Chapter Thirty-Eight: All Falls Down

"I don't want to feel like this will never be over

And I don't want to sit and think about what's going wrong

I don't want to feel like this will never be over

'Cause it feels like I've been falling for so damn long

When it all falls down and you know

There's no way that you can get out

When it all falls down and you know

There's no way that you can get out…"

All Falls Down – Adelita's Way

DBZ

The bridge was dim and mostly silent, the only sounds being the faint tapping of keyboards and various bloops and bleeps. The holographic projection of a small, beautiful blue and green planet spun serenely as it hovered in the center of the bridge, easily dwarfing Frieza in his fully transformed state. Arms folded across his nearly shimmering silver chest his burning red reptilian eyes bore into the display while his immaculate silver tail listed lazily behind him. Continuous furtive glances from the crew were stolen his way.

Frieza ignored them; this new crew had yet to adjust to his full powered form. It didn't matter to him whether or not they did anyway. If it made them fear him all the more, then he could ignore their annoyingly constant glances. Hell, he could enjoy, even bask in, the attention. He reveled in the knowledge that most beings would quake and bow before him in dread. He was Death itself; the entire universe living in constant fear, never knowing when they, too, would meet their ends at the hands of the almighty Frieza.

A sinister grin twisted his purple lips, his eyes becoming thin slits as he drew closer to the image before him. Soon a new planet would learn to fear him. Soon he would completely eradicate the last of the Saiyans and the Gylderians from the universe. And he would do it alone, as he had decided not to contact his father and brother. He didn't need their help to finish this petty little war, not when he was already in his most powerful form. And especially not after he'd spent so much time training in that blasted gravity room. It was one of his least favorite of his father's ideas, but it was definitely one that had been most beneficial to him.

He had no way of knowing just how powerful he had grown since he began his training, given that no scouter existed capable of detecting anything beyond a couple million. He knew his power level was far higher than that, though. Even more so, he was sure, after his training; a fact that both pleased and disconcerted him. While he thoroughly enjoyed his power gain, he despised having been forced to work; and in front of his own men no less! His father would come to regret that order in the future; he would make certain of that. His power was growing and with it his irritation.

Add in his deplorable older brother's discovery of a fifth form, and he began to truly despise everything in the universe that had to do with him and his father. He loathed seeing Coola's face, or even hearing his voice; not to mention even being in the same star system with him. He was, however, able to take solace in the fact that he would eventually unlock his own fifth form; when he did, he would be the most powerful being in the entire universe. He would surpass even his insufferable father.

He despised the way his father ruled over the universe. He favored passively watching as events unfolded, whereas Frieza preferred to deal with them firsthand. Sure he could acknowledge that the Saiyan situation had gotten a tad bit out of hand, but Frieza had been careless. He would admit to that, especially after underestimating Tettuce the way he had. He had learned and would not make that mistake again.

As for these supposed "Super Saiyans" that his brother, Coola, claimed to have fought; he merely scoffed at the idea. He would place no merit in the children stories of an extinct race of filthy simians. Even if they did exist, Coola claimed to have killed two of the three he fought. If he could handle two, Frieza would easily deal with one. That was assuming they existed, however. Frieza knew they did not, though. There was no possible way they could.

His father's nonsensical ramblings of the "legendary" Saiyan transformation were nothing more than deluded views of ancient memories. Given the length of time, it was safe to say his father's memories had become less than reliable. With that to consider, Frieza felt it was high time his father stepped down and left the ruling to someone younger, and more willing to take care of business. Someone…like him.

He grinned and his tail whip-cracked through the air, causing his entire crew to jump in fear. He allowed himself a low chuckle as he continued to gaze fondly at the planet displayed before him. He watched the swirling white clouds creep across the surface, blotting out the landmasses and bodies of water.

"Soon, people of Earth," Frieza whispered under his breath. "Very soon you shall know Lord Frieza…"

DBZ

Gohan smiled wistfully as he looked up at the treetops overhead. Birds chirped and squirrels twittered a greeting as he passed beneath. He chuckled and waved merrily to the critters as Kakarott—despite his best efforts to call the boy Goku, his Uncle Turles had continuously shot him down—tottered along the path in front of him.

Wonderful Mount Paozu. Gohan couldn't help but to grin. One couldn't ask for a better place to live—

A powerful shockwave from high above the forest canopy rocked the area, sending the wildlife scampering away. Gohan craned his head back to look up at two distant dots zipping back and forth across the clear blue sky.

"Turwes!" Kakarott waved his stubby arms in glee, his face beaming with innocent delight at the display.

Gohan arched an eyebrow as he looked at the boy. It'd taken most of his life for him to master his own martial arts abilities. He'd undergone years of arduous training that had broken his mind, body, and spirit in ways he couldn't even imagine beforehand. All of it done to master abilities that these Saiyans displayed with natural ease. It was confounding!

Gohan had been elated to spar with Turles; he'd gathered early on that the boy was rather skilled, and despite his advanced age, Gohan was a rather skilled fighter himself. Or so he thought until he actually fought with him; though, he hadn't guessed that the boy was on a level that Gohan couldn't even begin to imagine.

Over the past few months he'd quickly learned that Turles and his companion, Etapa, were on a level all their own. Until he'd met them, the strongest fighter he knew had been his mentor and master, Muten Roshi; a man that had long retained the title of the Strongest Under the Heavens. He'd noticed early on that Turles was still considerably stronger than the female Saiyan, but he'd also become aware of the fact that she was progressing rapidly. The Saiyans gained strength faster than his hair had turned gray. His great, by Earth standards that is, strength didn't even make up a fraction of what they gained in just a handful of weeks.

When the two first began sparring, shortly after their initial arrival, it'd been clear that Etapa was no match for the wild-haired Saiyan man. He mostly just toyed with her before giving her a sound, if rather violent, beating. But she'd come a long a way in a short time, reaching a point where she was nearly on par with Turles.

Gohan couldn't keep up with their full speed, but he was more than capable of tracking their tremendous ki. He opened his senses to allow their ki to wash over him…

He was almost flattened by a force that dwarfed even their combined power. His heart skipped a beat and he felt the color drain from his face as he felt the malevolence that corrupted the otherwise magnificent ki. It sent shivers down his spine and chilled his very soul; it felt so cold and cruel. Gohan steadied himself against a nearby tree; he was having trouble catching his breath. That incredible power belonged to something that was clearly not seeking peace. He'd never experienced such a…pure evil before.

He looked up; he couldn't see anything, but he could feel the evil ki high overhead. Whoever it belonged to was not of this world…

DBZ

Bardock reacted, barely ducking beneath Seripa's relentless strike; she cursed and brought her knee up in a flash of an attack, connecting with his jaw and snapping his head back. She followed up by driving her right fist forward in a powerful jab to his exposed chest; his dense bulk collided with the far wall of the training room and came to an abrupt stop, his impact not even leaving a blemish. He dropped to his knees heavily, cradling his jaw as he shot a look at her across the room.

She smirked as she dropped into a stance; her fists were raised about chest high, and she stood with her feet a little more than shoulder-width apart. She jerked her head tauntingly; she was enjoying roughing her mate up, especially since he refused to transform against her. She still had the edge on strength against him, but only when he was in his base state. He was unbeatable if he became a Super Saiyan. Not even Amotto could take him down; it was clear that Bardock had taken the lead in overall strength upon his ludicrous ascension.

He was predictable, though; she had vehemently refused to speak to him about what had transpired, and as a result he refrained from transforming in front of her. To be fair she didn't want to see him transform anyway. And she wasn't too proud to admit that she was enjoying the tension that had built between them in the week since. If only because it helped to take her mind off of everything that had happened. As of late she was finding it increasingly distracting as her mind constantly wandered to things like Turpin being her father and his abrupt death; the mysterious Ka'bijj; the equally mysterious Mejai; and of course Bardock's ascension. The result of all this was a tidal wave of mixed emotions that threatened to incapacitate her.

So Seripa had let the tension build, refusing to settle up with Bardock. She insisted on training with him, though he was obviously reluctant. Amotto had offered to train with her instead, but she'd adamantly refused. She wanted to train with Bardock, and that was that. She wanted him to endure the discomfort of her scathing remarks and withering glares, even if it was to take her own mind off of things she'd prefer to ignore. She had more important things to focus on like killing Frieza and getting back at Bardock for his caustic remarks.

It was petty, she knew, but she hadn't addressed the situation since she'd stormed off after Bardock's absurd transformation. But she'd needed time to herself to understand what had transpired and analyze his words. She knew, had always known, that Bardock was never willing to share his innermost thoughts. Even if he did, he couldn't really articulate them anyway. He always let his actions speak, and in the case of his transformation his actions had been explosive.

She knew that Bardock was at the very least harboring a small measure of regret for his tumultuous outburst. He would never admit as much, the stubborn ass that he was, but it'd made him wary around her. He might not have even realized it either, but Seripa sure did. Her mate was an open book to her when he wasn't withdrawn within himself.

Seripa watched him rise slowly to his feet, wincing ever so slightly and touching his stomach.

"Is that it?" she scoffed. "I ain't done yet. Keep this up and you might wanna consider stepping things up," she taunted haughtily.

Her mate straightened up and arched an eyebrow. Without warning he lunged forward, blurring almost out of sight in his insane speed. He closed the distance between them in a blink, launching himself into a sidekick at the last second; Seripa side-stepped it easily, her fist cutting across Bardock's face and flooring him with a thunderous shockwave. She stood over his prone form and smirked as she stuck her hands to her hips.

"Come on, Bardock," she crooned. "You're gettin' your ass beat by your weak mate."

Bardock spat some blood out and glanced up at her with a scowl. "I ain't ever thought of you as weak and you know it."

"Oh, can it." She grimaced and looked away. "We both know that ain't true."

"Gods,Woman!" He stood up and glowered at her. "Why don't ya just let it out already!? Get pissed at me! Stop playin' this stupid-ass game!"

Seripa was silent as she scowled at him. So what if she was playing a game? It obviously amused her; given their current standing he was better off, in her mind, just playing along. He refused to transform against her, so she could more or less do as she liked. There was, after all, no one to really stop her. Amotto and Zether were training in another room, and Seluri was off meditating.

Bardock had pissed her off; why shouldn't he pay for it? She was being absurdly petty she suddenly realized. Her mood instantly soured and she sighed.

"This is gettin' boring." She shook her head and turned away.

"Are you gonna be this way while we're fightin' Frieza?" Bardock suddenly fumed. "You're gonna get yer ass killed! Is that what you want?"

Seripa looked at Bardock in surprise. He was getting pissed; she grinned. "That's more like it!"

But he didn't react the way she wanted, instead grimacing in what appeared to be disgust.

"I ain't playin' this game, Seripa." He turned to walk away.

She phased before him and drove her knee into his gut, doubling him over; unrelenting she fired a blast point-blank into his chest, the explosion throwing him into the not-so-distant wall. He fell to his hands and knees, his face screwed up in a pained expression as smoke rolled off his singed chest-plate.

"You playin' now?" she asked, her tone sickeningly sweet.

Bardock snapped his gaze up to glare at her and she was delighted to see that his eyes were shimmering emerald. He snarled at her and vanished; there was a sonic boom as her head snapped back and her vision went black.

The next thing she saw was the ceiling of the training room; and then Bardock's knee materializing in her field of vision. Instinct kicked in and she rolled to the left, pushing herself from the floor and springing up and away; a blast slammed into her back mid-jump and she was rammed face-first into the unyielding wall with stunning force. She expected an immediate explosion, but the blast refused to detonate, instead flattening her against the wall and squeezing the air from her lungs; the intense ki burned against her body, rapidly degrading the sturdy material of her battle armor.

The pressure was suffocating; she couldn't move or resist at all. She could feel the ki pulsing and surging over her body, powerful enough to overcome her but not powerful enough to kill her. Seripa tried to fight back, but Bardock refused to let up. She had clearly pissed him off as he was treating her as he had when he'd first taken her on to his crew. She realized with a jolt that he was disciplining her like she was still a cadet! She struggled to open her eyes, but the pressure was too intense. Her arms and legs were spread out wide against the flat surface of the wall, the blast engulfing and squishing her against the solid surface; she couldn't do anything!

Oh to hell with this! "Spirit Burn! Multiple deuce!" No sense in overdoing it. Her aura exploded to life around her body, forcing the blast to curve around back to its owner. It dissipated as Bardock canceled it out. He leveled his intense green-eyed gaze on her as she spun to face him. Oddly his hair was still black; and this irritated Seripa. She scowled as her red and violet aura raged all around her. She clenched her fists and the aura intensified, surging violently upwards and sweeping her short hair on end.

She launched herself at him, her right fist cutting through the air on a path to Bardock's wide-open nose. With a sudden, fiery swelling of ki; an effervescent explosion of gold; and an uprising of golden hair, her mate transformed. His overwhelming ki rushed over her, easily throwing her harshly back into the wall and then to the floor. She trembled as she pushed herself up, visibly wincing in pain.

"This is why I ain't playin' your stupid game." Bardock folded his arms as he glared at her through his shimmering aura. "You keep eggin' me on tryin' to get me to transform. Now that I have, what fuckin' good has it done ya?"

She grimaced and looked at him sourly; her stomach did a sudden somersault and it was suddenly all she could do to keep from throwing up her breakfast. He'd really done a number on her just then.

He scoffed, his aura vanishing as he relaxed a bit; but he remained transformed. "It's been a damn week and we've done no serious trainin' because of your fuckin' attitude. We'll be at Earth in less than four days and neither of us has improved!"

She cut her gaze away as she climbed to her feet, fighting down a lingering wave of nausea. Seripa hated to admit it, but she knew Bardock was right. She'd allowed her bitterness to affect their training and they'd both suffered greatly for it. They were running low on time and she was still far from ascending. She stifled a sigh as Bardock continued:

"I'd hoped that you'd get your shit together a lot sooner, but it's clear my hopes were too high." He fell silent as he regarded her. His hair dropped back to its normal wild style and darkened to black, as did his eyes.

He snorted and turned away. "I'll take your silence to mean you've finally pulled yer head out yer ass."

Seripa felt a jab of anger and she growled; she opened her mouth to retort and was immediately hunched over, retching and being reacquainted with her breakfast.

Bardock paused at the sound of vomiting and looked around, an eyebrow cocked curiously. He watched as she coughed and then wiped a hand across her mouth. She looked up at him, a startled expression displaying the confusion that now replaced the rage.

"Are you gettin' sick?" Bardock asked tensely.

She scowled, though she understood where his concern was coming from; Saiyans so rarely got sick. Even the tiniest of sneezes was enough to set someone on edge. The shared consensus was that if one Saiyan could catch an illness, then they all could. Needless to say Saiyans did their best to avoid getting sick.

Seripa glanced down at the mess she'd made on the floor and grimaced. She didn't feel sick, though her stomach was beginning to cramp something fier-

"Oh gods…" she breathed in dawning realization, her eyes widening. She looked down at her abdomen in a mixture of shock and horror. "Not again!"

Bardock blinked, tilting his head slightly in confusion. "Whatcha talkin' 'bout, 'not again?' 'Not again' what?" Dense as ever.

She turned her violet-eyed gaze on her mate and responded with a semi-feral growl. "You oughta know, Bardock. You were the cause last time," she seethed through clenched teeth. She'd just been given an entirely new reason to be angry with her mate; never mind the fact that it took the actions of two to put her in this new position. Screw it. Just like everything else, this is entirely Bardock's fault!

He shook his head, not immediately comprehending. "The 'last time'," he echoed, frowning. "I don't—wait." He looked at her sharply, his eyes locking onto her stomach. After a few moments his perplexed gaze met hers questioningly.

Seripa gave him a curt nod and growled, "You better believe it, Buster."

Bardock slapped his hand to his face and exclaimed loudly, "Shit!"

DBZ

Zether sat against the wall of the training room, idly scratching his bearded face—he'd shaved the excess months ago—as he held a bottle of water in hand, taking a brief break from training. He'd even turned the gravity down from 100 to 30 so he could better relax. He hadn't had much time to reflect on all that had happened in the last few months. Some of the things that had happened—his resurrection for instance—hurt his head to think about. It'd been a while since he'd taken the time to think; he preferred to take action anyway.

But some things he just couldn't ignore. He couldn't forget that enchanting woman that had restored him to life. Vvalania had been her name; she'd also claimed to be something called an Aguatian. He hadn't yet had an appropriate opportunity to research the Aguatians, but his brother had even been perplexed by the enigmatic race. If his brother, the great historian, had no knowledge of the race then how would he learn anything about them?

Hm, maybe I'll ask Mejai later if he knows anything. He seems to know quite a bit about a lot of shit. It mildly amused him to entertain the idea that some greater being had conveniently introduced the mysterious man for that very purpose. Maybe it was true; if so, then Zether was confident in his assurance that he would be the obvious main character.

His luminescent, golden eyes were the only body parts he moved as he watched Amotto practically dance around the training room as she executed complex, mid-air flip and spin-kicks. He couldn't help but to be mesmerized by the fluid, seductive, way she moved. Her body curved sinuously with liquid serpentine grace; her underarmor stretched provocatively, accentuating her enticing feminine curves. Her sweat-soaked form, moving with such obvious sexual grace, served to distract him with sumptuous fantasies. It was an interesting fighting style, to say the least, and one he'd never seen the likes of before. Given its particularities he imagined it was a family style, most likely taught to her by a parent.

Must've been her mother he mused as he noted the distinctive feminine grace of the moves; it was a style transparently designed by and for women. I bet she was a very creative woman he thought with a brief, lecherous grin. Her mother must have been incredibly intelligent, as well. The style was clearly designed to distract male adversaries. Must've been a form of self-defense designed to lure an attacker into a false sense of security. I bet it has a very high success rate, too. It was a lot of fun to watch, that much he was sure about. In fact it was so much fun that he was emboldened to watch the suppler parts of Amotto's anatomy tremor and jounce with each move she executed. It was more than a little intoxicating.

Amotto might've had a face that was a little on the plain side, especially when compared to the likes of Aurah; but she had, Zether felt, the body of a goddess. Few would notice outside of battle, though. She did not carry herself with the same level of sexuality displayed in her fighting style, which Zether admittedly found odd; he also found it more than a little attractive. Who knew there existed a woman with a body like hers that didn't go about flaunting it?

He watched as she suddenly slid into a rapid-fire sequence of strikes and he grimaced as most were obviously designed to strike a man's crotch. Geez! I hope I never fight her. He'd trained solely with her since their departure from Fracture—the name was really catching on—but it was nothing like what he'd seen back on that nameless planet those many months ago. She'd been a relentless, violent adversary then. Though weaker than either he or Falmer, she'd still proven to be quite a handful.

Even so he immediately saw great potential in her; he also saw she was far too weak to be a significantly effective training partner. As such he'd devoted the majority of their training to pushing her base strength to a level that would allow her to contend with him. She'd initially wanted to transform to train with him, but he explained the importance of her pushing her base strength to enhance her Super Saiyan power. She'd immediately taken to the idea and dove into her training with a fervor that excited Zether.

Though he ached to be effective against Frieza in the inevitable upcoming battle, even he had to accept that at the moment the only two Super Saiyans had the best chance of all going into this fight. He'd do little more than serve as a distraction on both fronts; impeding both Frieza and his own allies. The best he could do now to help was to focus on Amotto's progression; he still planned to fight at some point, but for now he would live vicariously through this marvelous Saiyan woman.

Zether sighed. He had come to realize that, despite his proclamations, he just did not have the same thirst for battle he'd had before. Tettuce had been his number one rival, and his closest friend, for as long as he could recall. He remembered his younger years, during the earliest days following Tettuce's inception into the Gylderian Military Force. The majority of the military leaders were wholly opposed to his arrival, as well as his starting rank of Captain; the same rank he'd last held while working for Frieza. Only Zether's father, at the time Colonel Spark, had offered the hand of friendship to Tettuce.

The decision had been rather unpopular, but Spark was undeterred. Which had pleased Zether, because he'd taken an instant liking to the Saiyan when he first met him. He remembered that Tettuce had been cold and quiet, with an aura of indifference regarding everything and everybody surrounding him. He rarely gave any of the soldiers, or even his superiors, more than a passing glance. His battle-scarred face and his ever-present intense glare, coupled with his rumored nicknames, served to create an intimidating figure. And with his extraordinary strength, second at the time only to Spark, he certainly fit the stereotype of a mass murderer.

The first time Zether had seen him (how old had he been, 9 or 10?) he made an assumption regarding the Saiyan and he attacked him. The Saiyan never even looked at him, his fist bearing down on his unguarded face.

"Just a second, Colonel," he'd said as he casually caught the offending fist, and countered by tapping Zether's chest and sending him sprawling to the floor. He remembered when those cold eyes had turned on him and he'd hastily climbed to his feet. "You left yourself unguarded. I admire your enthusiasm, but you must maintain your defense even while on the offensive."

Zether's father had just watched on in interest, a smirk on his face as he folded his arms. "Now choose a stance that will serve you here…good. Clear your mind; focus on your target. Good. Now attack." And Zether had.

Tettuce guarded every strike with ease, but then Zether managed to feint and sneak in a strike on his exposed chest. Tettuce immediately sent him flying across the room and then turned to Spark. "He has potential."

The memory brought a grin to Zether's face. Before that day his father had refused to train him claiming that Zether was far too young. The very next day Spark began Zether's training, even allowing him to train with Tettuce at the Saiyan's suggestion. In his youth Zether had been an overly rambunctious boy, constantly wreaking havoc and stirring up mayhem. Even his assigned handlers couldn't keep track of the boy or keep his attention; nothing had ever seemed to appeal to him, aside from fighting. Training with Spark and Falmer had been satisfying in its own right, but Zether quickly discovered that his thirst for battle outpaced his peace-minded, collected brother, and even his father; before Zether made a name for himself, Spark had always been considered an oddity. His drive during battle had always been compared to that of the Saiyans; he'd even earned the faux title "The Saiyan of Planet Gylder."

But once Zether started training with Tettuce, it quickly became clear that Zether was far more deserving of the title. He was the only one, even with a much lower power level, that could push Tettuce to enjoy fighting again. Until he'd begun training the young Gylderian, Tettuce hadn't cracked a smile. Granted his first smile during battle hadn't occurred until after he'd developed his tenuous relationship with Leta and Surah, but Zether still liked to think he'd at least helped some. Especially since Tettuce had told Zether that he considered him the first true friend he'd ever had.

That, of course, hadn't been Zether's intention. But when Tettuce admitted that, Zether realized that he'd never really had a close friend before either. But he'd found that talking to Tettuce was as natural as if he were his older brother. He talked to him about things that he'd never mentioned to Falmer, his own flesh and blood, before. Some of the things had been embarrassing, he recollected with a grimace. Things that he should have been talking to his father or his brother about, not some random Saiyan officer. But Tettuce had surprised him by lending an ear; he shrugged off Zether's reluctance, saying: "You talk; I'll listen." And he had, with incredible patience given the stories Zether had always heard about his legendary rage.

A rage he'd never witnessed firsthand until that fateful day on Jynn-jin 13. Tettuce, my brother-from-a-Saiyan-mother, it should have been you that had been brought back. Zether firmly believed that; since he'd met him, Tettuce had always fought for the greater good. He took the most dangerous assignments so that others would not have to take the risk. Zether, on the other hand, took the most dangerous assignments so that he could better himself and keep up with Tettuce. His reasons had been obviously selfish; why did he deserve life over Tettuce? Hell, why did Bardock deserve life?

Bardock's ki suddenly swelled next door and Zether tried to ignore it; he still scowled, though. It only served to remind him of just how much he hated that man. To think that insufferable Saiyan had actually ascended, and so easily! It was infuriating, but he refrained from displaying his animosity. He'd already fallen victim to one cheap-shot from the dirty Saiyan, he sure as hell did not want to experience that Super Saiyan power firsthand.

Not yet, anyway. He would surpass Bardock one day, and he would teach the man a much needed lesson. He smiled as he returned to watching Amotto's fanciful moves; she didn't even seem to notice Bardock's brief transformation.

Zether blinked as it suddenly occurred to him that Amotto might not even know how to sense ki.

"Amotto!" he called to her. She executed a flying kick, landing lightly and immediately turning to him.

"What?"

"Can you sense ki?" he blurted.

She gave him a puzzled look. "No, I can't. I don't have that skill."

"Only 'cause no one's taught you," Zether replied with a laugh. He climbed to his feet, tossing his water bottle aside. "It's really easy to learn, though. I could teach you the basics in a few hours."

Amotto shrugged, obviously reluctant. "I don't know. I really think I should keep training."

"It'll help with your training, actually. It counts." He grinned at the dubious look she gave him. "Oh come on, now. We're still four days out anyhow; a few hours ain't gonna hurt your progress."

Her reluctance lingered as she stared up at him. "How useful can it really be?"

"Well, it'll help you find your enemies if they're hiding; there's also the added benefit of being difficult to sneak up on." He chuckled and gave a shrug. "It's just a suggestion, though. If you really don't want to, I won't force you."

"Oh, stuff it," she growled. He arched an eyebrow in response and she grinned. "Teach me; if it'll help in the fight with Frieza, then I'll take it."

Zether laughed again. "Thatta girl. Now, listen closely…"

The next few hours passed by in a blur; Amotto proved to be an appropriately attentive pupil. This surprised Zether given his previous experiences with her, but he had taken note of her altered attitude since he'd arrived to Fracture with the others. She definitely wasn't as angry as she'd been before, but Zether remained wary. He knew better than to drop his guard—though he'd had a momentary lapse in judgment with Bardock, allowing himself to become intoxicated by his power and confidence—thanks to Tettuce's instruction. He made no remarks to her about it during their training session; he kept to the task at hand.

It took a bit longer than he'd thought, but after about five hours Amotto had finally begun to become aware to the ki around her. And it seemed to mesmerize her as she looked upon Zether with newfound respect.

"I can feel it," she breathed as she kept her focused gaze on him. "I can feel it as if were my own…Whoa. This is what's it like to sense ki?"

Zether laughed. "Just wait until you've gotten better at it; you're only getting a vague sense of what's it really like. Keep working with it and by the time we get to Earth, you'll be able to sense ki almost as well as me." Her eyebrows snapped together; she cut her eyes up to bore into his and he quickly held his hands up, grinning. "No offense, Amotto. It's simple to learn, but it does take constant use to really master it."

"Hm, fair enough." She shrugged and her intense gaze softened as she relaxed her focus. She blinked. "Whoa. Even without trying, I can still sense your ki." She glanced at the wall, towards where she felt the vague outlines of Bardock and Seripa's respective powers. "This seems like it could become distracting."

"Eh," Zether shrugged. "The first few days are the worst," he admitted. "But once you get the hang of it, it'll be nothing more than a new awareness of the beings around you. It's actually pretty cool," he chuckled.

"More than cool, it does seem useful. Anyway, I'd say that about wraps it up then?" she asked as she started towards the computer inlaid into the wall next to the exit.

"Hm…" Zether thought for a moment as she reduced the gravity to the Galactic Standard of 1. He toyed with the idea of attacking her off guard and at full power. It'd be interesting to go all out…

Nah…he thought to himself, deciding against it. "Yeah, I'd say so. I'm getting hungry anyway, and I'm sure you are. You Saiyans are practically bottomless pits."

Amotto growled and cast him a mock glare. "Better guard your food then, Zether. We can also be rather indiscriminate as to where our food comes from." She smirked as he started to laugh.

"You got that right! I once saw Tettuce randomly blast this weird insect-thing, and then immediately take a bite out of it! 'Needs salt' he says." He chuckled.

Amotto smiled. "Sounds like he was a picky eater."

Zether deadpanned. "You call that picky? Holy shit!"

DBZ

Turles had never flown so fast in his life; the landscape beneath him changed at a rapid, if steady, rate. All the while he cursed himself for not bringing along a scouter. It sure would have rendered this little trip of his unnecessary. It had occurred to him that the princesses might already be aware of the nefarious power hovering over the planet like some sort of malevolent god.

Then again, ain't they all? He scowled and a purple-white aura erupted around him, his speed increasing drastically. No sense in playin' it safe at this point!

Hills, trees, mountains; they all blurred together beneath him into a collage of green, brown, red, and orange. Clouds raced by him in a rush; almost as soon as he spotted them, he was passing them by and leaving them in his wake. Occasionally he swept through, and dissipated one or more.

After hearing what the old man had to say about the massive ki bearing down on the Earth, he knew it was imperative he reach Leta and Surah; even if they did already know, he still had to reach them. He had to be there to help defend them!

Gods-be-damned…Turles, you really have gone soft. He grinned to himself and gave his head the barest of shakes. He didn't feel any different, but he knew something had changed in him.

Or had it? He'd never quite decided whether he'd been evil or just really angry; he was leaning more and more towards angry, though. His time with Etapa had revealed certain things about himself, namely his patience. That woman could test his limits, but she was relentless in her claims of his goodness.

To be true, looking back on all that had happened in his life, Turles really hadn't had the privilege of deciding his own fate. Without a predetermined path laid out before him he was finding that, given the choice, he'd rather follow a different route. He was finally beginning to understand what his brother had been saying…

It was beginning to make sense to him; everything was. He understood, based on what he'd managed to piece together, why the Saiyans had been integrated into the Cold Military Force. Now that he knew a little of the true Saiyan history, he began to suspect why the Saiyans had been kept under thumb.

If the Super Saiyan transformation really exists, then of course it makes sense to prevent us from realizing our full potential. Turpin is the damning evidence; his age confirms that we can live for a long time. So what else don't we know about ourselves?

Etapa had made a passing comment several weeks back that stuck with him: "I never knew how easy it was for us to increase our strength!"

Even after his own substantial power increase—magical fruit or not—he hadn't given much thought to how powerful his body had grown. He initially wrote it off as a benefit of the Entide Fruit; but after everything that had happened on Jynn-jin 13, he finally knew that there was still much to learn about his own race.

A blot on the horizon caught his attention and he frowned. After a moment the blot resolved into a discernible silhouette. Ah, that must be Orange Star City. His gaze was drawn skyward by several flashes of light and he came to a screeching halt, his aura vanishing with a crack.

"Oh shit," he murmured as he watched four space pods descend rapidly towards the city. They vanished from sight and he heard, as well as felt, the distant rumble of their landing; it was occasionally punctuated by the faint sounds of destruction and shattering glass.

"Gods-be-damned, I know those pods…" Turles muttered in a harsh whisper. His eyes narrowed and he grasped his right wrist to try and steady his shaking hands.

It didn't help.

Dammit, dammit, dammit! He watched the horizon; it wasn't long before he saw flashes of light, followed by the sounds of explosions.

"God-fuckin'-dammit! Just my luck!" His purple-white aura exploded to life. He hesitated for a moment, casting a quick glance in the direction of Mount Paozu. "Just please don't follow after me, Etapa," he murmured.

Turles returned his gaze to the besieged city, grimaced, and then blasted off at full speed.

DBZ

(I know I've said it before, but this time I really REALLY mean it: Witness is drawing to a close, and this chapter marks the beginning of the end…Even so, you've probably still got like ten or fifteen chapters to look forward to. Lol I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter and that y'all continue to read and review!)