Chapter 14

Gohan stood with his face upturned to the dark night sky, his countenance set and resolute. There was no doubt in his mind that his words were heard by something other than the ancient stones and the spindly plants scrabbling for purchase in the barren soil.

"It's too late to pretend," Gohan insisted to the heavens. "I've figured it out."

A tiny breeze stirred the sparse vegetation that grew between the great stones, that worked and cracked the fallen granite under his feet. There was no answer out of the darkness.

The little boy folded his arms, visage stern. "I only hear you out here. Without everyone else confusing me, I knew it had to be you. You aren't supposed to try and mess with people's minds," he added with conviction. "You aren't going to mess with mine any more."

The breeze continued to puff. The black fringe of bangs gently lifted from his forehead. Yet there was no response.

Gohan said into the night, scornfully, "Coward."

Everything stilled.

In reproachful amusement, the Voice said, "Cheap shot."

The little boy fractionally relaxed. "It always seems to work with Saiyans," he said, smugly.

"That's a dangerous assumption on several counts," commented the Voice.

"Why did you want Daddy and me here?"

"You came for your loud-mouthed Earther friend, surely. Oh, but you've abandoned her lately, haven't you?"

"Don't play word games with me," Gohan warned. "Bulma's safe with Vegeta, I know that now."

"Do you?" The breeze rose slightly on the murmur, not dangerously, but something more than a breeze for just a second before the air quieted again. "How...interesting. That's more than I know, little hybrid."

Gohan dropped his hands to his sides, his posture subtly altering to an unconscious mimicry of his father's stance, when Goku thought something might be about to happen. "You didn't answer me. Why did you want Daddy and me here?"

"Just for observation, little hybrid. You two are unlike anything this planet has produced before."

"That's because we're not Saiyans, we're Earthlings," Gohan retorted, scathingly.

"Do labels matter so much?" inquired the Voice. "You are ... what you are. An anomaly. A very intriguing anomaly."

"I don't know what you think you're going to get me to do, but you can forget it."

A supernatural chuckle created a soft breeze that tangled in Gohan's hair, playing with strands of it. "I was just interested in meeting you, little hybrid. I have yet to figure you out. Are you a genetic throw-back, or a harbinger of the future? What does your existence mean for Vejiitasei, little one?"

"Not whatever you want it to mean," said Gohan with certitude.

"So clever," murmured the Voice in admiration. "What I want is impossible, little one. I long for a return to the old days. There is no going back. The old days are gone and may not be recreated. Yet I fear the Saiyans are stagnating. The universe finds ways to eliminate stagnating species. That used to be the purpose of the Saiyans; they have forgotten it. Perhaps a rebirth is in the air, eh? Will the influx of Earthling ideas and genes shake Vejiitasei out of its complacency, or just spiral it faster toward its destruction? I look forward to finding out."

Gohan was silent, considering the words. He understood some of what the Voice meant; the Voice was talking about evolution and extinction, where species that couldn't adapt to changing circumstances perished forever. Extinction was supposed to be a bad thing. He thought the Saiyans perishing forever might not be a bad thing; the entire Universe would be safer. Yet the Voice seemed to think the way the Saiyans lived now was bad, that things had been better in the 'old days.' Had the Saiyans been different then? Gohan said, cautiously, "I don't know what the old days were like. Maybe they were worse."

The Voice's answer was amused; clearly the speaker understood Gohan's mind set. Hardly surprising, Gohan acknowledged to himself. After all, the Voice had been in his head for months, trying to goad him into unwary action, trying to determine the limits of his willpower, trying to discover if he were, somehow, worthy of something that Gohan didn't understand. It was a very good thing, Gohan thought before the words of the Voice caught his attention, that he had been trained by Mr. Piccolo instead of Daddy. "Depends on your perspective, I suppose. That's what you humans study the past for, isn't it? Perspective. That's what you call 'history.' Sit down, little hybrid. Let me give you some 'history.' Then you can determine for yourself if the Saiyans are stagnating."

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Goku yawned extravagantly, stretching his arms over his head, feeling the numerous little pops and tweaks as his joints adjusted and realigned. Sighing happily, he laced his fingers behind his head and blinked sleepily at the pale olive light filtering through the tiny green leaves and the twisted dark branches. None of Gohan's little 'cousins' were in evidence, he noted; pity, because his stomach was empty and he could use a snack. He reproached himself for the thought. Gohan did not object to catching fish for his meals, but he always drew the line at anything furry. Somehow, his son had yet to realize that fishing and hunting were really the same —

Olive light?

Leaping to his feet, Goku dashed out of the little grove, wondering if they were in the early stages of an unnamed natural disaster or if the orange clouds of Vejiitasei somehow went green during thunderstorms. He skidded to a halt, blinking in amazement. Everything was covered in a green cast, startlingly different from the yellow-orange gleam he had become used to during his time on Vejiitasei. For a moment, the entire landscape was completely unfamiliar to him. Goku gaped, not comprehending. Have I been dumped onto an entirely new planet?

If you survive the place for six months, you'll see—

"—the cloud shift," said Goku with soft reverence. Gazing open-mouthed at the emerald-streaked jade sky, Goku lolled his head back as far as it would go as he stared upward in awe. "Gohan, did you see this? It's amazing! No wonder Radditz thinks this place is — Gohan?"

The light show forgotten, Goku spun on his toes, sprinting back to the campsite.

No Gohan. Crouching, Goku placed a palm against the boy-sized hollow Gohan slept in. Cold, no hint of recent body warmth. Goku stood, shoulders back, hands forming loose fists at his sides.

Even a Saiyan would have been alarmed by his expression.

The impression of a dangerous being on the verge of violent action quickly faded, however. Goku's body language altered as he locked on to his son's ki. Gohan wasn't nearby, but he wasn't very far away, either. There was nothing to indicate his son was in danger. Walking toward the sense of his son's ki, Goku put his hands on his hips, gazing at the distant stones that some ancient civilization had erected. It was one of the few landmarks he could recognize in the strangely-disorienting green glow that bathed the terrain. Gohan was there, for some reason. Lifting into the air and speeding toward the edifice, Goku decided that Gohan had probably just needed to relieve himself and picked the stones to hide behind. Even out here where it was only the two of them, Gohan demonstrated a level of modesty beyond Goku's comprehension.

The last twinge of fear only abated when he caught sight of Gohan, sitting cross-legged on one of the fallen stones, gazing up into the verdant sky, his expression earnest and puzzled. Looking around at the big stones as he pulled up and floated down to his son, Goku remarked, "This is a long way to go to pee, Gohan."

Gohan blinked, suddenly focusing on his father. "Daddy," he said, a statement of fact. He stood slowly, alertness replacing the abstracted cast of his face. "I have to go now," he said. Folding his hands in front of his body, he bowed formally.

Goku put his head to one side, a little startled, but thinking Chi-chi would be pleased with their son's show of respect to this ancient place. He would have to remember to tell her about it. "If we leave now, we can get to Bulma's place before lunchtime."

There was a solemn nod from Gohan.

"Are you hungry?" persisted Goku. "Do you need a snack? We can swing by the big lake on the way, catch some fish—"

"I'm fine," Gohan said, calmly. "I finally figured out something that's been bothering me since I got here, that's all. I wonder when the baby's going to be born? I'm kinda ready to go home now."

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The suns were up over Vejiitasei's capitol. Chi-chi cautiously edged onto the balcony that overlooked the acres of gardens behind the King's wing of the palace, watching the unfamiliar shades of green coat the landscape without much interest. She pressed her hands carefully against the lower portion of her rib cage, feeling the ridge of material that dug slightly into her skin under her clothes. She knew the gravity harness was in place; she knew it was working. She did not find comfort in the knowledge.

Unlike Bulma, who had complete faith in the mechanical contraption, Chi-chi found herself agreeing with Vegeta. Trusting her life to a few flimsy scraps of cloth was not a good idea. It was easier for her peace of mind to stay in the sections of the palace adapted for Earth gravity. Even short, tentative ventures out into Vejiitasei's lethal atmosphere made her nervous. It also made looking after her son and husband more difficult, especially since the two of them had taken to 'exploring' the planet.

And it didn't help with Bulma these days, who was making the (in Chi-chi's opinion) dangerous trek nearly every day to Chishan's hanger, helping him restore the Tsufurun craft, taking him the plans for that absurd gravity chamber her husband wanted. Chi-chi had nearly argued with her friend over it earlier today. Well, okay; they had argued, and argued violently. As near as anyone could figure, Bulma was very close to term now, although the lack of early monitoring in her pregnancy made it difficult to pick out a range of dates for the delivery. She was to the point where simple tasks such as navigating stairs were almost beyond her. Her face had lost most of its sharp angles. Water weight (and just plain weight) softened her features, giving her a double chin that she absolutely loathed. Chi-chi well remembered the 'double-chin' stage; she had refused to have any pictures taken during her last ten days of carrying Gohan, which around the camera-happy Goku was no easy task. In addition, the baby was shifting around actively, sometimes settling onto nerves that had one of Bulma's limbs prickling from blood loss in seconds. Chi-chi had visions of a leg suddenly giving way, sending Bulma tumbling, breaking several bones and endangering the baby.

Bulma snapped that she was nothing more than a worry-wart as she waddled off to her daily tryst with Chishan.

Folding her arms (gingerly, so there was no chance at all of accidentally jostling the harness' controls), Chi-chi frowned as she stared sightlessly over the balcony's edge. Drat it all, Bulma asked her to come to this Kami-forsaken, cloudy planet in the first place because she wanted someone with a level head. Having her justifiable concerns dismissed was just so — unfair. She poked surreptitiously at the hidden harness again, trying to work up the nerve to walk out into Vejiitasei's crushing atmosphere and follow Bulma to the hanger. Everything was working fine on the balcony, but would the harness really stand up to the atmospheric pressure long enough for her to get to Bulma, convince her that she needed to be off her feet, and coax her back to the single G part of the palace?

There was the 'whoosh' of displaced air just slightly overhead. Goku and Gohan are back. I can send them to get Bulma. Relieved, she glanced up, ready to scold them both for their extra day's stay in the dangerous unknown wilderness that made up most of Vejiitasei.

The figure that slowly drifted down to greet her was disconcerting for a number of reasons.

The first was because it had solidified upside down. He knows I hate it when he does that. The bangs hung down, revealing the rarely-seen widow's peak hidden by the thick spikes that often-as-not fell into his eyes.

Those eyes...there was something very not-Goku about those eyes. And since when had he taken to wearing Saiyan-style armor? Chi-chi experienced the hard fear that two days away from her moderating influence had sent Goku totally native.

The real explanation didn't come until after she searched in vain for the second, smaller figure that should have accompanied him.

"You aren't supposed to be here," Chi-chi said with fervor.

The steady, dark gaze didn't falter. "Like the rest of the off-world troops, I'm stationed here," Bardock told her. "Even though I'm not on duty I have every right to be on the grounds." The head went to one side, stirring the dark spikes into odd patterns. He looked very alien as he hovered upside-down, nose inches away from hers. "I seem to be playing hopscotch with Kakarott and Gohan," he told her, bluntly. "I thought perhaps I would avoid that today by finding out where they were from you."

She knew the door was open behind her. She knew one shout would bring Guards (Palace, King's, Queen's; a horde) to the scene. Chi-chi stood her ground. "I brought my son to get him away from someone who wants him to be a fighter. I didn't bring him here so you could install some sort of warrior spirit in him."

Bardock's head cocked in the other direction, studying her like a bug under a magnifying glass. He stretched one hand down, tapping two fingers against her sternum, just below the junction of her collarbones. Startled, Chi-chi crossed her wrists over her chest, glaring. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You're wearing the harness," he noted, "good. Is it on?"

Chi-chi eyed him with deep suspicion. "None of your business!"

"Of course it is," he said to himself, clinically. "She couldn't be out here otherwise, could she." He smiled, a dangerous, unamused flex of his mouth. "Shall we give this thing a real test?"

"Wha—" was all Chi-chi could get out before she was airborne.

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"Vegeta." Zarbon's voice held weary acceptance. "I thought you didn't do this any more."

Vegeta flicked a glance towards his liaison, snorted, and resumed glaring at the closed door of Chishan's storage area. Sighing, Zarbon settled his shoulders against the wall of the building. Vegeta was several stories above ground level, well hidden under the roof's overhang, although he was, of course, never that invisible because of his ki. Shiruko's company was camped underneath the King's location, studiously ignoring Vegeta since he obviously didn't want to be found, yet making no attempt to pretend they were in the area for any other reason than to guard their monarch. Zarbon was the only one who ever dared approach the King when Vegeta tracked after Bulma.

"If you like," Zarbon continued in that tired tone, "I can instruct Chishan to cease working on his contraptions, or make sure he is otherwise occupied during daylight hours."

"I will not have my mate deprived of something she enjoys."

The caring words were uttered in a tone of complete disdain. Zarbon slid his eyes sideways, taking in Vegeta's countenance with a quick peek. The King's profile was etched, unusual lines of tension showing at the corner of his mouth and nose. "She's spending more time with Chishan than with you these days," Zarbon observed, neutrally.

There was a small, annoyed puff of exhaled air from Vegeta. "She thinks nothing of Chishan, it's those damned machines," he stated, flatly. "Besides, who's fault is it I'm not spending time with my mate? Not Chishan's."

"Vegeta, you have a number of official functions that I must schedule—"

Another snort. "I didn't mean you or my cursed duties, either," snapped Vegeta. "It's that...that damned thing she's hauling around with her. I can't stand it," Vegeta growled in a low tone, mostly to himself. "I can't stand that it's...permeated her so completely. The brat's so taken her over I can't even sleep in the same room with them anymore. I just want to rip the freeloading parasite out of my wife."

Zarbon said, coldly, "I trust you have not said anything like that to Bulma."

"Feh," grunted Vegeta. "She thinks it's because she's fat or something. Like I would care. She would still be Bulma if she were fat, Zarbon. This pregnancy thing, though; it's horrible. The brat controls her emotions, it keeps knocking her off balance with its gyrations, it's even changed the way she smells. She reeks of that thing. I can't take much more of this."

"You won't have to," Zarbon informed him, still with that curt note in his voice. "The Earth techs are sure the baby's close to being born, probably within the next few days."

"It will be sooner than that," said Vegeta flatly, but was unable to respond directly to Zarbon's query about how he knew that. The King hunched a shoulder and said, irritably, "I just felt like it would be soon when I walked into her room this morning. Something about the way the brat — it seemed impatient or something. I don't know, Zarbon," he tacked on petulantly, like a child.

"It must take after you," said Zarbon, less disapprovingly than before. This is out of his control, he realized, unconsciously echoing Chi-chi's own thoughts about Bulma when she was first told of her friend's pregnancy. That's his real problem. He can't issue any decree that will make the baby get here faster, or make Bulma more comfortable. "I'm surprised the child hasn't upset all the guards with its 'broadcasting.' You Saiyans get so jumpy around emotions."

Vegeta mumbled something unintelligible.

"I didn't catch that," said Zarbon.

"I said," Vegeta repeated in annoyance, "it's just me, it's not anyone else." He turned his face away, but not before Zarbon's sidelong glance caught the flush across the bridge of Vegeta's nose. "I'm open to the brat," Vegeta ground out, as if this was something to be very ashamed of. "The way I'm open to her. You understand?"

Zarbon didn't, quite. He felt the need for clarification. "You mean the bonding thing extends to Bulma's offspring, as well as to Bulma?"

"Evidently," was the cross response.

Zarbon felt his annoyance with Vegeta's crass attitude toward his child slip away. He loathed the strange hormonal reactions that tied Saiyans to one another, yet this appealed to his sense of symmetry. "I said this once before, and I know you don't want to hear it, but — Vegeta, that's wonderful."

"Hmph."

"With Bulma this close to giving birth," said Zarbon thoughtfully, "I can't imagine anything on your schedule is all that important. Or mine either, as far as that goes." He tapped out a series of commands on his scouter, while Vegeta continued to lounge against the wall and refuse to look at him. "That's that," Zarbon reported after several minutes. "We're free for the next twelve hours. Do you expect the new Heir to be making an appearance in that period of time?"

Vegeta hunched a shoulder. "Twelve hours, twelve days; I don't know," he said, irritably.

"We'll just have to see, then." Zarbon settled into a more comfortable position next to Vegeta. After a few moments he observed, casually, "I always liked this particular phase of the cloud shift."

"You like anything that matches your hair," retorted Vegeta.

Zarbon smiled slightly. Not at all, my King. Green is the color of life on my world. I always feel more at peace on Vejiitasei when the cloud cover turns green. He tucked his head down, entering into a light trance, while Vegeta continued his half-angry watch over the building that held his mate.

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The only reason Chi-chi stopped screaming was because she ran out of air.

The only reason she ran out of air was because Bardock, tired of listening to her, dropped the protective aura as he flew at speeds that blurred the distant ground into streaks of color, robbing her of the ability to breathe.

When he snapped the aura back, she was too busy gasping to refill her lungs to scream. Then she went straight from terrified to furious, and a different sort of screaming erupted. Chi-chi's oaths and demands to be put down were muffled against the armor covering Bardock's midriff. He had her in an extremely awkward position, her legs flailing against his shoulders, her arms trapped by his iron grip around her biceps, and her face stuffed against his waist. Bardock did not appear interested in adjusting his grasp enough to let her get comfortable or at least turn her so that she was facing into the wind instead of staring at his tail with her legs uncomfortably buffeted. Chi-chi had the near hysterical thought that she hoped no one had snapped any pictures of her like this. What Goku might think if he saw her sprawled against his father in this compromising position—!

Tails are weak spots, a stray synapse reminded her.

Without hesitation, Chi-chi lifted her chin and sank her teeth into her father-in-law's tail.

There was a piercing, short scream pitched disturbingly like something that could have been wrenched from Goku. The grip against her upper arms slackened. Chi-chi drove her knees against his shoulders, threw back her head and butted him just below the ridge of armor at his waist, getting the tail again as well as landing a solid hit in the groin. A final twist, and Chi-chi was in free-fall.

Chi-chi did not have high expectations of being able to get away from a determined Saiyan. Her actions were not, however, as suicidal as they appeared. The daughter of the Ox King had inherited some of his greater-than-human strength; Chi-chi knew there was a good likelihood that she could survive a fall that would kill a normal human, even, if she could angle for some trees or other cover that would slow her descent before hitting the ground, that she could survive it in good enough shape to put up a fight once she was planet-side. In the sky, without the ability to fly, she had no chance.

She did not expect the great expanse of water that confronted her.

Chi-chi grimaced in fear and irritation. Water was a bad thing; from this height; it would be like hitting concrete. There was no way she could rebound against it, as she hoped to do against solid ground. Belly-flopping was certain death. She began to quickly run calculations she learned from helping Gohan with his homework through her head, trying to decide if going in feet first or head first would be easiest on her body, fearing that any attempted entry angle would snap bones. Better to break legs than necks, she decided fatalistically. Chi-chi tucked in her knees to make maneuvering easier, then locked her arms by her sides and kicked her legs straight, heading for the distant, still ocean like an arrow.

Something seized the nape of her neck. She continued to drop, but there was now an opposing force, slowing her descent. Cursing, Chi-chi lashed out, but Bardock was staying well out of reach. Two yards above the ocean, she was brought to a gentle stop, Then everything tilted wildly as Bardock released her, spun her in mid-air, and grabbed her by the throat. Chi-chi brought her hands around his hard forearm, clawing ineffectively at the cloth of his short arm sheaths, wishing she had sharp enough nails to pierce flesh and make him yelp once more.

"You do anything like that again, you pathetic weak bitch, and I'll snap your scrawny neck," bit out Bardock between clenched teeth.

"You even try that and Goku will incinerate you!" Chi-chi gritted through an equally-unmobile jaw. "You'll be lucky he doesn't rip you to shreds for this!"

Bizarrely, the tension drained out of Bardock. He chuckled, a rueful curve against his mouth. "I live in hope," he said with a mockery she didn't understand. He adjusted his grip, manhandling her with an efficient ease that was terrifying, slinging her across his elbows. "Hold on," he instructed her.

Chi-chi folded her arms and turned her head away, scowling.

Bardock sighed. "One. Believe it or not, I am interested in forging a relationship with my son. Obviously harming you would not accomplish that. Two. My mate is, after the King, the strongest warrior on the planet. I would die a slow, agonizing death if I looked at another woman, let alone actually assaulted one. Being killed by her," he added, cryptically, "would serve no purpose."

"Kidnapping me serves a purpose?"

"I want to see my son," said Bardock directly. "He will come after you." The cold Saiyan half-smirk twisted his mouth up at one corner. "You are not without fighting skill," he commented as the aura charged up around him. "Just without ki, eh?"

The ocean blurred into indistinct colors again as Bardock picked up speed and started to climb. The force of the wind brought her up against his chest; she leaned against him while trying to maintain the illusion of keeping her distance. "Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

"Home," he replied. "The Eastern Continent. I'm heading for the jet stream; if we hook up with it, it'll push us there at twice the speed I could obtain on my own. That will also leave me plenty of energy for any more petty struggles you feel like putting up."

"Hmph."

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They had planned on a leisurely journey for the trip back, but they hardly had crossed the King's Forest heading for the Central Continent when a strange urgency gripped Goku. At almost the same moment Gohan said, uncertainly, "Daddy..."

Something's wrong, they both thought, but neither was sure enough to say anything out loud. "Maybe it's the baby," suggested Gohan.

Chi-chi, thought Goku, but as always the prevalence of Saiyan kis prevented him from sensing her far-less-powerful life force. All he could really determine was that the capitol was not where he needed to be. "Gohan," he said, "you get to Bulma. Stay with her. I have to go—" He cut himself off, hovering, beginning to turn in different directions as he tried to lock on to that faint sense of he-didn't-know-what guiding him he-didn't-know-where. "There," he finally said, swinging an arm to the north-east. "I have to go there."

Gohan didn't argue. Charging up, he streaked for the isthmus that separated the Southern Continent from the Central Continent.

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Vejiitasei's jet stream was cold as well as fast. Chi-chi shivered uncontrollably as it flung them half-way across the planet, crowding closer and closer to Bardock's body heat. Time zones sped by, but Chi-chi could not be sure of what amount of time had actually passed. A couple of hours, she thought as she clenched her jaw against chattering teeth. With the jet stream's aid, they were traveling at near-shuttle speeds.

They pushed into the dark side of the planet. Casting her eyes down, Chi-chi began to discern hints of lights, twinkling by as they flew overhead. There was one large, well-lit span that must have been a major city. Seconds after it flashed by, Bardock dropped out of super-sonic speeds with a popping sound. The dark expanse they hovered over was as featureless as any ocean at first. As they came closer to the ground a dim glow could be seen, barely outlining a stark, square dwelling set by itself. A door opened as they touched down, but the large figure standing in it did not allow much more light into the pitch blackness.

"Apparently it's true what they say, that the eyesight is the first to go," remarked Riiki's distinctive voice, coming from the shadowed figure. "Bardock, that is not Kakarott."

"Be nice to our daughter-in-law," admonished Bardock.

The shadows on the face shifted; there was the gleam of bared teeth. "If she gets her hands off you in the next three seconds, I'll consider it."

Chi-chi carefully pried her frozen fingers away from the shoulder straps of Bardock's armor, not sure exactly when she had grabbed on to them in the first place. She folded her hands in front of her body, still fighting shivers as she strove to keep her husband's name foremost in her mind.

"Eh, come in and thaw out," snapped Riiki, pivoting back into the dwelling.

Goku, Chi-chi thought again, not immediately moving. Next to her, Bardock swept out his arm, indicating the open doorway. Grimly, Chi-chi stepped into the building.

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When you said you had a surprise for me, this is not what I thought you meant, Riiki berated her mate.

Leaning in the doorway of their bedchamber, Bardock half-shrugged. "If you knew what I meant, it wouldn't have been such a surprise," he said out loud.

Shut up. Riiki finished tugging the cover off of the bed. I don't know how the fragile creatures survive — if they aren't being crushed by simple gravity, they're freezing to death. Feh. Balling the cover up in her strong hands, Riiki brushed past her husband, stalking back into the main living quarters where the blue-lipped Earth woman stood passively, shivering, her eyes blank and distant. "Here," she snarled, holding the cloth out, bunched together in one fist. The Earth woman did not appear to notice her. Muttering, Riiki shook the cover out and flung it around the shoulders of the much-smaller woman. One of the blue-tinged hands came up, gathering the ends of the cloth around the slender throat. For the first time, the dark eyes looked up at her, blinked, and seemed to finally see her.

"Thank you," said Chi-chi, not sounding all that grateful. There was a long silence. Riiki folded her arms, scowling down at the pathetic thing that Kakarott had the poor judgement to breed with. Behind her, Bardock watched with that dissecting expression stamped on his features, waiting to see what actions his experiment would spawn next. At last:

"To tell the truth, I'm really, really angry," said Chi-chi in a calm voice. "I do some of my best cooking when I'm really, really angry. It would be a shame not to take advantage of that. Show me to the kitchen."

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She was going to have to thank Zarbon for his endless patience indulging the whims of Bulma's guests, decided Chi-chi. After that day on the Southern Continent when she had asked to tour the Palace kitchens, he gave her free range of the all the kitchens in the Royal residences. The alien chefs, fascinated by the idea of someone they considered upper class displaying an interest in their craft, had showed her how to work the various styles of baking equipment, had shared recipes and techniques. Vegeta never noticed when things like fisherman's pie and sweet custard starting showing up on the Royal menu; likewise, Goku and Gohan would probably not notice some of the decidedly exotic fare she now planned to add to the menu of her little family once they returned to Earth.

They were going to return to Earth, she reminded herself. She was in no danger. Bardock and Riiki just wanted to see their son and grandson. Perhaps she had been a little too strict regarding contact with them. In the two hours since her arrival, her host and hostess had offered no violence, in spite of one awkward moment when she caught Bardock tasting the soup behind her back and chased him out of the kitchen, waving the Saiyan version of a ladle as she threatened him with slow death by starvation if he didn't stay away from everything until it was ready. Laughing, he retreated with a good grace.

It was weirdly similar to scenes she had played out many, many times with Goku.

Goku, she thought for a minute, but without the urgency or fright that colored her earlier calls. Cooking calmed her. The obvious interest of the Saiyans in what she was preparing (apparently cooking was not a strong suit of either warrior) calmed her. The fingers of the green-tinged dawn that she could see outside the narrow window calmed her. How much time had passed, how many time zones away from the capitol was she? It didn't matter. After feeding her in-laws, she would ask to make the equivalent of a phone call and tell Bulma where she was. Assuming Goku wasn't even now racing toward her location, he would soon know where to get her. Everything was under control, she assured herself as she gave the soup a final stir and pulled several meat pies out of the huge ceramic oven.

She had not considered her gravity harness in hours. She did not remember it now.

Bardock poked his head through the entryway again, brows raised, looking eager. For the first time, Chi-chi was able to gaze at him without flinching over the similarities and horrible differences with her husband. "It's ready," she said to him, as sternly as she would have spoken to Goku or Gohan. "If you carry the soup out and place it carefully on the table without spilling any, I might consider letting you have some."

The Saiyan smirk took on a rakish slant that Goku would have never pulled off. Oh, you must have been a hit with the girls before you got married, thought Chi-chi unguardedly. "I think I can manage that," he told her with the barest edge of sarcasm.

Riiki was sitting at the set table, elbows on either side of the plate, chin resting on her laced fingers. "Smells good, eh?" Bardock prompted her as he put the huge canister on the center of the table.

Riiki inhaled, snorted, shrugged. Used to the brusque Saiyan social graces by now, Chi-chi did not take her lack of interest personally. The real measure of the meal's success would be how little of it was left over at the end. At least they use utensils. I'm still having trouble getting Goku to do that.

"Your mate," said Riiki maliciously as she dipped out a generous portion of the soup, "is tardy with his rescue."

"He'll be here," said Chi-chi placidly. She watched as the Saiyans regarded the meat pies with various degrees of suspicion and interest; pastries had not existed on the planet before Chi-chi gave a few recipes to the Palace chefs. Clearly the Earth delicacies hadn't made it to — where-ever she was at the moment. The Saiyan equivalent of the suburbs? Mouth quirking slightly, Chi-chi cut into hers with the broad, tined utensil that resembled a fork. Bardock promptly mimicked her; Riiki pointedly slurped at her soup.

"It's tolerable," he assured his mate after chewing and swallowing. Goku would have had no hesitation talking with his mouth full, thought Chi-chi. Maybe some of his father's good manners would rub off on her rough-and-ready husband. They had planned to leave a couple of weeks after the baby was born; they probably had a good month left on Vejiitasei. There was still time to come to terms with Goku's Saiyan family.

"Oh, you should get the list of ingredients, then," responded Riiki, still ignoring her pie in favor of the soup. "One more thing for you to do with your spare time."

Bardock grinned. "Eh, I'm looking at a long, tedious life, Riiki. We both are. Might as well have a hobby or two to fill it up."

Riiki snorted again, and looked at Chi-chi as if expecting support from the other woman at the table. Chi-chi said, uncertainly, "Hobbies are good, as long as they aren't excessive, I suppose."

"Ha!" said Riiki to her husband. "The Earther agrees with me. You spend too much time contemplating history and matter and metaphysical stuff."

Bardock shrugged good-naturedly. "It's not like I have anything better to do between missions, is it? Since you're so strong no one dares to challenge me, I don't even need to prepare for matches. Our sons, even our grandson, are all far too powerful to be interested in a mere Squad, so unless we run into something nasty on one of our missions, old age is the only death I have to look forward to."

"Oh, you may even make Minister before all is over," said Riiki, sarcastically.

"No need to be completely insulting," replied Bardock, mildly. "Besides, you're older than I am. If it's a contest to see which of us lives long enough to get saddled with an official post, you'll get the call before I do."

There's something important here, thought Chi-chi unexpectedly. Death, Goku, Bardock's squad; there's something important here. She put the fork down, carefully, balancing it across the top of the plate the way the Saiyans at the palace did. "I don't envision a military career for Gohan," she said to her father-in-law, "but children have a way of surprising the most diligent parents. If he decided he wanted to join the Saiyan military, why do you think he wouldn't be interested in leading your squad? Is it a hereditary position?"

Bardock shrugged. "Not necessarily. I was appointed and a squad created for me. But if one of my offspring decided he wanted to be a squad leader, the logical first step would be to apprentice himself to my squad. When the time was right, he would challenge me for leadership. Radditz started down that path before deciding his ki warranted an on-world career," he added, a faint note of scorn in his voice.

"Challenge how?" persisted Chi-chi.

"Fight, baka," said Riiki in contemptuous amusement. She finally picked up her fork, poking suspiciously at the pastry top of the meat pie. "What do you think he meant?"

"Fighting is not how we usually determine positions of authority on Earth."

Riiki snorted. "I suppose not. By all reports it's a planet composed of sentimental weaklings. How Kakarott managed to get so strong — Feh, not that it does him any good. He's so passive he's practically your pet, isn't he? Radditz is right, there's nothing Saiyan about him or the hybrid apart from their looks. Small wonder they are content on your pastoral little world."

Food forgotten, Chi-chi folded her hands in her lap. If either of her in-laws knew her better, they would have recognized the sparkle in her black eyes as the first warning signs of intense anger. "Tell me more," she said, "about these challenges."