"I remember this place," Vegeta said, looking around. They had been teleported into a small canyon, the walls blackened by years of sparring matches and ki-powered explosions. A few hardy trees hung on, and a river timidly trickled through the center as if it were afraid of waking a giant. "The children liked to come out here, take out their aggression. Good times."

"You do know that this isn't your planet?" Ganos asked. The elfin agent was examining one of the impact craters, shaking his head. "It's not the one you grew up on."

"I know that," Vegeta said, glaring at him. "My planet was destroyed when I was still a boy. Give me a minute."

Ganos nodded slowly, and then backed away. Harmira ignored them, using the flat platform of a carbonized stump to methodically check the components of his weaponry. Despite his brutish appearance, the assassin was dexterous and delicate as he used tiny tools to make adjustments inside of each miniaturized cannon. Meanwhile, Lavender was staring at one of the cargo containers. He sniffed the air once again, and his eyes narrowed. He glanced back at Vegeta.

"Hey, fearless leader… do you have a son?" he asked. The response was faster than anything he had ever experienced. One arm bent behind him in a steel grip, his muzzle clamped shut with another immovable hand, the alien found himself whimpering with pain. The Saiyan brought his face close to the coyote-man's muzzle, eye-to-eye.

"You had better have a damn good reason for that question," Vegeta said. "Or I'm going to hurt you for asking about things that are none of your business. I'm going to release your jaws. If you even think about poison, I will kill you."

"N-no, that's okay," Lavender said, yellow eyes staring up at the angry Saiyan. Disconcerting Vegeta, he didn't seem particularly frightened. "Damn, that hurts. Boss, I was just going to tell you that you've got a couple of stowaways in that container over there. One of them kinda smells like you. In a familial way. It's hard to explain to you visual race types."

By the time Lavender had finished speaking; Vegeta was already walking briskly toward the container in question, scowling and muttering something under his breath. He banged on the hatch.

"If you're in there, come out," Vegeta said. He stood, arms folded in front of his chest, and waited.

"You were able to smell them?" Harmira called to Lavender. One of his eyes was squinted as he continued to calibrate his guns.

"Not very well, in that awful atmosphere the angel was making," Lavender said, grimacing. He flexed his arm experimentally, and winced at the jolt of pain from his abused joint. "In this natural atmosphere, it's like the container isn't even there. I could close my eyes and track every move you make."

As if to prove his point, the coyote-man shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. A soft hiss sounded, and then Lavender began to cough. He could hear the sound of Harmira's deep laughter and Ganos chuckling. Still coughing, he looked up to see Ganos holding a small aerosol canister.

"Breath spray," the agent said, grinning. The odor of some version of synthetic mint permeated the air. Lavender sneezed, and bared his teeth at the bird-man. At the same time, Vegeta finally got tired of waiting and wrenched the hatch open. The thick metal door bent and warped as if it was made of tissue paper. From inside, two surprised faces stared out at him.

"Hey Vegeta," Bulma said, trying to sound innocent.

"Hi Dad," said Trunks, also trying and failing miserably.

The Saiyan stared at them, his eyebrow twitching involuntarily. Then, ignoring their surprised yelps, he shut the ruined hatch and walked away.

DRAGON BALL EXODUS

Universe 15 Saga IV: Conditioned Responses

LIQUIIR

"Korn, what happened here?" the fox-god said, slowly observing the local stars. This was a stellar nursery last time I looked. Every once in a while, it spat out a protostar or something equally interesting. Now I just see red. It's like the boring parts of every galaxy. Big dumb red stars.

"I'm not quite sure, Liquiir-sama," Korn replied. He glanced at his staff, and shook his head. "I know that you are correct, but it otherwise feels as if it has always been this way."

"The reappearing planets, I was willing to deal with," Liquiir said. "But this is getting ridiculous. Is there anything on GodTube? Any announcement from High Priest-sama?"

"No," Korn replied. At that moment, the two of them noticed a pair of power signatures rapidly approaching at just below light speed. They resolved themselves into a well-coiffed angel with an arrogant expression and a large golden mecha encrusted with the jewel-marks of a god of destruction.

"What are you two doing here?" Liquiir asked as they entered his range. "Mule, there's no reason for you to be in my universe."

The robot answered with a short string of condensed binary. Camparri blinked, his expression faltering.

"Mule-sama says that this is his universe. I… have to concur. Is this not Universe Three?" the angel asked.

"No, brother. This is…" Korn trailed off, observing a series of readouts on his staff. He looked up, wearing a bemused expression. "Inconclusive. This area seems to share characteristics of Universe Three and Universe Eight."

"It's physically impossible for universes to touch, let alone overlap. That's not how it works," Liquiir said. Almost a billion years of service now, and I've never seen this before. There have been many crises. This is the first one that is actually affecting the entire multiverse. I don't like it. "Has there been any update from the team that we selected?"

Another burst of binary erupted from Mosco's speakers. Camparri turned to look at the robot, and then shook his head.

"No, Mule-sama," Camparri replied. "It is unlikely that they are already dead. I know you doubt the abilities of Maizcal-sama, but please understand – our sister has him on a very tight leash. Far tighter than any of us would ever apply to a… competent god of destruction."

"And for good reason," Korn said. He then nodded to his own god. "I have heard no news from the team, Liquiir-sama. It has been less than two days, we must give them time."

"One week from today. Remind me," Liquiir ordered. "I don't care how much time High Priest-sama has given him. I'm not going to sit back and watch while things get worse."

Another string of binary came from Mosco's speakers. This time, Camparri nodded confidently.

"Mule-sama says that our drone prototypes should be ready at about that time," Camparri said. "The Doctor has devoted all of his resources to it."

"This is good," Liquiir said. He took another look around the stellar wasteland. "Mule, what do we do about this?"

BULMA

"What was that all about? You warped the hatch so badly that it took us a half hour to get out again," Bulma said, glaring at her husband. Leaning against one of the scarred trees, Vegeta's eyes snapped open, and he glared back at her.

"I'm not even going to tell you that you shouldn't be here," Vegeta said. "I know you're not going to listen."

"We've had this conversation. It's not an issue of listening. You don't get to give me orders," Bulma said defiantly. He looked back at her, stone-faced.

"You being here is one more thing I have to worry about. Two more things," he said pointedly, glancing at Trunks. The boy was digging into one of the opened containers. "He can defend himself. You can't, not here. You're not piloting a stealth ship this time, and you can't call on Corporate resources."

"Do you honestly think I didn't come prepared? I have two full containers worth of equipment and supplies," she said.

"Enough to outlast an entire army of Saiyans?" Vegeta asked. Her expression faltered. "Because that is what we're up against. The corrupted Planet Vegeta is the seat of a Saiyan Empire. Much more dangerous than Frieza's organization. Trust me. I've seen a Saiyan feudal system at work."

For the first time in a long time, Bulma was caught off-guard. He's right. I didn't think about what could happen. I can't just make a call and out-think my opponent, or bluff it out. But… there's no way I'm just going to stand by. She stood lost in thought for a moment, and then looked up to see Vegeta holding the crystal that Atua had given him.

"We need to send you back," he said.

"No," she said.

"I can't guarantee that we'll be able to protect you," he said quietly. The tone of his voice immediately stopped her. He's serious. The last time I saw him that worried was… right before the Invasion. Did I actually go too far this time? "Bulma, a version of myself could be the Emperor. If it is true, then he could be like me, before I came to Earth."

"She's not going anywhere, and neither am I," a determined voice said. The two of them turned to see their son. Trunks had donned the battle-suit that Bulma had made for him, a miniature version of his father's. He wore a black backpack that had a small antenna sticking out from the top and non-lethal grenades of various types hooked onto his breastplate.

"She's not powerful enough," Vegeta said. "And you're not ready."

Trunks' response caught both of them off-guard. A sudden burst of energy flared at he transformed twice, his hair standing wildly and muscles thickening. He clenched one fist and glared at his father through the haze of golden ki.

"I turned Super Saiyan and fought Majin Buu in the first grade," Trunks said angrily. "And I literally went to war two weeks ago. How much more do I need to prove before I'm ready?"

As the golden eruption of ki spiraled into the sky above, his father stared at him in disbelief.

"Trunks – you just gave away our position to the entire planet," he said. His son, mortified, immediately dropped the transformation. "That's why you're not ready. You still act before you think. Maybe Kakarot lets his sons get away with that, but I do not."

"How soon before they come here?" Bulma asked, looking up at the blue, nearly cloudless sky. Vegeta glanced at her, and then turned to the three aliens who had been standing silently, watching their conversation.

"All of you, get ready to move. Now," Vegeta said. They quickly began gathering their own supplies. "Take what you can from the containers, we have to leave them."

"But… my equipment! I need to-" Bulma protested.

"I said, we're leaving them. And I changed my mind. You two are coming with us. If I send you back, you'll probably just find another way here," Vegeta growled. "You three! This is my wife, and son. If anything happens to either of them, you'll all be answering to me."

The three aliens stared at him silently for a moment.

"I'm not exactly a good bodyguard," Lavender said, hefting a backpack that almost matched the shade of his fur. "In fact, I'm a terrible bodyguard."

"I'm the exact opposite of a bodyguard," Harmira added, adjusting one of his wrist straps.

"I've been a bodyguard," Ganos said. He shot a dubious glance in the Saiyan's direction. "But it's a waste of my abilities. Why not just let your son guard your wife? He's obviously got the power for it."

"I can do it, Dad," Trunks said. Vegeta regarded him with appraisal, and then nodded. Bulma looked back and forth between the two of them, fuming.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Bulma asked.

"About this? No," Vegeta said. "Woman, we're on a version of my home planet, surrounded by my people, in an environment I literally grew up in. You run the show back on Earth, and you're good at it, but here? You need to listen to me, and we need to get moving. Now."

CABBA

"My own ship's brig," the Admiral said. "Either you've gotten lazy, or you really enjoy irony."

Having finally awakened , Admiral Colla had immediately stood and tested the bars of her cell. She then, glared at Cabba with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"I want an explanation, Colla," Cabba said. "Why would you just decide to turn rogue?"

"I'm not big on blind loyalty," Colla said. "Once I realized that the King had been rendered a figurehead, I saw that the loyalist cause was the losing side. Why bet my ships and the lives of my people on a weak government that can't enforce anything?"

"But what if the losing side wasn't losing any longer?" Cabba asked.

"I've been listening to explosions since I woke up. I don't think there is a winning side right now," she said. She sat down on the bare bunk and regarded him coolly. "You prove that your side is worthy, and I'll consider lending my support. Until then, I'll be happy to give you my name, rank, and identifier."

"Colla, the influence you have and the things you know could change the course of the war for us," Cabba said. "At the very least, make an offer."

"I already did," she said. She abruptly stood and walked to the bars. "What are you going to do, torture me?"

The speed at which his hands slammed into the bars made her jump back. She paled, and for the first time, Cabba saw actual fear in her eyes. He caught a sudden glimpse of himself in the polished metal mirror mounted on the wall. His eyes widened. Is that me? I look like… some kind of demon. No wonder she's scared. I have to get control of this. She just… no. I need to get control, period.

"I don't torture," Cabba said. He turned his back to her and began to remove his shirt. She looked on warily until the burn scars from the induction probes came into view. The scarring was hard to look at, four rectangles of red, rough skin. He pulled the uniform shirt the rest of the way off. "I've found out firsthand what it's like. Do you know how it feels, being in so much pain that it nearly kills you?"

"No," she said quietly. That shook her up a bit. Good. Maybe now she'll realize that there is more at stake here than just her fleet. He began to don the shirt again. "I apologize for my choice of words, but my decision stands. Give me evidence that you have the support of the majority of the factions and we'll join you. Until then, I remain a prisoner."

"If you change your mind, just let the guard know," Cabba said with a sigh. He readjusted the shoulders on the shirt, fixing the rank insignia. He then turned to leave.

"You can't be acting alone," Colla said suddenly. "There's no way it's just you and Brusso."

"Don't worry about that," Cabba said, stopping at the threshold. "We've got friends."

CAULIFLA

"Ordinarily, I'd be happy to see a pretty girl coming into my office," the Captain said. The office in question was large and well-appointed, although it smelled like must and old cigars. The man himself was just as large, brutish and muscular in appearance, with a wild mane of spiked hair and a large beard to match. An ashtray on his desk was full of cigar butts. A lit cigar hung from his mouth, smelling atrocious. "I take it from the flags and the collection of hoodlums outside that this isn't a social call."

"We represent Sadala United," Caulifla said. Not a bad name for the effort. I figured that Cabba would go for something more jingoistic. Kale stood flanking her on the right side. Her eyes, occasionally reflecting glints of green, stared unnervingly at the officer. He visibly did his best to ignore her. "I'm a bandit, not a soldier. I'm not going to negotiate with you. You and your men either join, or you die."

"Do you think that's a credible threat?" the Captain asked. He leaned back in his chair. "I know who you are. Your gang can't stand up to my garrison. What in the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"Taking over," said Kale. She didn't blink. Her expression didn't waver. A bead of sweat ran down the Captain's face.

"Some of my guys are Super Saiyans now, same as yours," Caulifla said. She planted a hand on his desk and leaned over it. "We've got the backing of Colonel Cabba and the God of Destruction. If you don't take us seriously, you're going to end up regretting it."

"Tell you what. I might be willing to send my guys your direction, but you'd have to make it worth my while," the Captain said. He ran his eyes over her body. The leer on his face made his meaning clear. Caulifla had to fight down the urge to punch him, at least until an interesting thought occurred to her.

"No thanks. But you know, I think my friend might be more your type," Caulifla said. She stood aside, grinning. The Captain shot Caulifla an uneasy glance, and then realized that the woman now standing in front of him was growing. Kale's shadow grew longer and longer, falling over the officer. He watched, neck craning upward, until at last he found himself staring up at a woman three times his size and immeasurably strong. He gaped, and the cigar fell from his mouth to smolder on the desk.

"So, dinner and a movie?" Kale asked, her voice booming in the small office. The officer stared up at her, eyes wide. He was completely speechless. After a moment, she shrugged and then casually flicked his forehead with one finger. He flew backward and his head struck the wall, then rebounded and again struck the desk on the way to the floor. He crumpled into a hairy, unconscious mess. "Aw. Well, he probably couldn't handle me anyway."

"You're probably right," Caulifla said. She peered behind the desk, saw the heap of hair and bruises, and burst out laughing.

VEGETA

"Stop," the Saiyan said, holding out a hand. The entire group immediately halted. He peered up through the tall trees. The birdsong was gone. The noise of insects was gone. It was so quiet that he could hear the breathing of his team and family. Animals don't become this quiet unless they're afraid of something. But where is the threat? Trying to identify anything in the middle of this damn forest is tricky. A shadow passed across his face and he looked up. A group of Saiyan soldiers were flying above the treetops at a fast pace toward the spot where the containers were hidden. He glanced at his wife, and nodded with satisfaction. She rigged them to blow. Those scouts are going to get a nasty surprise. She was also holding a small device with a rotating antenna, one originally designed by Sigma Twelve. It was a white noise generator of sorts, capable of masking ki signatures as long as the people being masked weren't actively fighting or trying to transform. Between her and Trunks, I have the solution to every problem that they themselves will cause. "It's clear. Go."

"Are you sure that we're heading in the right direction?" Bulma asked. The trail-less forest was treacherous, the ground overcome with roots and debris. Not convenient, but flying will have us spotted quickly. We have to stick to the ground and under cover.

"If you had the ability to sense ki, you wouldn't ask," Vegeta said, shaking his head. He lifted his leg over a particularly large root and kept walking.

"The capital looks like a bonfire of energy, Mom," Trunks said. Smaller than the others, Trunks' combat suit was already dirty from having to climb over small fallen trees and other obstacles. "Seriously, it's going to be really hard to identify individual ki signatures within the city. Even the Saiyan civilians have ki ability, and there are enough warriors that the entire place is almost saturated."

"Those scouter devices of yours," Harmira said, near the end of the procession. "They are not susceptible to this kind of interference?"

"No," Trunks said. He grinned at the alien. "I actually brought a couple with me, just in case."

"So did I," said Bulma. "But it's not very convenient. You have to be focused on someone's position to use the scouter. It doesn't help you find them in the first place."

"If only there was another way of telling people apart," Lavender said from a short distance behind the rest of them. He had been stopping periodically to pick what looked like poisonous herbs and mushrooms, deliberately choosing ones with bright warning colors. "Like, you know, their smell."

"There are millions of people in the capital," Vegeta said. "You're telling me that you could identify a single one, if you knew their smell?"

"There were thousands in the herds that my ancestors hunted," Lavender said. He tensed and leapt over a small boulder overgrown with moss, landing just behind Trunks. "But the old chasers could smell the sick ones and the weak ones. If I can get a good sniff, yeah, I can track them down. I'm not nearly as good as my brothers when it comes to tracking, but I can pull it off."

"I'd still like to know how we're planning on getting in and out again," Ganos said. His birdlike legs allowed him to stride over things that gave the others trouble. Every so often, he would perch on a stump or fallen tree and wait for the rest to catch up. "We're on a planet full of Saiyans, and we have no knowledge about the city we're about to infiltrate."

Vegeta stopped, and put a hand in the air. The rest of them halted, and the entire forest grew still once again. He reached over and shut off the device that Bulma was holding, ignoring her look of protest. Almost immediately, he dropped into a fighting stance.

"We're surrounded," Vegeta said.

"You're surrounded," a voice boomed from the tree line. All of them stared into the forest, and saw nothing.

"Might as well say our good-byes," Lavender said sarcastically. He huffed a few times and ejected a tiny stream of green gas from his mouth. He inhaled it, looked thoughtful for a second, and then nodded.

"You might as well say your good-byes," the loud voice confirmed. Not less than a second later, dozens of Saiyans stepped out from behind the trees. At first, their figures were hard to discern as they seemed to blend with whatever was behind them. Abruptly, the strange camouflage of their armor was deactivated, leaving them in head-to-toe blood red armor with black plating. One by one, they stopped suppressing their ki, revealing an entire cadre of elite fighters. The four agents and Trunks had made a makeshift circle around Bulma, who was frozen with fear, staring at the Saiyans. An old and weathered man stepped out from the encircling force and regarded the infiltrators.

"We don't take kindly to imposters, whoever you are," the man said. Why is his voice familiar? I've heard it before. Recently.

"I'm no imposter, and neither is anyone here," Vegeta replied. He heard a round of chuckles from the treeline, and realized that most of the soldiers were staring directly at him, and a few at Bulma.

"You look like the Emperor," the old man said. Tech?! It is him. But far more powerful than the version we knew. "You sound like the Emperor. Did you honestly think that-"

His words were cut short by an enormous explosion in the distance. The sound was so loud that making out words or other noises was impossible. A shockwave traveled through the forest, bending the trees and staggering everyone standing. As the sound and force passed, several of the soldiers ran toward their commanding officer, who was lying on his back. He waved off their assistance and got to his feet. A patch of his uniform had been burned away dead center on his chest. His eyes fixed on Harmira.

"Nice shot. It's going to be the last one you ever make," he said. He put one hand straight into the air, clenched into a fist. "We are the elite guard of Emperor Vegeta, the fourth of his name. That sniper's life is forfeit, but I am offering the rest of you a chance to surrender. I'm sure that His Imperial Majesty is going to want to question you personally."

"We intend to fight," Vegeta said grimly. He glanced around at the dozens of Saiyans surrounding them. Elites. Far more of them than in our universe. He turned his head to address the others, quietly. "Trunks, take your mother and break through their line, get her as far away from us as possible. We'll find you later. Harmira, Lavender – take out as many of them as you can, as fast as you can. Ganos, protect Harmira and Lavender, keep the enemies off of them so they can do their job. I'm going to take their leader down, and then we'll finish off the rest."

Without warning, the entire forest became awash with light. Vegeta looked up, and his jaw almost dropped. Every Saiyan in the guard had transformed. Every single one was watching them with eyes of blue-green and standing in a fierce golden aura. Even Tech… no… here, he'd actually be General Callion. A real title, not an honorary one. Dammit, if I could use God powers all of these weaklings would be gone. But stuck with Super Saiyan Two? This is going to be difficult.

"I think I better help with the fight, Dad," Trunks said, trying to sound confident. Vegeta turned to him with a glare.

"The plan doesn't change. Get your mother out of here," he ordered.

"A non-combatant?" Callion interrupted. The silver in his hair had stained the gold of the transformation, making his hair look like a spray of ornamental blades. He reached out a hand and powered up a ball of ki, aimed directly at Bulma. She stared back at him, her face pale. "Another good reason to surrender, imposter."

You. Fucking. DARE.

Two seconds after Callion had finished speaking, the first series of strikes was already impacting on his body. Powered by a mixture of Super Saiyan Two and pure rage, Vegeta battered the older Saiyan, whose attempts at defense looked pitiful at best. One of Callion's arms broke, followed by several ribs. Blood sprayed from his mouth. Callion managed to land a few strikes, which Vegeta could not feel. Ki blasts from the other elites impacted on his back and sides. Dimly, he could hear Bulma shouting something and the sound of Harmira's cannons discharging. Vegeta drew back his fist and infused it with ki, as if he was beginning a Gallic Gun. He grabbed the old Saiyan's uniform collar and pulled him close.

"I've fought gods for her. You're nothing," Vegeta snarled. He rammed his fist into the general's chest and detonated the blast. The tree behind him was suddenly wet with red. Callion's aura winked out and his hair faded to black. With a shocked expression, he looked down to see the smoking hole in his chest and then he crumpled to the ground. As soon as he dropped, Vegeta found himself bombarded from three directions by massive beam attacks. The pressure was overwhelming. Even at Super Saiyan Two, he was forced to his knees. He could hear Bulma shouting his name, and a sudden host of shrieks and wails as Lavender shared his talents with the guard. The beams ground on him mercilessly, pinning him down. Super Saiyan Two slipped away, and then the first transformation as well. As the rage finally deserted him and all of the pain came due at once, Vegeta mercifully went unconscious.

TRUNKS

"Dad!" he shouted, watching his father fall. His head swung back to his mother, who was clutching onto his hand as if it was life itself. Right behind them, the three aliens were fighting a delaying action to buy the boy and his mother time to escape. Harmira was using penetrating shots, lining up eerily accurate blows and injuring several Saiyans at a time. Lavender's poisons had already felled three of the guard, and had several others staggering and barely able to stand. His victims lived, but bones locked with twisted muscles and contorted with pain, they had been rendered helpless. Ganos finished anyone who came within hand-to-hand range with precise disabling strikes or powerful kicks. They managed to hold off the guard for several minutes, retreating across the forest floor and leaving it littered with casualties.

The Saiyans backed off, and then reassembled themselves into a loose semicircle glowing with golden power, still almost twenty strong. In unison, they stretched out their hands. A storm of ki blasts tore into the aliens, battering them and driving them back. Harmira, badly wounded, took cover behind a petrified stump. Ganos took over a dozen blasts simultaneously and was knocked to the ground, unconscious. Lavender took a deep breath to return fire and was promptly nailed between the eyes by a powerful blast, flipping him over a fallen tree and leaving him dazed in the mud and loam. They're down. I'm the last one. I have to protect her! Behind the advancing guard, Trunks could see one of the injured elites binding his father's wrists with some kind of energy cuffs. With a shout, he entered Super Saiyan Two. The elites stopped, appraising the new threat.

"Look how young he is! Heh, we've got a hybrid here," a female Saiyan with a scarred face said. She favored him with an unpleasant grin. "Too bad we have to waste him. He's kind of cute."

"Just try it," Trunks said. He turned his head to his mother, and his eyes widened. She was clutching onto his hand, face almost bone-white, staring at the approaching Saiyans. "Mom. Run. I'll hold them off."

"No," she said. She stood up, facing the Saiyans defiantly. Mom? W-what are you doing? "I surrender. Wherever you're taking my husband, take me too. Just leave my son out of this."

The Saiyans stopped, glancing at each other. They all looked toward one of the older men who was wearing a more ornate insignia than the others. He nodded.

"That works for me. You two, get her restrained and take her back to the others. Don't harm her. Don't kill the boy," he said. The two elites approached her, only to be halted in their tracks. Trunks stared up at them defiantly, his aura crackling and spitting sparks of gold. She placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in, putting her lips at his ear.

"They're going to take me and your father to exactly the place we were going to go," she whispered. "It's the best chance we have. Don't be stupid and get yourself killed. Take the other fighters and wait for an opportunity."

He looked up at her with a bleak expression, and slowly powered down. Quickly, the two elites took her and bound her hands as they had with his father, leading her away with haste. The officer looked down at Trunks and smiled.

"I said I wouldn't kill you," he said quietly. A few seconds later, Trunks found his legs swept out from under him. Before he could react, Super Saiyan-powered blows were raining down on his helpless form, leaving him no choice but to try to cover himself. From the yelps and yells of pain coming from the distance, he realized that his allies were getting the same treatment. "And I won't. But you and yours killed our General. Admittedly, the best death he was going to get at his age, but still… there's a certain standard that must be upheld in these matters. As I said, men – don't kill."

The beating continued until Trunks was unconscious, and then for some time after.