A/N: I'm back! Had to move, so this took a bit longer. Thank you to Lisa8507 (Indeed there will be haha! Glad you are still enjoying it!), Sol (Thank you!), and Midnight Angels Say GoodNight (the answer is: a lot! But yeah, hopefully Vegeta-sei will find this to be a lucrative business!). Enjoy!

Chapter 28:

"Yes, just tell me right when you start feeling the draw… just signal me."

General Cauli, who had hardly spoken more than three words at a time since they had arrived at the lab, took some slow steps forward, and then grunted and came to a halt.

Bulma was used to the non-verbal communication and noted the space on the ground. "There? Alright. Bok, give it a try, okay?"

They switched places swiftly and Bok approached in the same way, yet stopped a further distance away.

"Seriously?" Bulma asked. Her pencil slipped from her ear and she fumblingly caught it before scribbling more. "Affects lower power levels from a further distance… well, that's a shocker. Are you sure that—"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Bok said in the undertone he almost always used. "I know what it feels like by now, my Queen…"

"Okay, okay… just …strange. We're definitely going to have to take another look at that."

"Terrible feeling," Bok said vaguely. Bulma looked up at that and frowned. It was rare that a Saiyan would offer such information, though she could have guessed that it probably wouldn't feel great.

"Describe it."

"It's …empty." Bok shrugged. "Like you're trying and something's taken away and you…"

"Panic?"

"Probably."

"I'm concerned," Bulma said, but it sounded more like a change of subject. Bok didn't pick up on that and waved a hand.

"It's nothing."

"No, I mean, yeah …I don't want you to have a freak-out or anything—but I'm concerned that this might mean that this-this substance is honed to Saiyan physiology or something, and not power level. Like …Bok, are you pretty much average for a Saiyan power level?"

"Slightly above," Bok responded, crossing his arms.

"I wish we had a non-Saiyan to test this on." She tapped a pencil to her chin. "If it doesn't affect the General as distantly, then maybe there's a threshold that it doesn't respond to, or a species with a different composition wouldn't be affected as much. Or it needs nearness to affect someone with a higher power level—like with Frieza, is it possible that it would need to be embedded in his body to work? Or maybe I just have to do that to be safe? I wish Loid were here!"

"You sent him back because he was annoying you," Bok said unnecessarily. "To change…"

"I probably shouldn't have done that," she said airily. "He was right, and I need someone to bounce this off of and well," she swept her hand towards them both, "you two are more the jock-type."

"Jock?"

"Forget it. So maybe a blaster …but then," she tapped the small deposit beside her. "The composition is so soft that it probably wouldn't penetrate through his armor and maybe even his skin, or whatever he's got…" She shuddered.

"Stronger than PTO armor?"

That question was from General Cauli, and his tone had finally turned with interest. For the most part, he had been studying her to the point that she only felt thoroughly uncomfortable in his presence, judged; the way she expected to feel around the Elites who scorned her. She was sure they all wondered the same thing: what was their King doing with this alien woman?

And then Vegeta had gone and killed his father for her and declared her Queen of All Saiyans. She was actually pretty surprised that no one had tried to snap her neck again.

Maybe they had, and Vegeta had not let-on.

She had a vision of him sending one of the palace guards ripping through a solid wall when the Saiyan had tried to touch her, right before she collapsed. This general—Cauli—had probably seen it himself. She didn't remember; their faces had all been indistinct and she had been too focused on getting herself to Trunks.

That part of her ached terribly… her beautiful boy. She needed to figure out a way to find out where he was in this galaxy, on top of everything else. Somehow. Maybe she'd contact her father and he would have some insight into the whole thing… There was so much she still hadn't learned about what happened while she was …well, dead.

She had really been dead. And she didn't even recall much…

"Your Majesty?"

"Yes!" she said too quickly, drawn out of her thoughts. "Right, stronger than PTO armor, or at least something that can dig through it at a high velocity. Do we have any of that?"

"There is." General Cauli was now looking at her in a way that looked all wrong on his rigid face. She didn't know whether it was just hope, or a soft kind of amazement, but it was not something he wore well. "I had worked on something ages ago. Put it away for …for something like this."

This. Now Bulma gathered the meaning behind his expression. It was hope—a flash of something that this Saiyan general hadn't dared dream. If Saiyans dreamt at all…

A smile bloomed across Bulma's face at the realization and General Cauli raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Now …I think you know I mean business."

When he didn't answer, and appeared startled by the remark, she pushed harder.

"Don't you?"

His eyes narrowed and he stiffly inclined his head. "Yes. You clearly do."

She clapped her hands. "Then let's get this prototype that you have and see what we can do with it!"

Cauli blinked a few times, before he nodded sharply and hurried off, presumably to get what she was asking for. Bok watched him go.

"You think he likes me?" she asked cheekily. It was easier to joke about the feelings of animosity that most Saiyan Elite had towards her than to get upset about it. It was probably a defense mechanism, who really cared anyway? But Bok took her question with his typical seriousness.

"I actually …think that he does. And he doesn't want to."

Bulma rolled her eyes and bent back over her notes. "You Saiyans seem allergic to willingly liking anything, I swear. But you know, Bok, I think you're a cut above the rest of them, including Vegeta!"

Bok rubbed at his face and sighed. "Please don't say things like that, Your Majesty. Especially in front of the King."

"Look, I know that you're all terrified of the guy…" She scribbled something stupid out and tapped the sheet with her writing implement. "But someone around here needs to teach him some humility."

"I think it would be better if that's your job only. Don't bring me into it."

"Sure. Hey, can you go and bring Loid back? Tell him I changed clothes, he was right, and I need him."

"Sorry." Bok wasn't. "Can't leave your side, on orders from the King."

"And nothing I say will change your mind?" she asked with faux-sweetness.

Bok shook his head and Bulma sighed. "So, I'll have to send out my only tech, who can't get to the lake as fast as you and it will prolong the whole process!" She stood, tossing her pen aside. "Well, Vegeta better know that his stupid rules are going to stall the fight against Frieza, but hey! No big deal, right?! He'll just blow us to pieces if he gets here before we can come up with a plan!"

He stalwartly crossed his arms as she passed, holding back a cringe. She was a strange little creature, the Queen. Very small and weak on the outside, but something about the fierceness of her was enough to strike a small chord of fear in a person who would have no logical reason to fear her. And it was a separate thing from the protection of the King, a shadow that would always loom menacingly over her, whether Bok understood his reasons or not.

Better to stay out of the way and follow orders.

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

Paragus watched as Vegeta activated the gravity stimulator, refraining from questioning it.

"It's been three days since it was up. It's not good to let it sit for so long," Vegeta deigned to explain. "Now, tell me what your blasted point will be, Paragus."

"I'm sorry to say that I don't believe it will be half as interesting as what our Queen is currently delivering," Paragus remarked. "Which is ironic, as what I say might pertain to her."

"Your usual, insubstantial notions. Tell me what you mean now."

Vegeta had been staring at the controls while Paragus spoke, and that did not change. However, Paragus got the deep sense that his King had shifted, poised to strike out at any moment at the mention of the human woman. It reminded him of the day they had seen the woman again for the first time, arguing with their King and he had thrown the palace guard through several walls. The memory of it had Paragus feeling more confident before he began.

"Your Majesty, you know of the Legendary Warrior. Might I ask how?"

Vegeta snorted, shaking his head. "How did every young, Saiyan child learn it, General? It's a common story passed down over time."

"Ah. And allow me to ask one more thing. Did you ever pursue the literature referencing the Legendary Warrior in the Saiyan Historical Library?"

"No," Vegeta scoffed, irritated that he was even being asked. "When would I have found the time when I was being sent out to do Frieza's bidding? And anyway, I have never heard of any records referencing the Legendary Warrior! Hence, the myth."

"My King," Paragus bowed his head slightly, "I understand the notion. However, it is because there actually is an attribution from our mythical Legendary Warrior that I have come to speak with you today… and the fact that your own father, the former King, knew about this document, and my theories on it, that gave him some cause to hate your human woman."

He wasn't sure how any of this would pertain to the most serious issues he faced right now: Frieza, achieving Legendary status, Bulma's safety, Trunks' return… Still, he found himself extremely interested now.

"How?" Vegeta demanded. "How could anything you tell me about a regarded myth lead to my father hating a little human from a planet we knew nothing about?"

Paragus shook his head. "No, Sire …her effect. Here, I copied these from the library to show you." He produced a folded paper and handed it to the King. "This is a writing attributed to the Legendary Warrior."

Vegeta squinted at it, already skirting the edges of skepticism, but Paragus' words were forgotten as he focused on the words before him. "A poem?" He forced himself to read it, line by line, and something pinged in his mind; a long-ago memory. "This is …this is a children's rhyme!"

"Ah, so you knew it once as a child too." Paragus remarked. "I had not been sure."

Vegeta read it through silently, sure that Paragus wouldn't have required him to recite it aloud.

Warriors burn their bridges

And the suns of other worlds

Burn the traces of your rages

And the enemies of her!

Light the way with your blast

And fire through your useless fears

Vegeta-sei will have another day

If you never give her rest.

"What of it?" Vegeta snapped after suffering through two stanzas. "I've seen all of this before."

Paragus leaned toward the paper. "The feminine reference in the poem…"

"Would mean Vegeta-sei," Vegeta broke in, rolling his eyes at the general. Could this really have been what he meant? "What, you think it's a woman?!"

"Well …yes," Paragus said, his voice gathering speed and crackling with a show of his age. "I know that it is the practice of foreign planets to refer to their land in the feminine, but that has never been the case for Vegeta-sei, in any other writing I've seen."

Vegeta had to concede that was true, but he did it only through his silence. Paragus watched him with a benign twinkle, the one that made little sense on a Saiyan face, but had always occupied his. He waved his hand toward the paper again.

"And then there's the rest, the part never included for children."

Vegeta looked back down at it, suddenly realizing that it was lengthier than it should have been.

"Not even commonly known to adult Saiyans, is that there are five verses rather than three..."

"This is…" Vegeta trailed off.

Burn for her and never give her rest

Burn for her and offer all you have

Transform for her and receive her kiss

Set yourself aflame in her presence

And enter her bliss

"This cannot be what you say it is…" Vegeta decided, blinking at the strange words, feeling more unsure by the moment, and his cheeks began to heat. 'Kiss'? How can a planet kiss anything?! Ridiculously for a man that was experienced as he, he felt mortified by the implications of it and flushed completely. But Paragus ignored it, so intent he was on furthering his theory with Vegeta.

"Your father was furious by my hypothesis, but I believe it was because he saw some merit in my thoughts. I brought this portion from the library for him to read as well. And when you brought the Queen and your son to Vegeta-sei, I believe that these verses were on his mind." He prodded the paper. "Attributed to the Legendary Warrior."

"And you mean to say that the Warrior had a lover?" Vegeta scoffed, still a bit warm in the face. "And that I have some likeness to the Warrior in that way? You dare?!"

"More than that, I'm saying that the Warrior even implied that he was empowered by his lover." Paragus spoke even more quickly now, like he had been waiting to say this all before and had impatiently waited for the opportunity to share it for years, or for the right King. "And there are, well …ancient precedents, that might support such an idea."

"Yes, yes, don't get ahead of yourself," Vegeta waved away brusquely, his heart beating faster at the way this conversation was going. He recalled all-too-well the conversation he had had with Nappa not long after he had met the Woman, and he would not entertain the raising of such a subject …ever again. He didn't need to understand it. He had decided that long ago. "I've heard your nonsense theory." And it was just that. He extended the writing back to the General. "But what does this have to do with Frieza?"

Paragus appeared slightly disappointed, and Vegeta found himself growing angry. Why was he expected to entertain this foolishness and please the eccentric general when the fate of the planet was at stake?! But the General had the sense to rally before Vegeta could express any of that, paper back in-hand.

"History tends to move in cycles, Your Majesty," he murmured. "Forgotten, and we might miss the patterns. However, it won't stop the history from circling back, again and again. And the Legendary power is yours, is it not?"

But that was where Paragus was so wrong… Vegeta turned away sharply, suddenly ashamed and trying not to show it, because that power lay with his half-blood son.

"You will see it soon enough," Vegeta answered with gruff certainty, even while his stomach sank. "When Frieza inevitably makes his appearance and attempts to destroy us…"

"And if you don't mind me saying, Sire… our planet has not been in more capable hands in historical memory." Vegeta looked back at him and Paragus nodded at the paper. "And perhaps beyond that."

After Paragus left him, Vegeta plunged into training with a madness he hadn't felt since Before. Before she died… and he didn't need to understand it. He hit the robots she crafted for him, and with a force that caused him more pain than it caused them. And still, he felt the touch of her hands on his face, reminding him of the things he never cared to know. And words he had flung back at her.

"Trunks told me how he felt when he attacked Geta."

"Telling me that he can compound his strength because he has FEELINGS is not a reason at all!"

And now… he deflected distractedly, could the Legendary Warrior have…? He swallowed, and his throat was a wasteland. Black sand kicking up as he fell from a blow was no different than the sand springing from her steps as she left him to meditate in his stony silence. And the clone was sniveling behind a corner, just waiting for her to leave so he could enact his revenge. To hurt Vegeta, nothing more… and he had known it would hurt.

He felt deep rage still, abiding at the memory. And yet, he mused with bitterness, there was no unnatural, powerful glow that came with it.

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

Training with Trunks was certainly an experience. Gohan had been itching for the opportunity to spar with the younger boy for a while, feeding a hunger he hadn't known in a very long time. His father, Goku, was known for his excitement at a challenge, but Gohan was not.

Not in a fight.

His younger friend was strong and practiced and brooding. If Gohan had felt a sense of competition, he would have been jealous at how easily Trunks fought and reacted to his offensive moves. But the dark cloud that trailed him was nothing to be jealous about.

After only a week, the two had fallen into a companionable routine, mostly letting Nappa deal with the direction of the ship. The woke up, they ate, they trained, and they had started to talk. Trunks had become obsessed with learning his sword, and that gave Gohan an upper-hand in their fights, with Trunks' lack of practice in the weapon. He persisted, despite Nappa's continuous remarks, and ran through forms even when Gohan wasn't sparring with him.

Gohan had expected that Trunks was used to training a lot.

And slowly, Trunks had begun to open up. He had asked about Earth and his grandparents, but Gohan almost felt as if he didn't have much to tell the other boy. What he wanted was to understand more about the place they were headed. For the sake of survival.

Which meant getting around the walls that Trunks had seemed to build up in himself. Gohan went about persistently and patiently bringing them down, as Trunks tackled the Namekian sword. It was two weeks into their journey, when they were resting from a spar, that Gohan finally scrounged up the courage to ask something he had been wondering for a while.

"Are you happy to go back? I mean, to Vegeta-sei? You'll see your mom again, and she'll be alive because of you…"

The other boy's head bowed, but before lavender hair shaded his eyes, Gohan could see that he wasn't defensive. He shrugged, breathing lightly even after thirty minutes of going head-to-head.

"Of course, I'm happy about that, you know? But …I guess I realized that things aren't going to get easier." He sighed. "It's like …I solved one problem, and then another comes in its place. Mom is alive, right? I hope …but now, she won't leave him, I bet. And I probably can't make her go back to Earth where it's safe. And Frieza is still out there, abusing the whole galaxy. So now I have to figure out how to deal with that. And worst of all," Trunks' voice dropped and he hesitated, as if confessing his deepest secret. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"But." Gohan immediately interrupted, because he had been dying to understand something about Trunks' power, and it was the first thing to come to his mind after that statement. "You—you have that Legendary power-up! You could probably take Frieza all by yourself! And anyway, well …how did you get that, anyway? Is it …can Vegeta—"

"He can't." Again, just like every other time someone had mentioned his father, Trunks' face hardened. "He didn't when I did, at least…"

"Trunks," Gohan tried carefully, feeling somehow that he was treading on unsafe waters now without knowing why, "how did you get this—this power-up?"

After Trunks' display on the Lookout, Goku could have hardly torn his eyes from the kid, clearly hungry to know how to do it himself. And Gohan would have been completely lying if he had said that it didn't matter to him, either. Was this a Saiyan thing? Nappa's words implied that it was, but Gohan didn't know for sure.

"I told you that it happened when my mom died," Trunks said with a sort of forbidding quality that reminded Gohan of Vegeta. But Gohan pressed anyway, despite the fear of old memories, intent on unearthing whatever was wrong like any friend would.

"Oh." Gohan decided to avoid the mention of Bulma's death, thinking that it would only cause Trunks pain. "So ...how do you do it?"

Trunks shrugged. "It's a mystery to me. I just do."

"Sure, but what—"

"I don't want to talk about it." Trunks said, and Gohan was startled at the razor-sharp point of the response, not realizing that he had been going to a place where Trunks hadn't wanted to. The power-up must have been very wrapped up in Bulma's death, more than Gohan could have imagined.

It would have been an out, to drop it now. He had tried. But Gohan swallowed, staring at the floor where they sat, and spoke again.

"Maybe you need to talk about it…"

Gohan didn't even hear his breath, just the whirring of the lights in the training room. Trunks said nothing, and Gohan gave it a minute before he dared to look over. Trunks was still staring at the ground between them, his brow almost always furrowed, but more deeply now. Yet, it wasn't a forbidding expression anymore. Maybe he was trying to work it out for himself, but he sighed and met Gohan's eyes.

"Sure, maybe I do…" he admitted. "But …Vegeta-sei isn't like Earth…"

The comment was apropos of nothing, and Gohan had to think a minute before he understood what Trunks was saying. He lifted his hands in surrender, eyes wide. "Hey, look, I …I know. And I won't judge it. I know I probably made you think that I—"

"—she died because I was training with my father that night, late," Trunks interrupted sharply when Gohan started to apologize. "By the time we got there, she was already …well, gone. And then I …I kind of lost it."

"And you powered-up?" Gohan asked, dropping the last subject quickly as Trunks opened up. The lavender-haired boy nodded, swallowing.

"I don't know what I did the first time, but I know that it was probably important—you know, the first time it happens." He blinked quickly a few times, probably at the memory. "Mom was …I felt like I died too, or something. And then…"

"I don't even really remember all the …the stuff that happened. Just that I wanted to," he grimaced, "…wanted to kill."

"Kill who?" Gohan asked in undertone after a moment, as if lowering his voice would cause Trunks to feel more at-ease. It had occurred to him that he didn't even know who had been responsible for Bulma's death. The whole time, it had felt like the planet itself had been guilty of it, not any one person. He couldn't even imagine someone wanting to cross Vegeta in that way. Gohan didn't doubt that if Bulma had been dragged all the way to Vegeta's home planet, that Vegeta intended on keeping her safe, no matter how bad the guy was…

So who would be so crazy?

Trunks must have been thinking the same thing. "'S right …you didn't even know. My br—Geta. He's the one that did it."

"Geta, like …Ve-geta?"

Trunks' smile was brittle and false, and his eyes were distant. "Yeah, I gave him that nickname."

That put a lump in Gohan's throat and he didn't think about why.

"Who was he?"

"He was …I don't know, I guess he was a clone of our dad?" Trunks shook his head. "That is the way you are supposed to have a kid on Vegeta-sei. And that's partly why the King hated my mom …and me, so much. He was supposed to be King, after my father."

Gohan was reeling with all this information about a people that were also partly his. The culture of the planet his father came from, and Trunks had lived it for over half of his life. He started slow. "So …Geta was …kinda your brother?"

"Basically. Biologically. But he wasn't really. And I'd rather choose my brothers now," Trunks looked intently at Gohan with a reddened glint that hadn't been there before, but the effect was unsettling. "I didn't choose him and he didn't choose me. I thought that maybe we could be friends in the beginning. He didn't want it."

"So, then what happened?" Gohan gulped as quietly as possible. "Did you kill him?"

Trunks shook his head. "My father stopped me. Said he would take care of it. I don't know what that meant, and I don't know what happened to him."

The explanation was void of any emotion. There were so many questions that Gohan had that it didn't feel right to ask, especially with the look on Trunks' face right now. Why would Trunks' brother kill his mother? How could he do something so awful? Is Geta still alive? Why did Vegeta stop Trunks?

"And then Vegeta …was Vegeta …angry?" Gohan asked, figuring it was the safest question.

Trunks scoffed openly as he jumped to his feet, opened his mouth …and then closed it again. Gohan came to stand as well, watching the younger boy. The look on his face was faraway and defiant, as if there was pain in some thought of the answer. But answer, he did, his eyes cold. "Yeah, he was angry. Really angry." Trunks sighed. "Honestly, it—"

"What?" Gohan frowned at the dead-on-arrival sentence. Why did Trunks always feel the need to curb what he wanted to say with him? He almost felt frustrated, but then the boy swallowed, and finished his sentence freely.

"It might have been better for Geta if I had killed him then, when I was so angry that I couldn't think straight." Trunks announced with a halting voice that dropped to a confession. "Because Dad …I don't even know if I could come up with some of the things that he would."

That sent chills up Gohan's spine, from his imagination to Trunks' delivery. And he was left gaping after Vegeta's son as he left.

What had they gotten themselves into? And how would any of them adjust to the world that Trunks had lived in for years?

How would they help to save the galaxy.

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

Trunks had no idea what Gohan was thinking, but he did have a twinge of regret as he left Gohan in the Training Chamber, even though he knew that that conversation had been bound to happen.

He hated that he was so nervous to share any part of his life with Gohan, who was probably the dearest friend he had now…

And more than driving Gohan away with scary realities, was the fact that he was forced to think about it too. Geta… his father …his mother's attachment to his father…

He couldn't, he wouldn't think about Geta! He had decided to let Vegeta handle that, and hope that he wouldn't have to see his face and remember how he had wanted to kill someone, and enjoy it. If Geta was out of sight and away from his mother, he'd be out of Trunks' mind too.

But his mother's attachment to his father …in some ways, that was probably worse than Frieza.

Trunks wasn't dumb. How could he be, with a mother like his? Whatever words he had spat at his father before he left, he knew that his parents actually had liked each other in the middle of all their complicated lives. He knew it, even though they probably didn't even admit it to themselves…

Trunks knew it, but that didn't mean he would have told anyone about it, or wanted to know it. But there was one memory that always stuck out.

His mom had, once again, stayed in the lab far past a time when anybody else would have been awake. And Vegeta had, once again, gone to pull her out. And Trunks, all of seven years old, had opened his door slightly, peaking as much as he had dared when he heard them come in. He had been practicing lowering his ki, so that his father wouldn't notice him. But Trunks couldn't manage it unless Vegeta was very distracted.

But he didn't notice that night, as he entered the room with Trunks' mother over his shoulder, her arms slack over his back in boredom. "I told you that I could have walked," she muttered. "I wasn't going to fight you."

"You always fight me, Woman," Vegeta responded in that voice he reserved for her. "And I wanted to be back here before dawn."

"Shut up, Vegeta. And put me down already, I'm exhausted!"

"Then have the sense to return here at a suitable hour!" he shot back. But he did lower her to her feet. He watched in fascination, shrinking further back as his mother rolled her eyes and stepped toward his father. It had suddenly occurred to him that he might be worried about her seeing him. Her mother's instinct often had caused her to notice things she shouldn't have about him.

But her eyes were firmly on Vegeta, and her gaze was suddenly curious. "Right. It's important to get a good night's sleep?"

"For a weak little human," Vegeta smirked. He stopped when Trunks' mother leaned in suddenly.

"But what is it to you, Vegeta?" she asked. "If I sleep one hour, or ten? And you know that sleep is all I'll be doing. So …what's the difference?"

Trunks wasn't sure what his mother meant about half of what she said. But something about the way that his father looked at her then, his eyes black and hidden in shadows that human vision couldn't catch. Trunks could see that look, one that had him turning away in confusion, feeling caught. He didn't recognize it, or understand it. But it was different. And his father didn't answer. He didn't tell her she was wrong or right, but the silence itself felt like his mother had won something. And that she had wanted the victory, whatever it was worth to her.

Trunks hadn't understood it then, and he still didn't fully understand…

But he knew enough to know that bringing his mother back to life hadn't exactly liberated her …and he wasn't sure if he was okay with that.

A/N: The royal boys being out-of-sorts before their inevitable reunion. Bulma is the only one not angsting out! And then there's Paragus' theory... did anyone see that coming? Sorry this took so long, I've been moving and was getting this chapter done slowly, but surely! More to come ;)