Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unfaithful ❯ Part Four: 28 ( Chapter 28 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

..................................U N F A I T H F U L

........................................................................ ...........Rhapsody~*



________________________~*Part Four*~: War
.
.
.
.
.
Darkness.

At first, that was all that Magdalene could see from beneath her closed eyes. She had just begun to rethink the logic of this hasty plan when the blackness before her began to turn into something else. Flickers of an image teased her, then materialized into something more. A memory.

She was in King Vejita's mind, looking out from his seat on the throne to the rest of the throne room, still much like it was today. Before her husband stood two guards who held a rather angry-looking Saiyan woman between them. Magdalene's heart accelerated at the sight-- for that woman was her, years ago, the first time that she had met face-to-face with the Saiyan King.

Seeing herself from the king's perspective allowed Magdalene to finally realize the true status of their relationship. The girl before him was more stunning than traditionally pretty; you would remember her more for her striking features than for her delicate looks, and the king liked that. A man could get sick of looking at the same kind of woman for so many years. The truth was, he had loved her more because of the fact that she fascinated him than whatever feelings of lust or love he had felt. Had there really been any at all?

Magdalene had clearly been the product of good breeding, with distinctive, dark features and the athletic body typical of a Saiyan. The exception to this was the color of her eyes-- an unusual emerald green. She could have been scorned or labeled an outcast for this trait, but somehow, it looked right. And besides, it was a rare person who could get past the scowling lips and stubborn chin to break the news to her anyway. There was no doubt in King Vejita's mind-- she was a fiery one, and would prove to be difficult to control. A challenge.

"Is there a reason for you calling me here, Your Majesty, or are you just going to stare at me all afternoon?" the girl, barely twenty years to the king's twenty-six, snapped. And when the guards motioned for her silence, she spat on the floor near to them, her startling green eyes smoldering with a contained fury. "I will not be silent when someone is staring at me, you idiots! I despise people who stare at me!"

The king was surprised in spite of himself. Never in his life had a woman-- any woman-- dared to speak in a sarcastic manner to him. Magdalene (the one playing visitor in her husband's mind) was not all that shocked to discover that the man liked it rough-- with his women, his wars, and his sparring. "You've got quite a mouth on you, girl. You'd best learn to keep it shut, or else it'll get you in trouble one of these days."

A thin brow was raised, and the king could tell that she wanted to roll her eyes at him. At least she had enough sense to restrain herself in that. "It already has, Your Majesty. Is that why you've summoned me here? I don't think that I've offended anybody important recently." Magdalene inwardly was amused at how much her son exhibited her rebellious nature.

"I have called you here so that I could meet the woman I have been hearing so much about," King Vejita replied humorlessly, his black eyes scanning over her wavy hair and impatient expression. "You turned down the general's marriage proposal recently."

"And?"

"Rumor has it that you cracked a dinner plate over his head in front of the entire court yesterday. I don't know about you, but I would classify that as 'offending someone important recently."

Magdalene clearly remembered that all-important event from her youth. The general of the Saiyan army had been handsome enough, and certainly rich and powerful beyond every girl's dreams, but the man was the epitome of perverted. He had had the audacity to attempt to feel her up beneath the dinner table! The woman's famous temper had gotten the better of her, and so she had struck him with the nearest available object-- a heavy pewter dinner platter. Needless to say, the general had harbored one hell of a headache and quite a few stitches as a result of that night. Despite the hype that had surrounded the entire ordeal, Magdalene didn't regret doing it a bit.

"The man had attempted to touch me in a very inappropriate manner, Vejita-sama." Magdalene, expecting a punishment, defiantly crossed her arms across the bodice of her simple gray wrap. "I thought it only fitting to let him know that his advances were not proper or appreciated."

Instead of the angry reaction she had expected, King Vejita actually began to laugh. It was a rather saditious laugh, but filled with humor nonetheless. When the green eyes grew to an exaggerated proportion, it caused him to laugh even harder. Magdalene knew that this was the point in time in which King Vejita had decided that this girl struck his twisted fancy. Her heart filled with dread, even now.

"Lady Magdalene, you interest me," he announced, his laughter cut off abruptly. King Vejita never did anything subtley-- even changing emotions. "I have arranged for you to meet me tomorrow at this time."

The young Magdalene looked incredulous. "Arranged?! Did it ever occur to you, Your Highness, that I might be opposed to th--"

Her protest was cut off by a severe motion of the king's gloved hand. "There will be no questions about it. I'll see you tomorrow."

As the angry, shouting noblewoman was escorted-- or rather, dragged-- out of the throne room and away from the young king, Magdalene felt her husband abruptly change moods again. But this time it changed from humor to ambition.

Soon after her younger self was forced from the room, a wiry-looking advisor came into the room, his arms full of legal papers. At his entrance, the king smirked and rubbed his hands together in a conspiring way. He had plans for a particular court lady and himself, plans that would change (and eventually end) his life.

"Did you find the Lady Magdalene to your liking, sire?" the advisor asked.

"The bitch is certainly not the norm," King Vejita mused. "But she's interesting enough to keep me busy for a while."

The advisor nodded his approval. "I have all of the necessary documents here. All you have to do is sign on the line, and then collect Lady Magdalene's father's signature, and then its official."

The king took the papers and offered pen from the man, then signed his name in a spidery print. "Its a damn good thing that the woman's father signs the marriage papers, or else I would be a single man."

The two men's laughs erupted and filled the throne room with their shady malice. Magdalene, suddenly suffocated with the memory of the unhappy marriage that had been nearly forced on her, desperately wished that she could suddenly extract herself from her husband's mind. All that this memory showed her was the extent of her husband's ability to hide his true motives. And Kami knew that her son was also showing this 'talent'. But her husband was not finished yet.

The darkness returned, then faded into yet another scene, a scene that was just as familiar to Magdalene now as it was then. The gravity rooms.

Judging by the styles of the soldier's workout garb, the date was early in their reign, probably almost two years after their marriage. Her husband, clothed in all black, was surrounded by four of his training comrades and leaders of the Saiyan nobility. They were engaged in a heated battle, and by the looks of it, King Vejita was dominating.

"Holy shit!" one of the men exclaimed as a red ki blast, directed by none other than the king himself, just barely missed his head. "That was a cheap shot, Vejita-sama!"

The king disregarded the nobleman's remark and instead furrowed his brows and powered up even higher. The set of his dark facial features betrayed that he was consumed with anger. Magdalene could not tell what it was that he was upset over, because he was carefully masking and tucking away his emotions-- something common in their family, obviously. Both senior and present-day Vejita smothered their feelings until their tempers ran explosive. Magdalene was grateful that at least her son had inherited a tiny bit of her control.

"What are you, some kind of pansy?" the king snapped, lashing out at the complainer with more force than before. "This is a sparring match, not a chess game!"

The other men stood back from the two, black eyes wide, bracing themselves for the unnecessary beating that was sure to commence. The unfortunate target was slowly getting backed up towards a wall, and King Vejita showed no signs of slowing down.

"What ails you, Your Majesty?" the victim pleaded in a hasty effort to save himself. "Perhaps it can be worked out in a more peaceful manner, hm?"

"What ails me?" King Vejita smirked-- oh, how he resembled his son-- and rolled a fateful bit of ki between nimble fingers. "What ails me none of your concern."

The gravity room was filled with blinding red light, and when their Saiyan eyes adjusted again, where there once had been man stood a smoldering pile of ashes. The stink of charred flesh caused the other nobles' eyes to water, but the king seemed unaffected. In fact, when he turned back around, he wore a genuine smile on his face. Magdalene was sickened now and had been then at his way of venting his frustrations.

"I'm relieved to see that you're feeling better, Your Highness," one of the men said, wiping his damp brow. "I can definitely understand how that could help you to get rid of some of your tension. Frustration affects your fighting skills, you know."

"What are you saying?" the king asked, narrowing his eyes. "That I fight like shit?"

"N- no! Of course not! Weak emotions apply only to lower men like ourselves, Vejita-sama, never to you!"

As the king advanced on the man, his fellow nobleman could not help but distress at the plight of his companions.

"You stupid motherfucker!" he shouted, running a hand through his hair. "Why is it that every time you open your huge ass mouth, something bad always happens?!"

Magdalene attempted to close her mind's eyes as her husband slaughtered the two men, but found that it was impossible. The best she could do was focus at a spot on the floor, and even then, the combined blood of the two unfortunate 'friends' of the king splattered into her view and marred her vision. Their screams ripped through her sensitive ears, and if she could have joined her distressed voice with theirs, she would have. He was torturing them for pleasure and release, she realized-- much as her son had done and would likely do now, to a lesser degree, or so she hoped.

Thankfully, her husband took the burden of the men's screams off of her and moved her on another vision, this time in a setting unfamilar to her.

On this foreign planet, green, seemingly endless plains stretched out before her, interuppted only by a few wiry, half-dead looking trees shaped by the winds. Beside one of these was what looked to be a village, filled with terrified, green-skinned creatures that Magdalene recognized as Nameks, the people who had inhabited a planet purged by her husband years ago. They had been a peaceful, intelligent people, but not advanced in defense at all.

Surrounding the village were troops of Saiyan men, commanded by King Vejita himself, clad in the traditional black and crimson battle armor. Even the battle-ignorant Nameks recognized what those colors meant-- certain death. Now, however, the men appeared to be simply lounging around, watching the terror-stricken natives with little interest. King Vejita reclined in a chair at the head of the village, speaking boredly to one of his advisors.

"They are a harmless people, Your Majesty," the advisor was saying to his king. "Perhaps they can be of some use to us. We could recruit them for labor in our factories. And also, they seem to possess great healing skills--"

"Healing skills?" the king scoffed. "Injuries make a soldier stronger, so why the hell would we need healing skills? Besides, these fools bore me."

"But we can't just--"

"I can do whatever I please." With a heavy sign and a yawn of boredom, the king gestured to his men. "Kill them-- at least that's more entertaining than watching them run around all day."

This time, Magdalene was lucky enough to be able to shield herself from all the fighting by focusing in on the clear Namekian sky. Absently, she noted that the color was almost as blue as Bulma's eyes. Bulma... Magdalene wondered whether the humans would keep her son Vejita busy enough so that he wouldn't pull a heartless stunt like this one. For their sake, she hoped that they had some pretty impressive technology.

By the time the cries and moans of the dying Nameks faded from her ears, Magdalene was out of the hell that was her husband's memory and back standing in front of his grave in the lonely Vejitasei desert.

The former queen couldn't decide which was worse-- the reality of the past, or the reality of this tumultuous present. Judging by these images relayed to her by her husband and the sight of the Saiyan armies slowing gathering at the capital, she was safely able to decide which was worse.

Whether the planet was ruled by her son or his father, the circumstances were the same. If there was one thing that she had learned from visting in her husband's mind, it was that the two men were more alike than she had ever dared to imagine.
.
.
________________________________________________________________________ ________________
.
.
.
Maylene glanced around in disgust at the chaos going on around her. She had been groped by random partying soldiers countless times already this night, and she didn't know how much more she could stand. Frustration caused her to grip her cup of cheap beer until her knuckles went white, and several of the women standing around her shifted away warily.

Earlier in her life, she had always been up for a good party, but even by her standards this was over the top. The scale of the celebration had gotten blown up to proportions that only Yamcha could manage. The men seemed fooled, but she was not. This wasn't a party for the benefit of the soldiers-- it was a party to bring Yamcha into their favor, therefore sweetening the doubtlessly disheartening war to come. Hell, for all these men knew, the Saiyans could be surrounding the dark city even now as they carried drunkenly on. But Maylene seemed to be the only one to recognize that fact, and so she sat against an abandoned building near to the entrance of the palace, bitter and alone.

One of the other women that had been in Maylene's group stumbled over, clutching an overflowing cup of the cow-piss that they called beer in one hand. Oblivious to her companion's scorn, the girl plopped down on the ground next to her, sloshing some of the warm liquid onto Maylene's skirt in the process. She was a normally quiet girl, called Gabrielle, who had come from the outskirts of the city. Maylene had hated her from the start-- the naivete that this girl possessed was extremely annoying. Her parents had probably been a lot of country bumpkins, the former noblewoman scoffed.

"Wow, whatuh party!" Gabrielle exclaimed, the words she spoke running together almost incoherently. "What are ya doin' here all by yur lonesome?"

Maylene spoke through clenched teeth. "Avoiding the drunken fools-- like you, for example."

The insult seemed to roll right off of Gabrielle's back, because she giggled and disregarded the saucy statement. "Tha's nice! Didya hear? Yumcha n' Bulmuh are gonna show up later. I... think..."

At this, Maylene's interest in the situation increased-- but only just barely. "Where did you hear that?"

"Straight from the mouth of the captun hisself!" the girl assured her, gurgling some of her beer inbetween statements. "And wut a nice mouth it turned out ta be..." Gabrielle's pink tongue actually protruded through her lips, as if she were kissing the captain even now.

"Good Kami!" Maylene burst out in exasperation. "Get the hell away from me, you disgusting little shit!"

Gabrielle got up, but only after spilling the rest of her drink onto Maylene's lap. Then she stumbled her way back into the crowds of testosterone-driven soldiers. Maylene watched her leave with a glowering scowl.

If Gabrielle had heard the news from a captain, then it must have some truth behind it, Maylene reasoned. Besides, if the king and queen were going to make an appearance, they would have a tent or something set up so that they would be separated from the pressing crowds of people. Perhaps if Yamcha got distracted and drawn towards the drinks, she could quickly slip in and get a word with Bulma...

Re-energized by the thought, Maylene pointedly ignored the rank beer stains on her already dirty dress and got to her feet. She was about to join in the crowd when she ran into somebody.

"Dammit!" she growled, trying to push past the person. "Get out of my way!"

"That's not a very nice way to treat an old friend."

Maylene looked up and realized that her oppresser was indeed an old friend, if that's what you could call him-- the former Lord Byron. Remembering his foolish ideas of rebellion from earlier, she rolled her eyes. She had no desire to talk about his fanatic, jealous imaginings right now.

"Some people have more important things to do than party and pine after lost lovers, you know," she snapped cruelly. She of all people knew that Byron wasn't quite as pathetic as he seemed, but in her agitation she ignored this fact. "I've got to get through this crowd, so leave me be."

"I just want a word," Byron pleaded, putting an unwelcome hand on her shoulder.

Maylene glared at the offending appendage. "You've already had plenty."

"Listen-- I've heard that Yamcha is going to bring Bulma later--"

"Two steps ahead of you," Maylene interuppted, taking the man off-guard and then brushing past him. Then, over her shoulder, "Have fun planning your cute little rebellion, 'Lord' Byron!"

She knew that her words were unnecessarily harsh, but the knowledge didn't bother her. All her life she had been offending people without a second thought-- so why start regretting it now? As far as she was concerned, Byron could start his idiot rebellion all by himself. It would serve him right for indirectly causing Bulma so much pain. But that wasn't quite fair either, her conscience whispered. He's being no more protective than you are.

"She was-- is-- my best friend," she muttered to herself under her breath, trying to justify her own protectiveness. Ah well, she thought. If all else failed, she could just claim that the beautiful queen had put her under her spell as well. But anyways, she had to think of an idea, and she couldn't allow her fickle conscience to get in the way.

When she reached the area in front of the palace, she could see for herself that Gabrielle had not been lying. In a corner between two columns of the palace and another building, a tent with the royal colors was being erected, and sure enough the palace guard had stationed two men there. But so far, there was no sign of the royal couple. Fortunately, the guards had all the appearances of being intoxicated, so they wouldn't be too hard for Maylene to handle.

Just then a commotion went over the crowd, and Maylene glanced up to see the two monarchs slowly descending down the palace steps, surrounded by four alert guards. Thanks to the burly men, she couldn't get a clear view of the royals. She swore under her breath and carefully blended herself in with the crowd as the king and queen walked right past to sit in their tent.

"Make way for the king and queen!" the guards shouted at the few partygoers who were dumb enough not to move. "Make way!"

Maylene was about to move forward, closer to the tent, when a hand gripped her elbow. She didn't even have to turn around to guess at who it was.

"Have you seen her yet?" Byron asked anxiously. "How does she look?"

"No, I haven't," Maylene replied shortly. "And she probably looks as good as she usually does."

"I'm going to move forward to get a better look."

Maylene seized his arm before he could move. Honestly, he must be dimmer than she had originally given him credit for! "Are you mad? What do you think will happen when Yamcha sees you?"

Byron's face fell. "Damn, I had almost forgotten about that. Now that I think about it, you can't be seen either."

With a smug grin, Maylene tugged up the hood of the cape she was wearing and gave him a little wave of her hand, since he couldn't see her face through the darkness that her hood provided. "You must think me quite stupid. I mean to get a closer look, maybe even speak to her when Yamcha walks away." For some reason, Maylene didn't immediately depart. A little part of her wanted to know what Byron thought her own little plan.

"You're so different," he said after a moment, studying her with his hazel eyes. "I remember you as being ah... high-strung, but now you're a downright hardass."

Maylene lifted her chin. "Life has not been easy these last couple years, for anybody in the city," she answered quietly, in a slightly kinder tone of voice. He was different, too, she realized. Not so gallant. Apparently he had learned that being Bulma's knight in shining armor was a great deal more difficult than it used it be. "Now I'm going to get a closer look. See you later."

With her head down she moved away from Byron and towards the newly-erected tent. Since she had a more petite stature than any of the soliders who stood in the front row of observers, she was easily able to get away with standing in front of them, and took full advantage of this. But when she saw the king and queen, she almost wished that she hadn't been able to get through the crowds after all.

Yamcha looked normal enough, except for the abnormally smug smile on his face and the oversized mug of beer in one hand, so it was Bulma who had drawn the startled reaction from the partygoers. And for justified reasons, Maylene noted disgustedly. The woman felt the urge to jump into the tent and strangle the life out of Yamcha for all that he had done to her friend.

The queen wore one of her Saiyan-style wraps, the like of which Maylene had never seen before. While the white garment was stunningly beautiful and especially so on a goddess like Bulma, it was a great deal too sheer and too form-fitting for the Earth styles. In fact, it was bordering on-- if not surpassing-- vulgar. The transparent fabric left nothing to the imagination, from the gentle swell of Bulma's bosom and dark nipples to the willowly lines of her small body. The only part of her that was not revealed, thankfully, was her ah, private female attribute-- over the wrap had been placed a heavy golden belt, which sufficiently covered the area. To add the appalling indecency was the fact that the shining curls of her hair had been left free-flowing, except for small sections in the front that had been weaved into intricate patterns typical of the styles of the noble women. Never would such a violation of the human traditions be tolerated if she hadn't been the queen. Besides, the majority of the men didn't seem to mind. They crowded around the tent like pack of wolves watching particularly attractive prey. Looking over her shoulder, Maylene was infuriated to see that Byron was one of them. So much for being the gentlemen!

But no one seemed to be enjoying all of the attention and uproar more than Yamcha himself. He would glance over at his stoic wife (the vacant expression on her pale face frightened Maylene more than tears ever could have), then at the throng of lustful soldiers, and chuckle to himself. Finally, he stood to speak, and a loud cheer went out over the crowds.

"Good evening!" he began, his voice coated with oilyness and false sincerity. "I hope that you are all enjoying yourselves for the last time before the war comes upon us." The people shouted in agreement, and Yamcha went on. "I have decided to join you-- along with my lovely wife, your queen-- to assure you that this war can be won. Don't lose hope yet! The Saiyans are formidable enemies, but they are not without their weaknesses, I assure you." The crowd seemed doubtful-- just the reaction Yamcha had been hoping for. "Speaking of their weaknesses, we have their new king's very own right here in our hands!"

He was talking about Bulma, Maylene realized. So there was a bit of truth behind the rumors-- that brief flash of jealousy that went over Yamcha's features at the mention of that told her that perhaps Vejita hadn't raped and beaten her after all. The Saiyan King must be quite a catch to arouse such wrongdoing in a broken woman like Bulma, the girl mused to herself.

Suddenly, Yamcha seized Bulma's arm and jerked the unresponsive woman up next to him, where the entire crowd could see. Whoops and whistles sounded from around Maylene, who turned around to glare at the shameless perverts, but to no avail.

"Here, my faithful men, is your motivation!" Yamcha announced, gesturing to Bulma in all of her revealing glory. "If you can get past her other... attributes... you will notice the horrible bruises that score her body-- bruises inflicted by none other than the Saiyan King himself!"

The crowd was decidedly predictable-- they booed and chattered amongst themselves angrily. Maylene herself seemed to be the only exception. Was she the only one who could see the truth?

"He has beaten her, violated her, fouled her reputation and spirit!" Yamcha ranted on. "See how she does not react? He has damaged her, poisoned her mind! So you see, we cannot let the Saiyans get away with this act of treason!"

All of Maylene's thoughts were drowned out by the overwhelming, roaring agreement of the masses. Beers were raised along with fists, and the soldiers shouted with renewed inspiration. Maylene, however, was not as impressed with Yamcha's little show as they were. It was truly pathetic when you had to pull a stunt like that to get the support of your people. But Yamcha was not done yet.

"Keep in mind these things that I have said," he reminded the crowd as the noise began to die down. "Because there are hard times ahead of us. Well, ahead of you, anyway." And with that he grinned mischeviously and reached over to grope his wife and cover her mouth with his own-- an act unexcuseable under normal circumstances. On Earth, even the holding of hands was regarded as shameful.

After getting over their initial shock, the crowd cheered again. Maylene felt as if she would vomit. If men like these were orchestrating the war, then they were all screwed. Saiyans took no prisoners, rumor had it. At the same time, her heart was breaking for her friend. Bulma had been forced to endure way more than any ten women should have. It was no wonder that she had retreated inside herself, becoming a mere shell of a person. Maylene could only hope that she was not beyond help by the time the Saiyans arrived.

Who's side are you on? her conscience pestered, once again. Earth is your home. Would you rather see your people slaughtered and your planet taken over by people like the Saiyans? Wisely, Maylene chose not to address that particular issue quite yet. For the moment, she had bigger fish to fry.

When she turned back to the tent to observe her sitution, however, all of her ambition disipated. Not just the original four men were guarding the tent anymore-- Yamcha had doubled the guard, and every single one looked sober. So, he wasn't entirely stupid, she thought in frustration.

"Planning to talk to her, were you?" Byron asked from behind her. "Too bad. I suppose I'm not the only one making stupid plans now, are I? What are you trying to do, copy me?"

"Save it for someone who cares," Maylene retorted, turning to face him. "It would have worked if Yamcha hadn't decided to pull that little stunt."

Byron's face contorted into an expression of anger. "That was low. I underestimated him."

Maylene poked his chest with an accusing finger. "You were enjoying the entire thing, just like every other male, and almost as many females! Who are you to scorn him?"

"I can't help my natural reaction any more than the others could," Byron insisted, his face flushed pink. "Dammit, Maylene, when are you going to take me seriously? I've got a legitimate idea, and at the moment it doesn't look like you've got anything better!"

It was Maylene's turn to blush. "For the moment, anyway. Any fool could come up with something better than a rebellion like that! After this, who would join you in your cause?"

Byron smiled. "There are more people who support Bulma than you think. Its mainly his armies that follow him anyway. Given a choice, almost everybody would side with me. Besides, its common knowledge that it would be a miracle if we could hold our own against the Saiyans. Their famous for their ability to overcome technology and defeat their enemies, remember?"

"Why do I have the feeling that I'm not going to be able to escape this half-assed plan of yours?"

Bulma's former lover could not help but grin. "Because you're too damned stubborn to go down without a fight, that's why."
.
.
________________________________________________________________________ ________________
.
.
.
Magdalene moved through the city as fast as her legs could carry her, her jaw set in absolute resolution to do what was right-- warn her son of just who he was becoming to be like. Above all things, she recalled, that was what Vejita feared most, down below all of those layers of almost inpenetrable pride. And besides that, it was the only weapon she had left.

Getting through the palace doors was easy enough, the guards had apparently had orders to let her come and go, and she was allowed to pass after confirming her identity. She couldn't help but smile a bit at this. Vejita must have thought that he had some use for her, or else she had no doubt that he would have had her put 'out of the way' until the war was over. Her smile lasted until she reached the grand doors of the throne room. The two stationed guards-- Vejita's personal guard, she noted-- stepped in front of her with menacing looks on their faces.

"You aren't allowed clearance here, Your Highness," one of them warned. "King Vejita's orders."

"Not allowed clearance?" Magdalene repeated incredulously, hardly believing her ears. "Into my own damned throne room? Ridiculous! Let me pass immediately!"

"We were given specific orders, and we mean to follow them." The guard crossed his arms over his chest, and Magdalene could see that he wasn't going to change his mind easily. "Go about your business, the king is busy now."

"May I ask with what?"

The guards, predictably, faltered at her question, and the former queen took the opprotunity to use what Saiyan strength she had to push past them and burst through the doors of the throne room, nearly falling over as she did so. The men followed her angrily, taking hold of both her arms and then bowing before their king.

He was, in fact, occupied. Turles, always loyal to his longtime friend, and the head scientist of the planet stood around a table covered in legal documents. War plans, most likely. They all looked up when she made her rather unorthodox entrance. The scientist and Turles showed nothing more than mild surprise, but Vejita looked absolutely infuriated. Magdalene noticed a strange gleam in his eyes that hadn't been there before-- an almost manic rage that he was carefully trying to suppress, by the looks of it.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded. Then, to his guards, "You incompetent fools! How difficult is it to keep one weak female out of my way?"

"We're sorry, sire," they stammered, suddenly weak and uncertain under the king's glare. "It won't happen again."

"I know that it won't," her son assured them. "Because you two will no longer be in charge of it."

The men seemed crestfallen, but did not loosen their iron grip on the queen. For her part, she seethed from beneath a cool exterior. She resented being treated like a common criminal in her own palace and by her own offspring.

"I came to speak with you, Vejita," she said, her chin lifted. "Would it be too much trouble for your royal self to excuse everyone else from the room?"

Vejita recognized the challenge in her voice and gestured for the men to leave temporarily. When the men, including the guards who had been holding her, had gone, he favored his mother with a bored expression.

"What do you want?" he asked. "And if you're here to beg for your throne back, then you can just turn your ass around right now." He centered his gaze, so like his father's, on her, the nature of his threat not lost on her. "I am in control now."

"I'm not a fool," Magdalene replied hotly. Clearly his newfound power and raging emotion over Bulma was clouding his mind, because normally he wouldn't have even thought of her uttering something so idiotic. "I went to your father's grave earlier."

A spark of interest lighted in his eyes, then disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

"I didn't go to leave flowers or my condolences."

A brow lifted, and finally she had Vejita's attention. "Don't tell me that you believe those ridiculous wives' tales about speaking to the dead. You would have to be a fucking loon to actually go out and try something like that."

"It isn't speaking to the dead, its receiving images from their memories, and the two are quite different." It was Magdalene's turn to cross her arms defensively. "Saiyans have been known to be somewhat telepathic, you know. What you see is poignant memories of the person, and sometimes a person can get selective ones that pertain to what they want to know."

"Say for a moment that all of this shit is real," Vejita proposed, obviously not believing her for a moment. "What would you see if you were to do it?"

"I saw many things, none of them pleasant. I saw, in a sense, you."

"Me?"

"You." Magdalene struggled to think of a way to relate her knowledge to her son without sounding like a 'fucking loon', as he had so charmingly put it. "It was like I was seeing events through your father's eyes. I could hear what he was thinking and the reasons for his actions, and I fear that I am seeing much of him in you. Too much."

"I am in no way like that bastard," Vejita protested, but it was half-hearted.

"I saw how he suppresses his true emotions, how he bottles them up until they explode and consume him and those around. I saw how he never thought before he acted, especially in battle situations. I saw his boredom and bloodlust combine to turn him into a monster." Then her emerald eyes narrowed and honed in on her son. "I saw you, Vejita. I look at you now, and I see all of these things."

"Your imagination is running away from you, Magdalene," Vejita scoffed. "You've been pushed off your throne, and this isn't quite the way I had expected you to retaliate, but its retaliation nonetheless. I will not be intimidated by what you think you saw via my dead father!"

Magdalene knew that she was fighting a losing battle. "Its not imagination, Vejita, its reality, and I wouldn't have come to you if it hadn't been. You know that I am a rational person-- why do you doubt me now?"

"Because you aren't telling me what I want to hear!" Vejita exclaimed in frustration. "How can you expect me to believe this bullshit? You have told me a fucking thousand times how different we are! You're under stress, and you're not being rational. Its a good thing I took the throne from you before this happened, or who knows what the hell would have happened."

"If you weren't so scared of acknowledging yourself, then you would understand it, too," Magdalene insisted. "I don't know why I know this, but I do-- nothing good is going to come of this hostile takeover."

"I am going to crush the weak earthlings, and bring the woman back home with me," Vejita said. "Surely you think me capable of that."

"You can't simply stroll in blindly and expect to defeat such a large planet. They have technology, and they will be fighting a defensive war. And to top that, their king is half-crazed! They may seem weak, but they are not without their weapons. Besides, you aren't just thinking of yourself anymore. You have Bulma to worry about now."

"I don't have time for this lecture," Vejita growled. "Guards!"

"Your people will never stand for this, once they know the potential of the humans," Magdalene reminded him. "They will rebel against you."

"And you and Bardock will lead them, I assume." Vejita rubbed his chin in thought for a moment, then smirked. "But not if I have anything to do with it. If you make one move to inform them of the hidden dangers, or if you act in rebellion against me, I will have Kakkarott and Bardock sent back to the third-class slums where they came from with no hesitation. Naturally, their fellow simpletons will be jealous and resentful towards them, and they will become outcasts of even the third-class, jobless and hungry. You wouldn't want that, now would you?"

Angry tears blurred Magdalene's emerald vision. He was not making an empty threat. He would do it the moment she spoke against him, glad of the opprotunity to be rid of the two men who had bothered him all throughout his lifetime. She knew that she could not allow him to go through with his destructive war plans, but now she had no choice. She couldn't condemn her friends to that horrible fate. She would rather live it herself.

When the guards came to take her away, she let them.
.
.
.
________________________________________________________________________ ________________
________________________________________________________________________ ________________
________________________________________________________________________ ________________


Rhapsody~*
+ HawaiianBabay@aol.com +
+ AOL Instant Messanger: Hawaiian Babay +

******
(A/N): Wow, this is the longest chapter so far in the story. I guess its my way of apologizing for the delay in the posting of this chapter. It was out of my control, but I feel kind of bad nonetheless. Expect the next chapter somewhere around the middle of next week, since I have Homecoming just around the corner... Ooh I can't wait! But anyway, thanks for so patiently waiting!

Please remember to review, and see ya in the next chapter...


________________________________________________________________________ ________________
________________________________________________________________________ ________________
________________________________________________________________________ ________________