"Why is the slave in the regen tank?" Cyrane's question was like a terrible blow to Avia. She gripped the tank's consol, trying to think of something to say as she glanced at her mother. Cyrane was frowning at the regeneration tank.
"He was badly hurt in an accident," Osper said, walking through the doorway. "Sister, it is good to see you again."
Cyrane folded into a quick hug with her brother. "Osper, what is going on?" she asked, her eyes sweeping the room. Avia's silence and the tension in Osper's gaze all told her something was going on, but she couldn't imagine what. "I want to know what is going on here," she said, adding a snap to her voice when no one answered.
"The boy was hurt," Osper said simply. "Since there were no nobles around, we let him use the tank."
Cyrane turned to him, her eyes wide at his audacity. "You recalibrated an entire tank for a slave?" she sputtered. "Osper, what were you thinking?"
Osper shrugged, trying to seem casual. "Humans are remarkably similar to Saiyans in their physiology, so little needed to be done to the tank," he remarked.
"Still Osper, I don't know what you were thinking," Cyrane huffed. "Let's get him out and reset the tank. We don't want to play favorites."
"He's only got an hour left," Avia said quietly. "I don't think leaving him for an hour will hurt."
Cyrane considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Fine, we'll leave him for an hour," she said, turning toward the main exit. "Avia, let's get you back to the Blood-rock. You need to restart your rituals."
"I'm not going," Avia said firmly. She hasn't been sure she could say it, but when she did, she knew that there was no other answer she could have given. She had promised Trunks she would be here when he woke up.
Cyrane froze, her hands closing into fists. Slowly, she turned to face her daughter; everyone in the room could see the effort she was putting into control herself. "What did you say?" she said with forced evenness.
"I said, I'm not going," Avia said, stepping away from the consol. "I'm staying here."
"Is there a reason you're defying me?" Cyrane asked.
Avia couldn't stop herself; her eyes flicked toward the regen tank. Cyrane caught the glance and gave an aggravated moan. "Avia, stop it right now!" she snarled. "He's a slave. While I don't mind you sleeping with him or spending time with him, you will not sacrifice your heritage for a weak creature not even strong enough to be free!"
"I told him I'd be here when he woke up," Avia stated boldly, her chin rising.
"Fine," Cyrane spat and raised her glowing hand. "Then he won't wake up!" As Osper screamed denial, the blast seared toward the tank.
Avia didn't scream, she moved, surprising her mother and her uncle when she intercepted the blast. Unfortunately, she had no time to set up a deflection; the blast slammed into her armor, throwing her backwards onto the tank. Thankfully, the plasti-glass dome of the tank held; it could take some physical abuse. Avia's armor was in worse shape; it was blackened from absorbing the energy of the blast. What hurt was her body from the impact of being tossed about. Ignoring the pain, she quickly scrambled to her feet, staying between her mother and the tank. "No, Mother, I won't let you hurt him," she growled, clenching her fists tightly.
"Fine, if you want to throw away your pride for this slave, then you're welcome to it!" Cyrane shouted. "But I am not so callous regarding my daughter!" Cyrane powered up, sending white light dancing over the room.
Avia gulped as her mother began to glow; she didn't think she'd manage to match her mother for long. But when Cyrane came toward her, Avia found that her mother was moving at a similar speed to herself.
Cyrane came in with a simple back-handed strike, intending to overwhelm her daughter with her immense power. But she was startled when Avia swept her hand away with a strong block and slammed her fist into Cyrane's stomach, doubling her over. Cyrane noted that the blow had actually hurt as Avia spun around her sharply, rolling Cyrane over her back and tossing her a several feet further from the regen tank.
"Why are you protecting him?" Cyrane hissed as she rolled to her feet.
"Trunks doesn't need my protection," Avia growled, dropping into a fighting stance. "This is about me and my choices. I choose to stay and I will."
"Is this your challenge?" Cyrane said icily, drawing herself into a defensive stance. No Saiyan was considered an adult until they were stronger than the parent who was the same sex as themselves. Cyrane was demanding that Avia would have to become an adult before could do as she wished.
"Yes," Avia said, feeling worry and elation. All Saiyans looked forward to challenging the parent but most waited until they were sure. When they announced their challenge, their parent usually knew that the child was stronger and simply acknowledged it without a fight. In another three or four years, Avia would have certainly been ready; now, she wasn't sure.
"So be it," Cyrane said and brought her closed fists together, hurling balls of glowing energy at Avia. Avia jerked to the side and snapped her hand up, deflecting one ball that came too close. The blasts were small, but the speed at which they moved was impressive; Cyrane was trying to intimidate her and throw her off balance.
But Avia had spent months training off balance with her brother and Trunks. She had spent so much time flustered by the abilities of the purple-haired slave that she had become somewhat immune to the sensation in battle. Cyrane found this out when Avia snapped her flattened palm at the older Montessi without hesitation, emitting a scythe-shaped energy wave that flew straight at Cyrane.
One look at the energy beam told Cyrane she couldn't deflect it; she was forced to throw herself over it. When she landed, Avia was waiting with a sharp punch. Cyrane managed to get her arm down to block it; in the same move, she swept her forward foot against her daughter's legs, knocking them out from under her.
Avia felt her feet slip and she ignited her flight, letting the momentum from her mother's kick spin her body around until she was hanging upside down. She kicked at her mother's head as her feet neared the top of the arc. Cyrane couldn't block the unexpected move in time; her quick dodge saved her head but Avia's boots connected squarely with her right shoulder, spinning her away.
Osper crouched by the regeneration tank, watching the flight apprehensively. He wanted to help, but Avia had made it clear this was an adult challenge, and he could only wait and watch. A sudden beep from his scouter caught his attention, and he focused it out to the south. The King's signature showed up in the read-out, and Osper cursed soundly. Estimating how long it would take the King to arrive caused him to curse again; Trunks had planned to challenge him as soon as King Vegeta arrived, and it looked like the boy was going to be cutting it damned close.
He briefly debated removing Trunks early, but shook off the idea. If the regen session was cut short, it could leave the boy wounded still; the last damage healed was usually the delicate nervous system, and there were a multitude of problems associated with removing someone early. No, he finally decided, while Trunks would most likely be fine, he wouldn't risk it unless things got worse – much worse.
A grunt from Cyrane caught his attention, and Osper turned back to the fight. Praying to the long-forsaken Saiyan gods, he hoped that Avia could hold off her mother for long enough.
Trunks woke up in the regeneration tank, slowly coming around. Something was wrong; he could feel it. The nagging suspicion in his gut was vindicated when Avia shot past his viewport on the wrong end of a ki blast; it slammed her into the wall on the other side of the cave.
With a curse, Trunks hit the emergency release; with a sudden change in pressure, the tank started to drain. Outside the viewport, Cyrane stalked past the regen tank, her hands glowing; Trunks again cursed the slowly-draining liquid as he watched the fight. Cyrane suddenly ducked under a glowing wave of energy and dove back the way she had come. Avia leapt back into view, her fist swinging through the air where her mother had just been.
"What the hell?" Trunks said as he pressed his face forward to see better.
Osper appeared in front of him and waved at him, then looked at the console and held up three fingers followed by a closed fist. Trunks nodded, hoping had guessed the meaning behind Saiyan's hand signal and that he would be out of the tank in thirty seconds.
Prince Vegeta slammed into the floor of the courtyard, unable to even stop himself from rolling. It wasn't the first time his father had dropped him on the flight back home, but it was the shortest fall yet. When his father's punishing hands didn't grab him again, he carefully lifted his pounding head. He didn't think that things could get worse, but they had; he recognized the Montessi palace's Pit. The War Pit was the traditional place that challenges of succession were fought.
It was also where traitors were executed. Considering that his father had been calling him traitor all the way home, Vegeta was pretty sure what use his father had for it today. Of course, he was in enough pain that he wasn't sure he cared at his point. Oh, some part of him was disappointed; the other parts just wanted to stop hurting.
"Call the people," he could hear the King saying. "We have a traitor."
"Sir?" the servant answered, his eyes flickering to the broken Prince.
"Don't question my orders!" King Vegeta roared, spinning on the terrified Saiyan. "Call the people for the trial."
Prince Vegeta felt fear trail down his spine. It was easier to consider his death calmly when it was still far away. But now that it was here…
The stories that his mother had told him of her first and only true mate came back to him, and Vegeta clung to them. Gyro had died proud and silent, and Vegeta vowed silently to emulate the man who should have been his father. Gods of Vegeta-sai, let me be strong enough to die honorably, he silently prayed, wishing that he knew their long-forgotten names. Watch my mother and my sister. Let them find their peace with honor. And make my brother strong, for I will need to be avenged.
Avia rolled onto her elbow, ignoring the pain that moving caused. She had to figure out what her mother's state was, before Cyrane got the drop on her. And a note to myself, taking a blast so that I can exchange a better one is not a good idea, she thought.
But perhaps her strategy had worked better than she had thought; Cyrane was lying in a heap on the floor. But as Avia watched, her mother twitched and began to move. Avia herself bit back a groan as she pushed herself to get to her feet first. She might have enough power to get off another blast…
Strong, familiar arms wrapped around her, but Avia for once wasn't interested in embracing Trunks. "Let go," she snapped. "If you interfere in the challenge--"
"Avia, the King is here," Trunks said quietly. His arms relaxed as she stopped fighting him; instead she was frowning with concentration as she reached out with her ki.
Avia gasped suddenly, her hands tightening on Trunks' arm. "Vegeta is there too, but he's so weak! What's wrong with him?"
"I don't know," Trunks admitted, "but we have to go see." A grunt from Cyrane drew their attention; she was struggling with Osper, who was gathering her up. Trunks turned back to Avia with a tight, ironic smile. "You and your mother can finish this later. Right now, we have a bigger fight to attend."
"What?" Avia blinked up at him, so focused on her own fight that she couldn't comprehend what Trunks might mean.
Trunks' smile became grim as he picked her up in his arms. "I'm going to challenge the King. Today, right now, because I can't pretend anymore that I am a slave. I'm the Legendary, and one way or another, he'll acknowledge me today."
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