Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Sole Survivors ❯ Blood Ally and Epilogue ( Chapter 15 )

Sole Survivors

By Queen Saiyajin

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

Blood Ally

 

 

 

“This…this can not be,” Vegeta rasped, the words barely audible. The room seemed to swim around him as if in a dream, for truly, this could not be real. The woman before him bore striking resemblance to the photographs he had seen, and her eyes seemed to brim with an emotion that no one could possibly feign. Yet…it could not be. “My mother is dead,” he said resolutely, finding his voice. Yet he cursed the tremor that betrayed his doubt.

 

“He told you I was,” she said, stepping towards him. “The day I bore you.” She motioned up the stairs. “In the bedroom, facing the lake. I will never forget that moment. I held you in my arms, and he knew that he would never make you into the cold emotionless monster that he was if I had anything to say about it. So he sent me off-world, and told all of Vegeta-sei that I was dead so that he could raise you as he wished.”

 

“Bardock, you knew my mother,” he whispered harshly, trying desperately to control his own emotions as his eyes never left the woman's face. “Is she--?”

 

“Yes, Ouji-sama,” Bardock told him with certainty. “Of this I have no doubt.”

 

“Leave us, Bardock,” he managed, his face growing hot with the tears he refused to shed in front of the other man.

 

He heard the door close behind Bardock, and knew they were alone, save for the woman who already knew his soul. Only then did he allow himself to entertain the possibility that this was true. “Mother?” he asked softly.

 

“Yes, Vegeta,” she said coming to stand closer. She reached up tentatively to caress his cheek, and he trembled at her touch. “I am your mother. And even if you do not remember me, my son, I can promise you that my heart was bound to yours from the time I held you in my womb. I have felt you pain, your rage…” She glanced at Bulma, who was standing silently apart from them. “And your joy,” she finished, her knowing smile bittersweet. Her eyes seemed to show every emotion that she had sensed in him, and he knew instinctively that she had shared the pain of his lifetime. Why not? Had he not bonded with his own son, and with his woman, in a way he had never dreamed possible? “Even though he took you from me the night you were born, you have always been a part of me, my son,” she said passionately, her onyx eyes glistening. “If only…I had had the strength to fight him then…I could have spared you so much anguish…”

 

“Mother…” he whimpered as she pulled him to her bosom.

 

She held him tightly, cradling his head in her arms, and he clung to her like the infant he had been when he had last felt her touch. The connection that flowed through them was undeniable, as the stranger he had known all his life but forgotten, reopened the wounds of a lifetime, only to heal them once and for all in the way that only a mother's comfort could. His own rush of emotion was so overwhelming that he feared that once begun, the flow of tears might not stop. But in her embrace he found strength, in the knowledge that he had come from more than that treacherous bastard, that he was more than his father's son, he was her son….

 

When he'd regained his composure he broke away to look into her eyes, his own filled with the desire for revenge that had never been so great. “He will pay for this, Mother. Just as he will pay for what he did to me, to my mate and my son…”

 

“In time, Vegeta,” she told him, wiping her own eyes. “But now, there are more important matters. “We must recover your son and those two little girls.”

 

“Do you know where they are?” Bulma broke in, unable to hold her silence any longer. In embarrassment he realized that he had not even introduced her.

 

He reached for his woman's hand, pulling her out of her awkwardness. “I'm sorry…Mother, I want you to meet my wife, Bulma Briefs of Earth. Bulma, I think we know now where those gifts came from.”

 

Bulma bowed her head to the exiled Queen, smiling brightly. She knew what this meant for him, and she could feel his joy. “It is such an honor to meet you, your Majesty,” she said warmly.

 

“The honor is mine, Bulma,” the Queen replied with equal kindness. “I know what you have done for my son. You saved him from what his father would have had him become. And for that I am eternally grateful.”

 

“Then help us save our son, Mother,” Vegeta broke in, knowing there would be time for pleasantries later. “Do you know where they have him?”

 

“If I knew exactly where, I would have taken him back myself. But the answer is within you, Vegeta. You've bonded with him. You can sense him.”

 

“No I can't!” he cried in frustration, feeling his hopes being crushed. “They've got him sedated! There's no way to sense his energy—!”

 

“Then sense his mind, Vegeta,” his mother told him, taking his hand in hers. “His heart. His thoughts. You've only been trained to feel the physical energy. Even in sleep his mind is aware, and within your grasp. You need only look beyond his ki, and reach out to him.”

 

“I don't know how,” he admitted in defeat.

 

Yes, you do, she told him. He looked into her eyes in surprise. Call to him. See him across the distance as I watched you…Feel his thoughts…his fears…

 

He nodded, closing his eyes, seeing his son in his mind's eye, reaching out to him with every fiber of his being. Trunks…it's Papa…can you hear me? Please, hear me…

 

Then he saw it. Felt it. The fear…desperation…the girls were so afraid, and it made him even more terrified…the pain…the blackness…and the dreams…Mama…Papa…watching Big Trunks and Papa spar, the bright flashes of light that lit up the Korwal-sei-jin sky…then darkness and the strange warriors…where was Mama? Where was Papa… Papaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!

 

His eyes shot open as time and space shifted back to the Summer Palace, his woman and his mother studying his face intently, as if they knew what he had seen… The baby's dreams were gone, and yet his thoughts, his spirit, the sense of him, still wafted through Vegeta's consciousness. He was close, so close. And he was afraid. No, terrified….

 

“Come,” he said simply, and headed for the door.

 

 

 

 

I'm coming, Trunks…

 

“Papa!” His eyes shot open as the frightening images faded into nothingness, revealing something even worse. It was dark, and cold, and Arnaki was shivering as she held him against her. But where was Mama? Where was Papa? He'd said he was coming! He'd promised!

 

“Papa!” he called more loudly. No answer came, and he began to cry when Arnaki's hand came gently over his mouth.

 

“SShhhhhhh,” she whispered, rocking him lightly.

 

Any other time, sheer stubbornness would have made him cry louder. But the girl was pleading him with her eyes, all swollen and filled with tears. He didn't want her to cry. He didn't want the bad men to hurt her.

 

A girl Cordera's age came towards them, and he let Arnaki push his face against her chest. Somehow he knew that these bad people wanted him to be asleep. He clung to his friend with his eyes closed, listening. Ready. If Papa didn't come in time, he would have to make sure the bad men didn't hurt them…

 

“Where have you taken my sister?” Arnaki sobbed.

 

The girl seemed to hesitate, as if not feeling she needed to answer, then replied, “To do what Prince Vegeta should have done. My father is going to show her just what her place is here on Vegeta-sei.”

 

Arnaki let out a little cry and her heart began to pound wildly. Whatever it was they were doing to Cordera, it must be really bad…

 

“Please,” Arnaki sobbed. “Don't let them. You're a girl, too. How can you stand by and let this happen?”

 

“I am a Saiyan warrior,” the long-haired girl replied. “And I should be the Saiyan Queen. If it hadn't been for that alien whore Bulma Briefs, none of this would be happening!”

 

Trunks' anger began to rise as he heard the mean girl talk about Mama this way. Nobody, but nobody, could say bad things about Mama.

 

“The Prince and Princess are good people! They are kind and just. What do you people want, a king who destroys planets, murders innocent people and rapes young girls?!”

 

“That, little girl, is what Saiyans do,” the girl answered her.

 

“Maybe I'd better teach her,” one of the mean men said, laughing at Arnaki as she began to tremble.

 

“Be my guest, Habish,” the girl said, seeming to enjoy watching Arnaki get even more scared.

 

By now Arnaki was beginning to cry, and he clutched at her more tightly, trying to reassure her. I won't let him hurt you, Arnaki. Don't worry! He began to wriggle against the diaper that was so full it was beginning to sag. Why hadn't they changed him? Had he really peed that much while he was asleep? It didn't matter. There was more where that came from.

 

“Just take this brat—hey, he's awake!” the big man grabbed him by the arm just as his diaper fell with a loud plop on the floor.

 

“Nooo!” Arnaki cried, trying to hold onto him.

 

With one hand the man snatched Trunks away, while with the other he punched Arnaki in the face so hard that she fell to the floor unconscious. That was it! He wouldn't let them hurt his friends! If Papa wasn't here, then he was the Prince of all Saiyans, and he would defend them!! Trunks turned towards the mean man, suspended in air even as the big lummox let go in surprise, and let him have it right in the face!

 

“Aargh! Get that abomination away from me!” he yelled. Trunks just giggled as he aimed for the man's big ugly mouth and hit his target.

 

Suddenly the ceiling caved in, but Trunks was the only one who wasn't afraid. Because he knew before the others that Papa had come to rescue them.

 

Papa looked so mad that he could kill them, but as he saw Trunks suspended in the air over the surprised man with peepee all over him, Papa's face turned to surprise. Then he laughed.

 

“Good boy, Trunks!” he told the baby as he floated towards him. Papa took him into his arms and hugged him tightly. Thank the gods that you are all right, my son, he heard in his mind.

 

Suddenly Bardock came through the big hole, carrying Mama! She ran to them, and took him into her arms. Why was she crying? “My baby,” she whispered. Trunks curled his tail around her arm and held on tightly. He'd known they would come. He'd known. If there was anyone he could count on, it was Mama and Papa.

 

 

 

 

Vegeta surveyed the scene around him, his relief at finding his son now taking a back seat to his rage at those who had taken him. The stunned victim of Trunks' special attack was slowly getting to his feet, making a spurious attempt at a respectful bow.

 

“Ouji-sama…I did not mean to…I was following Melecot's orders…”

 

“Then you will continue to follow his orders in Hell,” Vegeta replied mercilessly. Motioning to Bulma, who covered the baby's face, he dispatched the vile creature to the same place that awaited all those who had put his son's life in jeopardy. He turned to the girl, the despicable Raditz-girl, who had feigned respect to his face before taking part in this insidious plot.

 

“Killing us will do nothing, Prince Vegeta,” she told him shamelessly. “There are others who support us, and will never submit to your rule.”

 

“Maybe you're right,” Vegeta told her, raising his hand towards her. “But it will make me feel a hell of a lot better.”

 

“Vegeta, wait!” He turned to Bulma, who had handed the baby to Bardock. “This one is mine.”

 

“You wish to fight me, Princess?” Cereza laughed, mocking Bulma and her title.

 

Bulma aimed the ki disruptor. “No. I wish to make you pay!” She fired, and Cereza fell to the floor in shock and pain. “That's for trying to take away my husband,” she said, changing the setting on the gun. “This is for kidnapping my son!”

 

Vegeta watched stunned as the weapon fired a single blast through the Saiyan woman's heart, stopping it. He turned to his woman, who was still shaking with the rage and impact of what she had done, an act so contrary to her own nature that he knew she would regret it later. “You didn't tell me it could do that,” he said simply, though thoroughly impressed.

 

She slipped the weapon back into her pocket, taking her baby from an equally shocked Bardock. She clutched him in her arms, the only thing that would calm her now. She was already feeling guilt for her act. Foolish woman. He would have to teach her the difference between killing for no reason and to protect those you loved. He had done both. He should know.

 

For now he simply brushed a hand through her hair as he took a moment to look at her and his son. He would kill for them. He would die for them if need be.

 

Trunks appeared then just as the young Creas-sei-jin girl began to stir. Vegeta bent down to look at her. Her face was bruised, and as she groaned at her own movement he assessed that she had probably fractured some bones in her fall. Just the thought that these bastards had brutalized her so, made him sick to his stomach. “You're going to be all right, girl,” he told her, then asked, “Where is your sister?”

 

Her eyes focused on him and her face filled with fright as reality came back to her. “Prince Vegeta! You've got to help her! Melecot's got her! He's going to—”

 

She didn't need to finish. Trunks had already run down the hallway, alerted by a spike in the girl's ki that even Vegeta had felt. Vegeta prayed for the girl's sake, as well as Trunks', that it wasn't already too late. He followed Trunks into a room where the unthinkable was already taking place.

 

Thrown over the edge of a table, the girl was struggling as two warriors held her arms pinned behind her head. Her clothes had been ripped from her, and Melecot himself was lost in the perverse pleasure of the young virgin's screams as he pounded into her. Two others were watching, laughing cruelly, urging Melecot to hurry, their swollen members already exposed as they waited their turns at her. The girl saw the young Prince then, and cried out to him, “Truuuuuunks!!!”

 

In an instant her scream was Bulma's, as the memory of a child came back to him. The Tsuri-jin King nearly ripping her to shreds as he raped her repeatedly…Bulma crying out in a pool of her own blood as Kold pounded into her, all the while reminding her that this was what she must do if she wanted to keep her little monkey alive…the horror in her face as she saw her son watching, terrified…

 

Vegeta cried out in an anguish that was not his or Trunks' alone, but one that inextricably connected them. The bile rose in Vegeta's throat as he watched his son rip Melecot from the girl's body, and literally tear him apart piece by piece in a blind fury that shook the entire building to its foundations. He wanted to do the same. Gods, how it took every ounce of restraint not to join in the frenzy of retribution. But this was Trunks' score to settle right now. Vegeta let him, watching a rage he had thought no one but himself capable of. The pieces of Melecot flew across the room, his head falling upright with eyes still open in terror as if he had watched the rest of his body being torn apart. The other fools rushed at Trunks, their dicks still hanging from their pants, thinking that together they could vanquish the enraged Super Saiyan.

 

“You could have just waited your turn!” one of them mocked. “What's the matter, kid, just upset you didn't get to break her in yourself?!”

 

Trunks didn't honor him with a quick death. A ki blast to the sick bastard's genitals and he fell screaming, clutching for what was no longer there. Then Trunks gave him the same treatment as Melecot, ripping his limbs from the sockets and tossing them aside until the Saiyan lost consciousness. He was out before the merciful blast that ended his sorry existence.

 

It was then that Trunks turned to the other, making him die as painful a death as his companion. Vegeta watched in numb horror as his son, so gentle in so many ways, so human like his mother, carried out a methodical, torturous ritual that seemed as mindless as it was savage. It wasn't that he hadn't done the same in his lifetime. He'd probably, to his disgrace, done much worse. But seeing his son driven to the blind fury that he himself knew so well was even more disturbing than witnessing the savage acts of his race, a race that prided itself on honor. And just as Trunks' memories had invaded his consciousness through their connection, so did the young man's unbearable pain. It was too much. Too much anguish…too much suffering…they must pay…they must pay…

 

The men holding the girl tried to escape, but Trunks spied them and threw blasts of ki that sent them reeling. He moved to finish them, but Vegeta had seen enough. “Trunks!”

 

Trunks looked up at him with the eyes of a madman. “Don't let them live, Father! They deserve to die for this! It's just like King Kold! What he did to Mom!”

 

Vegeta froze with his words as the horror of that Future Bulma came back to him. Only then did he notice that Bulma and the others had entered the room, witnessing the horrific attack and even more savage retribution. Arnaki was crying softly in Bardock's arms, and Bulma's face was wet with tears as she held the baby close, his face turned from the sight before them. Bardock's eyes were closed in grief, and he seemed to hold the injured girl more tightly just to comfort her. Behind them, the Queen, his mother, who had seen unspeakable horrors but could not bear the pain that this had caused to her new grandson.

 

Cordera herself was curled in a fetal position, whimpering silently in her humiliation and pain.

 

“I'll take care of them, Trunks,” Vegeta promised in a hoarse voice. “The girl…she needs you now.”

 

With less effort than swatting a fly he blasted the other two culprits into the next dimension. He glanced over at his son, who had covered the traumatized girl in his red cape, and now held her tightly in his embrace. “It's okay,” he was whispering softly, still shaking with his fury over what they had done to her…and what they had driven him to do. Even as he powered down, the rage on his face was only replaced with his anguish. And as the Saiyan in him gave way to his human half, he cried. Shamelessly. But it was alright. His father told him so in his mind. It was all alright. The blind, mindless violence. The storm of emotions within him. The grief. The relief. It was alright. Vegeta had felt it too. All of it. And there was no shame in any of it. I am proud of you, my Son…

 

Vegeta motioned to the others to leave them alone. The girl needed Trunks now. Now more than ever. But Trunks needed her too. He only hoped this little catharsis had in some way assuaged the demons of his son's past. The girl would do that. He knew. Bulma had done the same for him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vegeta had brought them all back to the Summer Palace, thinking it far safer than returning to town. Bulma had put the baby to sleep, then seen to the girls' wounds as best she could without access to her capsules. The Queen had sent for a doctor, who had set Arnaki's broken arm and ankle, and given her a sedative. Cordera's care was not so simple. Still numb with her shock, she could barely speak to them. Bulma and the Queen had bathed her, and the doctor had examined the damage to her body, most of which was internal, though her struggling had left her battered and bruised. She'd been medicated to prevent pregnancy, and given something for the pain. But Bulma knew that the physical damage was only a small part of what the girl had been through, and would heal more quickly than the emotional wounds.

 

When Bulma did not keep busy, she could see and hear it again in her mind. It replayed over and over, the girl's screams, the lecherous Saiyan's evil grin as he'd taken the last thing she had left…And then there was Trunks, her little boy turned into a vicious killer, transformed by a grief and pain she knew went far deeper than what he had suffered today. His words, that this was just like what King Kold had done to her, still made Bulma shudder. The fate her son had rescued her from left her with the same feeling as the time she had nearly been hit by a car, had it not been for the quick reflexes of the driver. To have escaped death. To have escaped Hell. Cordera's fate could have been her own. It had been in another time. And she could not imagine the horror of it…

 

She jumped as Vegeta touched her lightly on the back, an odd reaction to him since she usually felt him before he touched her. Without thinking she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, crying softly.

 

He held her in silence, and she had no doubt that he had felt the disturbing train of her thoughts. For a long while he simply held her, letting her cry. Seeing it all had affected him too, she knew. And watching their son rip those men to pieces—though they undoubtedly deserved it—had shocked even him.

 

“He'll be all right,” he told her softly, hearing her thoughts. “They all will be. In time. Even the girl. Their love will help them to heal each other's pain.”

 

She looked up at him, smiling lightly. Such an odd statement from him, and yet she knew it was from personal experience that he spoke. I love you, she said in his mind.

 

Vegeta kissed her lightly, then reluctantly let her go. “I need to get back to the Palace. Finish this once and for all,” he said darkly.

 

“I'll go with you, Father,” Trunks said loyally, stepping up to him.

 

Vegeta shook his head. “No, Trunks. I need you to stay here and protect our family.”

 

“You're not going anywhere without—” she began to protest.

 

“No,” he said firmly. “You will stay here with the baby, the girls and Trunks. You have all been through too much today.”

 

With that she could not argue. It had been difficult enough to shield tiny Trunks from the violence before him. His elder version was not putting up an argument either. As much as he wished to fight at his father's side, he wanted to be at Cordera's side as well.

 

Vegeta turned to Bardock, who had entered the room with the Queen. “Bardock, you will come with me. You will apprise Kakarot of the situation—”

 

“There's something I think you should see first, Ouji-sama.” The seer led them all into the next room, where images from the capital were splayed across the video monitor. That annoying reporter from the Saiyan News Service stood before the camera as wild protests and fights broke out around her.

 

“We are here outside the royal Palace, where King Vegeta has just summoned a Press Conference. Apparently, the King was attacked by Prince Vegeta and Prince Trunks and held wrongly responsible for the kidnapping of the infant heir. Civil war appears on the verge as supporters of both the King and the Prince clash in the streets. The Rebels responsible for the attack on the royal fleet earlier today have now come out publicly with their support of Vegeta Ouji. The King is calling his son a traitor and demanding he renounce his crown immediately. So far, there is no word on the location of the Saiyan Prince and his family…”

 

“That lousy son of a bitch!” Bulma exclaimed.

 

Vegeta didn't seem a bit surprised. “He's desperate! He knows he can't defeat me with his power, so he'll try to turn them against me with his lies.”

 

The Queen shook her head in utter disgust. “If your father is one thing, he's a consummate liar. Vegeta, you must go to the people now. Expose him for what he is. And I will be there at your side as proof of his long history of deception.”

 

Vegeta nodded, his eyes showing what Bulma recognized as a smile. Vegeta fought his battles alone. Yet having his mother at his side meant more to him than he could have ever imagined.

 

“Dad, are you sure you don't want me to come along?” It was clear Trunks was torn between his duty to his father and to the woman he loved.

 

Vegeta shook his head. “You've done well today, my son,” he reassured the young man. “You showed them your power…and you destroyed our enemies. But this…this is my battle. And I must finish it. Once and for all.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sky was alive with bursts of ki, and the dust and rubble of the nearby buildings littered the streets. The King had stepped outside and stood at a podium, his loyal guards and supporters closely surrounding him as protesters from the crowd roared insults, only to be repaid with physical attacks by the King's men. It was a free for all, the kind of chaotic combat that thrilled a Saiyan's blood. But there was no joy in this conflict that amounted to nothing less than civil war. Vegeta could not remember an instance in his people's history when half of the population had openly rebelled against the King. The position of the King had always been inviolable. Respect for tradition and the pure superior strength of the royal lineage had kept even the most disgruntled Elites from daring to rebel. Insurgencies were unheard of before the Great Destruction. But then again, this was the first time their race had ever been brought back from the dead. There need be no speculation as to where this monarch's policies would lead them. He had already brought about their destruction once. Vegeta was proud of the segment of his people who were wise enough to know that change was necessary if the Saiyan race was to survive. Yet his pride was overshadowed by his shame that his own father had been the first King Vegeta to lose the respect of his people.

 

He seemed so weak now, in strength and in character, a shadow of the man Vegeta had once thought his father to be. He stood there now, in a feigned pose of power, spouting his lies to a crowd that knew better. It was…pathetic. Vegeta would be doing him a favor by ending his shameful existence.

 

“My son has brought dishonor to the Saiyan race! I can only assume that his years under Frieza have corrupted him, and made him ignorant to the ways of our people. For that reason, I will spare his life. But I have no other choice than to disinherit him. I can never allow him to bring a half-breed bastard heir to the throne. I hereby exile him from the Saiyan Empire!”

 

The roars of approval were loud but few. Much more prevalent were the cries of “No! Hail Vegeta Ouji!” that filled the King's face with angry indignation. But even the show of support did not hearten the Saiyan Prince. Nor could it assuage the blinding fury at his father's words. He crashed down onto the podium, smashing it to pieces so unexpectedly that the King nearly lost his balance. Cheers rang up as the crowd recognized their prince, and the King's followers stepped back in fear of the Super Saiyan.

 

Extending a gloved hand to point at Vegeta Ou, he accused, “It is you who have dishonored our people, Ottoussama! First by selling your son as hostage to Frieza, and then foolishly allowing him to destroy our planet! A greater King would have at least learned from his mistakes. Instead, you plotted with King Kold to hand over yet another Saiyan Prince!” There were gasps from the onlookers as he made his father's treachery public. Vegeta turned to them, fully aware that those blasted journalists were recording every moment of this confrontation. Good. Let the whole world know the truth. “Had my son, Prince Trunks, not traveled from the future to warn me, I would be dead, and Vegeta-sei would be destroyed once more, this time by Frieza's father! My Princess, the woman responsible for bringing life itself back to our planet and our race, would have been taken as a prize by King Kold, along with the last surviving Saiyan—my infant son.. This is the future I have prevented my Father from bringing upon our people!”

 

“That's a lie!” Vegeta Ou protested. He looked desperately at his ministers; even his staunchest supporters seemed taken aback by the accusations. “Will you believe an arrogant brat who hasn't even lived amongst us since he was nine years old, and has let himself be totally smitten and controlled by an alien whore?”

 

The public insult to his woman only added fuel to Vegeta's wrath. Energy crackled around him as his ki began to soar with all the rage of a lifetime, until the palace and surrounding structures nearly shook to the ground. The transformation itself was nothing Vegeta had planned. Even at Super Saiyan, he could squash his father like an insect. But as he thought of all his sire had done to him and to those he loved—his mother, Bulma, his infant son, that Bulma who had been brutally tortured, and the son who had been scarred for a lifetime— his hatred and contempt grew into a beast of fury. Even Vegeta Ou's eyes opened wide with fear as he gazed upon the red-furred, half-man, half-beast that was his son in his Super Saiyan 4 form. Vegeta stepped towards his father, smirking in satisfaction as the once-proud King backed away from him.

 

“They may not believe me, Father!” he roared. “But they will believe your Queen!”

 

Then his mother was at his side, just as she had promised, just as she should have been for so long…

 

Vegeta Ou fell to his knees in true astonishment and horror, as the two greatest victims of his disgraceful life stood before him, prepared to utterly destroy him, one with his immeasurable power, the other with the strength of truth.

 

“Ra—Rabia,” he managed, though his voice was failing him.

 

The crowd had fallen silent, until the Prime Minister, Melangianes, shouted in amazement and joy, “It's the Queen!”

 

“My people!” she cried in a commanding voice. “Everything my son has told you is the truth! Your King has lied to you countless times, beginning with his most despicable lie of all—telling you that I was dead! Your King took my infant son from me, and sent me into exile to prevent me from raising him to be the good man his father never was! Your King refused to heed my warnings that the Tsiru-jins would take our honor and pride from us. Your King is a coward, who was too weak to go against Frieza and instead sold his son into slavery!”

 

The crowd was in frenzy now, screaming out their support for Queen Rabia and her son, the most powerful being they had ever dreamed possible. She stood there regally, still beautiful though she, like Vegeta, had aged over the last thirty years. Vegeta's heart welled with pride in her, a pride he had never felt again for his father since that first betrayal.

 

“Hail Rabia Ouhi! Hail Vegeta Ouji!” they shouted at the tops of their lungs.

 

“My People!” the Queen called to silence them. “For thirty years I mourned the destruction of our race, unable to undo the damage that the King had brought about. And I watched from afar as my son became a man, corrupted by his father, and then by Frieza. But I always sensed the good that still lived within him, and the strength to be a great King, a far better King, than his father could have ever hoped to be. You see before you now,” she said motioning to her son, “a man who has triumphed in spite of the evil and misfortune that pervaded his youth. Transformed not only into the Legendary Reborn, but into a great leader with the power and wisdom to lead our people to the better future they deserve. In the very short time I have spent with him and his family, I have seen the honorable man that he has become. And for this I thank not only the gods, but Princess Bulma.” She paused, looking at Vegeta with a beautiful smile. “She has not only given me back my planet and my race…she has given me back my son.”

 

The crowd was howling now with their support as Vegeta's mother finished, stepping aside to allow her son to do what he had begun. He looked at his father, incensed to see an arrogance despite the truths that had been revealed.

 

“Everything I did, I did for the survival of the Saiyan race,” he said stubbornly, not bothering to refute any of the Queen's allegations.

 

“You are a disgrace to the Saiyan race!” Vegeta boomed, raising his palm towards the King. . Vegeta stepped towards his father, his teal eyes blazing with hatred as the once-proud King backed away from him. “You have betrayed your son, your Queen, and your people for the last time!” he proclaimed in a voice deeper than his own.

 

“No, Vegeta, please…” his father began weakly.

 

The blast silenced him once and for all.

 

Vegeta turned to the others in the multitude, the ministers, the Elites, and the ever-growing crowd of onlookers who had rushed to the source of unimaginable power. Both ally and foe alike were stunned at the turn of events, as if unsure what to expect next. Should they fear him? Should they embrace him? “Is there anyone else who questions my right to lead my people?!” he dared them. “Is there anyone who challenges my choice of Queen, or the legitimacy of my heirs?!”

 

No one dared speak, even move. Finally, the Prime Minister, Melangianes, stepped forward and bowed to his knees. “No, Sire. There is no doubt you are the Legendary reborn. No one questions your right to ascend to the throne, choose your Queen, and name your heirs.”

 

In a show of agreement and respect, the others fell to their knees.

 

Vegeta surveyed the crowd, nodding his approval, acknowledging their show of respect. Not far from him, Bardock's expression showed that things had indeed played out as they were meant to. With a glance at his mother, her eyes brimming with tears of joy for him, he powered down to his normal state.

 

“No Saiyan need fear me,” he proclaimed to the crowd. “And no loyal subject need fear for his or her safety on Vegeta-sei. Henceforth, citizenship is granted to all residents of this world. Let there be an end to slavery, and an end to tyranny. The Saiyan race will prosper and flourish—but not at the expense of innocent lives. No Saiyan army will ever raze an alien planet or enslave its population for economic or political gain. Yet we will fight our enemies and ensure that no alien King will ever again force us to succumb to his will or relinquish our honor and our pride! Strength with honor—this is what I vow to you all today!”

 

There was no voice silent as the cheers broke out. Commoners and Elites, Slaves and Warriors, all felt the excitement in the air as a new day dawned for the Saiyan Race.

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

Nearly a week had passed since the death of the King, and Vegeta's historic speech. His words had sent shockwaves not only throughout the planet, but the galaxy as well. Planets that had feared Saiyan domination now scrambled to form trade alliances with the new government. Though Vegeta had not yet taken the throne, many of his programs had been set into motion. Everywhere former slaves rejoiced their freedom, many choosing to stay on the new Vegeta-sei with the promise of citizenship, civil rights, and paying positions that the government would subsidize to help ease the burden on the former slave-owners. Pleasure slaves were, of course, no longer legal. It hadn't taken much for Bulma to convince her husband that this was an immediate necessity. Vegeta's speeches on the degradation into which his father's government had fallen were well received by the planet's conservative factions, and the more liberal of the Elites were swayed with the argument that honor forbade such treatment of inferior races that could not defend themselves. Free, safe passage was being provided for the former slaves who wished to return to their home planets. For those whose worlds had been destroyed, there were two options; to remain on Vegeta-sei, or be relocated to a Saiyan colony on a nearby planet that would be converted into a haven for them. Bardock had already begun working on establishing educational and job training programs for those, like the former pleasure slaves, who would have to start a new life.

 

None of this would be easy. Changes in the labor force were causing difficulty in every walk of life. Though none would dare challenge the new Saiyan King, Vegeta was aware that discontent would mar what he'd hoped to be a peaceful revolution. But he was determined to keep the promises he had made, to his people and to himself. For that, Bulma was bursting with pride in him. He would be the best King Vegeta-sei had ever seen.

 

They'd remained in the Summer Palace while repairs and renovations were being carried out on the Royal Palace in the city. Vegeta had wanted to erase any reminders of his father, and would not occupy his suite until it had been thoroughly changed. Bulma had been thrilled when he'd told her that their entire old suite would be her laboratory. With all that space, she could invent to her heart's content, all the while remaining close to Vegeta as he executed his day to day duties.

 

There had been no question that the Creas-sei-jin girls would live with them in the palace. In a short time they had become like family, and Bulma had cared for them in their recovery as if they were her own daughters. Vegeta was not at all the demonstrative type, but knowing him better than anyone, Bulma knew that he was fond of the young girls, especially Arnaki. Still immobile with her broken leg, the younger sister had been bored to tears, and when she'd asked Vegeta if she could watch him spar with Trunks in the gravity chamber, he had carried her there himself, setting her down gently on the grass outside the dome where she could watch them blast each other and the training drones. He'd made a special point of letting the girls know they were no longer servants, but permanent guests in their home, and had told Bulma to have the Royal Seamstress provide them with a good supply of casual and formal attire. It was a debt he owed them, he had told her one night. His father had taken everything from them. It was the least he could do to care for these two last survivors of a dead race. But Bulma knew it was more than that. He genuinely liked them, and had become very protective of them. She could only wonder how Vegeta would react if and when they had a daughter of their own…

 

It was already mid-morning when Bulma went to check on Cordera. Understandably, her recovery had not been as swift as her sister's. The purple bruises on her body were just an outward manifestation of a far greater damage that had been inflicted upon her spirit. She was not the same as she had been. Bulma tried to interest her in the progress of the lab, but the girl's eyes were devoid of any enthusiasm. And much to Trunks' frustration, she had shied away from him as well. Bulma had told her son to give the young woman time, but she could see how much it hurt him not to be able to comfort her. He'd admitted to his mother that he was in love with Cordera, though Bulma had not been surprised in the least.

 

What did surprise her now were the voices she heard as she stopped short before walking into the girl's room. She was distraught, and perhaps that was a good thing. It was better than the silent depression that had characterized her first few days after the attack.

 

“I know it's hard,” Trunks was saying.

 

“How could you know?! How could you possibly know?!”

 

Trunks seemed to hesitate, but said, “The things…that happened to me…my life before I came here…it was…a worse Hell than you can imagine…”

 

“Worse than everything I've been through? I don't think so, Trunks. I've lost everything, now. Everything!” She was sobbing openly now.

 

“No, Cordera. Not everything…Not…the way I feel for you.”

 

The sobbing stopped. “Trunks…what…are you saying?” she asked in a small voice that betrayed a ray of hope in all the despair.

 

Bulma could hear Trunks sigh deeply. “Let me…show you. Let me show you how I feel…Let me show you who I really am…And let me…share your pain.”

 

Bulma's jaw dropped in absolute shock, but tears came to her eyes as she realized what her son was about to do. He would show Cordera the most secret, most shameful part of his past, so that she would know that he truly did share her grief. They were both sole survivors, and he would ease her pain by making it his own.

 

He would bond with her.

 

“Just tell me one thing first,” he said softly. “Do you want to know me, Cordera? Really know me? And do you want…to be with me? To be…mine?”

 

“Yes, Trunks,” she breathed.

 

Bulma knew what was happening. She could almost see her son touching the girl's face gently, initiating the contact that would create a permanent connection between them. She heard Cordera gasp as she must have seen things Bulma didn't even want to imagine, horrors of his life in that other time. And then, Trunks seemed to cry out softly as all that Cordera was, all she had seen and felt, became a part of him…

 

Bulma walked away, quickly, guilty for having heard so much of the intimate exchange. But her heart rejoiced for the two and what she knew they would share from this point on. Her little boy would be happy at last. Nothing could give a mother more joy than that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vegeta slowly pushed the gravity level up to 150 G, from time to time stealing a glance at the woman who stood at his side watching and observing with interest the handiwork of Bulma and her father. It was nothing to him, really. He and Trunks had trained in 400G for months. But the experience was new to Queen Rabia, and his eyes opened wide in admiration as she seemed to compensate for the gravity by raising her ki to a level higher than he'd seen her display. Her raven hair seemed to stand up on end as electricity crackled about her, and Vegeta thought to himself that it would not surprise him in the least if someday she reached Super Saiyan. He'd never even contemplated his mother's power levels. Believing that she had died in childbirth, he'd actually assumed that she had been…delicate…though he knew that as an Elite she must have been stronger than most women. Seeing her apparent strength filled him with pride…and some other dark emotion that he could not really define.

 

“Your Queen is as brilliant as she is beautiful,” his mother observed, floating up into the air and stretching her limbs gracefully as she assessed her own body's performance in this higher gravity. “You say she can raise this to over 400G?”

 

“Probably a great deal higher,” he replied dryly. “But she is a stubborn woman with a ridiculous protective streak in her. She refuses to raise the gravity because she is afraid I will overexert myself.”

 

“Or crush yourself as flat as a Zopul-jin cake,” she replied knowingly.

 

“Pancake is the Earth food she usually refers to,” he replied, looking at his mother suspiciously. Something told him that his mother and his woman had spent a great deal of time discussing …him. That couldn't be good. “She has no need to be concerned,” he said. “I'm the most powerful being who ever lived—“

 

“And you are also the man she loves,” the Queen broke in, smiling.

 

He hadn't expected such a statement from his mother, and he could feel his face grow hot with his embarrassment. The disparity between his two parents grew wider each day, and he began to wonder how they had ever found common ground. His father would never even think of such things, much less voice them aloud. Was it because she was a woman? Or was the image his father had ingrained in him of the Saiyan psyche more a reflection of his own twisted thinking than a true representation of his culture?

 

His mother could see his discomfort and quickly said, “You should never be ashamed of her love, Vegeta, or your own for that matter. Had it not been for your love for your family, you might never have achieved all that you have today. Bulma and that beautiful little boy brought out the part of you that your father would have seen destroyed. And I thank the gods for that.”

 

So do I, he said silently, though he could see in her eyes that she had heard him.

 

The Queen lowered herself to the ground to stand before him. “Come,” she said, thankfully changing the subject. “Why don't we do what we came here to do?”

 

He looked at her blankly. “I thought you wanted to see the GT Chamber…”

 

“I did,” she told him. “And I am duly impressed. Now, I want to spar with you.”

 

Vegeta couldn't help but laugh. “You've got to be kidding—”

 

“I am absolutely serious!” she told him firmly, the anger that rose in her eyes the first he had seen directed at him since their reunion.

 

It utterly sobered him. He didn't want to upset her. Yet how could he possibly comply with her request? It would be almost as ludicrous as sparring with Bulma…

 

“As your mother I should have had the privilege of watching your power grow, of testing your strength,” she told him with a fire in her eyes. “It is something we were both denied. Will you deny me that small but precious pleasure now?”

 

“Of…course not…” he said slowly, not realizing until now what it meant to her. Only then did it occur to him that he had never seen any Saiyan mother and child interact. His conception of what a mother was had been shaped totally by observing his own woman with their son. He'd constantly berated her for coddling the boy, but at the same time had grown to respect and even envy the closeness that Bulma and Trunks seemed to share. When his mother had suddenly come back into his life, he hadn't known quite what to expect of her, or what she expected of him. He was a man, after all. Even if Saiyan mothers held their children and showed them affection, he knew that that opportunity had been lost forever. Except for that moment when he had first realized it was her, and he had cried in her arms. Just thinking of his moment of emotional weakness was embarrassing—yet it had given him a feeling of comfort and safety that he'd rarely known in his life.

 

But…sparring? Surely as a child he would have sparred with her, a playful kind of training as he'd first learned to fight. But now? “Mother…I am far too strong for you,” he said gently, wincing as he saw the anger in her eyes tinged with hurt.

 

“I am an Elite, Vegeta, are you forgetting that? I bore you, boy, after ten hours of difficult labor. I think I can hold my own in a friendly sparring match!”

 

Vegeta smirked. This might be fun. “All right, then. I'll let you take the first shot. If you can catch me.”

 

Queen Rabia grinned, her eyes gleaming with a hunger for battle that vied with his own. And then it began, a wild flurry of punches and kicks that he dodged with relativistic speeds. He marveled at his mother's swift movements, as she struggled relentlessly to land a hit against her powerful son. She was stronger than he'd imagined, faster, with a greater stealth than most would have under these conditions. In frustration she tried shooting small blasts of ki that he deflected as if they were nothing.

 

“Tired yet?” he teased as he grabbed her wrists.

 

“Not a bit!” she cried, and kicked him in the stomach.

 

She'd caught him by surprise, and he had to admit to himself that it more than stung. He was glad she hadn't aimed lower. With his ki shield down…

 

“There!” she cried triumphantly. “I've gotten the first shot. Now, stop holding back and show me what you can really do!”

 

He tried his best to let loose, to forget that this was his mother, as he began trading blows with her, gauging her response to see just how far he could go. She was an amazingly skilled fighter, with moves he had never seen before, and a tireless energy. She was relentless, yet never even broke a sweat, a respectable showing for even a Saiyan woman who was nearly sixty years old. He blocked a left punch to his jaw, but missed the blow to his ribs. By pure instinct he struck back, but with more force than he'd intended, and he watched in alarm as his mother fell to the floor.

 

“Mother! Are you all right?” he cried floating down to her.

 

“Of course I'm all right!” she told him indignantly, wiping the blood from her nose.

 

“This is enough,” he pronounced. “I will not continue this—!”

 

“You're not even giving it your best!” she told him angrily, coming to face him. “You're still holding back! Is this what you used to defeat Frieza? Or King Kold? Your father was stronger than this!”

 

“I am not my father!” he cried, fury raging from within him suddenly. “And I will not take the chance of hurting you! I will not lose you again!”

 

His secret fear hung in the air between them, and he cursed himself for his weakness in letting it spill forth.

 

But his mother's eyes softened. “You will not lose me, Vegeta. I am not made of glass. I am an Elite, and was probably second only to your father in strength—“

 

“Then why did you let him send you away!?” he blurted suddenly, before he could even consider his words. “Why didn't you fight them? Why did you let them take you away from…from me?!”

 

He wasn't sure where this explosion of emotion had been lying in wait, but once spoken the words were as venom being ejected from his spirit. A hidden rage and resentment he hadn't even consciously known was there, erupted without warning as he heard his voice speak words that had come from his heart and not his mind. He deliberately clenched his jaw to prevent his traitorous mouth from uttering any more secrets his soul had hidden even from himself. He knew if he spoke another word he would lose total control.

 

His mother's eyes filled with tears, and he knew that it had been more than his accusation, but the sense of his anguish that had pervaded her mind and spirit. “I…had no choice, Vegeta. I could have fought off the guards…but not your father. And he told me that if I refused to go willingly, he would…kill you. He said he could easily sire another brat, but that if I went off in exile he would raise you to be his successor.” She paused, looking into her eyes with the agony that they shared. He believed her. He had to. His father had done worse than kill him. Strangling an infant and saying it had been born dead would have been nothing for the inhuman bastard. His mother stepped towards him, touching her hand to his cheek. “I am so sorry, Vegeta,” she whispered. “I had no way of knowing that he would turn you over to Frieza. I didn't even think your father capable of something so despicable as that. If I had known what would happen to you, I would have rather seen you dead, than suffer what you have.”

 

Vegeta covered her hand with his, taking it and kissing it lightly. And for the second time in his life, his mother wrapped her arms around him, soothing the lifetime of pain that the little boy within him had had to endure without the benefit of her love. Only now did he know what had made his childhood so desolate, what that emptiness within him had been. How different things would have been if she had been there to guide him! How differently his life would have turned out if he had known tenderness rather than cruelty, love rather than rage, solace rather than humiliation.

 

Releasing her finally, he looked into her eyes, as he admitted softly, “I have done monstrous things, Mother. Murder and destruction that I can not even begin to tell you. Had it not been for Bulma, I would be that monster still.”

 

“You are no monster, my son,” she assured him, running her fingers through his hair. “You were raised by one, and tortured by another. But despite all that, there was still good in you that that young woman saw, and nurtured. And now, you are a great man. You are more than the Legendary Reborn. You will be the greatest King our race has ever known. And I could not be more proud of you.”

 

Her words warmed his heart more than he could acknowledge aloud. Instead, he smiled at her lightly and said, “Then you will forgive me if I call an end to this sparring session. It would be unseemly for the Queen Mother to attend her son's coronation with bruises on her face.”

 

Queen Rabia smirked at her son, and Vegeta realized it was definitely a mannerism he had inherited from her. “I'll let you off easy this time, but the next time you must promise to at least go Super Saiyan.”

 

He agreed, fully convinced that she could handle it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bulma had finally gotten Trunks to nap, and had come to the living room to work on her computer. It would be good when they moved back into the Palace, and she could spend time in her new lab. For now, she was limited to working out schematics on her laptop, and she couldn't wait to turn her new inventions into reality. There would be so much to do! Encapsulation technology hadn't been made public yet, but once Vegeta made the announcement she would be on a whirlwind tour of scientific facilities, introducing the Saiyan scientists to its various uses and instructing them on how to produce their own capsules. At first she had been wary; what if insurgent factions were to use the technology for some violent end? But Vegeta had assured her that they would not begin production until all the insurgencies had been quelled. Sometimes he was a little too overconfident though, she thought. Although things had gone relatively smoothly in the last week, that didn't mean that all of his opposition had been destroyed. She was afraid that once the transition of Vegeta-sei hit its inevitable hitches, some might take the opportunity to lash out against their revolutionary new King.

 

Vegeta had scoffed at her concerns, certain that no one would dare oppose him.

 

Bardock seemed pretty relaxed too, and that was always a good sign. Bulma suspected, however, that Bardock's good spirits were due more to the time he had been spending in the company of Queen Rabia. Vegeta had been too preoccupied to notice the connection between the two, and Bulma was afraid of what his reaction might be once he learned of the history between them. After all, Vegeta genuinely liked Bardock, but she knew he would not be very happy when he knew what had been slowly happening over the last few days…

 

“Hi, Mom. Uh, is Dad back yet?” Trunks interrupted her thoughts and she looked up to see her son looking at her nervously. He had no idea that she already knew what had transpired between him and Cordera. The Creas-sei-jin girl had walked into the room with him, and Bulma smiled to see her. How much more at ease she seemed, how…happy. Bulma knew that unique feeling of joy and comfort that only a bond with one's mate could bring. It was clear that Cordera's bond with Trunks was already invigorating her spirit with a peace and optimism that the girl had probably thought lost forever. Trunks too seemed renewed, although his apprehension about telling his parents that he had chosen a mate was clouding his face right now.

 

“I don't know what's taking them so long,” she said, closing her laptop and rising to look at them. Trying her best not to embarrass the girl by giving away what she already knew, she asked warmly, “How are you feeling, Cordera? I'm so glad to see you up and about.”

 

“I'm much better, Princess,” Cordera said, her face aglow with barely concealed happiness.

 

“I told you not to call me Princess, anymore,” she reminded the girl warmly. “You and your sister are like family to us. Bulma is just fine.”

 

“Thank you, Pr—I mean, Bulma,” Cordera replied shyly.

 

“Really, Mom, do you have any idea when he'll be back? Didn't he just take Grandmother to see the Gravity Chamber?” Trunks broke in impatiently.

 

“I wouldn't be surprised if they ended up sparring,” she remarked, only half kidding.

 

“With his mother?” Trunks asked in surprise.

 

“And what's wrong with that, young man?” she teased. “You mean you wouldn't spar with me?”

 

Trunks smirked. “I wouldn't dare, Mom. You'd probably beat me. And it wouldn't be the first time.”

 

Bulma laughed, just as the door swished open to admit the Saiyans in question. Bulma was not in the least surprised to see the bruises and spots of blood on Vegeta and the Queen that were the tell-tale sign of battle. “Do I know my Saiyans or don't I?” she remarked to Trunks and Cordera.

 

“What are you three looking at?” Vegeta asked gruffly, though his wife could see that it was more a façade than real annoyance.

 

“You proved me right,” Bulma told him smugly. “I was just saying I wouldn't be surprised if you two were sparring.”

 

“It is a very traditional form of mother-son bonding,” her mother-in-law explained. She pushed stray hairs from her face. “You should try it with Trunks sometime, Bulma,” she suggested cheerily. “It was fun.”

 

“No, I'm afraid of Mom, Grandmother,” Trunks told her with a grin. “She's pretty scary when she gets mad.”

 

“That's for sure,” Vegeta concurred, the slightest smile in his eyes as he glanced at her.

 

Queen Rabia laughed, then said, “If you will excuse me, I'm going to shower and change before dinner.”

 

“I should do the same,” Vegeta said, turning to follow his mother up the stairs.

 

“No, Dad, wait!” Trunks stopped him. “I need to talk to you.”

 

“Can't it wait, Trunks?” Vegeta asked grumpily, turning back to them.

 

“Please, Father,” Trunks replied seriously. Something in his manner told Vegeta that this was important.

 

Bulma motioned for Vegeta to stand beside her, and he did so. “Just don't complain that I reek of battle, woman,” he murmured, knowing that she normally liked him to bathe after sparring.

 

Trunks took Cordera's hand then, and stepped towards his parents. “I wanted to tell the two of you before anyone else. I've asked Cordera to be my mate, and she's accepted. We'd like to be married in a traditional Saiyan ceremony. But we would like to ask for your blessing.”

 

Trunks seemed to hold his breath for a moment as he awaited his father's response. Vegeta smiled at them, a genuine smile of approval. “You have it, my son,” he told Trunks, patting him on the arm. “You've made a good choice.”

 

“Thanks, Dad,” Trunks said breaking into a wide grin, his whole body seeming to sigh with relief.

 

“Thank you, Ouji-sama,” Cordera said gratefully. Had she really thought Vegeta would disapprove?

 

“If you are to be my daughter, girl, I won't have you calling me by any titles. Father will do fine.” His voice softened as he said, “I can never restore what was taken from you and your sister. But you will be a Saiyan Princess now. Everything Vegeta-sei has to offer is yours. Both of you will be a part of our family.”

 

“Thank you,” Cordera said gratefully, her eyes misting over.

 

“I'm so happy for you!” Bulma cried then, hugging them both at once. She'd held in her excitement quite long enough. “I knew you two were perfect for each other!”

 

“I think you knew before I even did,” Trunks told his mother as she hugged him again.

 

“Well, this calls for a celebration,” Bulma said as she put her arm around Cordera.

 

“I'll leave the planning of that to you,” Vegeta told her. He smirked, then said with a twinkle in his eye, “With your permission, Your Majesty, may I take a shower now?”

 

“Please do,” she said winking at him. She didn't even have to read his mind to know that he was truly happy right now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The reaction to the news of Trunks and Cordera's betrothal was received with just as much excitement at dinner that night. Arnaki cried out that it was about time, as she ran to embrace her sister and new brother-in-law. Even Chibi Trunks looked happy, and Bulma wondered just how much of all this the baby actually understood. Vegeta was in exceptionally high spirits, though she knew he was secretly nervous about tomorrow's coronation. Even Goku's stunning observation that Vegeta might be a grandfather before long didn't seem to irk him. Vegeta had simply replied that even his one-quarter Saiyan grandchild would be more powerful than any of Kakarot's offspring. Bulma had glanced at Bardock to see his reaction to Vegeta's boast, but the Captain was too involved in conversation with Queen Rabia to have heard.

 

“I bet you can't wait to see Gohan and Chichi,” she told Goku, changing the subject as Vegeta seemed to follow her glance.

 

“Yeah, I'm really happy Chichi agreed to come with your parents, Bulma,” Goku replied. “Do you know when they're supposed to get here?”

 

“Poppa said sometime tomorrow morning,” she replied. “I told him to kick in the booster rockets so they make it in time for the Coronation at sunset. They're really excited for Vegeta.”

 

“I look forward to meeting your parents, Bulma,” the Queen told her from across the table. “Vegeta and Kakarot have both spoken so highly of them.”

 

“Is that so?” she said smiling sweetly at Vegeta. He frowned, embarrassed to be found out.

 

“I heard you tried out Bulma's father's Gravity chamber,” Bardock said to the Queen. “An amazing training tool, isn't it?”

 

“Oh yes,” she replied, glancing at Vegeta. “I'm hoping that next time we spar my son will at least turn it up to 200G.”

 

Bardock raised his eyebrows, glancing from mother to son. “You actually sparred?”

 

“Yes,” Vegeta told him, rubbing his ribs. “She actually got in a couple of lucky shots,” he teased her.

 

“Lucky indeed!” she huffed. She grinned at Bardock. “Care to try it out after dinner? We can start at 50G if you think 100 is too difficult for you,” she said playfully.

 

Bardock's face grew crimson, but more so at the offer than the taunt. “I don't think that would be a good idea—“

 

“Why not?” she prodded. “Bardock, it certainly would not be the first time. It's been years since I last kicked your—“

 

“Rabia, I don't think—”

 

“Please? For old time's sake?”

 

“Wow, you mean you two have sparred before?” Goku asked excitedly, though the surprised look on his face was nothing compared to the pure shock on Vegeta's.

 

“It was a long time ago, Kakarot, before Ra—before the Queen was, uh, Queen.” Bulma nearly burst out giggling at how flustered Bardock had become.

 

“This is news to me,” Vegeta said tersely, his annoyance obvious.

 

“I think it's time for dessert,” Bulma broke in before the conversation could go further. The last thing she wanted to see tonight was an argument, and she could feel her husband seething. Luckily, the mixture of human and Saiyan delicacies quelled the discussion. Food always worked that way with Saiyans. But she knew that Vegeta would not be satisfied until he knew what was going on. And even then, he wouldn't be very happy.

 

 

 

 

 

“All right, woman, tell me if you know anything at all about what the hell is going on between my mother and Bardock!”

 

She looked up at him from the bathing pool, her breasts floating invitingly in the soap suds. “Calm down. Get in here with me, and we'll talk.”

 

He growled as he threw off his clothes and obeyed her, knowing it was just a ploy to calm him. She knew damn well that once he was in the bath with her, all thoughts of anything but taking her beautiful body would literally go down the drain. The water was warm and soothing, and as she laced her arms around his neck, pressing her softness against him, he knew that his anger was slipping away. Damn this woman for her power over him! She knew him like a book! It was infuriating! It was maddening! It was…

 

It was…glorious. A low moan escaped his lips as she ran her fingers over his length. “Devious woman…” he murmured as he captured her lips with his.

 

Now what was that you wanted to talk about? she purred innocently in his mind as her legs wrapped around him, and her warmth beckoned him. He seized her bottom with both hands, lifting her up and onto him, teasing her with his engorged tip, until he heard her take in a breath with her own anticipation. Two could play at this game, he thought to himself slyly. The sweltering heat of her desire made the bathing pool seem cool as she began to lower herself onto him, but with all the restraint he could command he held her back, tantalizingly close yet painfully far. She broke their kiss to look at him wide-eyed, but he merely smirked devilishly, satisfied that he had proven he was not utterly enslaved to her.

 

“You will tell me what you know,” he breathed with as much of a commanding tone as he could muster, then added, “…later…”

 

“Yes,” she hissed, as they both gave in gladly to their little battle of wills.

 

 

 

 

 

He'd taken her to the bed and made love to her again, the subject of his concern long forgotten as he was reminded once more of how much he needed her. The stresses of the day, and apprehension over the great burden that would be officially placed on his shoulders tomorrow, all disappeared in the bliss of becoming one with her in body and spirit. She had brought him this far, and without her, he would still be the raging beast that she had tamed with her love. He would not be King, in fact, the Saiyan Race would still be no more that a bad memory, had she not come into his life. He was glad that she knew his feelings through their bond; he could never tell her just what she meant to him. Any half-assed attempts to do so had been feeble at best. Even those three words that meant so much to her, that were so hard to ground out, were insufficient. I love you couldn't even begin to encompass all that he felt for her.

 

She was asleep in his arms now, snuggled against his body, and he instinctively tightened his embrace. Her ki was as steady as the calming beat of her heart, and yet his need to protect her seemed even more powerful tonight. Had her close brushes with death made him so terrified of losing her? Or did knowing that he had not fully crushed all his opposition fill him with this dread of leaving her unprotected?

 

Without realizing it, he had squeezed her too tightly, and she awoke with a start. He loosened his hold on her, though still hesitant to let go. “I'm sorry…go back to sleep,” he said softly as she lay back down against his chest. For a long while he lay awake, cursing himself for forgetting his own strength. It was difficult to remember that his woman, despite her inner strength, was still a delicate being whom he could accidentally hurt or even kill if he were not careful. The mere thought made him shudder.

 

“Vegeta?” she asked softly, looking up at him with concern. “What's the matter? Can't you sleep?”

 

He was tempted to say no, and to rise for some early training as he often did when his body had had enough rest. But he wasn't ready to leave her. Not just yet.

 

“Just waiting for you to tell me what you promised you would, woman,” he lied, though he was sure that she felt the myriad of emotions running through him.

 

She smiled knowingly, lying down on her back to begin the tale, and his curiosity was piqued as he realized there was some real story behind this. “Well, it seems that your mother and Bardock were childhood friends,” she began.

 

He turned to face her. “That's nonsense. My mother is an Elite, and Bardock—”

 

“It seems your maternal grandparents weren't as snooty as your father, Vegeta. They were neighbors, and played together as children. They even sparred together.”

 

“That is playing for Saiyan kids,” he remarked absently, trying to imagine his mother and Bardock as young children.

 

“I get the idea they really liked each other,” she commented, “but once your mother was betrothed to your father, her parents made her stay away from Bardock.” She smiled wistfully. “I think she really broke his heart.”

 

Vegeta rose up on his elbow to look down at her in shock. “Woman, are you trying to tell me Bardock…had feelings for my mother? That's preposterous! Where did you hear such nonsense?”

 

“Straight from the horse's mouth,” she told him.

 

“The what? Woman, are you calling my mother some sort of animal?” he accused with indignation.

 

“Ugh! It's an expression, Vegeta,” she told him in exasperation. “I meant, I heard it directly from her. We were talking one day this week, and when the subject of Bardock came up, she just told me.”

 

“And in exactly what context did Bardock come up in conversation?” he pressed, frustrated that she was not giving him more detail.

 

She touched his cheek, knowing that her caress would soothe him. “They care for each other, Vegeta. I think they're in love, although I don't know if either of them has admitted it yet.”

 

“That's ridiculous,” he scoffed, not wanting to accept something that was just too complex to contemplate. “The Queen Mother can not take as a consort some third class warrior!”

 

“Oh really?” she retorted, suddenly hurt. “You can actually say that after all we've…”

 

She didn't finish, but he realized with remorse that he had just said something terribly foolish. “It's not the same, Bulma,” he stammered, though he knew very well that it was.

 

“The King can marry a weak human, and the Prince a former slave girl, but the Queen Mother has too much class for that?” she said with fire in her eyes.

 

“You are no weak human, and Cordera is a fine young woman,” he began. “But Bardock?”

 

“He's a good man, Vegeta. He's smarter than the average warrior. Do you know that he invented the artificial moonlight orbs? And he's honorable…”

 

“And he's Kakarot's father,” Vegeta finished, voicing his main objection. “Gods, woman, if she ever took him as a mate, that would make Kakarot—“ He couldn't even finish.

 

“Your brother?” she finished for him, the slightest teasing smile on her lips.

 

He shook his head as if trying to clear it of that thought. “I don't want to think about this now,” he murmured. “The son I've only known for less than a year is getting married. That's sufficient for now.”

 

Bulma smiled contentedly, glad probably, that he had taken the news so well. But as he bent down to kiss her and end the discussions, a shroud of sadness seemed to fall over her face. He kissed her anyway, thinking it nothing more than the sadness of a mother about to lose a son she had barely had the chance to know. But when she responded without her usual passion, he knew it was something else. He reached into her mind, surprised, and somewhat alarmed, to find that whatever was bothering her was being consciously obscured from him.

 

“What is it?” he asked softly, hoping his voice did not betray his rising dread.

 

“Nothing,” she lied. She was not a good liar, and she knew it.

 

“Bulma, please,” he whispered insistently.

 

She took a breath. “It's just that… Trunks and Cordera are planning on having a Saiyan wedding ceremony. And it just occurred to me that we never actually had any kind of real wedding ourselves.”

 

He looked at her blankly. “That's what's troubling you? Bulma, a Saiyan ceremony is nothing more than a tradition. It's not something that must be done for a couple to be married. They need only pledge their commitment privately, and, if they choose to, bond—as we have. No one would question that you are my mate, my wife if you prefer that word, but it's all the same.”

 

“Not to me, Vegeta,” she said quietly.

 

He paused, not quite understanding. “Are you saying that our bond alone is not commitment enough?” he asked, knowing that he sounded as hurt as he felt at that prospect.

 

To his relief, she shook her head. “No, no, I'm not saying that. Vegeta, I'm your wife, and I love you. It's just that for humans the actual ceremony is a tradition too. An important one. I always dreamed of my wedding day, knowing it would be the most important day of my life. I just wish we had had the chance to have some kind of rite, whether human or Saiyan.”

 

“You could not be more a part of me than you are now,” he said tenderly, wishing that could be enough. She smiled at him brightly, and he kissed her, hoping he had quelled that concern.

 

Then he felt it again. That slight pull of her ki that was somehow different. That need to protect her. To hold her. More than their bond. Something….

 

He kissed her more deeply, his hand caressing the soft warmth of her flesh, stopping to play with her breasts then moving downward…

 

At her abdomen he stopped, as the ki he had felt as part of hers suddenly took on its own life. The new life of the baby girl that had begun to grow in her womb probably without her even knowing yet.

 

Was this why she was so emotional now, why she longed for that silly sentimental ceremony that could not possibly make her mean any more to him than she did now? It didn't matter. All he wanted to do now was hold her, hold them, in his embrace. And suddenly, letting her know of his love, in the ways that mattered to her alone, was not as difficult as he had thought. It was the least he could do for all that she had done for him.

 

Taking his face in her hands, he caressed her cheeks as he looked into her eyes with unabashed emotion. “You are my Queen,” he said, his voice trembling with the joy of what he knew, “and I love you.” Her eyes filled with tears at his words, and she reached to kiss him, but he added, “and if it would mean so much to you, then we will take part in whatever ceremony you wish.”

 

“Oh Vegeta,” she wept, kissing him deeply. He had made her happy. Blissfully happy. He could feel it.

 

He hadn't even told her about the baby. Soon enough, she would know. For now, it was a secret between him and his daughter.

 

 

 

 

 

There were literally tens of thousands of people gathered outside the Royal Palace. Saiyan Elites and soldiers stood side by side with the new non-Saiyan citizens who had come to witness the coronation of the King who had given them their freedom. No insurgents had surfaced to spoil the grand event, and the air was filled with optimism and excitement as Vegeta stepped forth on the platform where his mother would bestow upon him his crown. Bulma stood behind him, Trunks, Cordera and Arnaki at her side, while Baby Trunks, in her arms, looked on wide-eyed at the enormous crowd. To their right stood the Royal Council, their numbers decimated since the traitors had been purged, proudly showing their support for the new Monarch. To their left were their special guests. Momma and Poppa stood proudly watching their son-in-law, while Chichi and Gohan stood close to Goku, just happy to be with him again. Chichi had finally relented to her husband's wishes, and had decided to remain on Vegeta-sei—provided of course, that Gohan continue his education. Bardock was delighted. It was clear that he adored his grandson, and was thrilled that Goku and his family would not be heading directly back to Earth. Bulma also knew from her mother-in-law that her little sparring session with Bardock had gone exceptionally well. She wouldn't be surprised if the two were to marry very near in the future.

 

Poppa had also brought them a very special surprise. On the way to Vegeta-sei, he had stopped off on Korwal-sei to pick up Rossdark and his family. It had been a wonderful reunion, and even Vegeta was pleased to see their old friends. Rossdark had repaid his debt when he'd wished for Trunks to be brought back to life, and his presence today made it clear that former slave worlds of the Tsuri-jins gave full support to the new Saiyan King.

 

Queen Rabia stepped forward to stand before her son, her face filled with a pride and happiness that made her even more beautiful. This was the moment she had dreamed of from the day she had been forced into exile, and the entire planet knew that this was what their beloved Queen wanted. She nodded to Vegeta and he knelt before her, his head bowed. “Do you swear by your honor to protect and lead the Saiyan race and all the inhabitants of this world?”

 

“I do so swear,” he replied solemnly.

 

“And will you work towards the peaceful growth of our civilization, restoring to us greatness without loss of pride, `strength with honor'?”

 

They were the words Vegeta himself had used in his speech that had been shown non-stop on the airwaves in the last week. With resolve he responded, “Yes. I vow this to you all.”

 

The Queen nodded with approval as she placed the crown upon his head. “I hereby bestow upon you the crown on Vegeta-sei. Henceforth you will be known as Vegeta IV, King of all Saiyans.”

 

Cheers broke out in the crowd as Vegeta rose to his feet. He turned to her then, extending a gloved hand as he beckoned her to stand beside him. She did as he bid her to, this time holding the infant prince proudly in her arms for all to see. The baby giggled, reaching out chubby hands to his father, and in a move that stunned at least some in the crowd, Vegeta took his son into his right arm, as he held her hand tightly with his left. Applause broke out once more as the journalists flashed shots of the tiny heir dressed in a miniature version of his father's garb, replete with flowing red cape. Queen Rabia smiled at the scene as she ceremoniously removed the jewel-studded tiara from her own head, placing it on Bulma's bowed one. She turned then to the crowd, proclaiming, “I present to you all, King Vegeta IV and Queen Bulma I. May their rein be blessed by the gods!”

 

Once more the cheers rang out, as the entire planet seemed to join in the thunderous show of support. I'm so proud of you, she thought to him, looking up at him with tears of joy in her eyes.

 

And I owe this all to you, he whispered silently in her mind as he looked at her with unabashed adoration. He looked down at the child in his arms. To all of you. Then he turned his head, motioning for the elder Trunks and his betrothed to join them. Even as the young man stepped forward, the cheers resounded once more, for the young Prince whose heroic journey through time had saved not just his parents, but his entire race, from a horrible fate.

 

Bulma glanced at them all proudly, her King and her two precious Princes, and she knew that everything was as it was meant to be. Almost fifteen years after having chased those first dragonballs with Goku, her dreams had finally come true.

 

So have mine, Vegeta told her silently, his eyes betraying more contentment and peace than he had ever known. So have mine.

 

He kissed her chastely on the cheek, and the crowd roared. He was not the kind of King they were accustomed to.

 

He was so much more.

 

 

 

The End

 

[Thanks to everyone for following this story so closely, and for all your encouraging emails! I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I know some of you may find Vegeta OOC, but I tried to show what he would be like if he had never had the shame of being second best to Kakarot, and if he had been free to be “himself” with Bulma without anyone around to see or judge him as being un-Saiyan. I hope in the future to write a sequel, where we'll see Trunks settle his debt with King Kold in the other timeline. And yes, I want to show more of Queen Rabia and Bardock…Til then, thanks again for your support through this very long project! QueenSaiyajin}