*drags self from nice warm couch* oh yawn I'm tired! But not to bother you lot with any of that, I'm just gonna say what I'm gonna say then upload this then go look for my hairbrush so I don't have to cut all the knots out of my hair in the morning (long weekends=little sleep, especially when you're sleeping in the van because you have 4 beds between 5 and I already said I wouldn't ramble on so here...)

Rosethorn, Yay you like long stories *is happy* glad you're still reading ^_^

Penchy-chan the plot deducer (sounds like a juicing machine...) Me? Sick of you? I like it when people try and figure out what I'm doing ^_^ All questions will be answered in due course. And here's two of mine... What do you count as an epic....? and Is this chapter long enough? Well even if you do complain I like where I ended it... Muha!

Assena, it's a STICK! Sorry. All I could think of to say. ^_^ *starts singing about boomerangs*

Goodnight all!

Chapter Fifteen: Communication and War

Gohan lay on the ground somewhere in the middle of the city, carefully watching the sky. He'd been brought down by a blast of incredible power as 18 had joined the fight, but he was pretty sure she'd hit her brother just as hard. He rolled onto his stomach, pushed himself onto his feet and ducked behind some rubble, waiting for air to enter his lungs after it retreated somewhere free from abuse when he'd hit the ground. He didn't want to be caught breathless when the couple started looking for him, again.

There was another blast about a block to his left , and some outraged yelling on 17's part. Gohan couldn't make out words, but it sounded as if the male was not happy about his sister blasting him as well as Gohan.

18 yelled back, just as outraged, and Gohan wondered if he'd have the miraculous luxury of watching his two most hated enemies finish themself off. It was almost too much to hope for, and Gohan tried hard to hope and not to hope; it was too hard, having high hopes dashed, but he wanted them dead so much!

18 drew her arm back and in no time at all a black streak shot through the air mere feet away from Gohan and shattered through a window, sending glass shards flying in all directions. Gohan followed, arm shielding his eyes, and pounded both his fists into 17 on his bounce from the ground, making him bounce again. The android came back the second time ready for Gohan's attack, cursing his sister while he shot blast after blast in Gohan's ever-moving direction.

Trunks dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stop his tears while bringing his breathing back into it's regular motion. His right hand hit his scouter, which he'd forgotten he was wearing, and he took it off and stared at it, thinking of nothing while letting the cool air dry his too-warm eyes. He thought about crushing the scouter in his hand, then thought 'These are communication devises... I wonder if I can find something to amplify the signal. I wonder if I could get through to Earth.'

It was a long shot, but worth clutching at straws. Trunks picked himself up and walked the length of the roof, round to the opposite side of the Palace from the Krinchi quarters. He swung over the edge and drifted downwards peering in through the windows, looking for something that resembled his mothers lab, big computers or some such.

It took him a long while to find a promising window, but the room it looked into was empty -it was probably about three in the morning, and unless Saiyans were like Bulma and sort of forgot about time when they were working, then there probably weren't going to be any close by, either. The window was locked, but he pulled out a handful of ki and watched as the window slowly melted. "Now that's cool." Trunks whispered to himself, a true ten year old boy, and wondered why he'd never tried melting things before. He slipped through the window, looked around through the group of rooms just to make sure no one was around, then looked for a computer that resembled...well, anything recognisable.

The room was a large one, computers and other instruments lined the walls, and a large table in the middle of the room. There were four doors leading into four other rooms of the same design, but Trunks stayed in the one with his melted window, a quick exit in case anyone should wake up.

He thought he could probably manage to work out the largest computer by the far wall, especially if the green folds of paper underneath the chair was a manual. It wasn't, but there was one in the store cupboard near the door. Trunks became very glad that he hadn't smashed his scouter, not only did it translate from Saiyan, it translated into something he could actually understand, but he had an awful thinking-headache by the time he was done working it all out, nearly two hours later.

The computer switched on silently and waited for instructions, and Trunks -with frequent trips back to the manual to find out his next instruction- gave them to it. He spent too long for his liking -it would be getting light soon- searching around the back of the computer looking for the right plug to connect with his scouter, and even longer finding Earth's communication coordinates before the little box indicating he should speak popped up on the screen.

For a moment, Trunks sat staring at the screen. He wasn't sure he'd actually believed he could do it, but the square on the screen clearly indicated that he had. Regaining sense, Trunks pressed the little yellow button as the manual indicated and on tip toes leaned forward to the screen. "Hello?" He said experimentally.

Somewhere in Argentina a group of very surprised astronomers were choking on their lunch as their instruments picked up unidentified signals from somewhere out in space.

"Mi Dios!" Cried one, swallowing a pickle, but getting over the surprise rather well. "A-Alo?"

"Hi, um, is this Earth?"

There was a short conversation in astonished Spanish between the man and his workmates.

Trunks tried again. "Can you get me Bulma Briefs, from Capsule Corp? Please?"

"S-Senora Breifs? Si, ella conozco....un momento."

There was another conversation, then an argument, then some keyboard noises. Trunks waited.

It took rather longer than a minute, with frequent requests that he wait 'un momento' more. The wind was picking up outside the window, fluttering the manual and blowing at Trunks' hair. Trunks stood up to shut the window but remembered there wasn't one to shut when he reached it. Over the horizon dawn was breaking, or false dawn at least, a little natural light adding to the never-quenched lights of the city. Trunks stuck his head out the window to feel the wind, which was blowing wildly now, crashing against the Palace wall with a vengeance. He took a deep lungful of it, and realised that he was hungry, and that he hadn't slept all night.

 A sleepless night would be well worth it though, if he could get through to Bulma before anyone barged in and tried to stop him.

Trunks left the window and picked up a chair, forcing it against the door leading to the hallway in one of the other rooms. He did the same for the other three doors in the other three rooms, then the each door between him and them. He didn't think for a minute that the chairs would stop anyone, but at least he'd hear anyone trying to come in, and have a few seconds before they burst in, getaway time.

Sitting back down at his computer, Trunks watched the blank screen and listened to its whirrs and whizzes while it thought. He rescued the manual from blowing out the window, and set it down under a chair.

"Come on." Trunks moaned, bored as well as anxious. "Hurry up."

Perhaps three minutes later, the computer beeped and the screen fuzzed grey. Trunks jolted upright from his slouch, and watched the screen with baited breath. The grey fuzz picked up colour, and too slowly turned into Bulma's face, looking tired and overworked.

"Mum?" Trunks whispered, scarcely daring to believe, it would drain too much if he woke up now, and found it was all a dream.

Bulma seemed to jerk awake more than her son had. She's just had a rather long and difficult conversation with someone who's accent was so thick she could barely understand it, and was in a bad mood from being dragged away from the ship in order to answer a call from ...where?

"Trunks?" She gasped. "Oh my boy! Are you alright!?" She'd leaped off her chair and had one hand up against the screen.

"Mum!" Trunks felt like dancing round the room. He'd done it! "I'm-I'm alright, I guess." He said.

"You guess?" Bulma demanded. "Trunks, where are you?"

"Planet Vegita." Trunks said slowly, as if it was his own fault he was there. Bulma didn't notice.

"Oh we thought so! Oh Trunks, I've missed you too much!" Bulma's eyes pricked, but she blinked back the tears.

"I've missed you too, I want to come home! But..."

"Well don't you worry about that, we're coming- there's a but?"

Trunks smiled wryly. "My friend is in danger, and I don't want to run away and leave her. The person who's trying to kill me won't-"

"WHAT!?" Bulma shrieked. "There's someone there who's trying to kill you?! Are you sure you're alright!"

"I am now." Said Trunks, not sure that he was but too proud to say anything else. "I'm pretty sure I know who it is, and I have tasters-"

"What?" Bulma interrupted again, not quite so loudly.

"Um." Trunks said. "Um, I'm kind of here as their Prince."

Bulma was silent as she absorbed this information. "Well, you better not get used to it." She threatened, and Trunks laughed.

"I don't think it's possible to get used to. What I'm saying is, I was trying to find a way off but now, I think I have to stay and sort things out for a little longer, this place is really messed up, mum, I can't leave people in danger-mum don't cry!"

Bulma couldn't help it. She had practically crawled onto her desk to get closer to the screen, and she couldn't stop her tears now. He sounded much older than he was, it wasn't right for a child to sound so responsible. He sounded like Goku. Bulma drew in a shaky breath. " Oh Trunks! I want you back home!" She wailed, then swallowed her sob and calmed down, trying hard to accept it. "Just don't...do anything stupid. Promise me." She raised both her eyebrows, and looked at him.

"I won't." Promised Trunks, putting his hand up to the screen next to her's.

"Good, because sometimes you take after your father in that respect." Bulma smiled. "And you-what?"

Trunks had tensed visibly as he heard the far door's knob turn and someone bang into the door. "I have to go! Love you mum, say hi to Gohan for me!"

"Trunks? I love you too! Take care!" Bulma called, as Trunks dropped under the computer desk and yanked all the cords out of their sockets. The scren fizzled grey then died into black as the door in the room next door was bashed down loudly, Trunks ran for his window, and the door between him and them was rattled then forcibly opened.

By the time the workers had entered the room it was empty, all but for the wind blowing wildly through the usually still air, a lot of misplaced chairs and a melted down window.

Sena and Pasha had both passed through the doors of the headquarters before the wind picked up into a rough and violent storm outside. It was the same place Sena had come after loosing her bracelet, the small upper level resembling a misfortunate house while the lower level -below ground- had chairs and desks scattered about. Pasha pushed the door open and entered the room, a few of the dozens of saiyans gathered there turned to face them, then went back to their conversations. The room was warm from the body heat of the saiyans, men and woman brought together by what the Council and their alliance with the Arkosians had done to their lives.

Sena followed Pasha as she pushed her way through to her own little corner, and sat down on her chair.

"You're supposed to be at the Palace." A low voice spoke up from the couch by Pasha's desk.

Sena's heart called out 'Daddy!' and she ran forward three steps before getting control of herself and stopped. "Welcome home, Father." She smiled.

"I fetched her back, Bardock," Pasha said. "There were rumours flying everywhere, a Krinchi her description, a knife in the Prince's room."
Bardock looked up at Sena. "You were careless?"

"I was set up." Sena said defensively. She sat down heavily in another chair.

Bardock frowned. "Brilliant." He growled, "and how long did it take you to get that position?" He asked rhetorically.

Sena didn't say anything; it wasn't her fault, but she wouldn't say so.

"Do you know who?" Bardock asked.

"Lushka, Maroda's daughter." Sena said. Bardock flinched at Maroda's name. Sena went on. "The girl's been getting close to the Prince, it's her mother's hand that guides her."

"That doesn't explain why she set you up."

Sena swallowed hard. "She knows about me." She said, sinking in her chair."About you, I mean, and who you are. She said she'd expose you -everyone- if I didn't try to kill the Prince the first night. His Jerkship backed her up, they're in it together."

Bardock's fists clenched until his knuckles were white and the wood cracked under his large hands. "That snake." He spat. "It all started with her, she's the evil at the core." He stood up and started pacing. Many of the other saiyans turned to watch.

"Her? I thought Parsnal started everything." Sena said before she could stop herself. A murmur of agreement went up through the newer members of the Rebel gathering. But those who had been with Bardock and his crew since the beginning knew well the events that lead to the birth of the Rebels. The events that mattered little now, except to Bardock, and to Sena, and  because present conditions were more crucial they were not passed on to newer members.

"The snake...knew your mother." Bardock said, still pacing as if sitting still were too much of an effort. Sena sat up straight; it was a rare thing to hear her father talk of her mother. "They were friends since childhood, they grew up in the Palace. Their friendship deteriorated when Alina was picked as mate for Prince Vegita. We had met sometime before, and had our son before he was sent off. The Council knew nothing of that, to blind to see through their gold-dripped eyelids. Maroda hated her once best friends with all the jealousy her heart could muster. Alina knew this, but she would not accept it. It wasn't the danger she was in from her friend that drove her into exile, it was the looming wedding to Prince Vegita. She appeared at my door the night before the public ceremony, and we left the city. I don't believe Maroda ever stopped hunting us, although we moved so many times we were sure we'd shake her off. I would have wrung her evil neck the first chance I got," Bardock clenched his fist round the chair arm even tighter. "And I had chances, but she was still Alina's best friend. Alina, at least, believed she could come back, and so I let her live."

Sena moved closer to her father, and slipped her arm through his. He didn't show it, but he appreciated the gesture; it was something her mother would have done.

"One night," Bardock continued, "maybe four years after you were born, Sena, and a just under five since we had left the city, the Council formed their allegiance with the Arkosians. It was a shaky deal, at first, money alone couldn't seal it. Alina believed that perhaps Maroda had cooled off by this time- Prince Vegita had left the planet a few months beforehand, and now Alina saw no reason for her jealousy- so she went to find her, which was the most foolish thing she had ever done, or the bravest.

I don't know what that snake said to her, or what she did, but Alina was given as the first Saiyan gift to the Arkosian leader." The arm of the chair shattered into splinters under his hand. "The Council's true power was born that night, as was ours." Bardock finished, "that's where it all began."

Sena swallowed. "The Prince- The Prince said he would get her back." She said, looking up at her father, who was much taller than she was (she had always pictured her mother to be as tall as she, as she had received none of her height from her father.) Bardock shook his head.

"She died." He said. "Four years ago, I felt it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sena said, her voice almost a squeak. She felt her eyes prick as her hopes were slashed, and she stood up quickly. "Excuse me." She said, and left the meeting room.

No one moved. Then Pasha kicked Bardock's shin, with a good deal of force behind it. "Go after her, imbecile." She said. "Tell her now."

Bardock glared at her, then looked around the room as he stood up. "Get back to work, everyone, there's a lot that needs organising before the Seventh Night." He ordered, speaking of the final night of the Tournament. He left through the same door as Sena, and caught sight of her leaving the upper level.

"Sena." He said, and she stopped in the doorway, but didn't turn around. The fierce wind tore through the room.

"You let me believe we were fighting to get her back." She accused, her voice low. "You lied to me."

"Mm." Said Bardock thoughtfully. "Shut the door."

Sena did, slowly because she had to fight the wind for control. Once it was shut, she leaned up against it, letting it support her. There was a long pause before anyone spoke again.

"I meant what I said." Bardock said finally. "You're supposed to be at the Palace."

This was unexpected. Sena was confused. "I can't go back now-" She began, but stopped, because there was a look in Bardock's dark eyes she hadn't seen before. "What do you mean?" She asked.

"I mean the Council never had any right to take the throne, even with the Prince gone. The eldest heir always rules. Even that little half pint they found shouldn't be on the throne."

"...What?" Sena said carefully.

You should be Queen." He said. "Alina...your mother-"

Sena didn't like where this was going. "Don't." She said, putting together pieces of a confusing and complicated puzzle. "Don't say it. I'm not..."

Bardock looked uncomfortable, heart to heart talks were not any Saiyans specialty. "Tradition goes the couple spent the night together before the public wedding ceremony, which is always a day after the private one."

"I'm NOT!" Sena cried out. "You're my father. Say you are!"

Bardock was silent.

"Say it." Sena pleaded. Bardock walked forward and let himself hug her. Even with her face buried in her chest, Sena wouldn't allow herself to cry.

"You'd make a wonderful Queen, but Maroda...she knows I'm not your father, she knows you're the one really standing in her way of the throne. Alina told her, that night she went back, but Maroda knows there's no proof, and so you're only considered a threat through me. She's making your life misery because of whose child you are."

"I'm not a child." Sena half-heartedly muttered into his armour.

"Wait till the Seventh Night." Bardock said. "The Council is going down and Maroda with it. I'll take our revenge then, and we'll be free of them all. It's not long now. Just wait."

Gohan dodged a good number of 17's blasts, but the first one that hit him, hit him hard in his shoulder and sent him backwards. With the shock came the sudden realisation, the sudden idea of something he could do, and that he was going about the fight all wrong. Gohan flew low through the streets, dodging and keeping well out of sight until he found a place far enough from the twins but close enough so if they ran off he would know. He dropped to the ground and let his power level free; if this was to work he needed all the strength he had, and could loose none keeping his power suppressed. He intensely hoped that this would work, but was it even possible to learn an attack from a story of his father? For Earth's sake, he hoped so.

Taking two handfuls of earth, Gohan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, summoning all his energy into his hands.

'Planet Earth, lend me your strength.'

An invisible ripple swept out from Gohan, touching everything in it's path.

Many miles away, Chichi stumbled as her legs gave out beneath her, and she clutched the arm of the couch and tried to pull herself up, but any strength to do so with was gone. She leaned against the couch, arms wrapped around it, and just concentrated on breathing.

Bulma was asleep, and didn't notice what energy she'd regained from her talk with Trunks or her short sleep leave her. She would wake up feeling more tired than she had gone to sleep, and she had gone to sleep with dozens of hours to catch up on. Whatever dreams she was having left her, and drifted out the window in tiny motes of twinkling energy.

All over the world, people were finding themselves without the energy to walk, many fell into sleep as they were, many began to weep as they believed this was the end of their strength and the androids had finally won at last. Few noticed that the air was thick with tiny, shining lights all heading purposefully in the same direction.

Gohan watched as the ball in his hands grew and grew, and knew that it was not enough. The androids would notice the luminescent quality the air had taken on, and would see it all heading towards him. They would come soon. And it wasn't big enough. Gohan reached further inside himself for the power to release into the ball, his Spirit Bomb. Frowning in concentration he searched, and was rewarded by a full stream of light pouring out from his chest, but punished by his vision going double as he began to feel faint.

18's head snapped up as she saw small lights forming on her skin, then blowing away as if on a wind, although the air was purely calm. She tried to grasp them, but they flowed between her fingers, through her clothes, heading towards their destination. She looked down at 17, and lights were forming around him too, as he sat up and brushed himself off, brushing many of the tiny stars off him as he did so.

"What is this?' He asked his sister, joining her in the air. The two of them looked south, following with their eyes the stream of lights.

"I don't know. But I don't like it." 18 said. "Come on." She ordered, and the androids flew towards Gohan.

Gohan lay full length on the ground, not even wanting to waste the energy to stand. His hands shook on the ground, and the ball lay warm and soft between them, gently touching his skin as if comforting him.

'Please be enough. By all the Kamis in the universe. Please be enough.'

Gohan looked up. The two figures of his nightmares stood before him, smiling sadistically.

Neither spoke. They each took their place on either side of him, and raised bright blasts in their hands.

Gohan willed his small sun into the air. 17 watched it rise, unnerved that lights from his skin were still flowing into it, but 18's cold eyes were on Gohan.

"Well, at least you'll die looking at something pretty." She commented, and thrust her blast downwards into Gohan's unprotected back.

Gohan's Spirit Bomb shivered, and without any sign from it's maker, dropped from the air like a rock, shooting down towards the trio.

The power of the blue planet smashed into ground a moment after 18's blast hit Gohan.

Their world exploded in a vast sheet of white flame.