A/N: Sorry for the wait! I had way too much real life going on and couldn't get the spare time, but I'm slowing down now! I've been writing like a fiend to get this out lol. Thank you to Lisa8507 (I love it too! I've been waiting to write it for a while lol), NNP (Awesome! Definite mic drop moment, but poor Vegeta has a lot on his plate at the moment, so he's got to have a plan!), lmamc (Exactly that. And the "weak/strong" thing definitely comes into play. This Vegeta is a bit ahead of his time in some ways, and stilted in others lol), Reddra6on (Glad you loved it! Sorry for the wait, but if you feel the need to re-read, I sincerely hope you enjoy it!), Toulouse22 (VERY interesting choice of words in "proving her worth", because she hits the ground running, as you'll see lol), Thomas-The-TMC, ribbonvalbuar03 (As you wish!), Midnight Angels Say GoodNight (Thank you, and I'm so glad you like his characterization, because it is definitely crucial to the story. I hate to leave you guys in suspense with Bulma's friends, but next chapter for sure!)

Chapter 23:

Geta had now participated in the destruction of two worlds on the orders of the Cold Empire, and each had come as a blessing. Being sent on an annihilation mission meant being away from Lord Frieza. For reasons beyond Geta's understanding, the Ice-jin ruler liked to keep him close…

There were many soldiers weak enough to amuse Frieza, and yet Geta had somehow garnered his special interest. Before being shipped here, Geta could have imagined a greater hell. Now, all he knew was nightmares.

Sometimes, it was a satisfying destruction of another weak world that left Geta in a blind panic to get the task done, a blood-soaked wasteland before he could wake up. Sometimes it was Frieza and his cronies, toying with him until he just played dead so it would stop (in the sleeping world, it did). And more rarely, it was his "father" and the blue Woman, laughing at his fate together while he tried to stay alive under Frieza's thumb.

And those were the worst.

That bitch was dead, he told himself as his newly-awoken chest heaved with rage. She wouldn't ever laugh again!

And when he saw his bastard brother again, he would be next.

The one good thing from all of this was the increase in Geta's own strength. He could rip Trunks apart with ease now! Imagining that day was a particularly good daydream…

Frieza's lip curled every time Geta emerged from the Regen Tank and he suspected it was because Frieza didn't like the increase in Geta's power level, every. single. time. Geta had to wonder why Frieza continued to beat up on him (and order his minions to do it) if he didn't like how Geta recovered.

"You monkeys are resilient, aren't you?" Frieza murmured with a dangerous smile. And that day, Geta was sure he was going to die.

He didn't.

And one dull, standard day after that, Frieza summoned Geta to his private hall. The young Saiyan learned quickly that those were the worst days of all, and Geta looked in the mirror before reporting, something he avoided after nightmares of another face shattering them. All he found was new, dark circles impressed under his eyes and the angles of his profile sharpening. He never looked more or less like his fath—like King Vegeta.

Frieza once again asked strange questions. Questions Geta didn't care about, but was wise enough to hold his tongue about now.

"It occurs to me that the old Saiyan King may have misled me," Frieza tutted, crossing his arms as he appraised Geta. "Little Tarble was not a good subject. I should have demanded the Saiyan heir last time."

Frieza often spoke like that—like he didn't know that Vegeta despised Geta and refused to even call him by his name (always "clone", like that was the unnatural way of reproducing and the Woman and their spawn was somehow better). Geta wouldn't have been surprised if Vegeta's first act as King was to disinherit him. But Frieza didn't need to know about that. He knew enough about Tarble now to know that once Tarble outlived his usefulness, he didn't live. So Geta didn't say anything.

"They say that Vegeta has grown stronger than all past generations. Do they speak the truth?"

"Yes," Geta answered, clenching his fists at his own impotence. Vegeta was behind him, too strong for Geta to have fought, and now Lord Frieza was before him, also too strong. But that wasn't enough for Frieza's curiosity.

"And there is a legend passed down by you monkeys, correct? A Legendary Warrior," Frieza's voice was bursting with sadistic mirth. "They say Vegeta may be the one."

Geta blinked in surprise, finally meeting Frieza's eyes. "Who said that?"

Frieza scowled at his impertinence. "Never you mind. I would like to know if it's true, and as your father sent you to be my toy, serving at my every whim …surely you feel no loyalty to him?"

Geta was well-aware of what Frieza was doing, but he reacted to the betrayal all the same. It was laughable that he would feel any loyalty to the new King Vegeta! Still the pride of his blood, taught by his grandfather, was stubbornly set inside of him no matter what he endured.

He had to survive, he had to avenge himself and what he stood for! Because no one else would anymore…

"I don't, Lord Frieza," Geta said with as much haughtiness as he could muster. "Nobody believes that legend anymore, except the King. And he's not the Legendary anything. He just wants to be."

Frieza's red eyes were still lit with interest. "Ah, I knew he had treasonous thoughts… But how do you know that it's only a myth?"

Geta barely stopped himself from shrugging. He was bored with this conversation and had hoped that Frieza would send him away again. But he had to humor the Cold Emperor or risk angering him. "I guess it would have happened by now. Pr—King Vegeta even used that slut he had to help him and it didn't do anything…"

"He had his bed slave assisting him?" Frieza said blankly.

"I told you before that she was a scientist," Geta responded carefully. "He wanted to try something different to gain power. But it didn't work."

"Didn't it?"

"I trained with him and—Lord Frieza." He wouldn't say Trunks' name, it made him feel like spitting. "He's the strongest Saiyan alive, but he isn't anything like that legend." Geta forced himself to meet Frieza's eyes again when a white claw crept under his chin and tilted his face upward. He didn't even breathe.

"You seem so sure, little monkey," Frieza drawled, his voice rebounding against the frigid, high ceiling. "And yet I see you get stronger, day after day after day." The point of his nail dug into the underside of Geta's jaw and he gritted his teeth, bracing for a blow. He had nothing to say to that, so he thought it was safest to keep his mouth shut.

"And now you tell me that Vegeta was attempting to bring about that stupid myth, for what?!" A blow across the side of the head rang his ears and Geta rebounded against one of the pillars. Thankfully, it wasn't hard enough to keep him down. "He means to overthrow me! I know this like I know the stench of you monkeys!"

Geta put his hands up to guard his face and was side-swiped by the tail, crumpling back against the pillar. Playing dead only made Frieza furious, so he didn't do it. He thought quickly of what words might change the Ice-jin's mood instead. "He can't! It wouldn't matter—" He couldn't defend and speak at the same time, so Frieza backed off his casual assault momentarily.

"What wouldn't matter?"

Geta wiped the blood hurriedly from his lip, ignoring the taste in his mouth. "Even if he tried, Lord Frieza, it doesn't matter. It hasn't worked and it would have already!"

"I have it on good authority that it has worked, you stupid chimp! The night you killed his slave and he killed his father!"

"It's a lie!" Geta said desperately. "I was there! He never once—"

This time, Geta's head cracked the pillar and he didn't get back to his feet immediately. Frieza towered over him, disappointment sitting in the corner of his mouth. "After he beat you unconscious, you wouldn't know what he did. Are you trying to trick your Lord, little monkey prince?"

"It didn't happen," Geta swore emphatically. "He was frustrated. He took Trunks—"

"Who is Trunks?"

"My—his bastard Earth son with that woman!" He tried to back away as subtly as possible. Frieza's nostrils flared dangerously. "He used to make us fight. He was angry that Trunks was so useless and—"

"And he told me that he killed his half-breed. Yet I've discovered that that was yet another lie." Frieza snarled. "He's sent him to work for the Saiyans, stripping planets of their resources, thinking that I would never notice! But I suppose it isn't in your animal blood to be honest, is it? I thought very seriously about just destroying your pathetic planet altogether, to save myself the trouble of having to sift through the petty dishonesties!"

A Saiyan was feeding information to Frieza, that was clear even to Geta's young brain. But if Frieza destroyed the whole planet, then Geta had no reason to live anymore. He wouldn't get his revenge, he wouldn't take his birthright, he wouldn't get anything that should be his!

"When I am King, the Saiyans will be loyal!" Geta vowed in a scramble for footing against Frieza's mood swing. "We will only obey Lord Frieza and the Cold Empire!"

Geta blinked up at Frieza to see that he had had his hand raised, and it was now stayed. He appeared to be considering the words. And the white hand lowered slowly. The Saiyan boy breathed a little easier.

"You monkeys do have your uses. Dogs of destruction. I suppose it would be …imprudent to destroy the whole vassal for the actions of one leader…" Geta refused to cower under the scrutiny. "You say you're loyal, little prince."

"I am, my Lord." Geta would swallow whatever humiliations were necessary, as long as he could exact his revenge.

"Then I could depose your treacherous father and install you as my puppet King."

"I—I couldn't yet!"

"And why not?" Frieza sighed, the beginnings of renewed irritation in the corners of his eyes.

"I'm not strong enough to kill the king!" Geta said in a rush. "He'd kill me in the challenge and if you were to do it, the Saiyans wouldn't listen to me. I haven't proven myself! I have to get stronger before—"

Frieza grabbed Geta by his military uniform and lifted him to his glacially hard face, spitting as he raged. "Yes, yes, I know all about your bestial rituals! And if I thought the Saiyans were a true threat at this point, I'd wipe you foul monkeys off the face of the universe!" Geta's legs dangled helplessly off the ground as Frieza scrutinized him, making some decision. "But I'll admit that your idea has some merit… and the longer you serve me, little prince, the more loyal you'll become. The only question remains: when will you be strong enough to face your sire?"

"I'll work hard," Geta grunted, the white fist uncomfortably pressed against his throat. "I can surpass him!"

Frieza dropped him to the ground. "And the more you're harmed, the stronger you become. And we will take advantage of those simian abilities you have for our aims."

Frieza called for Cui and Dodoria, who arrived promptly. "Train this one until he's too broken to stand. Put him in the Tank and repeat that process again and again, until I tell you to stop. I'll want reports."

"Of course, my Lord!"

"As you command!" Geta grimaced at their gummy smiles, resolute in his belief that they weren't even faking their obedient stooge routine. It kept his mind off what was coming.

Frieza step forward to give Geta a pat on the cheek, smiling when Geta suppressed a flinch at the mockingly gentle caress. "While you study for your "test", I will gather the necessary information."

Cui and Dodoria turned around with a wave for Geta to fall in line, which he did with subservient hatred. And Frieza's cackle followed them out of the enormous doors. "Work hard!"

VBVBVBVBVBVBVB

The weight of Bulma in his arms was as slight as her puny human form ever was, but it was somehow also an anchor to him, as he surveyed the appalled, Saiyan faces of nobility before him. His grip tightened and he felt himself go into high-alert. It was a reminder …a reminder that one of them had gotten by him and taken her life before. Her heartbeat was pounding in his ears, attuned to the sound of her life.

He could tear them all apart. He could tear down the whole planet and dispense with the pretense entirely.

But Frieza…

The danger that Frieza presented would not go away if he were to act on his vicious impulses… He knew there were other things at hand, and they needed to be addressed. Now.

Bulma coming alive was the herald of a great many things. And every being who dwelled on Vegeta-sei needed to understand: who was King, what would be valued, what would be tolerated, and where their Saiyan power truly lay …or approximately where.

His self-control had not failed him yet, and there was nothing to fear; they couldn't touch him. Bulma had crumpled and his hands had instinctively gathered her up—it was a display he wouldn't have countenanced before, but now he made them mark it. He reveled in their astonishment over this woman, and his relationship with her.

"I'm afraid that the Queen has had a trying day," Vegeta said, as the Woman's head shifted toward his shoulder, hiding against his skin. His shirt still clothed her, screaming his possession of her back out at them, without words. "I return her to the Royal Wing and will be with you momentarily." He jerked his head toward the Meeting Chamber, with its gaping hole and the guard crawling out of the wreckage.

Normally, he could name at least two Elites who would have protested for an explanation. But his announcement seemed to knock them off-balance, and he knew that his demeanor was everything to this. He didn't depart quickly, and they trickled toward the room in a daze.

Bulma looked less peaceful in sleep than she had in death, and it calmed his soul, or whatever was ringing inside of him with every step… Her brow was restless as he laid her on the enormous bed of the King, wondering how stubbornly the blasted little earthling would push herself out of rest to nettle him with questions about what had left his mouth a moment ago.

His Queen.

He looked down at her for an extra moment before he forcibly recovered himself and strode out the door, snapping toward one of the guards lining the corridor. "Guard this door and let nothing enter it."

The guard jerked his head in assent and took his position up, stalwart and frowning as most Saiyans did by default. Vegeta mused that second and third-class Saiyans were far more loyal than their Elite counterparts. They didn't care or stand as much on the customs pushed by Saiyan history, because the practices were not as beneficial to lower-class. The palace staff, who had seen more of that fateful night than anyone else, had kept his secrets.

Still, the King couldn't blame anyone on the planet for how their politics and culture persisted. Had Vegeta never seen the wider universe from almost all of its corners, he might not have known these things either.

But it was long-past time to shed these Elites of their comfortable falsehoods.

And finally, to sift the traitors from their midst.

The company's demeanor had changed when he entered the Meeting Chamber, having taken themselves out of their shock to gear up for a confrontation.

"My King, we have to address your last words," Lord Cumber the Upstart was already on his feet, defiance read in the set of his jaw. "They can't just stand!"

Vegeta laughed harshly. "Oh, they could. If I wished it to be so. However, I will indulge you all once more. So sit, Lord Cumber." His tone brooked no argument, and the young Lord lowered himself with only the barest, arrogant smirk. That was all well and good, because none of them would be smirking shortly. He looked around at their varying degrees of confusion, irritation, and outrage.

"Your Majesty, if you don't mind me saying, it doesn't sound as if you indulged us before," General Cauli spoke out into the drawn-out silence, once they had settled. "We were led to believe that the woman you had taken from Earth years ago had been killed. We were told that the young Prince had taken her life and thus, he was sent to Lord Frieza for the insubordination. Your—the woman …she appears to be very much alive…"

Vegeta tamped down the desire to grin a little, because Cauli respected him enough to refrain from calling Bulma a "slave". Vegeta had proclaimed her Queen, and though he was as confused as the rest, he would address her as such. However, the other title raised his hackles.

"The clone my father made did attempt to take the Woman's life," Vegeta answered. "And that's the only piece of this that you've spoken true. Because that clone is no Prince of Vegeta-sei! It's a creation of my father's, and not only were its actions a direct attack on me, but as you now know …it was all the more treasonous."

"Yes," Lord Cumber said softly, commanding the room with a technique that Vegeta used often enough to recognize it and spark irritation inside him. "Because the Earth woman is suddenly your Queen. After years on this planet where you allowed her to be treated as a slave, you've now declared that she is the alien Queen of All Saiyans. And this is where I'm lost, my King. It wasn't long ago that you informed us all of the death of your father, the death of the woman, and the departure of both of your brats. And you painted a very different picture then."

"I painted the picture you wanted, my Lord." Vegeta said, and it was said with such an undertone of rumbling that the dissent quieted. Vegeta rose to his full height and his arm swept the room. "What? Isn't that what you wanted?! The Woman—My Slave, The Clone—My Heir, The Brat—My Bastard! You casted them yourself! I merely allowed you to believe what you wanted, until the time came that that charade was what 'couldn't stand'!"

"And what is the truth, Your Majesty?" Lord Cumber volleyed back. "Now that we are finally to this point?"

"The truth is that you're all a pack of weaklings," Vegeta hissed contemptuously. "The truth is that you sit in these chains of the Ice-jin because you enjoy them. And now, my lords, if you don't mean to follow me out of our enslavement, you can die—the whole damned old Saiyan race can die—and I won't bat an eye!"

His last set of insults had some of them rising furiously to their feet, though they knew that there was no way the King would be the one to fall. Vegeta spiked his ki threateningly and it quelled the opposition enough to continue this confrontation.

"We enjoy these chains?!" Lord Cumber sputtered indignantly. "When have we ever been anything but supportive of a plan to take down the Cold Empire?! If anything, I've found you to be too slow!"

"Yes," Vegeta said with scorn, ignoring the insult to his speed. "You've all been very supportive to my face! But I know what has been spread behind closed doors, and I will call in the blood debt I am owed shortly. For now …I will banish the claims against my Queen and this succession."

"The Succession." Lord Parnip blinked, typically used to considering everything and yet, having missed a bigger part of this puzzle, greater than an alien Queen Consort. They knew of Vegeta's contempt for the clone, but private feelings were nothing to this. "You mean to—"

"I mean to value strength, my lords. That is what I've always meant to do. While you sat on your asses in this chamber with my father, I was testing my so-called heirs. Judging their potential, regardless of how they came to be, regardless of blood. Why? Because the same tired pattern had been done for generations, and came to nothing!

"I looked for another way and I found it. And as it stands, my half-blood brat is far stronger and will always be stronger than the clone," Vegeta pronounced bitingly. "And because of that undeniable truth, the laws of our planet must change to suit it. Trunks is the Prince of All Saiyans, and he will reign after me. And that cursed clone can die in Frieza's hands for all that I care, but he will never succeed me or mine!"

His voice boomed around them, taking long to die in the suddenly still room. Vegeta felt almost impatient to hear the response, now that he had finally declared the thing that was so abominable to these Saiyans. Any slight trepidation had been lost, because as he had finally spoken, he knew he spoke true. And he meant to see this through to its conclusion, whatever the result.

VBVBVBVBVBVBVB

Bulma had burst again from the water and awake, trembling and alone. "V-Vegeta?" Her teeth chattered for some reason and she ignored the new memories returning to her, in favor of the dream. The same dream…

Her eyes widened and the excitement of a new scientific puzzle gripped her in its thrall. All sensible things went out the window and she stumbled to her feet and pushed the door with both hands, only to be met with the weight of solid, Saiyan poundage. "Whoa!"

She slipped through the small opening and twisted around to look at the guard. "Hey, where's Vegeta?"

The Saiyan blinked too slowly at her underneath his perma-frown. "Uh, a meeting. He said not to let anyone in."

"What about letting them out? On second thought, forget that. I'll be in the Lab in the Tech Department!"

"Hey wait," the Saiyan chortled, like Bulma was a kind of cute house pet, instead of a force to be reckoned with. "The King said—"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Come with me then! What do I care? Just don't scare my scientists with your dopey face, okay?"

The guard (who was new, but one of the more easy-going ones she had ever met) hesitated when his gaze dropped below her neckline. "I'd be more worried about what's going to happen to them if you don't put clothes on and the King shows up."

Bulma had forgotten about that. She flushed at her own absent-mindedness and rushed back into the room, ripping a screen to the side to find none of her clothes in the closet. "Great, Vegeta," she groaned. This was such a waste of time, and when she had gotten such a potentially brilliant idea! She ran back out the hall and snapped her fingers. "We have to take a pit stop, muscle man. Let's go!"

She didn't break her stride, knowing he would trail after her eventually. They all did.

This one was also talkative. "You're gonna take the blame when he realizes where you went, right?"

"Sure…" Bulma breathed as she emerged from their old rooms and down the familiar path to the Tech Department. "He's not gonna be mad, anyway. Don't worry!" Not when he heard about what she might be able to do…

"Yeah, right…" he grumbled in her wake.

"Loid!" Bulma sang out, bumping past harried slaves and throwing both arms around her friend once she found him, his orange complexion a beacon.

"B—Bulma?! How—"

"We can talk about that later, I want your help with something!" She ignored the dumbfounded stares of every other person in the lab and tugged at Loid's limp wrist. "If I don't write it down now, I might forget it!" she complained, prompting him to respond to her tugging by sinking into the nearest chair.

Bulma jammed a writing utensil into his closed fist and pushed some paper toward them. "Okay, this is what I need…"

VBVBVBVBVBVBVB

"Sire," General Cauli said slowly. "You don't believe our ways to work, and yet, here you stand as a testament to them. You are the strongest Saiyan of our age. You say you are the Legendary. How can it be that your half-blooded son could contend with that?"

Given the lie Vegeta had spun before, this was a fair question. Cauli was the most experienced, militaristic Saiyan among them. He was surely open to any improvements they could make—by the same stretch, he would have sworn by their old methods.

"What you are missing, General, is the fact that our methods were not the reason for my power. It was my own, natural-born capacity, combined with the methods of my Queen, that has brought this superiority." The boast in his voice rang out. "Taking two boys with my genetics, my blood, and pitting them against each other has only cemented my theory. My son, who is also a product of his mother's work, has become far more powerful than the clone."

"Yet, neither brat is here to be seen," Cumber remarked, balancing oh-so-carefully on the edge of respect. "I will say, Your Majesty, that your explanation sounds much like the science blather of those slaves in the Tech Department."

"Yes, how shocking!" Vegeta mocked. "Given that the Queen was working with them! And tell me, Lord Cumber, how do you know the blather in the Tech Department? Do you find yourself a frequent visitor there, or are you just enjoying the sound of your insubstantial voice?"

Chastened, the young Saiyan lord closed his mouth for the moment.

General Paragus held up a hand to be heard. "So as I understand it then, my King, you've used foreign techniques to enhance your abilities. That's fine. But we've all seen the woman in question, her power level is lower than that of an insectoid race…" There was a slight murmur around the table, of agreement. "And the boy you deem a prince shares half of her blood! How could it be that his strength would be equal to that of any full-blooded Saiyan, let alone one of the royal line?" Again, that buzz of agreement rippled through the table.

Vegeta nodded. "I see that this will take further explanation, so you will hear it from one of those who can explain it: from the Tech Department."

"A slave is to be brought before this conference?" Lord Parnip asked.

"Yes, because a slave understands something that you do not. And I have more pressing matters than to stand here and explain something you have no true interest in." Vegeta had hit this wall with the Elites many times, only now when he was further enforcing it did it even begin to draw their attention. He felt little sympathy as a result.

"Your strength speaks for itself, my King," Paragus allowed. "I, for one, will listen to this slave whenever he is presented before us."

"We've gone far off-track of the subject at hand," Parnip insisted impatiently, surrendering the issue of listening to a Tech Department slave. "This human woman to be your Queen. Sire, I fully understand you keeping the woman around, using her in whatever way you see fit …but to be your Queen?"

"Hn," Vegeta smirked. "Actually, you understand very well, Lord Parnip. That's how I want her. As my Queen."

"There's no precedent for this," Cumber said darkly, staring at the table before him. He appeared more agitated than the older Saiyan Elite.

"There's no precedent for a Saiyan Queen at all."

"Actually," Parnip put in, "that's not strictly—"

"You said you want to value strength," Cumber interrupted the other lord, his eyes still on Vegeta. "Then what—"

"You don't understand strength, Cumber, in the more complex meaning of the word!" Vegeta cut across him. He felt a momentary and surprising tremble of pride, different than the one he felt for Trunks. "Her strength exists in a way that you nor anyone else on this planet perceives. And that, my lords, is where we have been lost!"

"Why do you want this so badly? To put a crown on her head?" Cumber asked doggedly, staring at Vegeta with hot eyes and straightening. "Every rule is being upturned for—"

Cumber's eyes widened and blinked as Vegeta zipped in front of him, nose to nose. The air in the room was heavy with anticipation as the King lifted his hand, and clasped his shoulder in what looked from the outside to be a friendly gesture, and then as carelessly as Vegeta had done to the guard earlier, the King slammed Cumber against the opposite wall before the other Saiyans could blink.

The wall was well-made (despite the ease with which Vegeta could destroy it all), but it still creaked with strain as the Master of their planet impressed the Elite into its cracks, dust crumbling down to their feet. Everything about Vegeta's gestures was done with incredible speed, visible ease, and no expense of effort, and it was that that gave him the awed looks. They were afraid of him, but they had a perverse desire to see what he could do, even if it meant life and limb. Cumber, smartly, locked eyes with Vegeta to answer a challenge he had no ability to win. It was Saiyan pride at its finest. It also meant that he was giving the King his intense focus and that the rest would too. Vegeta was in no rush to break that hold as he reiterated what put them all in a flurry of panic.

"Badly …or not. She is mine, and I want her to be risen above you." Vegeta responded seriously. "I want that weak, human woman as my Queen. I want our half-blooded child—our son—as my heir. That is all that concerns you, Cumber. Because I am King. Because now that I want it, I will have it. And because if there is any attempt to take it from me or insult her, it will be met with death. So decide." Vegeta released him, leaning away from the Saiyan to address the whole room.

"This is shocking news. You will need time to recover from it, so I insist that you take up your apartments in this palace until that time I call upon you to sit for a meeting with our Tech Department. Kami knows it's no strain to your assets, but mine alone."

"We can't leave?" Another young (but quieter) Saiyan, Lord Celeri, asked from the farthest seat in the room. He voiced what they all thought: this was house arrest. The mood among them dropped with suspicion and indignation as they both looked around at each other and to their King.

"As I say," Vegeta raised his voice. "I offer you time to recover from these adjustments. Something you all need. And I suggest that you keep to those rooms, my lords, as you are the first to share my happy news." He smiled widely, though his blood felt hot with restraint at the additional ends that needed to be tied-up. He was hungry to finish it. "I wouldn't want the information to get out before a formal announcement is made..."

With that final threat lingering, Vegeta turned on his heel and once outside the door, he leaned into one of the Saiyans manning the Meeting Chamber. "Notify all guards who will be stationed at the palace entrance: if one these Elites attempts to exit, I am to be personally informed immediately."

It wasn't done yet, but still Vegeta felt he had grown a foot taller as he strode the length of the hall toward his Queen. It was a confidence that he knew would be short-lived, but he gloried in it while he could. And he was mostly unsurprised when one Elite followed after him, calling for him to slow his pace.

"General Cauli."

"Your Majesty…" The General appeared troubled. It wasn't directed toward the King, but instead what he had left behind. "I wish to be frank, and I hope you will do me the same courtesy."

"If it's possible," Vegeta replied noncommittally. "I have been thwarted at every turn, Cauli. But let it be, I don't care!"

"You don't, Sire?"

Vegeta halted impatiently and stared the general down. "No. Because at the end, there is a victory. And I dearly hope you are on the right side of it, when all is said and done."

"There is a spy, then." The bearded Saiyan looked graver than ever. "That is what this confinement is about, not your Queen. And no, that makes no difference to me…"

"If anyone knows what is good for them, it wouldn't." Vegeta almost continued to walk then, remembering his purpose. But the General didn't abandon his mission, whatever it was, and Vegeta was waylaid by yet another question.

"Once he is named, how are we to fix this? Frieza, if he believes it, will know of your power, and that he must strike you down to keep order. He could destroy Vegeta-sei."

Vegeta only said what he knew it wouldn't hurt to say: "Frieza will come here. It's a matter of 'when'. But when he does, I will destroy him." Such a vow gave him apprehension, though he'd never admit it. Ultimately, the planet's fate was in his hands…

Cauli almost smiled (in a Saiyan way), but his face was wan. "Your certainty brings comfort. As will a traitor's death for whoever betrayed us."

"You'll have it," Vegeta answered briefly. "Now leave me, General. I have another immediate concern."

A soft, pretty, blue concern. Cauli inclined his head and left him. Vegeta had little time to wonder about what the Elites would mutter among them as they drifted to their apartments, because when he arrived at the King's room, there was no guard. He had been so distracted, that he hadn't noticed her wandering little feet!

"Blasted wench," Vegeta muttered, throwing the heavy doors open to find it empty, the sheets thrown aside like a wild animal had burrowed there. "I don't NEED this!"

He guessed he'd find her at the hangar, but a scan for her signature found her at the Lab, among the slaves once more. Under his deep annoyance, he was relieved that she hadn't tried to escape him. He didn't care to think about the things he would do to keep her here now.

She is your Queen.

VBVBVBVBVBVBVB

General Cauli had departed after Vegeta, but many of the Elites hadn't left to their apartments yet. A dark intrigue had settled over them as they looked between each other, wondering whether they should speak so openly. Lord Cumber was always less inclined to reticence.

"This King does not care what we think."

"He's too powerful for it to matter, young Cumber," Paragus pointed out neutrally. "In any case, I believe we have greater problems than whether our King is igniting ancient imperatives."

"Like what?" Only Frieza came to mind, for the moment…

The old General's lips quirked slightly. "If you do not know now, you will when next we meet our King."

"He thinks one of us can't be trusted," Celeri broke in, and the others murmured their assent.

"Or all of us. And good reason when he means to make a queen out of—"

"My lords, that woman from Earth is now The Queen of All Saiyans," Lord Parnip interrupted. "You should learn her name and treat her with all the dignity you can afford, because I assure you that if it is not offered freely, King Vegeta will take it for her."

There was some subdued murmuring, and Cumber glanced at the wall where the imprint of his body was a cracked shadow, as usual as a signpost. He thought of the woman that Vegeta had often kept tucked away from his people: small, skin a shade paler than any Saiyan, delicate curves, and large blue eyes. She was humanoid, but in every other respect, she was everything that a proud Saiyan was not.

And with her came Vegeta's newly-proclaimed heir, who remarkably hadn't killed her while being brought into the world, like some half-Saiyans did.

"The half-blood too," Cumber said after his thoughts. "Now a prince…"

"Yes, the boy. Trunks, the Prince of All Saiyans." Paragus seemed heavily amused in a way that thoroughly confused Cumber. "May he return from his journey a worthy heir."

Aloud, they all agreed. But privately, Cumber wondered if they didn't wish another brat to retrieve his mantle...

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

Frieza considered the icicled ceiling after the little monkey quit his presence. It was all well and good to depose that overreaching fool when the time was right. But the emperor knew it wasn't enough for the time being, to let things lie over at Vegeta-sei…

The Saiyans were more like cockroaches than monkeys!

He sent for Zarbon, who bowed as he entered. "My Lord?"

"Yes, Zarbon. I need to call in the Ginyu Force," Frieza said breezily. "I have a new and …more creative project for them."

"Yes?"

"To send a message to King Vegeta. A forceful message."

A/N: I promise we will catch up with Trunks and co next time (you might have an inkling of what they are going to be dealing with next haha)! But due to length, we definitely have more Vegeta/Bulma things to cover as well. Hope you enjoyed! I am writing the next chapter and hope to get it out to you soon, but let me know what you're thinking as this unfolds!