Chapter 15

The dual questions of where is she? and why am I doing this? tore at him. I knew there would be problems if anyone got lost. Teeth unconsciously worrying his lower lip, Vegeta said I could go anywhere, Goku reminded himself. This is where Radditz is from so it's got to be okay for me to be here, right? Then, again, where is she?

But there were too many kis and, to his shame, he could not immediately single Chi-chi's out. If Chi-chi was what drew him to this place. Goku scowled down at the city spread under his feet in the just-expanding rays of the early morning suns. He raced here recklessly, ignoring Zarbon's lectures on speed limits and the fact that he didn't want the Saiyans to track him. Now that he was here, though, he couldn't hone in on anything in particular. Surely if Chi-chi were in trouble he would lock onto her distress like a beacon? He could always feel it when his wife was in pain, he'd felt it when Garlic's henchmen hurt her during that strange incident that gave the first inkling of Gohan's power (was that really only two years ago?), so his inability to pinpoint her location was a good sign. Wasn't it?

Then a trace of power impinged on the edge of his consciousness. Slowly, Goku turned in mid-air to face east, his face composed. Someone was approaching from that direction. Someone strong by Saiyan standards. One of those Elites trying to make a name for themselves?

The advancing shape was encased in a bright green energy glow, the color either from the owner's natural ki or a subtle influence of the emerald-streaked atmosphere Vejiitasei now sported. Fully charged, the figure sped straight for him, pulling to an abrupt stop inches away. Goku found himself nose-to-nose with a slim woman whose narrow features registered some hastily-banked emotion (shock? recognition?) when she first saw him. She pushed one hand through her short, dark spikes as slitted eyes regarded him critically. After the brief, intense scrutiny she nodded once and folded her arms across the green-inlaid black chest plate she wore. The battle aura winked out.

"The prodigal son returns," the woman remarked, her voice cold and amused. "The wrong son, unfortunately, but I suppose one can't have everything. I had a report," she said to him directly, "that something traveling at Elite-level speeds, but without Elite-level ki, was heading this way. I was prepared to intercept it before it did any damage to my prefecture. From what I've heard from the capitol, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised it's you. It is Kakarott, no?" Irony coated her words, but the sarcasm appeared to be inwardly directed. "It has taken you long enough to report to your daimyo, Kakarott. What are you here for?"

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Bulma tapped away at the laptop, scowling at figures that stubbornly insisted that what she wanted to do was impossible with the current design. She glanced up briefly, confronted by a view of a well-shaped male backside and a gently waving tail. Chishan was buried in the machine's innards again, working on Bulma's theory that all the tubing within the little craft might indicate it had been hydro-powered. Grinning briefly, she looked back to the schematics for the gravity chamber.

Her computer was set up so that she could observe Chishan's progress (and whatever else he occasionally presented her with) on the Tsufurun craft. The desk was one of a number of new additions to the formerly-stark storage area. Over the last couple of weeks, the hanger had been modified to allow for the Queen's physical comfort. As it happened, Bulma's engineers were as protective of her in their own way as her guards, and they shared a few of Chi-chi's concerns about the gravity harness. They worked straight through for several days to install gravity compensating machines in the hanger, despite Bulma's half-exasperated protests that they were all being far too protective.

Bulma glanced up again, meeting the dark-eyed gaze of Radditz. Talk about over-protective... Her Captain now personally escorted her to and from Chishan's storage area. Zarbon told her (using the stern tone he usually reserved for Vegeta) that she had to deal through Radditz or risk undermining his authority. Reluctantly, she agreed, but insisted she didn't want to hear one more word from him on the subject of her pregnancy — especially since everything he said was an eerie, more-roughly-worded echo of her mother's concerns. He settled for hovering over her protectively, a dark scowl in place, close enough to his usual behavior for her to be able to tune him completely out. And there was one other advantage. Radditz was the only Saiyan guard who dared touch her, which meant that he would help her up. The other guards watched her struggles to get out of chairs with keen respect.

She had buried herself in here recently. It was not really due to self-consciousness about her girth (although she wasn't vain, exactly, not the way Zarbon was, but, dammit, she was considered attractive on Earth and this new body of hers was just too much sometimes) or her occasional awkwardness. The Saiyans surrounding her were indifferent to her altered appearance. From her early days on Vejiitasei she had been impressed with the complete lack of physical vanity the Saiyans as a whole possessed, from Chishan's scarred face to Bardock's indifference about being a head shorter than his wife. That indifference apparently extended to the visible alterations in her body; none of the Saiyans she had daily contact with exhibited any indication of distaste for her newly rotund form.

Except for Vegeta.

He was the one Saiyan who appeared repulsed by her recent resemblance to a pear. And it had been, she thought crossly, so sudden. He went from laying in their huge bed close enough to slip his tail around her leg as they slept to, without warning, crowding the furthest edge away from her, so far she thought he might teeter over the edge and land on the floor. She couldn't get a very good answer when she asked (well, demanded) to know what his problem was. The best he could come up with was that the baby was disturbing him. Crossly, Bulma tugged and pushed herself out of bed and testily suggested that, if he was so disturbed, perhaps she should sleep in the Queen's quarters until the baby was born.

She expected him to protest.

He didn't.

Nor was he there at any of the various times she woke up in the night, as he had been on those few occasions early in their marriage when she chose to sleep apart from him.

Feeling thoroughly miffed even though sleeping in the other room had been her suggestion, Bulma stalked (as best as she could in her current condition) toward the King's chambers to confront Vegeta first thing the following morning.

It was a weird scene. Whenever she got within a couple of feet of him, Vegeta pulled a face and skittered away, finally all but running out of the room to escape her. Bulma was reminded of her early days on Vejiitasei, when the uncertainty about how to act around her resulted in everyone but Vegeta giving her a wide berth. Now, she was constantly surrounded by guards who were, on some level, becoming close companions, and Vegeta was the one keeping his distance.

Well, it didn't much matter. The baby would be here within the next few weeks, and she would shortly have her figure back. Winning back her husband's attention shouldn't be too difficult, Bulma assured herself, sniffling slightly. She turned her gaze back to the design for the gravity chamber.

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Shiruko stepped up to the tank, glancing without much interest at what was in it before turning his gaze to his younger brother. "I heard you were in the capitol, Youkan. What are you doing here?"

"Just saying goodbye to our new baby sister," said Youkan, grinning at him. "They've finally stopped having a temper-tantrum over Kimchee's transfer out of the Domestic forces and are letting her go as well. We're here for the pre-mission briefings."

"What a waste of Elites," said Shiruko in disgust.

Youkan shrugged. "Well, she's not tall enough for the Royal Guard and she can't go much further in the Domestic Guard, so it's not as if Kimchee has any compelling reasons to stay on Vejiitasei," he pointed out. "Frankly, I think all the snafus were a ploy to keep me on-planet despite the King's command, but Nappa's finally handed over the orders. He wasn't happy about it, but he didn't want to deal with Kim when she was in a temper. Besides, she reminded him that Commanders have to go off world once in a while and it would be good training for her. While everyone else on the planet is betting on Chishan to be the next Commander, Kimchee and Nappa pretty much agree it's going to be her. Or at least they did..." he added on a mutter, his voice trailing off.

Nappa knows she can't be the Commander-in-chief now, thought Shiruko. He must be hoping she'll come to her senses during her time off-world. Or that you don't survive and it all becomes moot anyway... He glanced casually at the Saiyan characters below the tank, sounding them out. "Zenza, is it?"

Youkan pulled a face. "Try saying that ten times fast. Why another Southern name, d'you suppose? You'd think Mother would be more interested in having her tribe represented among her offspring."

"Oh, I suspect it's a direct message to me to hurry up and kill Father before this one gets strong enough to do it," drawled Shiruko. "And a not-so-direct-one to you that Mother has her heir and so does not need any more offspring with Eastern names."

"Eh, that will all work itself out." Youkan raised a hand to his scouter, brows lifting at the measurable reading. "When was there last a female Chieftain for the Southern tribes?"

"Does it matter?" queried Shiruko, his tone uninterested. "It's a powerful position. It should go to the strongest of us. That wouldn't be you," he added, sarcastically.

Youkan grinned at the jab. "They have managed to spawn another powerhouse," he noted. "This one's radiating ki even though it looks more like a fish than a Saiyan. There's something in the combination, that's for sure. We're all stronger than we should be."

You have no idea, Shiruko thought.

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Nira had a clear head on her shoulders. Goku explained that he thought his wife might be in the area but he wasn't sure where to start looking. With a snort, Nira tapped on her scouter and spoke a few crisp words. "She's with your father," she told him, curtly. "I suppose since the morning's shot now anyway, I might as well play tour director and take you there." She did not wait for any reply of his, simply charged up, made a wide, looping turn, and raced off in the opposite direction. She wasn't someone who consulted others before taking action, decided Goku as he caught up with her.

His parents had not crossed his mind, although once Nira mentioned Bardock he realized that one of the overpowering kis he had been trying to block out during the search for Chi-chi belonged to Riiki. His mother was not that far off. He couldn't imagine what Chi-chi was doing there, what they could be talking about. Chi-chi had been so adamant about keeping Gohan away from them; had she changed her mind? Or did she decide the warning should be delivered in person? Goku winced as he flew behind Nira, not sure who he should be worried about in the latter case.

His parents lived well out of the city, by themselves in a densely-forested area that was not unlike where Goku lived on Earth. As soon as the little square building came into sight, Goku's ki-enhanced eyes telescoped in on the three figures standing just outside the front door. Nira changed altitude, rearing backed to land softly on her feet in front of the trio, crossing her arms and regarding them coolly. Bardock went down so fast Goku wondered if the other warrior had fainted. After one considering glance at her kneeling father-in-law, Chi-chi presented Nira with a respectful bow.

Riiki stood behind the two with crossed arms, glowering.

"Get up," said Nira in irritation. "There's no one here but us, baka."

Had he been interested in anything other than Chi-chi's safety, Goku might have been curious about the bizarre gyrations of the auras of the three Saiyans. He ignored his parents and Nira utterly. Rushing forward, Goku grabbed Chi-chi by the shoulders. "Are you all right?!"

"I'm fine," said Chi-chi, calmly. "I've had a perfectly lovely time with my in-laws, Goku."

He felt his heart (and several other visceral organs) that lodged in his throat while he searched for her slowly resettle. She did sound fine. But she didn't look fine. Someone is in big-league trouble, he realized, ducking his head and peeking at her through his thick bangs apologetically just in case it was him.

"I think, though," Chi-chi continued, "that it's time for me to be getting back to Bulma." She regarded him critically. "You look like you haven't been sleeping enough. I hope you haven't been letting Gohan stay up all hours."

Goku shook his head slightly, still keeping his chin down as he tried to project contriteness.

"You up to flying me back to the capitol?"

Goku nodded, but "Oh, I suppose the least I can do for the Queen's honored guests is offer my shuttle," said Nira, coldly.

"Would a shuttle be faster?" demanded Chi-chi of her in-laws.

Bardock replied, "Yes." There was a defeated tone in the single word. Goku didn't care and barely glanced at him. "You should get there about sundown for that part of the world. Most likely no one's even noticed you've been missing all day," Bardock tacked on with faint, albeit automatic, malice.

"Then let's use the shuttle. I want to get to Bulma as soon as possible." Chi-chi gazed at her in-laws, her expression stony. "We're going home soon. It's open ended, but we will be leaving a couple of weeks after Bulma's baby is born," she informed them. "That's as much time as you have to spend with Goku and Gohan."

Bardock visibly brightened, but Riiki astutely demanded, "What's the catch?"

"This," said Chi-chi, frostily. "You never tell either of them what we discussed over the last hour. If you do, I will instruct my family that they may not see either of you. They will obey me."

The two Saiyan warriors gazed at each with open puzzlement. Riiki raised one indifferent shoulder; Bardock nodded agreement.

Stepping up to Goku, Chi-chi slid one arm across his shoulders, a signal that his wife was ready go. Goku picked her up, then had to once again race to catch up to Nira, who did not wait for good-byes but simply took off.

Watching the fading ki trails, Riiki remarked without much inflection, "Insipid weakling."

"I like her," Bardock protested.

"Hmph," was Riiki's reply. She tipped a sardonic glance down at her husband. "I have been very patiently awaiting an explanation for that bite-mark on your tail."

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During the brief flight back toward the city Goku tried to tell Chi-chi how much he had been worried about her, but her face was still set in those subtle, firm lines that meant she was very angry about something and his words trailed off. Right before they followed Nira down to the broad, paved area that was the shuttle port for the Eastern Continent, Chi-chi gripped the shoulder of his gi. Goku pulled up, gazing at her with concern.

"Goku. You'd never...hurt Gohan, right?"

What a strange question. Goku answered honestly, "Well, sometimes when you're sparring someone gets hurt, Chi-chi. You know that."

"That's not I meant."

"No," said Goku after a searching look into her face. "I would never, never hurt Gohan."

"I knew that," admitted Chi-chi. She leaned her head against his broad chest. "I just needed to hear you say it."

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This stupid thing is impossible, Bulma mentally groused as she scowled at the specs for the proposed gravity chamber. It'll never work under these conditions; it'll get up to about 20 G and just implode. Grr. Sighing, she shut down the computer. It was time to take a break, maybe consult her father on the problem. She glanced over at the Tsufurun craft. Chishan was carefully laying the tubing out next to it, arranging it by size, as Gohan stood nearby holding some tools for him.

Gohan had burst in a while ago, a little out of breath, stared at her piercingly, then responded to Chishan's acerbic query if he was there to help with a patently false, "Um, sure. Okay." He busied himself with the craft, but every time Bulma glanced up from her computer his dark eyes were on her with stark concern.

Like now.

"Is there a problem, Gohan?" Bulma asked, more sharply than she needed to.

Gohan reacted as if burned. "Uh, no. Uh, of course not. Uh—"

The hanger doors slid open. All the guards tensed, snapping to alert stances, but—

"MOM!" shouted Gohan in relief. He dropped the tools, which bounced and clattered everywhere, and raced to give Chi-chi a dangerously-tight-looking hug.

Chi-chi went down on her knees, hugging him back, but her gaze was set on Bulma. Standing, she put herself between Gohan and the Saiyans. "Everyone out," she snapped.

It was a tribute to the forcefulness of her personality that several of Bulma's Elites took an automatic half-step before recollecting themselves and looking to Bulma for confirmation.

"Chi-chi, it's a big place. If you want some girl talk, we can go sit in the corner and chat."

"No. Saiyans hear more than they let on. I don't want anyone else hearing this."

After one exasperated stare, Bulma held her arms out to the side, a gesture Radditz understood by now to be a request to be hauled up. Hooking his fingers into her armpits, he set her on her feet. "Fine," Bulma said to Chi-chi, "we'll head back to my quarters. Private enough for you?"

Chi-chi did not reply, instead pivoting and heading for the exit, sternly telling her son to go to his father immediately. Gohan took her literally, vanishing in a twinkling of ki energy. Outside Bulma blinked for a moment, startled to find that the pitch-black Vejiitasein night had fallen. What time is it? Glancing at the monitoring device on her wrist, she was startled to discover she had been in the hanger for nearly 15 hours without a break. The realization was enough to make her suddenly hungry, thirsty, and, most of all, tired. "It's late, Chi-chi. Can this wait until morning?"

"No," snapped Chi-chi.

Chi-chi looked very, very grim. Which was not that unusual, really; Chi-chi had a serious outlook on life, and often acted as if it were to be endured, not enjoyed. Fortunately, thought Bulma as she waddled into her private quarters, she herself had the unique ability to tune people out even while appearing to pay attention. She had every intention of utilizing that ability as she asked, "What's up?"

"Do you know what happened to the last King?" demanded Chi-chi.

This, decided Bulma, was going to be easy to tune out. "He died, Chi-chi. That's why Vegeta is King now."

"Vegeta," said Chi-chi with a terrible intensity, "killed him. Did you know that?"

Abruptly Bulma was neither tired nor hungry nor uninterested. Slowly, she eased her bulky body down, staring blankly. "Killed...? As in, euthanasia?"

"As in, battle to the death," said Chi-chi. "It's how they do things here. That nice young Chishan who's always playing with Gohan? Rumor has it he's going to be the next Commander in Chief, since he's the only one of Nappa's 'offspring' that has a shot at surviving a conflict with him. Not a very good shot, mind you; but, a shot. Do you know what Bardock's greatest hope was in finding Goku alive? That he might want to assume control of his military squad. He was even hopeful that Gohan would be interested. Gohan would have to kill his grandfather first, of course, but Bardock is getting close to one hundred, and apparently Saiyans consider that the cut-off point for usefulness as a warrior. He's ready to be killed by someone. So is Riiki. Remember that weird fight she had with Goku? She was trying to get killed, hoping that Goku could get some sort of height waiver and be allowed into the Guard. And Bardock was willing to step aside and let it happen."

Goku's wild-looking mother, her resemblance to Radditz emphasized by the faint expression of scorn on her face — "There have been quite a few guards disposed of in recent years. I likely would not have survived the purges."

"I don't believe you," said Bulma automatically, but her hands crossed protectively over her baby, her expression more alarmed than dubious.

"We might have to get you out of here fast," insisted Chi-chi, but there was an uncertain trace in the words as she gazed at Bulma's hands atop the protruding stomach.

Radditz standing at the foot of the bed, looking big and cross and dangerous — "Perhaps you should consider Chikyuu. What does Vegeta care about that mudball with you gone?"

I can't leave now, thought Bulma, unaware until she saw the twist of fear across Chi-chi's face that she spoke out loud. Chi-chi was thinking of the baby, but foremost in Bulma's mind were the millions on her home planet who, all unknowing, depended upon her to keep the Saiyans from them. "Are you sure about this? The way Saiyans talk, sometimes; it's hard to know what they really mean."

"You want confirmation?" snapped Chi-chi. "Then ask him. Ask Vegeta."