Chapter 51- Breeding

The mysterious one-eyed Saiyan stared up at the emperor's booth, mouth set into a feral smirk. Blood was splattered across his dark clothing and face, and his opponent's severed head was still hanging from his fist. He looked positively wild.

High up in the emperor's booth, separated from the rest of the spectators, Emperor Hui was giddy with excitement.

"Look at him, Fenn!" He said clapping merrily at the show. "Look at how powerful he is. He took that man's head off with one chop, and he was one of the elites." He flopped back into his seat, and laced his fingers across his stomach. With a wide grin, he looked up at his right hand. "Just wait until I let him loose in my harem. We'll have a whole army of Saiyans."

"Oh, so that's your master plan?" Fenn asked, leaning casually against the railing that overlooked the ring. The bright sunlight shone behind him but did not quite penetrate the emperor's box, rendering the tall, slender man only a silhouette. "I was wondering why you were letting so many of your elites get slaughtered."

"Oh, who cares about them when I've got him?" Hui replied, waving a careless hand.

"You do realize that he's not loyal to you." Fenn pointed out.

"The man's got nothing. I'm going to give him everything his heart desires…including a harem." Hui fixed Fenn with a cocky look. "And you doubt whether or not he'll be loyal to me?"

Fenn's response began with a snort. "It's times like this when you remind me that you truly aren't a man yet."

"How dare you talk to me that way, Fenn." Hui straightened in his seat and puffed out his chest. "I am a man, and I'll show you if you need proof."

"No, no keep your pants on." He said with a chuckle. "I'm perfectly aware that you've got man parts. What I meant was that you don't have the mind of a man. You're still a child in all ways except physically. You think a man will give up his freedom for sex and money? A spoiled brat who grew up with no concept of life and the universe around him would perhaps," He sent a significant look to Hui, who just pouted and looked away. "But not a grown man. And certainly not that one."

Hui raised an eyebrow and looked at Fenn, squinting to try to see his face in the shadow. "So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that man's not going to breed an army of half-Saiyan's for you." He said simply, before turning away and mumbling. "At least not willingly. You'll be lucky if he sticks around for another month."

"Damn it, Fenn! Why didn't you say any of this sooner? Look!" He gestured in wild irritation to the ring where the Saiyan in question had just tossed down the severed head and was stalking out of the stadium. "He just killed one of my elites!"

Fenn just rolled his eyes. "So he did." He agreed, and then smiled slightly. Few people knew it, but the Empire would have crumbled long ago if not for Fenn. While Hui's power held it all together, he was too immature to hold an empire. Fenn was the real mastermind behind the empire. He was the person standing off to the side, planting ideas in Hui's head and speaking reason when needed; holding him back when he would overextend, and coaching him to be patient.

Fenn was sharp. He could peg people's characters down, and something about the Saiyan down there told him that despite his harsh, dark persona, there was a certain nobility in him. In any case, however ruthless he man be, the man seemed lonely—desperate even—and Fenn couldn't imagine him abandoning whatever precious kin he might find to servitude—even if it was a hypothetical brat he'd never meet.

He glanced back to Hui, who was glowering down into the ring where people started moving from their seats to take in the sights at the festival down below during the break.

Fenn chuckled lightly at his petulant emperor before turning away. "If it makes you feel any better, if you find the right young lady, I'm sure he'd produce a few half-Saiyans." He scratched his nose. "Might not give them to you though."

Hui's ears perked up, but before he could turn to respond, Fenn was gone.

"Ugh." Hui slouched down in his chair. "Why does he always have such an attitude?"


The bright sun had dropped below the horizon, casting the sky in a dark green before finally succumbing to black. Unfamiliar constellations shone down on the ancient stone capital city of Loth. Hui's dark fortress loomed just outside of the atmosphere like shadow, blocking out the starlight in a large patch of sky to the west. The space-fortress would be nearly empty now. Most of the inhabitants were still down below, on planet Loth, enjoying the festival that had sprung up around the tournament.

Despite the late hour, spectacle-goers of all stripes were still wandering the cobblestone streets, munching exotic food, pausing here and there to watch the dancers and musicians that performed in the streets. Many of the visitors were foreign dignitaries, royalty, nobles, and diplomats from the many planets in the Tauran Intergalactic Kingdom. Others were Tik soldiers, their black and gray uniforms seeming drab and boring against the bright colors that the foreign nobles wore.

One of the nobles in attendance was Ethward, the young king of Mantioch, the very man who had betrayed the Krimzon, selling their greatest fighter out to the Tik, and changing the course of the war. With his sister, Anastis, and his new wife, Vitora trailing behind him, the lace-clad young king wound his way through the festival, talking loudly over the noises, and laughing merrily at all the sights.

The mantis-like man paused for a moment at a puppet show, pointing it out to his Vitora. The woman smiled shyly, clearly still ill-at-ease around her new husband. Behind the pair, Anastis, looking ill and flighty, only frowned and looked around nervously as if she might be attacked at any moment. Ethward merely ignored her as he had been doing for months. It mattered not to him if she would have preferred to stay with the Krimzon Empire. Nor did it matter to any of the other Mantisi. The opinions of women never factored into any important decisions—nor should they in his opinion.

For a moment, Ethward's eyes rose, catching sight of a light in the window of the castle tower. Who would be cooped up inside when there was such fun to be had? He wondered. A moment later, he had shrugged off the thought and headed on down the street to where high notes of an exotic lute were originating.

Away from the music, away from the fun, high above the glowing, festive city, the large, stone castle sat. In a room on the eastern tower, a light shone brightly. Within the room, the Saiyan prince sat, oblivious of his "acquaintance" on the street below. He was stretched out on his silken bed, legs crossed at the ankles, and a stack of fluffy pillows at his back. An empty cup sat abandoned on the table beside the bed, and Vegeta sat staring at the screen of his small computer. The occasional shift in the wind would bring the sounds of the festival and the smells of the food into his room, and despite his general dislike of festivals, he would much prefer to be down there.

His was a boring task, but it was nonetheless an important one. The long drapes covering his window were pulled shut shielding him from potential onlookers. A fire roared in the fireplace across the room, banishing the slight chill that had fallen with the night. His Ki senses were on alert, and his ears were perked for any sounds in the hallway or outside of his room window.

With a jaw-cracking yawn, he sped through the footage, looking for a spot where the blueprints had been stretched out in good view on the table. He'd been at this for nearly an hour, and so far he had come up with nothing. He'd come straight back after his second match of the day. It had been a boring match against an opponent who relied on speed and Ki blasts—both things that Vegeta excelled at. Vegeta had toyed with the man a bit, but then had gotten tired of playing and fired a Ki blast straight through his chest.

A sudden prickling in his Ki sense pulled Vegeta from his reverie, and he glanced toward the door.

Yes, he was definitely coming toward him.

With swift hands, Vegeta snapped the computer shut and tucked it beneath his pillow. Taking one last glance around the room to make sure nothing was in sight, he stretched out on the bed and laced his fingers behind his head. A moment later, a knock sounded, and the door swung open.

Vegeta glanced over to the doorway to see Fenn standing there with a very pretty, silk-clad, humanoid young woman at his side. Vegeta didn't move except to raise an eyebrow at the pair.

If Fenn was bothered by Vegeta's attitude, he didn't let on. "Hui has sent me here to tactfully introduce this young lady to you in hopes that you will mate her and produce a small army of half-Saiyans for him." Fenn announced.

Vegeta's jaw dropped open slightly and he stared. For some reason his brain seemed to not be working, for he thought Fenn had said…

Fenn leaned against the doorframe with a smirk, clearly amused by Vegeta's reaction. "Hui has assured me," He continued. "That she is an excellent cook, a virgin, and has good…" He glanced down to his hand where Vegeta could see that he'd scribbled some words. "knockers and handles…" He read flatly before adding. "Whatever that's supposed to mean."

Vegeta snorted out a laugh, staring on astounded as Fenn turned wryly to him for his response. Feeling distinctly uncomfortable laying down, he pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed.

The mortified young woman stood silently near the doorway looking as though she would have gladly dived out of the tower window at that moment.

Vegeta glanced between the two again, but try as he might, he could not produce a single logical explanation for what was happening. The scenario was too ridiculous. He even missed Kurenai at that moment. At least she hadn't tried to breed him. He choked a laugh. "You're joking right?"

Fenn dropped his hand to his side and smirked in amusement. "I wish I were. Would you two like to get to know each other?" He asked sardonically.

Vegeta just stared, trying to push away his astounded hilarity. He took one look at the girl—at her terrified pleading eyes—and wondered what would happen if he said no. But still…There had to be some way out of it. "What race are you?" He asked her. "You're clearly no Saiyan."

"I'm K'talian." She answered in a voice that was hardly more than a whisper.

"Oh come on. You're not going to be on about that 'racial purity' thing, are you?" Fenn asked. "That went out of style years ago, and all the other Saiyans have half-breed brats. Even the prince."

He scowled at that, wondering how long he could put off taking a mate without it being suspicious. The 'Saiyans-don't-mate-non-Saiyans' argument was his best one, and he himself had screwed that up. He had to put up some kind of fight though—if only for Bulma's sake. "I'll…think about it." He finally answered. "Send her home and make sure she lives."

Fenn cocked an eyebrow, but nodded as if confirming something that he'd already suspected. "Certainly." He turned and swaggered slowly out of the room, chuckling. With a look of relieved gratitude the young woman followed. As the door was closing, he heard Fenn say laughingly to the woman. "I get paid for this. Can you believe it?"

Vegeta stared at the door for a few moments before moving over to the doorframe that Fenn had been leaning against. He leaned down studying it closely before looking at the door. No, Fenn hadn't planted anything there. Nor had the girl. So that had been real.

Vegeta huffed, not knowing whether to be amused or disturbed at Hui's plans for him. Deciding that he would figure it out later, he pulled the computer from under his pillow and opened it again. He was determined to get this done before he went to sleep. He'd have to hurry if he was going to sleep at all. His next match was the first one in the morning.


Bulma's guide met her on the platform below the palace, and after a brief word of greeting ushered her into the elevator and up toward the giant labyrinth that was Kurenai's palace. It had come as a bit of a surprise to her when the message had come, just after lunch, that the Krimzon Empress had personally requested her presence.

Bulma had been permitted to leave immediately to see what the call was for. She would have been alarmed. In fact, her heart had leapt to her throat when she'd heard that Kurenai had sent her a message, and she'd felt she might be sick. Images of old war-time movies had flashed into her head: a wife, standing on her front porch, handed a message by the army men telling of her husband's noble death on the field of battle.

Worse still were the images that had quickly followed—that day on the Lookout. Goku's solemn face. The shattering truth that her husband had been killed. The terror that she would live for decades, and that he wouldn't be there.

The note had been placed into her shaking hand, and reluctantly she'd opened it. Upon reading the message, she'd been instantly relieved. It had given no specifics really, except that Kurenai "had something" for her. No devastating news, and not even the barest hint that that news was to come. She'd breathed a sigh of relief and quickly made her way out of the labs.

It was the second time she'd see Kurenai's throne room. Bulma was not prone to nervousness, but, even despite her assurance that everything would be fine, something about the tall, dark doors, the dark stone hallways, and the extraordinarily powerful stranger that sit in wait of her made her stomach clench. Or perhaps that was just the little present Vegeta had left behind with her.

That lightened her mood considerably, and despite her nervousness, she couldn't help but smile at the thought of the tiny life growing within her.

She glanced up at her guide, as if he might share in her joy, but the stiff-backed man hadn't glanced once at her since they had left the train platform. Part of her was glad of that, as it let her get lost in her thoughts on the long, winding walk to the throne room.

She wondered how Vegeta would take the news. Hopefully his reaction would be a bit better this time around. He hadn't been particularly thrilled when she'd told him she was pregnant with Trunks after all.

The memory of that rather grisly encounter had made Tarble's reaction seem all the more bizarre. That broad excited smile and enthusiastic questions seemed so out of place coming from a person who looked exactly like her husband. The younger Saiyan prince's excitement had only been second to Trunks'.

If she didn't know what it looked like to see her son levitate she would have sworn that he'd been floating a foot off the ground ever since she'd told him. The knowledge that he was going to be a big brother had brought him such pride. That broad grin, such a light on his handsome face, still hadn't disappeared, and it had been three days already.

She understood his excitement. She was excited as well, but her excitement seemed somewhat dampened by her loneliness and sadness that Vegeta wasn't here to share in her joy.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, fighting back the knot that had formed in her throat. She shook her head and forced herself to think about her son's excitement instead.

Bulma had known for a while now that Trunks wanted a sibling, but she had been satisfied with her family and had toyed with the idea of having a second child only rarely. On the occasions that she brought the idea up with Vegeta, his reaction had been less than encouraging.

She frowned. It was impossible not to think about him. It was such a life-changing thing, and he was Dende-knew-where on some top secret mission. It made her heart clench at the thought and all the foreboding ones that came along with it. What if…

What if he never came back? Kurenai and Midori had made no illusions of how dangerous his mission was. Wherever he was, his life was in peril, and one false step could mean the end.

Bulma bit her lip, turning her gaze to the pictures that lined the hallway of Kurenai's palace. They were lovely paintings, done with extraordinary skill. She would have almost thought they were windows. She tried to focus on them, but despite herself, her thoughts kept straying. What if she ended up like Chichi all those years ago? Alone with Trunks and a newborn that Vegeta would never know about—a child who would only hear about its father in stories. Those stories wouldn't be near as numerous or as favorable as the ones told of Goku during Goten's childhood. Not many of their friends really knew Vegeta. They didn't know him the way she knew him. The way Trunks knew him.

She shook her head again as they reached the broad hall that led to Kurenai's throne room. He would come back. He had to come back. She was sure of it, he told herself. Vegeta had been sent on his mission because Kurenai knew that he could do it. She knew he would succeed—at whatever it was he was doing.

And since she was sure of that, now her only real concern was how he would take the news once he got back. Sure those times she'd asked him before, he wasn't completely against the idea. He rather liked the notion of a lineage. He had so much as told her once that she was free to have as many children as she chose as long as she did not expect him to interact with it until it was of training age. At the time, though, that hadn't seemed like enough for her.

And so she'd put it off, knowing that she wanted another child, but not wanting to push it until he was ready to willingly play a role in its life.

They finally reached the giant double doors that led to the throne room. Two guards standing before it moved aside, and the doors swung open of their own accord to allow her to enter. The guide stepped aside as well and motioned her inside.

Taking a deep breath, Bulma entered, feeling tiny in the huge circular room. In an instant, Tarble was at her side, a broad grin on his face.

"This way." He said, nodding toward where Kurenai and Midori were leaning over something on a table at the far end of the room.

Bulma took one look at the silly grin—also out of place on Vegeta's face. "Oh good. It's not bad news then."

"No, no." Tarble assured her. "It's really good news actually."

"What news?"

They were close enough to the table then for Kurneai and Midori to hear him. "We got a message from Vegeta last night." Midori informed her with a small smile on her face.

"Really?" Bulma leaned over to look at the screen, furrowing her eyebrows at the sight of the only vaguely familiar characters there. "Is that…?"

"Saiyago." Kurenai confirmed. "Vegeta and Tarble are the only two people in the universe who can read it. It's the perfect code."

"So what does he say?" She asked eagerly.

"Well first." Tarble said, leaning down to look at the screen. "He says that he's safe so if the 'woman' and the 'boy' were thinking of being sappy and ridiculous, to tell them…or you rather," He said glancing at Bulma. "Not to waste your time. Because he's perfectly fine."

She smiled at that. "Is that all?"

"Oh no. Certainly not." Kurenai said. "There's much more. And that's why I called you here." She reached over and pressed a button, and suddenly a large screen appeared out of nowhere.

Bulma started in surprise and took a step back. The screen seemed to come to life and suddenly, she was staring at a page of blueprints. "Hm?" She squinted her eyes and cocked her head as she studied all the symbols and formulae written in the margins. Whatever the object was it was transferring energy from the same stone used in the Meiyochi. But it almost appeared as though it was doing the opposite of what the Meiyochi might do.

"Is this…" She paused and looked back at the other three people in the room. To her slight discomfort, they were all staring at her.

"We think we know what it is." Midori told her. "Vegeta says you should know for sure."

"From what I can gather, it reverses the effects of the Meiyochi." Bulma said, far more confidently than she felt.

"Exactly." Kurenai said with a grin as if that confirmation was all she'd needed. "This," She motioned back to the blueprints. "Is your new project. I would like seven of them to start with. As soon as possible." She suddenly narrowed her eyes at Bulma, studying her. For the briefest of seconds they widened, before her face returned to normal. "I assume that your condition will limit the number of hours you can comfortably spend in the lab. I will have a team assigned to you."

"I…thank you." She said, unsure of how she felt about that.

"I will have these blueprints sent to you in your lab. They will be there for you tomorrow morning." She said. "That will be all for today. Tarble can escort you home if you like." She turned and began walking back to her throne. "Be sure to look like the thrilled couple you are." She called back over her shoulder, before suddenly stopping and turning to Tarble. "Within reason." She corrected, and then walked off again.

Bulma and Tarble stared after her for a moment, but neither was going to argue with getting to go home early. With conspiratorial smiles, they turned and hurriedly left before Kurenai changed her mind.

Just after the doors had fallen shut, Midori turned to Kurneai with a curious look. "What was all that about?"

Kurenai looked at her in surprise, realizing that what had been plainly evident to her—even without the use of her magic—had left her protégé completely oblivious. "Midori, you have much to learn." Was all she said before calling a stack of reports over to her and beginning to read through them.

Midori pouted and turned to stare curiously toward the closed doors.


Vegeta yawned, a large, jaw-cracking yawn, momentarily drowning out the sound of the cheering crowd. His match that morning had been nothing spectacular. His opponent had relied on brute strength alone to win his battles. There was no craft, no real skill, and when it came down to it, Vegeta had been stronger.

Sure, he had nearly had to turn Super Saiyan—something that had rather surprised him given that that caliber of fighter had been nearly unheard of in the universe only twenty years ago—but he had eventually ended the match in a crushing blow that had come just short of killing his opponent. It hadn't been quite as easy as he'd thought, and he had been on the verge of transforming quite a few times. He had managed with a simple trick, speed, and illusion—the after-image trick that he'd picked up from the Earth fighters. While the man had sent a punch straight through the face of the image, Vegeta had appeared behind him, sending a round-house kick to his temple.

With the man collapsed in a twitching heap on the tiled ring and the crowd roaring around him, Vegeta had walked calmly out of the stadium. Uncaring of the crowd's enthusiasm, he had made a beeline for his temporary rooms in the old palace to catch up on a few hours of sleep.

He had finally found the files and sent them to Iro just as the sun was rising earlier that morning, and he had only had enough time to grab something to eat before he'd had to head down to his match—unfortunately the first match of the day. He he had been lucky in his opponent. Despite his surprising strength, he'd supposedly been one of the weakest that had made it into the semifinals. Had the man been just a little stronger, or a little craftier, Vegeta may not have been able to think fast enough to hold his own without going Super Saiyan. It led him to worry about what he would do in his next matches.

His nap hadn't been enough. Five hours after landing face-down on his bed, a knock sounded on the door, and a messenger appeared telling him that the final match of that round was under way and that the semifinals would start as soon as it finished. Unfortunately, Vegeta's was in the first bracket.

He'd arrived in the sunny courtyard just in time to see the end of the match. It finished with a knock out due to some strange burst of invisible energy, and the tall, hooded warrior glared around at the crowd before stalking stonily out of the ring. He passed straight by Vegeta as he entered the courtyard, leaving the air tingling with a dark energy that made Vegeta's skin prickle. Vegeta's eyes followed him as he made his way to the edge of the courtyard and sat down in the shade.

Disinterested, Vegeta turned back to stare on in boredom as the medics ran in and scooped the unconscious loser of the match onto a stretcher.

"Rough night?" A smug voice asked from just behind him.

Vegeta nearly groaned. One of these days he was going to sense Fenn before he snuck up behind him. "No." He said. When had he gotten there?

"Dreams about a certain lady keep you up?" Fenn asked with a smirk. "Have you changed your mind about her? Just so you know, of course, Hui has told me that you are to have free reign in his harem. I would have told you sooner, but I figured you weren't the type."

Vegeta merely blinked in surprise, finally turning to glance at Fenn. The man was dressed in his usual dark leather and chains, with the only real color on him being his shock of maroon hair.

Not the type for a harem of women? Vegeta mused. Is such a thing possible? But even as he thought that, a sense of dirtiness came over him, and with it the stark memory of his younger days as Frieza's soldier, hearing of the other soldiers boasting of their harem privileges. He'd never earned the right himself—no matter what his military prowess, Frieza was nothing if not terrified of the idea that Vegeta might breed. And with good reason as it turned out.

He couldn't help the small smirk that came onto his face then.

Fenn noticed the smirk. "Perhaps I was wrong." He mused.

Vegeta shook his head both in the negative and to rearrange his thoughts. Fenn was right. No matter what he'd thought about it in his younger days, he had seen the girls in the harem. Young women stolen from their homes because of their beauty or breeding quality—just as those Tik soldiers had threatened to do to Videl when they'd first landed on Earth. Those girls' faces had stayed with him. Those faces with the haunted eyes, deadened from being trapped in a miserable life, holding on just enough to a far-fetched hope that one day they'd be free—just enough hope to stop them from ending it all. He'd thought nothing of it back then, but years later, as a man, free and living on Earth, he finally realized why those eyes had stayed with him. They were the eyes of someone trapped. A prisoner. A slave.

They'd been his own eyes.

No. No matter what he had been before, he could not do to another what was done to him. He could not take part in crushing another person's soul. Of dehumanizing them, and turning them into chattel, with no rights and no say in even the most basic aspects of their lives.

He shuddered at the thought.

Unfortunately for him, Fenn saw the shudder. He was starting to see that Fenn rarely missed anything. It was doubly difficult to hide things from him, Vegeta was finding, when he was the center of his focus. His perspective had shifted a bit since he had come into Hui's "employ." His real enemy in this particular mission was not Hui. It was Fenn.

"You know, I think I've got it now." Fenn said. "I knew you didn't really want that woman last night, but that you didn't want to outright say it. I won't tell Hui your little secret, but you'll have to figure out some way to breed. No matter how distasteful it is to you."

Vegeta blinked at him, and a sudden nervousness began curling in his stomach. He didn't let on however, how Fenn's statement had set him on edge. Instead he merely raised an eyebrow. "You've lost me." He said. "What are you on about?"

Fenn gave him a Cheshire grin as if he'd caught Vegeta with his hand in the cookie jar. "You prefer men don't you?"

Vegeta just blinked, and a rush of relief came over him. Suddenly, he saw a way out. "If I…agree with you, can we forget about this harem and mate business?"

"No." Fenn said. "I'll just come to your room in the middle of the night, with strapping young men who are good cooks. And a potential surrogate mother most likely."

Vegeta just sighed, but he couldn't help but see some humor in the proposal.

"We have to keep you happy." Fenn said with a humorous grin. "Just let me know" He waved his hands grandly like a magician about to do a trick. "All your preferences and fantasies. Hell, I could get you one of those Earthlings the other Saiyans are so crazy about." He furrowed his eyebrows at the thought. "I probably should have done that in the first place."

Vegeta internally cringed. If Hui decided to capture an Earth woman for Vegeta to mate with, all of his efforts at keeping the Earth safe thus far would come to naught. "I know nothing of Earth women." Vegeta said after a suitable pause. "Nor do I want one that is chosen for me. I do not want a K'talian or a Zortian—"

Fenn snorted. "No one wants a Zortian."

Vegeta just scowled. "My point is. If and when I choose a mate is my own business, and until I have proof that there are no more Saiyan women alive, I will not settle for another."

Fenn dropped his head with a groan. "All that Saiyan woman stuff again." He was clearly about to say something more, but a loud music started to play in the stadium, cutting him off. Fenn looked up toward the ring. "Oh, it's your match."

Vegeta was already staring toward the ring, where the announcer had just begun giving a grand speech about the prowess of the fighters thus far and gearing everyone up for the excitement that the semifinal round would bring.

"I expect you to be my opponent in the final match." Fenn said, a hint of warning in his voice. "So don't throw it."

"I'll be in the final match." Vegeta said, and then sent a conspicuous glance toward the silent, hooded soldier still sitting silent like a shadow in the corner of the courtyard. He was to be Fenn's opponent in the semifinal round. "Will you?" He asked.

Fenn merely rolled his eyes. "I could take him out in my sleep." His piercing eyes settled on Vegeta, and Vegeta had the disturbing feeling that he was seeing more than he should. "He's got nothing on you, my Saiyan friend."

Despite the sudden fear that was urging him to kill Fenn and destroy all evidence of it, he smirked. "Of course he doesn't. No one can compete with a Saiyan. Not even you." With that, he turned and stalked up toward the ring.

His opponent was already there, waiting impatiently on the other side. He paused for a moment in surprise. A woman? He smirked. I was worried for nothing. Cocky smirk still on his face, he marched up the steps and into the ring. The crowd was already roaring in delight, and a chant of "Nox!" was picking up.

He had quickly become a favorite—Hui had made it no secret that this tournament was a test for him, and so far Vegeta had not disappointed. A mix of power, grace, and brutality all in perfect balance came naturally to him. Even he knew that it was impressive.

He drew his eyes away from the crowd and to his opponent. The woman across from him was thin and bird-like, with a peaky face, and a shock of red and orange hair atop her head. She stared at him in grim determination, and Vegeta stared casually back.

She was powerful—surprisingly so, he could sense it—but he was stronger. She would have to have something else up her sleeve if she was to pose a challenge to him.

The announcer introduced them both, and then stepped back. His hand rose to the air, and then with the sound of a gong, it dropped.

As the hand fell, a slow smirk worked its way onto the woman's face. It was an unsettling look, and Vegeta knew instantly that she had something. A moment later, he would find out what. Her smirk snapped into a grin, and, to his surprise, she completely disappeared. And not in the way that Kakarott did it. She did not disappear and then reappear somewhere else. No, she simply vanished. And she took her Ki with her.

He spun around searching for her, her Ki. Anything. Where are you?

Crunch!

"Ack!" A painful blow to his side sent him stumbling. It was far more painful than anything he would have expected from such a fighter. She's still here!

He still couldn't sense her. At all.

"You may think you're something Saiyan, but I have an advantage over you." A voice rang inside his head, like someone whispering in his ear. "You are a loner, a nobody, with no one to fight for. Me, I fight with all the rage of my imprisoned people."

Vegeta spun, still seeing nothing, despite turning in circles to try to find his opponent.

"My race has been hunted for decades by more powerful creatures." She spat into his head. "The Saiyans, the Kold Clan, and then the Taurans. Our planet was finally taken, but not before we developed a technique to avoid all detection. Even a scouter can't pick up on us. The Taurans have no idea how many of my people they left alive on my planet. I intend to free them all."

Vegeta closed his eyes straining to pick up on the sound of her footsteps, the rustle of her clothes. It was impossible with the screams of the thousands of people in the stands.

"I need this, Saiyan." The voice came again. "You can't understand. I have to defeat you. My necessity is my weapon. Your defeat gets me one step closer to finally buying our freedom."

"And how will you do that?" He asked aloud.

"Hush, Saiyan. I wouldn't expect a creature like you to understand the workings of the empire. I'm sure you know the winner of this tournament becomes Hui's right-hand, with the unique privilege of manipulating the emperor. Fenn has managed to keep his people free of Hui's screenings for all these years."

"So you intend to defeat Fenn as well." He guessed. "And trade his planet for yours."

"Among other things." The voice whispered vaguely.

The slightest shift in air caught his attention and made him duck away, out of instinct, his hand shot up to catch the incoming blow. To his slight surprise the blow landed, just where he'd instinctively expected it would—right in his hand. His fingers instantly locked over the fist.

"I don't know how you became invisible, but I will defeat you." Vegeta promised. "Make no mistake."

"Ha!" Her foot, flying out of nowhere, crashed into his face, and his fingers lost their grip.

"Ragh!" With a yell of rage, he caught his balance and spun around. He'd lost his opponent again, he realized with frustration. "I don't care about your family problems!" He shouted. "They can all die for all I care!"

Another crushing blow hit him then, straight to the kidneys. He groaned in pain and spun around again, throwing a punch into the air where his opponent should have been. Only she wasn't there.

He growled. "Coward!"

He felt another disturbance in the air, and spun, letting his fist fly. The fist connected and he felt flesh and bone give way. The woman cried out in pain, but he didn't give her time to so much as fall down. His other hand shot forward, gripping onto invisible garments and tugging them forward.

He wanted this to end now before the woman had time to pull another trick on him. With that in mind, he pulled back his hand, and packing as much power as he could into it, let it fly forward. Something wet splattered his face, and a moment later a visible woman was hanging limp from his hand, and a purplish-colored blood was dripping from her crushed face onto the tiles. She was still alive. Whether she would survive much longer, he didn't know. A sudden flash of guilt hit him fighting back his rage. That woman hadn't been his enemy. Not really. She was just a victim of circumstance. Like he had been. Like he still was actually. Rather than giving her a finishing blow, he dropped her unceremoniously onto the ring.

She had been wrong. He was fighting for something—for something much more important than her. She was fighting for the salvation of her people, of her own race. He was fighting to save them all.

He sent a hooded glance to Fenn as he reentered the courtyard and took up his previous position near the wall. The man smirked and sent him what might have been interpreted as a congratulatory nod.

"Wish me luck, Saiyan!" He called cheerily to Vegeta. Vegeta merely cocked an eyebrow. Fenn chuckled. "Time me." He said with a wink, and then headed into the stadium.

Vegeta frowned in confusion. Time him? What?

The tall, hooded warrior brushed by him again, making his way into the stadium as well. That same, dark tingly feeling lingered in the air behind him. That man was hiding a dark power. Vegeta could tell. He might even be a challenge.

The announcer raised his arm. A gong sound, and the arm dropped. The match was under way.

What happened next left even Vegeta staring slack-jawed in surprise.

The hooded man moved first, bringing his arms around in an arc. An enormous purple aura exploded around him, blowing the announcer back and out of the ring. Two giant long-swords appeared, one in each hand, and he raised them both to strike.

However, before he could take even the first step, Fenn struck.

A shockwave rippled through the crowd followed by a deafening roar. Vegeta felt as if time slowed then. His eyes, used to high-speed fighting, had barely caught the attack.

By the time the shockwave died down, Fenn was already stalking back toward the courtyard. The hooded man tottered and slowly collapsed. Thousands of fans in the stands, whose eyes hadn't been capable of catching the rapid flurry of punches and the final kick, sat bewildered at how quickly the match ended.

"Did you time it?" Fenn asked, as he reached Vegeta's side again.

"No." He said.

"About three seconds." Fenn provided.

"Sort of anti-climatic." Vegeta countered.

Fenn just shrugged. "Our fight will last longer I'm sure."

"Undoubtedly it will." Vegeta agreed.

Fenn grinned and turned away. "Then I'll see you tomorrow morning. Rest well." He said with a wave over his shoulder. "I want you at top form."

"No you don't." Vegeta grumbled, more to himself than to Fenn, but judging by Fenn's laugh, he could tell that he heard it. Even so, Vegeta wasn't so sure. Just how powerful was Fenn? That momentary burst of power had been completely unexpected. Defeating Fenn might be more challenging than he'd previously thought, and that brought about an even greater concern. If Fenn was that strong…


"Holy crap! How strong it Hui?" Yamcha exclaimed. "That guy's aura was massive, and that Fenn guy took him out in a matter of seconds. He didn't even break a sweat!"
Beside him, Krillin was looking positively green. "He can't be that strong." Krillin said hopefully. "I mean, he won't be another Majin Buu…right?" He looked around at his friends, all crammed into the small control room.

Snack wrappers and drink bottles littered the consoles and floor, and the heavy traffic that the room was getting was leaving a distinct unpleasant odor. The room was slightly warmer than was comfortable as well. Goku had already given up on propriety and begun walking around in his boxer shorts. Krillin had half a mind to do the same.

Gohan was staring thoughtfully at the screen. "Given the trillions of people in the universe, it's statistically possible. And remember that Hui was basically genetically engineered to be the strongest warrior in the universe. I wouldn't rule anything out." He said.

Beside him, Goku was grinning. "He's fantastic! I'm sure Hui will be impressive too, but man!" He stuck his hands on his hips and shook his head in awed excitement. "I can't wait to see him fight this Nox guy. It's really going to be a show." He leaned over to see the tournament schedule on the nearby computer screen. "When is the final match anyway?"

"Not for another 18 hours—on the time on that planet." Piccolo said.

"I'll set an alarm for it." Gohan suggested. "We should definitely watch it. We will probably end up fighting those two at some point. It's better to know their styles and techniques."

"It's too bad we couldn't watch it in person. Gohan, how long until we get to Loth again?"

Gohan had to repress a sigh. Goku had been asking that nearly every hour since the tournament started. Just for show, he glanced at his wristwatch. "About eight days, dad." He said. He seriously debated drawing up a calendar so that he could mark off the days. He wanted to, but part of him was nervous.

He supposed it was the human half of him, because his father was positively giddy at seeing Hui's massive power. Gohan couldn't help but feel like they were going in unprepared, like this was too much for them to handle.

He watched through worried eyes, as Goku tried to cheer Krillin and Yamcha up and get them as excited about fighting Hui as he was. Gohan wasn't sure there was something to be excited about. In only eight days, they would meet Emperor Hui. They would fight him, and most likely, someone would die.


A/N: So sorry about the wait. I've had loads of papers and presentations to work on lately, so I haven't had much time to devote to this. I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks to all of you who reviewed the last chapter. I really liked many your suggestions, and I'll see if I can work them in. I'm glad so many of you enjoyed seeing Vegeta's ruthless side again. That's always fun to write.

Let me know what you thought!