunks followed when Nappa descended the rocky hill, casting his gaze over the virgin landscape. You don't get views like this in West City, he acknowledged with a soft smile. The CC head had to admit he liked it out here. Crest was quiet. Tranquil. Private. It was the longest stretch he'd gone since teenagehood without obnoxious paparazzi clamouring for gossip or screaming fangirls throwing themselves at his feet. Who knew it was possible to fall asleep without having to speculate what headline he'd wake up to the next morning?

I wonder if Bulla feels the same. She'd always handled the media with the poise and indifference one would expect of a social queen bee, but the two had commiserated over cutthroat rumours more than once over the years - though not recently, he considered remorsefully; he'd barely seen her before the three left earth.

Trunks ran his fingers through his hair as he recalled their harrowing flight through the asteroid field, and how adamant she was that he needed to be the one to bring the trio to safety. She sells herself short. He exhaled through his nose, The girl's difficult, and pictured her brilliant, smiling face, teasing him as he attempted to relax along the single Odyssey sofa. But she's exceptional. Doesn't even realise it.

When did she grow up so fast?

He repressed a grumble at the reminder of Bulla's endless string of loser ex-boyfriends. I guess everyone else noticed before I did. Not a single brain cell amongst the lot of them. Why does she always shoot so low? He paused his own train of thought as his face scrunched. Or maybe not always…

More than once he'd caught the reticent Saiyan leader eyeing her a little too long. He reminded himself to let it go - male attention was hardly a rarity in Bulla's world and it would be poor form to go inserting himself into her personal affairs. But the tension between the two left him unsettled, especially considering the guy was a relative of Goten's. Hopefully I'm on the wrong track there.

He snapped his head suddenly, sensing frantic fluctuations in Pan's energy. Immediately, he engaged his scouter. "Pan, what's wrong?" His brows pulled together. There was no answer on the other side, but the crackling in his ear told him his scouter was still online, so he changed tactics. "Cinna?"

Nothing.

Trunks hopped down the rest of the massive boulder, reaching his de-facto leader. "Can you get hold of Cinna?" He grabbed the older Saiyan's shoulder. "I think something's just happened."

Nappa tapped at his own scouter. "Cinna," he spoke, standing firm while he waited for response. When no answer came through, he looked to the demi-Saiyan sceptically. "Caya," he tried again. This time Trunks heard someone on the other side. "Go find out what's happened to Cinna. We can't make contact." He paused. "Think she'll need back-up?" he directed at the hybrid.

"Do it," Trunks responded, itching to find the quarterling himself and ensure everything was okay. He understood, however, that he was needed as Nappa's eyes out here and couldn't simply abandon his post at the first sign of trouble for one of his fellow Earthlings. "We've got enough manpower to hold things down."

"Take the rest of your squad," Nappa ordered through the gadget. "Report back if you need extra hands."

Within a few minutes, Trunks spotted a dozen Saiyans flying overhead.

"It's probably just a malfunction," Nappa reassured, eyeing the lavender-haired demi-Saiyan carefully. "Happens from time to time. We picked up a new batch of scouters on our way to Crest so there may be a few duds amongst them."

"Right," Trunks murmured, keeping his gaze on the tiny dots as they neared the horizon.

---

"What do you mean she's gone?" Caya scoffed, eyeing the quarterling sceptically.

"I mean it exactly how it sounds!" Pan asserted, tensing her fists. "The two of us were walking along the plateau." She threw her arm out in the direction of their earlier scouring. "When this thing just appeared out of nowhere." Her heart was still racing as she relayed her version of events. "It grabbed her and disappeared all within a freaking second."

"And you can't sense her anywhere?" Caya continued to question, crossing her arms.

"No!"

"What did this thing look like?" The squad Captain cocked an eyebrow.

"Big!" Pan blurted, spreading her arms. "Tall. Taller than Nappa. Its hand was bigger than her goddamn head!" Her eyes widened as her ears drummed. "And it was made of steel or something."

"So it was some kind of cyborg?"

The more questions Nappa's Captain asked, the less convinced she sounded of Pan's tale, and the quarterling was growing increasingly impatient. "I know cyborgs," Pan answered, grinding her teeth together. "And this... whatever wasn't anything like them. It looked like an actual machine. With rods instead of bones and wires in its joints." She pressed her hand to her forehead and took a breath to regain some steadiness. "I could see through its skeleton and it didn't even have organs."

Caya nodded slowly, presumably stitching an image together in her head. "And you're the only one who saw it," she finally voiced. "No one else was with you?"

"Just us," Pan exhaled, frustrated that she hadn't acted faster. Done more.

"Show me where it happened."

The two women levitated above the parched earth and floated towards Cinna's last known whereabouts. "It was somewhere around here," Pan told her, casting a gaze over the surrounds while Caya dropped to her haunches and brushed her hand over scorched orange sand.

"What's this?" she muttered, pinching something off the ground and straightening to her full height.

Pan stepped up, curious, while both women squinted at the strange remains. "Could be the bug that bit her on the neck before she was taken," the quarterling offered.

"This is no bug," Caya mumbled, dropping the find in her open palm and rolling it around the centre. "We don't have anything that looks like this on Crest." After a few more seconds, she pressed her finger to her scouter. "General," she spoke.

Pan watched her in anticipation.

"General Nappa, can you hear me?" Caya tapped again. When no response came, she pulled the gadget off her ear and proceeded to whack it against the heel of her palm. "Stupid scouters," she grumbled.

A ripple snaked its way up Pan's spine. "They're back," she told the Captain, head swivelling to the rest of their group and prompting Caya to shift her attention. "They're almost halfway to Trunks' post," she noted in surprise. How did they get so far west without me noticing?

Both immediately shot towards the others, Pan desperate to sound the alarm before anyone was caught off guard

"On your feet!" Caya called out as she approached, engulfed in white heat and tearing past the quarterling. "Another wave comes. The scouters are unreliable," her voice boomed. "So ensure you stay within your squads." All eyes were on the Captain while she gave her orders. "And listen closely for instructions. When in doubt, follow the hybrid."

Taking her cue, Pan boosted ahead, keeping a close handle on her senses. Where are you, you sneaky bastards, she inhaled, eyes tracing the ground beneath. "Over here!" Pan fired a handful of energy balls but stayed on her path. Soon, a couple of Cinna's soldiers wordlessly dropped down while the rest remained aflight.

Where are the rest? She could feel Trunks' energy growing nearer, telling her they were rapidly encroaching on Nappa's domain, much to Pan's chagrin. I should have been able to keep them well away from the borderlands, she grumbled.

"More here." The quarterling sent out another series of shots. This is getting annoying, she silently moaned as a second pair of Saiyans dropped down. Just show your faces, you cowards. And stop dodging me.

Pan's unintentional prayers were answered, because she soon found herself staring into the cold, dead eyes of a foe who seemed to have no inclination to mask its presence.

Before she even had a chance to shout, It's here! The thing that took Cinna! Pan's mouth was clamped shut.

Frigid metal covered the lower half of her face as large hybrid eyes opened yet wider and her body careened backwards, slicing through the formation behind her.

Pan fought to orient herself, entirely overwhelmed by the speed she was currently travelling, and attempted to throw a disjointed kick, but the creature's arms were too long, keeping her at a distance that rendered physical attacks entirely useless.

Extending both palms, Pan released a hearty energy beam. Eat shit, sucker.

And that's exactly what it did.

Pan watched with rising horror as her blast disappeared into the chrome beast's chest and spread as a shimmery wave through the rest of its skeleton until it petered out at the limbs. She screamed into the rigid hand, frantically firing ball after ball to absolutely no avail.

"Identifying target."

The quarterling froze when soulless eyes scanned her over, heart pounding at her ribcage. The sensors in its eye sockets moved with speed and precision that only added to her earlier suspicions. There's no way this thing's organic, she panted.

"Target established."

Pan held her breath.

"Target disposable."

---

"Caya," Trunks spoke into his scouter, trying his damnedest to keep his nerves under control. The last thing he needed was clouded judgement but it was growing harder by the second. When she didn't reply, he squeezed his fist and cast his gaze eastward. He could sense her ki - she was okay - but Pan's energy was going wild.

She's not one to panic, he acknowledged with rising concern. I need to get out there and see what's going on with her.

Tapping at his scouter once more, Trunks let out an exhale. "Nappa."

"Yes?"

He heard the General's voice, steady and stern.

"I can't just sit here." Trunks clenched his jaw. "I'm almost sure Pan's in trouble."

After a few seconds of painstaking silence, Nappa responded. "You told me yourself she's more than capable," he voiced, stringent. "Now is not the time for human sentimentalities."

I know. Trunks let out a groan, muscles twitching. Dammit! His body agonisingly pulled two directions. Pan was distressed - no question. He knew first hand that she was a demon to fight, and that only rendered her currently frenzied state all the more disturbing.

Sorry, buddy. Trunks blasted from his rock and bee-lined for the younger hybrid, sailing through the air at breakneck speed. She wasn't far, and he knew he could reach her in no time if he acted fast.

When he found her, she was thrashing furiously, face red and eyes strained. What looked like thick steel cords were wrapped around her middle and squashing her arms to her sides. Like a bullet, he charged straight for the strange warrior that had her in his clutches.

Angling his entire body for its head, the sound of mashing metal hit Trunks' ears as he decapitated the strange fighter. What the-? Stiff arms stayed firmly in place while an open hand continued to smother the quarterling.

A single cord appeared from the beast's torso and swung around with unsettling swiftness, extending right for Trunks' own face. The halfling twisted just in time as the dagger-like end cut through the air next to him. Trunks grabbed the outstretched line and yanked, ripping it from its source with a static crackle. After dropping it to the ground below, a ball formed in the hybrid's open palm.

"Hmnks!'

Trunks spun around and saw Pan shaking her head, making deliberate actions with her legs.

"You want me to kick him?" he asked her.

"Mm! she nodded.

He did as she said, swatting away another steely fibre as he rammed his foot into its back. Despite the growing damage, it wasn't showing any sign of slowing down.

Trunks heard a scream as the quarterling squeezed her lids shut in agony. The cords around her arms were tightening. Why is she letting him do this?

"Fight back!" Trunks shouted, dropping his elbow into the creature's extended arm and ripping it out of the shoulder joint, finally freeing Pan's body from its firm hold.

With her own arms unleashed, Pan viciously grabbed the remaining metal limb while unyielding fingers remained at her cheeks. Trunks heard a crack when she popped the second arm out of its socket and threw it behind her, rage in her eyes.

The demi-Saiyan floated back as Pan finished the abomination off, laying into it with cold-hearted fury until every last silver chunk sank to the valley below.

"Why'd you struggle against that thing?" His voice sounded more chastising than he intended.

"Shut up," she bit back, throwing him a barbed look. "I didn't realise what I was up against at first. I know better now." After a few seconds, she murmured, "... Thanks."

Both turned their heads as each sensed yet more invaders travelling deeper to Nappa's holding.

"Shit," Trunks hissed, giving the quarterling one final look over to ensure she was okay before shooting off for his assigned post. "Nappa," he called, barking into his scouter. "They're coming for the borderlands."

He didn't get an answer.

"Did you hear me?" he cried. Goddammit! His scouter was dead.

"Trunks, wait!" Pan yelled as she chased after him, much to his surprise.

Reluctantly, he came to a stop despite the gnawing urge to get back to Nappa ASAP. I need to warn them. If Pan could get overwhelmed that easily, then the rest are sitting ducks.

"That… thing," Pan began once she reached him, clearly still jittery. "It completely absorbed my energy attacks." She was staring at him, agitated. "Don't waste yours if you come across another, alright? They come out of nowhere and don't have a signature," she continued, voice raw. After a few seconds, she added, "One of them took Cinna."

"Wait, what?" Trunks sputtered. He definitely hadn't been expecting that. "Took her where?"

"I don't know!" Pan asserted, throwing her arms out in frustration. "She's just gone!"

"Jesus." He ran both hands through his hair, clenching at the roots while he tipped his head back in vexation.

"What do we do?" she asked, brown eyes large and pleading.

Trunks let out a breath. It had been a long time since he'd seen the endlessly self-assured hybrid so disarmed and he couldn't help but bring a palm to her shoulder in reassurance. "Are your scouters working?" was his first question.

"No." She shook her head. "It was weird. They all went offline, but not at the same time." Pan frowned as she turned away in thought. "It was like a cascade."

Trunks filed that away for later, ensuring to stay focused on the issue at hand. "Alright." He squeezed the hand still resting on her shoulder. "Get back to the others and tell them to join up with the Nappa's teams. We can guide you from here."

Pan nodded as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

"It looks like these outsiders are heading inward," Trunks continued steadily. "Be sure to warn the others about those mechanical guys. They're strong. And fast. But brittle if you get the joints.

"Okay," she nodded.

He could sense her energy stabilising and felt his own nerves soothe. "Signal if you're in trouble," he finished softly. "I'll come find you."

He waited until she took off before returning his focus to his original directive.

By the time he reached the General, the rest of the squads were already in the midst of battle.

"What happened to sounding the horn?" Nappa chided, a fierce expression accompanying his accusing tone as he glared at the lavender-haired halfling. "You may as well have stayed tucked into whoever's bed you woke up in this morning."

Trunks winced at the jab. "Had to make a judgement call," he responded quietly. "But it wasn't wasted. I learned a few things that could end up being crucial."

"Well?" Nappa swivelled towards him, tearing his eyes off the brawl below and eyeing the hybrid doubtfully.

"Cinna's been captured," was where he started.

"What?!" Nappa erupted, uncrossing his arms. "By these worms? Impossible. Cinna would never succumb to one of their traps."

"It wasn't a foot soldier that got her," Trunks informed. "There are others to watch out for that are much stronger. They're visible to the naked eye but they're invulnerable to energy attacks and power-ups. Tell your soldiers not to take them on alone. They'll get overwhelmed way too easily."

"Preposterous," Nappa barked, glancing away with his familiar stubbornly scowl. "All it takes is a little battle-hardness and you'd be able to take on anyone."

"Just give the order," Trunks insisted, piercing eyes unwavering as he stared at the General.

Nappa grumbled as he brought a meaty finger to his scouter. "Listen up, kids," he began his transmission while Trunks scanned the area for any further activity. "It seems-"

The halfling looked up when the rest of the sentence didn't come, breath hitching when he spotted metal fingers speared through Nappa's chest plate like fork prongs plunged into soft butter.

The General let out a strained wheezed and Trunks' heart all but stopped.

"Identifying target." A mechanical voice sounded as the demi-Saiyan leapt for the burly General. "Target established." Trunks peeled Nappa off the razor-sharp hand, kicking the machine away in the process.

"Target required."

It reached a silvery arm towards the General, using its extendable cords just as Trunks had seen before.

Oh no you don't, the hybrid growled, catching the thick filaments before it wrapped itself around Nappa's limb. Thinking fast, Trunks realised the best way to get Nappa as far from this thing as possible was to do it him himself. Without any further hesitation, he did the unthinkable and planted a heavy kick into Nappa's chest, sending his de facto-leader soaring towards the forest below.

As he had with Pan's captor, Trunks brought a boot to the strange being's head before grabbing one arm and then the other, quickly dispatching each before he ended up crushed as Pan had been earlier.

That'll have to do, he decided, jetting for the trees to reach the giant Saiyan before he ended up breaking his fall on tree branches.

With less than a handful of metres to spare, Trunks caught the veteran fighter and eased the rest of his descent. "You alright?" he asked, eyes immediately falling to four formidable puncture wounds dotting down the right side of his chest, already seeping crimson. Not good.

"I've had worse," Nappa rasped, flinching as he arched his back and brought his left hand up to assess at the damage. Instantly, they were painted red.

Dammit. Trunks felt a pang as he gently laid the older Saiyan down on the cool mulch. "I should have been paying better attention," he breathed, frown deepening as he attempted to cover the gaping holes with his hands. "I knew these guys didn't give off an energy signature."

Don't die.

"Trunks," Nappa barely managed to squeeze out, evidently in a lot more pain than he was letting on.

"What?" Trunks looked up, scanning the General's expression desperately.

"Go."

Blue eyes widened.

Spinning on the ball of his foot, Trunks was immediately transfixed.

The beam of energy heading for them was wide as one of the ancient trees they were currently alongside. If he jumped right then, he'd have had enough time to dodge the blast and emerge unscathed, but he faltered when he realised that left a wounded Nappa to take the hit head-on and with no means of defending himself.

So Trunks stood firm, barely having the chance to emit his own quick barrier before explosive heat surrounded the duo completely.

---

"Keep moving," Turles commanded, forcing the heiress back to attention when she paused at the alarmingly powerful surge of energy behind her.

Bulla nodded and continued forward, deciding, for once, that Turles was right - she'd have greater impact from the front. If I catch them before they even get a chance to slip through, we won't need to worry about the guys out here, she acknowledged.

"Everything happens faster when you're on the frontline," Turles lectured, keeping his gaze ahead while the pair travelled towards the outer plateaus. "There's no time to deliberate, so stay fluid."

She was in the middle of clearing hair out of her eyes when she found a fist suddenly charging straight for her face. The heiress caught it with both hands, yanking sharply and throwing her leg out in rapid counter.

Turles grabbed the stiff limb in his palm, barely sparing his head a hefty kick. "Good," was all he muttered as the two found themselves locked in a tense stare-off.

Blood rushed to Bulla's face while he slowly loosened his grip on her shin, reeling herself back and suppressing a gulp.

"There's been no sign of Sibe so far," he voiced, eyes narrowing in scepticism. "And I still can't even be sure it was him that I saw…" He was almost inaudible as he turned away. "If you encounter him again-" Turles rolled his head, features straight and hard as he gazed at her with a seriousness that gave her goosebumps. "Run."

This time she did gulp.

"This isn't about tucking your non-existent tail and fleeing in fear," he continued with a caustic hiss. "He needs you to be within range to exert his will over your body."

She shuddered at the thought.

"What else?" Bulla prompted, recalling the uneasy pull from her core the first time she saw the strangely angelic overlord. "What else do I need to know about this guy? How do I beat him?"

He simply stared at her, almost astounded. "He can't be beaten alone," Turles eventually mumbled, causing her to falter. "There needs to be at least two." He paused, considering something. "Since we've already done it before, I highly doubt he'll fall for the same trick twice." She wanted to ask him to elaborate, but he was already onto the next topic.

"Now." Turles let out a breath as he cast his gaze east. "I'm going to rope in the rest of Nappa and Cinna's soldiers-"

At that very moment, Bulla perked up, sensing her beloved childhood friend, "Found some!" and blasted towards her. Pan wasn't alone, Bulla soon noted. A handful of Saiyans were nearby, including Captain Caya and a few others from her squad.

"Bulla!" Pan beamed, the ends of her eyes curling up as the two reunited. "You're okay!"

"Of course I'm okay," Bulla chuckled, warmth rising at the relief of seeing her fellow Earthling. "Why wouldn't I be?" That's when she noticed the older hybrid's dishevelled appearance. Her spandex covered arms were dotted with holes and dried blood was smeared all across Pan's cheek. "What happened to you?" Bulla asked, blue brows knitting together in concern. I thought these guys were meant to be easy?

"Did you just get here?" Pan's features steadily straightened. "Have you faced anyone yet?"

"Not really," Bulla's frown deepened at the intensity behind the question, "We came to find you," and turned to look at Turles. He was following after her, joining up with the rest of the team. "Why? And what happened to Cinna?"

Both girls snapped their heads when each sensed the approach of another foreign horde. "Turles," Bulla called. Immediately, he cut his conversation with Caya short and floated over to the two hybrids. "There's a lot of them," she informed, intuitively keeping her voice hushed. "It feels like they're beelining for the forest."

"You." He pointed to the quarterling. "Lead Caya and the others to the head of their formation. Distract them with a frontal assault. My men and I will come from the rear, boxing them in, and picking off anyone who tries to escape."

Pan gave a firm nod before jetting off, Saiyan team in tow.

He turned to look at the heiress. "Take us around the back, but ensure they don't notice," he ordered. "Give us a wide berth."

"Got it," Bulla affirmed, masking her ki as she led him towards the invading wave. From the corner of her eye, she watched while Turles pressed at his scouter with no response.

With a grumble, he said, "Looks like it's just going to be you and me this time, princess."

Whatever, she shrugged. I doubt we'll need the backup anyway.

After a few minutes, Bulla spoke up. "We're getting close. Should probably do the rest from the ground," she put forward, remembering an earlier point about being easy targets from the sky. The boulders would aid their cover while they skirted the invaders' movements.

Both spiralled smoothly towards the planet surface, hovering the rest of the route to avoid the sound of their footsteps giving away their location.

As she peered around yet another rocky outcrop, Bulla felt the telling prickle. Pulling back, she looked to Turles. "They're about to pass through," she whispered, gesturing with her thumb.

"How far are the others?" he asked, stretching past her to see for himself. "We only make our move once Caya starts her attack."

She squashed her back into the boulder, attempting to keep their respective armour pieces from brushing. "They're about eight hundred metres ahead," she answered, glancing away when she found herself unintentionally staring at his Adam's apple.

He transferred his gaze back to the heiress, eyeing her curiously. "Hot?"

"Huh?" Her heart jumped at the strange comment.

Three thick fingers tapped her cheek. "Your skin is flushed."

"Oh." Bulla fanned at her face sheepishly. Admittedly, there was a notable hike in temperature in the barren valley in comparison to her shaded post near the forest. Hopefully it was a convincing excuse.

Her cheeks burned even brighter when he brought a palm to her neck and stepped closer. "Turles!" she scolded, eyes bulging at the broody warrior as she pressed her hands against his chest. "Now is not-"

He didn't even seem to be listening to her, head tilted while he mumbled, "What's this?" rolling something she couldn't see in his fingers.

Her own eyes distractedly fell on a sluggish mosquito hovering around the General's head. When it landed on his collar, she unthinkingly gave it a slap. "Ow!" she yelped, drawing her hand back and giving it a shake. "What the heck kind of insects do you have here?"

She sucked in a sharp breath when someone - something - appeared behind him, imposing and unsettlingly polished. Instinctively, she jerked Turles out of the way, earning herself a bark of disapproval.

They jumped apart when a silver arm plunged towards them, five dagger-like fingers reflecting menacingly. Turles immediately fired a ki ball in retaliation and both Saiyans watched as yellow energy merged with the creature's skull, absorbing from the centre and dissipating outward. It didn't even flinch before sending out a metal cord, missing the General by a mile when he strafed in easy avoidance.

"You need recalibration," Turles taunted through gritted teeth. But the cord swung back, looping around his lumbar and cinching at his waist, catching an arm in the process. He let out a grunt when the coil tightened and wrapped his free fingers around the filament. Bulla could see Turles' hair starting to float as he sent raw power through the cord, but it only resulted in pretty shimmers rolling along the alloy towards the robot's core.

Another shiny rope shot out, knife's blade at its tip, and sliced through the air around him.

God, it's fast! Bulla noted in surprise while Turles dodged with severely hampered mobility.

"Identifying target." It spoke with cold monotony as its mechanical eyes zoomed and darted. "Target established." Bulla was still disoriented as she watched the General struggle in its clutches. "Target req-"

She didn't wait to hear the rest of its message, bringing her hands either side of its face and ripping the head clean off, following up with a fist through its centre before tearing at the internal wiring and freeing Turles in the process.

Once loose, he took over, slamming into the lustrous creature and destroying it piece-by-piece.

"What was that!" Bulla exclaimed, heart pounding.

Turles flexed his hand, flicking metal shards to the ground. "How did it know we were here?" seemed to be his more pressing concern.

"Did you see how it just swallowed your energy beam?!" she continued, still edgy at the ease with which it had managed to sneak up on them.

Trickling red from the General's cheekbone caught her eye, and she stepped towards him, gliding her thumb along the length of the cut. "It actually got you," she muttered, eyes lifting when she noticed his hair had fallen victim too. Bulla fingered the ends, now even more disturbed at the creature's speed. This guy's no sloth.

He nudged her hand away. "Don't let yourself get distracted," Turles dismissed. "Scrapes are inevitable. Where are the invading soldiers?"

Bulla went quiet as she sought foreign ki, failing to find anything of note. Have I lost them already? They were about to reach us just a few minutes ago.

"They're… gone?" she uttered in confusion.

"What?" he snarled. "How can they be gone. You said they were on the verge of passing right by us."

"I know, I…" Her eyes tensed as she tried once more. "They've moved!" she blurted, aquamarine orbs widening. "Changed course." Bulla turned her head in the direction of the hidden army, bewildered as to how they could shift tactics so abruptly.

"What?!"

She leaned away from his booming voice with a wince. "It's like they skirted our skirting."

"Where are they now?" he demanded, jaw clenched.

Bulla pointed, squinting as the breeze picked up and sent loose sand hurtling towards her face.

"Anyone else out that way?" he pressed. "Your brother, or the other half-breed idiot?"

Bulla shook her head, ignoring the second half of his question. "No one."

He paused for a few seconds, presumably calculating his next move. "Which direction do I need to fly to find Caya?"

Bulla gestured the opposite direction.

"Alright," he began sternly. "Find my soldiers and send them towards your friend. The girl."

"Pan," Bulla offered.

"Whatever," he dismissed. "Tell them to find her. They're fighting blind without one of you four amongst them. Meet up with me once you've finished."

As he began his exit, Bulla called, "Turles."

He hesitated, twisting his head and listening over his shoulder while his cape swayed in the never-ending Crest wind.

"Take care of yourself." She faintly smiled when he lifted clouded eyes, meeting her own - sparkling and sanguine. "I think more than one of us would miss you."

The corner of his mouth pulled, revealing a single dimple before the General blasted off, leaving the heiress on her own once more.

After getting a handle on her thoughts and successfully shutting the basement door of her mind, Bulla sought Turles' Captains, following the trail once she'd pinpointed the first of them.

---

"Keep going straight," Bulla shouted into the wind as she wrangled the last of Turles' men, "I just want to check something," and began her descent. It was still eerily quiet out here, but a momentary flicker caught her attention.

She let out an exhale as her boots touched down on loose dirt, scanning the new site while she gained her bearings. It was dry as a bone and she kicked up dust with every step she took.

Should be here somewhere. Bulla continued to float along, dragging her fingertips over rocky outcrops along the way.

What's this? Her attention fell on an unexpectedly dark spot amongst all the surrounding deep orange, breath catching when she got closer. Oh no…

She broke into a sprint when she realised what was in front of her: One of Caya's soldiers, lips parted and eyes open. A thick rod drove through the centre of his chest while its pointy tip was crusted with drying blood. No no no. Bulla ran her hands over his armour, instinctively seeking a way to relieve him of any discomfort. Lowering her ear to his mouth, she listened for - willed! - air to wheeze out. No such sound came and her chest clenched. "You can't be dead," she told him quietly, beginning to pump at his sternum. You guys are way too tough for this.

She felt another pulse of energy, faint but close, and rose to standing, hesitating before taking a step forward. Reluctant to leave the impaled soldier unattended.

"It's too late," a raspy voice croaked. "There's no saving him."

Bulla followed the sound to a nearby rock, finding yet another downed Saiyan behind it. "Drago!" she cried, instantly dropping to her knees to assess the extent of his injuries.

She frowned as she spied shards of metal littered all through his forearms while he held a hand to his stomach. Bulla could never have imagined seeing of any of Caya's jaunty soldiers so subdued as he sat with his back against the ruddy boulder. "What happened here?" she asked, brushing specks of sand off his cheeks before thumbing sweat out of his eyes to help clear his vision.

"The network is down," he told her throatily, struggling for breath. "Couldn't call for backup." Bulla jolted when he grabbed her wrist, interrupting her fussing. "Warn the others," he urged earnestly. "Find the Kaiser and tell him to tread carefully."

Aquamarine brows drew together in doubt. "What do you mean? Warn the others about what?"

"They anticipated every move we made." Drago continued despite the clear agony it caused him to speak. "Got the one up on us even when we thought we found them first."

"How could they?" Her frown deepened.

"We've been betrayed."

Bulla blanched, throat clenching shut. She didn't even want to think about going down that train of thought. "No way." She shook her head, more adamant with each swing. "Never."

"What other explanation is there?" he coughed, beads of moisture dripping down the side of his face and curving around his hefty jaw.

"I don't know," the heiress admitted. "But not that."

"He won't see an assassination coming from the inside."

Her heart stopped beating altogether as she stared back at him, frozen. An attempt on his life by one of his own? Her stomach somersaulted.

"What are you doing?" he grunted as the heiress lifted his arm and hooked it around her neck.

"You're coming with me." She rose once more, one arm wrapped around his waist while the other hung on to the hand currently draped over her shoulder.

"Put me down," he chastised, beginning to pull away. "You can't fight while your hands are full."

"I can and I will," she countered, levitating off the ground and spurring a miniature whirlwind at their feet. "Don't argue with me. I guarantee I've got more practice at it than you do."

---

He was heading towards the far-lying plateaus when he spotted her, blue locks flying so wildly it made her look like Medusa. As she descended for the surface, he realised she was supporting someone he vaguely recognised, lowering him gently to the ground and laying him down in a shaded pass. Keeping her hand on his shoulder, Bulla pressed her fingers to his stomach and the two spoke inaudibly. Doesn't look like he's in good shape.

When she snapped her head right - the opposite direction to where Goten had found himself watching her from - the dark-haired hybrid did the same, though couldn't see what had grabbed her attention so abruptly. After confirming something with the wounded Saiyan and receiving an affirming nod, Bulla shot off.

The move was so hurried, Goten couldn't help but follow. Something was happening, and if it was serious, he wanted to be there too, making sure no one else got hurt.

He slowed when she came to a stop, chest tightening when he recognised the powerful energy she must have been seeking.

Oh.

From this distance, all he could see was the unruly hair of his uncle while the towering Saiyan had his back to the halfling. Bulla was at Raditz' front, completely blocked from view.

Instinctively, Goten turned away. Half out of respect for their privacy and half out of preservation of his own heart.

Though he paused when he caught their rising voices.

It sounded as though they were speaking at the same time, each talking over the other while both grew increasingly frustrated.

All chatter came to an abrupt end when Goten heard a planet-shattering slap, followed by a shrill, "Fine! Die then!" Bulla proceeded to storm off, hair flicking out especially dramatically when she viciously added over her shoulder, "See if I care!"

Raditz watched her leave in exasperation, Bulla huffing as she muttered bitterly to herself. During his turn, he finally seemed to notice the dark-haired demi-Saiyan, eyeing him as Goten observed the fiery dispute. Uncle and nephew gradually found themselves caught in an uneasy silent exchange while Goten quietly attempted to gauge the older man's thoughts. Decoding Raditz' mind, Goten had learned, was like doing a Rubik's cube while blindfolded. From the moment he'd set foot on the flagship, he had no idea where he stood with the reticent Saiyan - at least Turles was clear with his disdain. Though, in hindsight, the chilly reception made complete sense.

And yet despite the Kaiser's closed-off demeanour and abrasive personality, Bulla still managed to catch his attention and needle her way under his skin.

Of course she did, Goten acknowledged. It's like Trunks said. He glanced to the youngest hybrid, taking in her cautious expression as she slowly registered his presence and lifted her head. She's the daughter of legendary Saiyan Prince Vegeta and Earth's most brilliant brain, Bulma Briefs. The deadliest of combinations. Despite himself, a smile tugged at his mouth when their gazes met. No one stands a chance against her. Bulla's lips began to part, as though to say something, but no sound came out. Not even me.

Bulla gasped suddenly, pulling him out of his musings. Aquamarine orbs expanded wide before she steadily lowered her gaze to her side. Slim hands clutched at her waist, obscuring Goten's view, but he could see liquid starting to pool under her fingers.

Without warning, she was violently yanked towards the ground, plummeting through the air like a hooked fish.

Goten looked on in horror, frozen for a moment before seeing his uncle spring into action and rocket after the diving princess. Snapping himself out of his shock, Goten followed, all three Saiyans soaring towards the dirt like missiles.

Bulla landed first with a crash, Raditz less than a second behind.

Goten touched down soon after. "What just happened?" He ran over, kneeling at her side and prying her protective fingers away from her waist. They were splotchy with crimson and his heart stalled when he saw an inch wide hole right below the base of her chest armour. She was on her back and squirming, breathing growing rapid as she restrained a groan.

Bulla screamed suddenly as her whole body spasmed into the sand. "Make it stop!" she begged, squeezing her eyes shut as she dug her fingertips into Goten's forearm.

"Make what stop?" he pleaded, eyebrows pinching with worry when she frantically clawed at her side.

"There's something in there!" she cried, nails tearing at her open wound in search of whatever she believed to be inside. "Get it out!"

Goten gripped her wrists, interrupting her self-directed assault before she dealt any further damage. "Okay, okay," he placated. "I'll get it out, just-" Foolishly, he looked to her face, immediately tormented by the agony in her expression, "Stop ripping yourself up," and inhaled before plunging his index finger into the gaping wound. The squelch of fluid and flesh turned his stomach. To his surprise, Bulla was right - there was definitely something obstructing the hole, though it appeared clear to the naked eye.

"It's one of those invisible guys!" he alerted hurriedly. I didn't even sense him. "They've put something in her."

"Show yourself!" the Kaiser demanded, teeth bared and eyes inflamed while he scanned the area, entirely predatory. "Or face the consequence of me finding you first." When he darted to grab thin air, Goten heard a grunt as Raditz slammed an unseen foe into the boulder left of Bulla's head. "Running like a coward?" he taunted.

"Raditz," Bulla cried out once more, compulsively reaching for her side and pawing at Goten's blocking hands in frustration. "Get him to stop whatever he's doing, or I swear I'm going to explode."

"I can make him stop." The Kaiser maintained his attention on the hidden soldier as he kept him pinned to the rock. "But I'm restricted in what I'm allowed to do with my hands." He tightened his grip, finally causing the soldier to flicker into sight. "In case you've forgotten."

When she faltered, Goten looked between them sceptically. What is he talking about?

"Unbind me," Raditz requested, narrowing the gap between himself and his captive until their chest plates grazed. "And I will be only too happy to end your suffering."

---

He actually...

Bulla hesitated.

Someone's life hung on the balance by her word alone.

I…

She screamed once more when the stomach-curdling combination of itching, burning and excruciating agony spiralled out of her side. I don't- Her eyes stung as she tossed her head back, growing dizzy from the bursts of mind-numbing pain.

"Bulla," she heard Raditz' voice, stern but pleading as she drifted in and out of focus.

"Fine!" she yelled. Before she could even finish her thought, Bulla heard a terror-filled squeak followed by the crush of solid bone. When she twisted her head along her rock, there was blood spattered all across Raditz' face while he glared at the, now disfigured, soldier.

It still hurts...

She rolled onto her stomach and drew her legs in, tears threatening the corners of her eyes as she balled herself into fetal position.

Vaguely, she registered hands on her shoulders, persuading her onto her back before slipping out of consciousness.

---

She hadn't even realised she'd blacked out, but when she opened her eyes, two Sons were towering over her. There was a stark sensation of deja vu. "Is this another dream?" she asked groggily.

"I need to get this thing out of you," Raditz voice hit her ears while rough hands traced over her waist. Funny, that isn't what he usually says in dreamworld? Maybe it's different this time. Let's see what Goten does.

"Bulla." As if on cue, Goten spoke too, bringing his face in line with her own, "Are you okay? You seem kind of..." and pressing his palm to her forehead. "She's burning up," he told the older Saiyan.

Not following the script either. She closed her eyes once more and noted the sound of ripping fabric, followed by cool air dancing over her stomach, and jerked her leg when something dug into the wound. "Ow!"

Raditz paid no mind, despite the kick to the gut the move earned him.

She started zoning out again, still hearing their voices, though not particularly following what was being said.

"I've seen this before," Raditz murmured as he rolled a barbed cylinder in his palm. "She's going have to ride out the pain until her body processes the last of the venom."

"But she'll be okay?" Goten asked, prying her eyes open and inspecting her pupils.

"Only pain receptors are stimulated," he answered clearly. "It's not intended to cause any long-term damage. But the bleeding-"

Warm fingers glided over her side.

That feels nice, she wriggled.

"I'm going to have to cauterise," Raditz' finished, grazing over the gaping hole with his thumb.

"Are you serious?" Goten baulked, glancing to Bulla with visible concern before looking back at his uncle.

"Hold her down."

"But-"

"Do it."

She felt a hand at each of her shoulders as Goten shuffled closer, still in his kneel next to her.

Hi Goten, she smiled.

He dropped his head, bringing his mouth to her ear. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

For what? she wondered innocently, happily distracted by the sensation of two sets of male hands wandering across her body. I could get used to this.

The bliss was short-lived, however.

The Saiyan princess' cries reached all the way to the stratosphere before echoing back to the parched valley and rebounding off the stoic outcrops.

Raditz stopped after a few seconds. "Give her something to bite," he ordered impatiently.

Goten glossed around for anything suitable. "There's nothing to give," he responded. "Not even a tree branch. It's all sand out here."

Still reeling from the unending series of faint-inducing pain spirals, Bulla felt a large, abraded hand at her mouth. "Here," Raditz offered. She didn't even get a chance to deliberate before he returned to work at her stomach, fingers singing raw, tender skin.

She clamped down, certain she was about to rip the outer chunk of his left hand clean off, but it helped.

Less than a minute later, the ordeal was over and her mind slowly sank back into her skull.

Goten lifted, removing his weight while Raditz withdrew both hands, each observing her cautiously.

"Bulla?" the older demi-Saiyan spoke warmly while he rubbed her arm. "You still with us?"

She pressed into her palm, taking in her surrounds as she carefully pushed herself up. "That's… actually a lot better," she uttered, still moderately light-headed, and looked to the older of the two remorsefully, thoughts beginning to clear.

Thank you.

Goten extended a hand and she took it gratefully, gently pulling herself up to standing. Perhaps it was due to shock, but the waves of nausea-inducing pain were definitely starting to subside, and the cauterised nerves seemed to allow some relief from the wound itself.

The dark-haired halfling was still clutching her arm, observing her with marked apprehension before pulling her close and wrapping both arms around her back.

She lowered her lids with an exhale, relishing the brief moment of comfort as he dipped his nose to the top of her head and gave a squeeze.

Bulla broke into a smile against his collarbone when she realised he was showing no sign of letting go. "Who's more shaken up right now?" she teased. "Me, or you?" Out of the corner of her eye, she looked to the pure-blooded member of the group and watched while he wiped his hands on his cape. When he lifted his gaze, meeting her own, his expression was controlled as ever.

What are you thinking, silent soldier.

She twisted around when she sensed Trunks' ki, abruptly reminded that she was, in fact, in the middle of an all-out war.

He was in the distance, hovering over a row of hills, but just near enough for her to see. Time slowed as she zeroed in.

The wind set his hair flying while he threw out an arm, gesturing at something ahead. His mouth moved with fervour as scores of Saiyans dashed forward, seemingly at his instruction alone. When he turned to show his back, she realised his hair wasn't the only thing blowing in the strong breeze: A navy cape flapped fiercely behind him.

Look at him, Bulla gawked in unbridled awe. My brother.

Born to rule.

Seeing him in the thick of all the action was just the prompt she needed to bring her focus back to centre. Enough messing around.

Bulla pulled away from her fellow hybrid, ignoring the sting in her side when she readied herself for launch but Goten grabbed her hand, intercepting her exit. "Are you sure you're okay to get back out there?" he asked, brows converging.

"Please," she scoffed, playful smirk adorned. "Who are you talking to here?"

The end of his mouth curled into a knowing smile and the creases at his eyes deepened. "In that case..." Goten glanced to the Kaiser and offered a nod. After Raditz returned the gesture, the demi-Saiyan blasted off, aiming straight for Trunks' skirmish.

As she watched Goten's flame shrink, Bulla felt Raditz approach.

"I know, I know," she sighed, preempting the reaming that was coming her way. "I let my guard down. My father would be ripping me to shreds right now if he was watching, trust me." The heiress was interrupted when she felt a pair of hard lips pressing into her own and inhaled sharply, instinctively bringing her hands up to push against his armour before letting her eyes close and breath release.

The swirl in her stomach matched the shakiness of her knees and when they pulled apart, Bulla absently brought her fingers to her mouth, suddenly unable to find the words she'd had just moments before.

Raditz raised his right arm, flexing his fingers before her. "I swore to myself I would never have your blood on my hands," he uttered, observing the appendage as crusted crimson cracked within the grooves of his finger joints.

Bulla simply stared at him, mouth agape, now rendered entirely speechless as her heart burst in her chest.

"Your hands can be used for more than killing, Raditz," she finally managed to get out.

He glanced back at her, guarded. But in that moment, he looked more like a Son than she ever remembered seeing and it sent shivers spiralling down her spine.

A hint of a smile appeared as he shook his head, but it was gone before she had a chance to commit it to memory as he blasted off, following his nephew towards the Trunks-led assault.

Taking a few breaths to collect herself, Bulla flew the opposite direction, grimacing at the verbal reprimand she knew she had coming after her detour from Turles' very clear instructions.

Collecting Drago along the way, she darted for the borderlands.

Once they arrived, she lowered her passenger to a nearby rock and sought her leader.

Turles was in the middle of inspecting an anonymous invader's armour, pulling at his chest piece and slipping his hand inside, apparently seeking something. He paused when the heiress approached, listening over his shoulder.

Bulla showed her palm immediately. "Don't even start."

Turles straightened, glaring at her blankly before his eyes fell to her bared stomach, honing in on the unsightly opening. "You've been hit," he commented, taking a step closer.

Understatement.

"I'm fine now." She ran her fingers through her hair, ready to get back on track as quickly as possible. "What's been going on?"

With arms crossed, he twisted around, casting his gaze behind him. "Your friend has proven to be an effective fighter," he told her, evidently pleased. "It doesn't hurt that she actually listens to me."

Bulla snorted at the addon. "Is she your favourite now?" she quirked an eyebrow, stifling a laugh. "That didn't take long."

He strolled towards her, still eyeing the hole at her side. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she dismissed as he lowered to his haunches, inspecting the wound more closely. "Scrapes are inevitable, right?"

"Who sealed this?" he persisted, reaching out a hand.

"Raditz," she answered, causing him to hesitate. When he glanced up, bottomless black orbs met blue for a few silent moments until he rose to his full height, drawing his hand back and returning it to his side.

"They've been pressured back to the plateaus." Turles shifted gears, showing his back as he returned to his earlier task.

"Cool..." Bulla nodded, clasping her hands together while she watched him direct a palm towards the corpse. "That's good news."

"We've slowly been corralling them," he added with a blast. "And have almost merged with the rest of the military."

"So we're all out here then?" she clarified, letting go of a breath she hadn't even realised she'd been holding.

"This area's been cleared," Turles stated. "Time to move on."

---

All things being equal, today could have progressed far worse. The loss of their scouters as a means of communication was a major blow, but the hybrids had prevented the day from becoming a complete slaughter. While reluctant to involve them initially, he had to admit they felt like a godsend right now.

Unthinkingly, he peered at his right hand, still covered in her blood. Not now, he silently rumbled, heeding his father's words.

He neared the prince's son. Trunks, he reminded himself.

"Report," he ordered once he reached the oldest hybrid. An earlier envoy had already relayed some of the most essential points. Cinna was missing. Nappa had fallen. Bulla's brother had risen as the dark horse, taking the bulk of both Nappa and Cinna's squads under his wing while the rest found direction through Turles' command.

Trunks swivelled, arms folded as he tore his eyes off the brawl and regarded the Saiyan leader. "We've broken the back of it," he answered calmly. "This is the biggest wave we've faced so far, and the tricks never end." The demi-Saiyan effortlessly swerved when a beam sailed towards him. "But they're running out of steam. The upper hand is ours. We never lost it."

Raditz nodded slowly, admittedly impressed at the halfling's seamless transition from Earthling businessman to Saiyan military commander. Siblings they may be, Raditz acknowledged, but the Prince's progeny were very different people. Though, evidently, the potential was there.

"Horus!" Trunks called suddenly, catching the attention of a long-haired Saiyan fifty metres away. The hybrid extended a stiff arm, palm to the ground, and lifted the limb until it was vertical and in-line with his body. Immediately, Horus sank towards the planet surface and brought both hands above his head, unleashing a broad wave of energy and engulfing three once-hidden invaders in the process.

Trunks returned his attention to the Kaiser. "Whoever planned this," he continued soberly. "Never counted on you being able to detect their soldiers. I'm willing to bet that element was crucial to their plans of triumph."

"Almost certainly," Raditz agreed. Our casualties would have been far higher by now.

"We've got this," the half-breed displayed a confident smile.

While undoubtedly softer-tempered than his old prince, Raditz saw the familiar intensity behind the man's eyes all too easily and had to suppress the cracking of old wounds at the unwelcome reminder.

Trunks turned his head and gazed into the distance. "The others are on their way," he informed. "Bulla. Pan. The rest of your soldiers." Raditz shifted too, unthinkingly. The half-breed looked at him then, eyes faintly narrowing, but didn't say anything further.

"You and I are in charge of the airspace beyond that rock-line," Raditz commanded, gesturing to the string of hulking boulders to the left. "Turles and Bardock will take the opposite side."

"Got it," Trunks confirmed. As Raditz began his exit, the halfling called out once more, "Hey Kaiser," causing him to pause. "They're safe in my hands," he assured seriously. "My father taught me more than just how to throw a punch."

Raditz eyed him for a moment. For all the Prince's flaws, he considered. The bastard knew how to stay alive. And by extension, keep his underlings breathing too.

Until they outlived their value, of course.

He offered a quiet nod and blasted towards the incoming squads.

Ideally, he'd have kept his distance from her for as long as the battle persisted, entrusting Turles with the role of keeping an eye on the stubborn princess, but some things couldn't be helped.

After hearing the blood-curdling screams that had erupted from her earlier, he wouldn't have been surprised if she was out of commission for the rest of carnage, but here she was, poised and ready as though nothing had even happened.

He observed as she dipped down into her crouch, spinning right and landing a meaty punch in the chest of a cloaked soldier behind her. He flickered for a moment before disappearing again and smashing into the rock-face to her rear.

Immediately, Bulla swept out her left foot and dropped into the dirt, straddling her next foe before drawing back a fist and letting it fly right into his face. Hopping onto the balls of her feet, she dashed forward, launching at a third adversary and ramming into him with her shoulder. A stream of yellow shot out of her hand as she propelled herself up and released three distinct beams of controlled energy in succession.

Three bodies fell to the ground, one after the other.

Six in under twenty seconds.

Never could Raditz have imagined being so mesmerised by the sight of combat. The juxtaposition of someone so ethereal being equally indomitable on the battlefield continued to bend his mind.

Once he reached his General, the pair swapped notes and solidified their next step.

"There's still no sign of their ship," Turles voiced throatily, eyes on the skirmish to their right. "We can't be sure of anything until we annihilate the source."

"Agreed." Raditz watched too as the two female hybrids fought back-to-back, Saiyan fierceness pouring all through their fiery expressions. They almost appeared to be dancing, their moves were so seamlessly synchronised. It occurred to the Kaiser then that these two girls, pretty and privileged as they were, had to have spent endless hours training together. "But none of the Earthlings seem able to pinpoint where that source is."

Far off, he spotted the remaining two hybrids. Like the girls, Trunks and Goten were undoubtedly well-practised at fighting side-by-side. Perhaps splitting them up wasn't the best move this time around, he acknowledged as the duo landed a simultaneous punch on one of those strange sleek steel contraptions, shattering it to pieces.

Another was terrorising a Saiyan squad nearby and Goten reacted quickly, hooking both mechanical arms behind its back while Trunks systematically destroyed each major joint.

Coordinated spars were not something Saiyans spent too much time focusing on. One-on-one, or many-on-one, was the preferred avenue of practice, but the synergy he was witnessing was definitely making him question whether their approach could do with an overhaul.

Trunks was on the right track. The current wave was slowly dwindling with no sign of reinforcements on the way. However this attempted invasion intended on ending, their hopes were all but dead in the water.

The ground began to rumble suddenly, then rattle. Earthquake? Raditz wondered doubtfully. Wouldn't be the strangest thing to happen today. The shaking only grew stronger, until he heard shouting from Trunks' camp.

Everyone paused where they stood, despite any ongoing tussles, hypnotised by the impossible sight before them.

Emerging from thin air was… A boot? Raditz floated closer, straining his eyes as he attempted to follow what in the name of the Gods was going on in the clearing ahead. He was wrong - it was two boots.

Gradually, from the ground up, metallic feet materialised. Followed by legs, a pelvis, an abdomen. Raditz cast his gaze across the battlefield - all of his soldiers were stuck in a daze, leaving themselves wide open.

"Fall back!" he roared, snapping them to attention and repeating the order until all were behind him.

The construction of the behemoth was complete and it was unlike anything he'd ever seen. Taller than any mountain on Crest and shiny alloy hands large enough fit five fully-grown Saiyans with ease.

Its chest was immense, a solid impenetrable wall with presumably no vital organs within to mark.

Where do we even start with this thing?

An ear-wrenching creak sounded from its neck when the colossus turned its head, red eyes glowing as it honed right in on the Kaiser. Raditz hesitated, wrestling with the choice of standing his ground, or blasting forward and sparing the strange foe an easy target.

He didn't need to deliberate long. In a cascade, an endless series of seven-foot panels hissed open across its body. All down its arms, legs and torso.

What in the heavens?

Within each compartment sat a dormant steel robot, identical to those that had been wreaking havoc across Crest since the first's arrival. Except now it wasn't one or two at a time. There had to be close to a hundred of them, if not more.

Raditz drew in a breath, pitch black eyes widening.

In sequence, they whirred to life, razor-sharp fingers fidgeting, long faces tilting with eerie curiosity. The beasts floated out in unison, waiting a handful of heavy seconds before swarming out like giant reflective bees.

Three came straight for him, immediately launching into a frenzied assault of steel fists and rapid, slicing cables. Raditz slipped directly into his ascended form, realising the speed boost would be crucial.

He ducked swiftly when a cord swung for his head, grabbing it and strafing right as the second robot directed its fist towards his gut. Shooting backwards, he forced distance between himself and his agile opponents.

Those who could, transformed too. In the corner of his eye, Raditz watched candle flames light up one-by-one. On his right, his nephew joined the sequence, followed by the half-breed prince. What?! Raditz temper spiked. The nitwit lied to me! Instinctively, he looked to the girls. The quarterling ascended too, blasting forward without an inkling of hesitation.

Bulla stood near Turles, but her head, still blue, was turned. And when she powered up, she remained as he'd always known her. Perhaps he was telling the truth about her?

"Bulla!" Raditz heard Turles bellow. The General was furious as he reached for her arm, face flaming while the vein at his temple throbbed. She dodged him, barely, and dashed for the forest. "Get back here!" he ordered.

What is she doing? Raditz frowned, but was soon brought back to the skirmish at hand when he heard the cries of his men and women, falling like flies to the lustrous machines.

It took all he could to repress the disappointment at seeing the Saiyan princess fleeing the scene of such a heated and critical battle.

Was I wrong about her?

---

Raditz crashed through another rigid midsection, hearing the crunch of alloy ripping from its fastenings as he brought himself to a stop. Hunks of burnished shell sank to the ground while he stared at the scrap metal graveyard below.

Saiyan stamina was not limitless, and he knew his soldiers would be growing tired by now. It certainly didn't help that their adversaries had no such weakness.

To his left, he caught Turles snapping his head suddenly, distracted by something behind him. The inattention earned him a hefty blow to the cheek and he let out a groan in response.

"What was that," Raditz barked, swerving right to dodge his own hit.

"Nothing," Turles grumbled, smashing his fist through a gleaming head.

Opting to keep his mouth, Raditz changed his mind when he continued to see the General making one sloppy move after the other. "Has one day with your underlings rubbed off on you this much?" he cut, grabbing the arm of an incoming droid before it rammed its fingers right through Turles' chest piece. "You're fighting like a maggot. Where is your head? Because it certainly isn't here."

After a few moments of silence, the surly General spoke. "She's in trouble."

"Who's in trouble?" Raditz chastised, growing increasingly impatient. The last thing he needed was an inattentive General at his side, failing what was left of their struggling army.

Turles simply glared at him, fiery-eyed.

Raditz own eyes tensed as he glowered back at his General, "How do you know she's in trouble." His chest constricted when the man glanced away with an inaudible mumble. "Speak, Turles," he growled, bearing his canines.

"Just trust me."

He couldn't help himself. "Where is she?" the Kaiser pressed, finishing off his foe.

"In the city," Turles answered huskily.

Raditz bit down so hard it sent a ring to his ears.

"I know what you're thinking," the General added firmly, tensing his fist. "But she wouldn't have deserted. The girl is soft, but you and I both know... she's tough."

He'd be lying if he said it didn't relieve him to hear such words from his trusted right hand. He was reluctant to believe what his rational mind had been whispering about the princess since she'd first disappeared.

"I can take over," Turles insisted. "We're managing for now."

Raditz hesitated, unable to shirk responsibility so readily. His people needed him at the helm, leading them fearlessly into victory. This was exactly the sort of thing Bardock warned against.

"She's fading," the shorter Saiyan urged, dropping his voice.

They exchanged a glance before Raditz raced for the city centre, a sinking hole in his stomach pulling as he wondered what he would be forced to witness once he found her.

As he sailed over the dense forest, scanning desperately, his eyes fell on a strange light in the distance, warm and wide. What's that? He was already flying at full speed, but it had never felt slower.

Once he reached the settlement, he came to an abrupt stop as his already sinking stomach twisted. The bright light was her, golden and blinding as she cast an immense protective dome over the broken Saiyan battle school. One arm was out, sustaining the barrier while the other clutched at her side.

What is she doing?!

Behind her were the huddled future fighters of Crest, along with weaker and ageing members of their society

Mother! He spotted Gine, squeezing Cinna's feisty cub tightly while a mutilated invader lay at their feet. He wasn't the only one, Raditz quickly realised. The soiled school floor was littered with foreign soldiers, scattered like strewn dolls. The kid from the cafeteria was there too - the one Bulla seemed so fond of cavorting with despite her humble standing on the ship. The teenager was cradling some of the children, vacant face covered in blood as she soothingly whispered into one of the toddlers ears.

Raditz watched in horror as blood seeped through Bulla's fingers, agony in her features as she dropped to one knee. Static electricity crackled through her, as well as her persisting blockade.

One of the cadets broke from the cluster, running to her side and putting out his hands in efforts to add his own energy to the barrier. Another came forward, doing the same as she fell to her other knee.

"Bulla!" Raditz called from outside the dome. The break in concentration caused her to lose her hold on her shield, allowing him to see what she'd been protecting against. Energy surged outward, smacking into hordes of previously unseen soldiers and sending the front layer flying backwards. Hundreds were illuminated by her ki.

Raditz took the opportunity to dash in, heading straight for the slumping hybrid as she winced into the floorboards.

"Take them out first," she panted, sweat dripping off the tip of her nose and onto the back of her hands.

He looked up, balling ki in both palms before blasting a torrent of energy outward and vaporising anyone slow enough to slip into its wake.

Once enough of them had dropped, or fled, he relented, letting the heat in his hands dissipate.

"What happened here?" he pressed she Bulla pushed herself up to her feet.

"I felt Fern," she exhaled, still holding her fingers to her wound. "They were trying to take the kids." Bulla stumbled backwards, catching her balance when Raditz brought out a hand and nudged it against her spine. "I think it was all a diversion. The Titan and its minions."

Raditz looked at her doubtfully.

"Well deduced little Saiyan."

His blood ran cold at the sound of the voice before a monstrous rage rose up, sending it pumping through his veins once more in a wild torrent.

"It seems some of you are a touch sharper."

Bulla lifted her gaze slowly, lips parted while she stared at his old overlord.

"Raditz, my dear." He smiled sweetly, but his eyes were frigid and hateful as ever. "Always a pleasure seeing you. Oh my, you do look impressive, don't you?" He scrunched his nose as if cooing over a fluffy puppy, "I never got a chance to see you in this dashing state myself," but the smile slipped into a sneer. "On account of you killing me while my back was turned, like the coward I've always known you to be."

Before he knew it, there was a fist through Sibes rib cage, just like he'd last seen him all those years before. His chest dared swell, relief that the ordeal could be over so quickly.

"I don't care about your monologue," Bulla hissed, face-to-face while she stared into icy grey orbs with cold-hearted disdain only a royal could produce.

"So fast," Sibe gasped, gripping her penetrating forearm. "I must watch out for you. It took them years to reach this level, even with all my toys."

"Well none of them are the daughter of Prince Vegeta, are they?" she smirked sinisterly.

Bulla, no!

Now Sibe was the one to smirk, lowering his lids as he loosened his grasp. Bulla's confidence slowly began to fade as she floated backwards in building disbelief. There was no blood on her hand. Not even a beating organ between her fingers.

Both fighters watched, mortified as the gaping hole at Sibe's breast closed itself, not unlike the process Raditz had just observed with the creation of The Colossus.

"You have no heart!" she yelled.

Sibe's shoulders shook as he let out a snicker. "Some might argue I've never had one." He gave a knowing look to Raditz. "But that's just hurtful. Speaking of which."

Raditz slapped his hand to his chest, wheezing as he dropped a palm to the floor.

"What are you doing to him?!" Bulla cried, golden eyebrows converging in worry. "Stop!"

Don't, Raditz urged, though unable to use his voice. Don't let him learn anything more.

Bulla pounded her fists on Sibe's sleek armour, even throwing a kick in for good measure. He remained unmoved but quirked an eyebrow at her performance.

Raditz let out an exhale when the torment stopped, quickly getting back to his feet while his heart pounded against his ribs. When Bulla threw both hands to her throat, eyes bulging, he knew the real torture was far from over.

No...He was forced to watch as Bulla fought for oxygen, skin beginning to flush. If I could just catch him off guard like last time…

He launched for the diminutive tyrant, landing a punch right through his skull. You may have foregone your heart somehow, but everyone needs a brain to operate. Two-thirds of Sibe's face was missing, leaving nothing more than a chin, half a jaw and a single ear.

The Kaiser let out an exhale. There.

But as before, there was no blood. Or tissue. And Sibe's face reconstructed right back to its prior form, to Raditz' absolute horror.

Once repaired, Sibe let out a hearty laugh, bringing both dainty hands to his mouth. "Oh my goodness. Just as dense as I remember," he cackled. "Yes, we'll definitely need to throw some smarter genes in there to even things out."

Bulla fell out of her transformation as her face turned blue.

"I have a theory," Sibe began, eyes still closed as he brought his short arms behind his back. "Now, bear with me here because it's rather outlandish." Opening a single eye, he glanced at the Kaiser.

Bulla drifted to Sibe's side, the whites of her eyes now a disturbing red, still clutching her throat. When he finally released his mental grip on her neck, she sucked in an urgent breath.

"I didn't recognise you at first." He shifted his left hand and rested it on her back. "But we've met before." Sibe turned his head while he took her appearance in carefully. "Haven't we sweetheart."

She didn't answer, keeping her lips stiffly pressed.

"What a curious thing you are," he commented, tilting his head in interest as he stroked his chin. "I've always had a preference for the refined. Can you tell?"

Raditz could see her shaking as she fought through the effects of his telekinesis.

"As for my theory." His unsettling smile returned.

Raditz gasped as he fell back to the ground, eyeballs on the verge of bursting while his body quivered uncontrollably.

"Stop hurting him, please!" he heard Bulla beg. He managed to lift his head just enough to see her face. Blue eyes were glassy as her lids welled.

Tears. For me?

"Hmm," Sibe audibly considered. "Raditz, my puppet. I know she's a picture, but look at me, will you?"

Raditz' neck went so stiff, it could have snapped as he attempted to resist the compulsion. Begrudgingly, he met the gaze of his once-overlord, seething with fury.

"That was a dirty trick you and Turles played on me. It really hurt my feelings." Sibe pouted dramatically, "I've always known exactly what I was going to do once we were finally reunited," but his soulless eyes were beginning to sparkle. "Today is the day. So I leave you with a message."

Raditz looked to Bulla with visceral worry as she stifled a cry, tensing her jaw while she squeezed her lids shut. What is he doing to her?

"Crush my heart." Sibe dropped all pretence as he glared viciously at the tethered Kaiser. "And I'll crush yours."

The second he felt his binds release, he leapt for the princess, swiping at her middle, but all he reached was an after-image.

The last thing he heard was a feminine scream before the two disappeared into nothingness.

"BULLA!"