Disclaimer: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife." Well, I don’t know about that, but I know that it is a universal truth that I don’t own DBZ or that quote; they are the property of Akira Toriyama and Jane Austen respectively.

Note: This chapter contains no sex, swearing, or violence. Just kidding, it wouldn’t be a chapter in this story if it didn’t contain all of those important elements. If you are uncomfortable with these subjects, turn away now or forever hold your peace. Special thanks to NansJns for her suggestions that helped with the writing of this chapter.

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"Sir, sir! Look what we found on the road, full armour and everything. Overconfident bastard that man is."

"Excellent, get him to the interrogation tent; he can’t be part of a convoy, must be a messenger."

~~~~~

The smoky odour of pitch filled the man's nostril, gently awakening him before the mind numbing well of pain hit him, ripping away at his consciousness. Nearly doubling over in agony, the pull of the ropes that bound his wrists and ankles kept him upright as he thrashed to escape the pain. The rope bit and sliced through his raw skin and he cried out in pain, his mind becoming foggy and he started to fall into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness. It was not meant to be as total awareness shot back through him as a whip was snapped across his back, drawing blood. The memories of the last few hours bobbed through his mind as he screamed his pain from a throat raw and lips cracked with his own blood.

"Ready to tell us what you were doing along this route, lap dog of a murderer." The restrained man gasped and wheezed, the abject state of agony his body was now in forcing the air from his lungs. He tried to open his eyes, his vision blurred and uneven in the darkened place. The light caress of a cool wind brushed against his bare, bruised back; his screams must have brought others, more to watch and participate in his torment. He licked his dry lips, trying to find some comfort in his painful state, only to bite the appendage in a gritted scream as his tormentors drove a chunk of hot coal against the pad of his foot.

"Answer us, you fucking maggot, what message to do you bring from Enleo? Did that pompous bastard think we would not recognise the gold and black emblem, that we wouldn't know what he was doing, or maybe you were the one who choose to dress like a walking banner, armour and all. Whether it was his or yours, it was a stupid move that will cost you dearly."

"I have made a swore oath to my Overlord. Since the first moment of service to him, I have been his loyal and faithful page, soldier, whatever he commands. It doesn't matter what you do to me; you're all dead anyway. You think that little Amazonian bitch can hold off the Overlord, even with that blue haired slut helping her."

Light murmurs of conservation passed between the audience of the room only to be hushed by a single harsh grunt. Hearing the light crunch of dirt against boot heel, a sense of fear matched only when he was summoned before his master washed over the helpless man. He tried to swallow his absence saliva, the movements of his throat only added to his suffering and the utter hopelessness of his situation began to dawn on him. He had, in his own stupidity worn his armour, assuming that the Master's colours would be enough of a warning to anyone that he was not a man to be taken lightly, ironically that had been a warrior not even old enough to shave who had captured him. Now, he was stung up by his wrists and ankles, had been a screaming puppet, whipped, beaten, burned, his bones broken and finger nails removed and still he had not uttered a sound against his Master, had not betrayed his trust. Holding that one truth paramount in his mind, Eiki prayed for the end of his suffering.

"Dio, is he ready?" the strangely calming voice of the rebellion's leader piercing through his consciousness. Another set of footsteps approached him, lighter in sound than the heavy thud of the enemy general's boot. A slight, slender figure appeared before his eyes, a lovely black haired dark skinned woman, a vision to his eyes after his hours of torment. His mind glazed over as she stared up at him, the fact that she had three eyes merely afterthought to his suddenly tired mind.

"Yes, the physical torture went very far but to continue it further would be cruel and serve no purpose. In truth, it would make us no better than the animal we are fighting." The dark, sensual, accented voice lilted in the suffocating space, calming Eiki in a way he would not have thought possible, especially considering his current situation.

"We are all animals, My Lady." Eiki said, displaying his respect to the woman. "We are all animals in the end, the only thing that set one pack apart from the other is victory or defeat. You fool yourselves if you think I would ever tell you anything; your death warrants were signed long ago when you rebelled against him. Take my life, if you have the guts, I am but one drop in the bucket of resources that he has at his disposal."

"Insolent fool, you think that we are it; you underestimate our power, the power of hate, the power of vengeance. We are but a drop in the ocean, for every soul that falls a hundred rallies to our side, fights for the loss a loved one, or family. Your hell spawned Master will eventually be crushed, whether under us or by the heel of our Mistress, or by our children or the children after them. Our cause is righteous and by that fact alone we will win. And you, signed your death warrant the moment you took the oath of allegiance to the Scourge of the Fates." The first man yelled out, taking the boy's baited words like a rat in a trap.

"At least I will have the pleasure of watching you all die when from the pits of Hell!"

"Would that be an escape for you?" the soft voice of the dark skinned woman asked, her tone full of quiet confidence as if she knew the answer before the words left her mouth. Speechless at the first question he had heard directed at himself personally, he held back the honesty he felt at that question; biting back with cynicism and malice to mask himself.

"An escape? What, from here, from you and your pathetic tortures? I've been present to the horrors of Dolore, watched men, women, children ripped apart. I've been branded with the seal of Enleo; if you really believe that I will tell you anything, …, AHHHHH!!!" The man's tirade ended with a scream of agony as a hot iron poker was forced through the flesh of his shoulder and quickly pulled out again.

"Stop! He will receive no more pain at our hands." That strong voice rang out, taking on the aura of authority to calm his angered troops. Every word the messenger spat out only infuriated his men more, poking at old wounds not yet healed from this cowardly man's overlord. Anger and vengeance would make his men weak and blind, and though he had vowed his existence to the death of Enleo, he would not risk others. Turning to Diocesi, he looked into her two normal eyes, the third one always centred on their prisoner. She gave him a brief smile and he nodded to her to begin her own interrogation, her method succeeding where his methods had failed.

"Yes," the girl said finally to the young man. "We have seen your brand, an old scar; the skin has long ago stretched and well scarred. And the whip scars and the healed cuff marks. Your oath of loyalty was won with pain, not with trust."

"What do you know?" Eiki whispered out, slowly regaining his composure after the last attack. "Do you really think you or I or anyone trying follows a leader out of trust, or loyalty or honour? Those are just words, fairy tales, values a general instils in his troops so they will go and happily walk to their deaths. And for what, for a fantasy, something that doesn't exist? You follow your leaders as we follow ours, out of fear; no matter the cause chosen to fight for, in the end its always for power. At least my Master proclaims his true intentions, better that than the weaklings and the chaos that preceded him."

Never swaying in her searching gaze, Diocesi stood without expression against his words, a state far removed from the spectators around her. In truth, the longer he talked, the harder she gazed and a sparkle began to form in her eyes.

"Are your bitter words for our benefit or merely for your own? Trying to convince us that you are a true follower of Enleo, or, or, … why you can't tell us what you know, or trying to get yourself killed? You pour such energy into every word and yet you know that they are falsehoods, lies told by a child to explain why they served one who brought such pain."

"Shut up, shut up. You don't know me, don't know who or what I am. I'm a bringer of death, I've drank the blood of my victims. I've raped the unfortunate women you left behind when you ran off to play war. How do they justify knowing that their wives, sisters, nieces, aunts, mothers, daughters were beaten, raped, and killed because they weren't there to defend them? Tell me that, if you can look into my mind and tell me my innermost thoughts, tell me what they feel!"

"Probably the same way you felt when you had to watch your parents and sister get ripped apart. Poor desperate creature; they sacrificed their lives so you could live and all you wish for is death. That is why you bait these men, to end your suffering. Just tell us what it is we wish to know; tell us and we can make it end." The dark skinned girl replied, such comfort and understanding in her words it nearly struck Eiki speechless. The pent up emotions, the lost childhood, the death he had seen and caused, the nightmares that haunted him since the day he became an orphan washed over him and it took all of his composure not to weep like a child right there and then.

"I, I can't." he whispered, the pain of his earlier beatings coupled with the long buried memories becoming more than he could take. His entire world was crashing before him, such sorrow wrought by the words of one so lovely.

"I can't go against my Master; this life, my oath is all I have left. I cannot betray my honour; if I give it up, what would my parents think, they would truly hate me."

The backwards innocence of the words brought the hint of a smile to Diocesi's sensual mouth. She walked slowly towards the object of her scrutiny; hips swaying softly against the green cloth of her skirt. Taking his sagging head between her hands, she brushed the pad of her thumb across the cracked skin of lips.

"They could never hate you, Eiki, you are their child. They taught you the difference between right and wrong, you know that Enleo is evil what he has done to you he will do to others. You know in your heart that he has to be stopped, please tell us what you know." she chided to him, as a mother to a child and the tears he had held back for years upon years erupted from his eyes. Sobs and pleas for forgiveness tumbled from his mouth only to be hushed away by Diocesi; her fingers brushing away his tears.

"Eiki, let it out, it will help you heal."

"Oh, by the Fates, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it, any of it, but they whipped me, they threatened to rape my mother, oh fates help me. The Master has, has decided to finally destroy Bush … Bushi, and pick up the house of Modulus as well. He formed an unholy alliance with that demon of Okazaki, the sworn enemy of Modulus, so that he could match their weaponry. At first, he was going to wait to crush your rebellion before moving onto Bushi. But word was received that a new warrior might have taken control of Bushi. My Master sent a message of friendship, if the rumour was found to be true but I was sent out to inform the Coltello to abandon the rebellion for the attack on Bushi in two weeks. That was three days ago, my horse went lame along the way and I was forced to walk. I'm not sure what the messenger found but I don't doubt that he will attack Bushi, with or without the Coltello at his side. That ball less bastard will attack them with no warning, no chance to form any kind of resistance. He's a monster. Please, stop him." The words barely above a whisper seemed to echo through the deadly quiet tent. No one spoke, nor even breathed during Eiki's testimonial, understanding the well of pain the young man before them was drowning in.

"Good, Eiki, you have saved yourself. Sleep well, and sleep without dreams, you have earned your peace." Ciocesi whispered to him, trying to soothe the shaking man before her. Kissing him lightly on the cheek, she pinched the side of his neck and he slumped forward, his body finally still.

"Can we trust what he has said?" the older man asked, walking up to Diocesi's side. Finally taking her gaze off the young boy, she turned it towards the man who had become all but a father to her in these last four years since the death of her true sire. His brown hair was peppered with grey and lines of worry and weather displayed his experience for all to see. Though his exterior was a wall of indifference and discipline, Diocesi could see through the mask. Her third eye centred on the heart of his words; concern for his old master's daughter raged against the fear of a trick, or an ambush, the death or worse of everyone under his charge; herself included.

"He speaks the truth, his very sense of honour and shame forbid him from lying on so grave a matter. He has also not given his message to the Coltello."

"So, Enleo's decided to abandon his butcherers, this will definitely work to our advantage. It's about time we led them on a tour of Sauvage woods. Jolan, you heard everything he said, correct?" Lage said, pointing to the now unconscious informant.

"Yes, sir."

"Good; convey everything that has been said here today to Bushi. Take the boy's armour and the fastest horse we have; if in the chance you get captured, tell them some false message and escape as soon as possible." The boy turned, a grin a mile wide spread across his face in contemplation of the wild stories he could tell. Taking his leave, he headed to the tent that housed the messenger's armour, the leader and the mysterious three-eyed girl following him.

"My Lord," one of the soldiers called out, before the pair could slip into the bright morning light. Both turned back and stared at the man who had broken the silence in the tent. Shifting uncomfortable under the dual gaze, the man lowered his eyes, fear of what the girl might see in him spreading.

"Sir, what do we do with him?" He finally asked again, pointing at the still body of the strung up boy.

"He is harmless, he will not go back to Enleo. Untie him and send him to the medical tent, the medics will care for him. After that you may ask him to join our forces, he will do everything in his power to rid himself of the sins of his past." Diocesi answered, taking a protective role over the boy.

"Thank you, Mistress Dio, I mean Diocesi." the man replied, eyes still downcast. He waited until the light from the outside blinked out again before facing his companions. Walking over to the unconscious boy, he began to work at the knots around his limbs.

"What was that, Talc; get all doe eyed on that girl?"

"Are you kidding, that girl is off limits. Didn't you see that third eyed, it's the sign of the An Damhair temple. A group of wise men who could see into the soul of anyone, the good, evil, greedy, any intention you might have. That girl was the daughter of the head of the temple, rescued from Enleo's invasion by Lage. Could you imagine being around someone who could read your every thought?"

"Forget it, as long as she's on our side. Let's just get this little brat to the medical tent. All I can say is she better be right about him not giving the message to the Coltello. As long I can get through this mess without a sword in my back or a knife in my throat I'll be a happy man."

~~~~~

There was a serene peace in the forest that morning, the crisp cold stillness that spoke of the approach of Autumn. The trees were silent of the chattering of birds and other branch dwellers, the nightly events of the last week clearing the forest of all but the largest of life. Even the wind chose not to make its presence known, only the subtle sipping of a young elk by a gentle stream broke the all-consuming silence. Raising its noble head to the sky, it searched out with senses beyond those of the human who resides on this planet, two powers; inhuman, incredible powers. There, floating at the height of the eagle's flight they were, two beasts, stronger than the forest spirits themselves. Stepping back from its drinking font, one of its hooves broke a dry twig, the snap echoing in the empty air. The gaze of one of the creatures turned to acknowledge the sound and the deer, through whatever survival instinct it possessed, bolted back into the safety of the woods.

Staring out once more over the dormant forest, Kakarott let the feeble piece of game go and turned his attention to the being before him. Extending his senses out to the far reaches of their surroundings, he felt nothing more than the life force of several small dumb animals. The world seemed almost to stop and wait in reverence for the two warriors to begin; to watch the clash between the aliens of the same blood, the same unbound determination. Smirking at the anticipation of a real battle, not those pitiful fistfights that they had endured on the ship, Kakarott prepared himself. Might as well let royalty have the first shot, wouldn't want all the social order Nappa preached not go to waste. Allowing a small opening to peak through his guard, he was more than ready to block when the Prince spotted it and took the advantage. Flying towards him at full speed, fist cocked back; Kakarott was ready to come back with the block and a quick strike, until the smaller Saiyajin blipped out of existence. Out of instincts long honed in combat, Kakarott spun around and block just before Vegita could strike.

"Tisk, tisk, Ouji-sama, no originality what so ever." Kakarott laughed as the two jostled for superiority in the block.

"As if I couldn't see that obvious opening, baka. Of course, I doubt you can see the one you left opened this time." Vegita replied, kicking his leg up in a high arc, whacking Kakarott in the face and breaking the deadlock between them. Taking the advantage, Vegita flew at his opponent again, fist cocked back in a repeat of his first assault. This time though, he rained punches on the larger Saiyajin's face and stomach; attacking faster than Kakarott could block. Charging up a small amount of ki in his fist, he prepared to strike the other warrior with a short range ki attack. He was met with a look of triumph his adversary's eyes as his attack was stopped by the sudden appearance of a ki shield and the sting of a palm strike against his cheek. The momentum of Vegita's body shifted and he was pitched to the side, recovering in time to take up the defensive against Kakarott new assault.

Flying after the thrown Prince, Kakarott let the power of his ki flow through his veins, relishing the raw energy that consumed his blood. Aiming a punch at the disoriented warrior, he was surprised by the block that stopped his punch, and the legs that slammed into his mid section. The air forced from his body that had just began to recover from the swiftness of the Prince's attack and Kakarott prepared himself for another hit. A sudden burst of energy the warrior knew distinctly as that of the Saiyajin no Ouji, shot at him from the right side and Kakarott joined the fray again; arms, legs, elbows, shooting back and forth between the combatants. The two fought as the sun travelled across the sky, following its path as they flew at each other; both sporting cuts and injuries as first, second and third blood was drawn. Kakarott smirked like a mad jackal as he landed a hard punch into Vegita's stomach, the first true break between the constant testing and nicks they had put in the others defences. Slamming his clenched fists into the prone fighter's back, only to have his knee come back into the Prince's stomach, Kakarott wondered at Vegita's unusually behaviour. Continuing to pummel the Prince's dazed form, the once euphoric anticipation of battle died away into an unheard of concern. He had never known Vegita to give into pain as often, or when his reflexes had been so slow. It was only a few moments, a millisecond at the most, but in as impressive a warrior as the Prince such defects were almost unheard of. And yet, Vegita was as powerful as ever, his techniques and strikes no less damaging, and his ki; the barely contained energy that the Prince possessed was even stronger than their fight in the arena. Trying to wrap his head around the mystery, his momentary lapse in concentration was rewarded with a ki charged punch in the jaw and a growl of indigence from the one who landed it.

"You dare insult your Prince, bakayaro, by ignoring him? Think that this is nothing but a courtesy that you are granting me?"

"Not at all, Ouji-sama," Kakarott replied back, hand over his jaw, testing for any signs of dislocation. "I just thought that you would like a chance to actually fight; pounding you into the dirt can only be amusing for oh so long. What is the matter, your highness, has spending time on a planet with such low gravity affected you so greatly, or maybe it is the company you keep amongst the native; particularly blue haired females." The larger Saiyajin bit back, getting in his verbal jabs as hard as he could his physical ones; taunting his opponent with the same weaknesses he had laid at Kakarott's feet the last time they truly fought. Waiting for Vegita's reply, the smirking warrior gaze in disbelief, upping his ki and preparing himself for what he did not know. Always in their fights they had engaged in verbal sparring, taking aim at anything that was fair game, which was everything. The words had always been good-natured, if a bit stinging, but never had he witnessed such a reaction. The look in Vegita's coal black eyes grew from one of anger to that of unleashed rage, his barely contained ki swelling over the brink of anything that Kakarott had ever felt, save for the power levels of the Guiyu Forces. The blue white aura all but blinding him, Kakarott was almost caught off guard by the scream of pure fury that echoed through the silent world, and almost equally taken back by the massive beam of light that shot towards him. Screaming out his own battle cry, the yellow light of his aura surrounding him, the Saiyajin warrior charged his strongest blast, the two beams of overwhelming light met in the sky and blazed over the entire forest. All accusations of weakness were replaced with concern for his own survival as his own energy was slowly being pushed back against the mindless rage that fuelled Vegita's power. Channelling what little strength he had left in his free hand, the desperate warrior attempted to try his luck twice and aimed the deflected shot towards his Prince. Hoping to calm or at least wound the Prince enough to gain an inch, his ears rung with the Vegita's enraged scream and a band of purple overwhelmed his own blue one. Spiralling towards the scarred earth below him, the ground shock with the violence of his crash, the bare rock falling away and shooting up in a shower around him. The sensation of mind splitting pain inundated him as the flying rocks pounded down on his battered body. He cried out in muted pain before his body began to fail him and the world went black.

~~~~~

Opening his swollen eyes, Kakarott wished he hadn't when the harsh light of sun burned through his brain. The agony and soreness in his body followed suit and he began to truly wish he had been killed in that attack, at least he would be spared this pain.

"Struck a chord, My Prince, or is this an attempt to stop a third class rebellion?" Kakarott choked out, feeling once again the barely contained ki of Vegita close by, and a most unexpected sensation allow with it, that of guilt.

"Bakayaro, I could easily kill you, if not now then with my Gyariku Hou. I would suggest you keep your mouth shut and that ever curious mind of your on your own business."

"But, Ouji-sama, it is my business to protect the King, and as you are the closest facsimile here, I must perform my duty."

"Yes, fine guards men you would make like that; one of these pathetic humans could defeat you in the state you are in now. Even Nappa would have an easy time against you."

Against the pain that racked his body, Kakarott still chuckled out at the thought. "Please, my Prince, even in my weakest state I could hope to defend against someone like Nappa, just start telling him that the King has deemed that all Saiyajin Elite must have at least five inches of hair to be allowed into the military."

At the barb against his favourite punching bad, Vegita couldn't help but smirk, his titanic anger quelled, if for the moment.

"Ever with the back-up plan, eh baka? You're just lucky the Kami decided to counter your common blood with a keen mind, or you probably would not have survived past your first tournament." Vegita bit back with only a hint of the anger and annoyance that had all but radiated off him a few moments ago. The Prince watched in disinterest as the other warrior found his legs and stood against the pain that raked his body.

"As keen as I am accused of being, I'm afraid you've left me clueless." Kakarott replied, checking for any damage beyond the dislocated shoulder and bruised ribs that would heal much slower on this planet that knew no rejuvenation tanks. "What happened back there, My Prince? Your power feels stronger than ever, if you had trained in the gravity chamber for a month you would not have so high a jump. Yet, during the fight, you were slower than normal. I know about the woman, what she really is and what she did. I believe you are now missing a few technical slaves; they decided to make their home in my new abode."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Vegita bit back his rage and the humiliation of the truth that Kakarott had uncovered, angry at the man who always knew more than what he revealed. He had known he had been slower, the weaknesses that had crept into his fighting from a month of almost total inactivity had eaten away at him as he fought against his fellow Saiyajin. The knowledge that he had trouble keeping up with his rival, coupled with his nearly equal anger against the one who put him in such a state boiled over and what had struck Kakarott had been the result. Such power, such that he had never experienced, never hoped to describe flowed through him, an unforeseen side effect to the ki collar. There was no point in hiding it, if the guard had found out about the collar and what the woman really was, he could find out everything that had happened, every indignity that Vegita had suffered at that bitch's hands.

"What do you want to know, Kakarott?"

~~~~~

"After I woke up after the storm, I found myself on this planet, still in the pod. I was badly injured en route and the gas from the statis was still slowly down my systems. As disoriented as I was, I finally got into the air and tried to find some intelligent life, so that I could possibly get the ship repaired. Before my power gave out, I spotted this palace, white palace. When I finally got a sight of the life forms of this planet, felt their merger power levels, I decided to take over the house and simply claim this world as my own until I could get the pod operational again. The pseudo Saiyajins, as they appeared to me, had other ideas. Before I could even walk through the entrance and declare my intent they were on me. I could easily over power any of them but I had been so injured and I eventually passed out from the effort. The second time I awoke, I was in some cage, with a collar around my neck, being told by weaklings that couldn't even exist in Vegita-sei's gravity that I was to be prepared for my lessons and testing. Does that satisfy your curiosity, warrior?"

Using the keen mind and wit that he was so often accused off, Kakarott kept his mouth shut, ignoring the questions in his head of what happened after, how had Vegita actually escaped the collar, what it even was. If a weak creature like the man he had met last night could construct something that could bring down the Saiyajin no Ouji, he was more powerful than Kakarott had given him credit. One thing he had gleaned though, whoever that woman was, this Mistress of Modulus, she had earned such wrath from Vegita that he didn't even want to know what the Prince would do to her.

"Is she still alive, Ouji-sama?" he finally asked, silent understand between the two of them of who he was referring to. The mask of arrogant indifference lifted and a look of malevolent glee blinked into life in Vegita's eyes, only to blink out again in a moment.

"Hai, she is still ever much alive and enjoying herself in a cage as we speak. Yet, you still have not answered my question from yesterday; I would assume you did not just wake up and find yourself on this backward mudball."

"Iie, My Lord, though I guess that would be closer to the truth than anything else. After we realised that you weren't with the purging squad, the homing signal on your pod became operational; an unconscious gift from the pathetic human that was working on your pod. As Nappa had deemed it unnecessary to go looking for you or inform the King of the fact that you were missing, I decided to follow the signal myself and told the captain not to inform anyone of the signal until I contacted him again."

"Could not think of dealing with Nappa in such close quarters for so long?"

"You know me all too well, Vegita. After that I nearly followed the same route you did, went through the gas cloud, got knocked out and found myself on this planet, though in better shape then you. I tried to find the location of your pod and found some of these humans on the way. Rather unusual creatures, could almost be Saiyajins if they had a tail and a half decent power level, the physiology are remarkable similar. I eventually found my way to a palace of sorts, more like a fortress, black as onyx. Rather unusual customs they had to, I challenged the head of the house to a duel in hopes of getting answers to your whereabouts. I was then confronted by a young woman who accepted my challenge and told me that if I defeated her I would win control over her house." Kakarott stopped in the telling of the tale of his activities in the past week, he didn't know why but to his ears it sounded like the most fanciful, incredulous story he had ever heard; if he hadn't lived it himself he would have called the teller a liar.

"Go on, I would certainly hope that one of the best fighter on Vegita-sei was beaten by some slip of a girl."

Kakarott's mouth broke in a grin as he thought of his fight, and the young woman with whom he had fought it, a true rarity in the universe. His smile died away into a standard Saiyajin scowl though, as her far less noble attributes came to his mind.

"Hai, Ouji-sama, I toyed with her for a while, but she was able to grab my tail during the fight. I was in some trouble before I decided to show the little chit some manners and used my ki to over power her. I am now the head of the warrior house of Bushi, and your ally now, My Lord of Modulus."

"I am the Saiyajin no Ouji, baka, do not refer to me by any pathetic Gaian title. By the way, congratulations on your promotion, even if it is of the head of a bunch of weak humans; Kakarott, you never cease to amaze me sometimes."

"Your praise is most appreciated, Ouji-sama. I now understand the weight you feel upon your shoulders."

"Spare me your noble words, third class, they can only save you for so long. Go back to your house, find mastery over your warriors; then set them on their course and make it always your will. We will meet again when I summon you. Oh by the way, Kakarott, what happened to the chit?"

"When I defeated her in combat, it meant not only her house but her life, so she is mine by their own laws. I have yet to decide what to do with her, at present she is enjoying similar accommodations as your own wench." Kakarott replied as he bowed in reverence to his Lord before preparing to fly back to the duties he had left this morning in promise of a good fight.

"Remember Kakarott, men will follow what they know, what has offered them stability. If you wish to gain power, you must show your mastery, your ability; show your cruelty, show them justice. It would be wise to remember that."

"Hai, Vegita; you will make an excellent king one day." His vassal replied once more and flew into the sky, Vegita's parting words and his confusion over the woman ChiChi turning in his mind. He was an Elite now, it was time he truly took the full weight of his position, and rid himself of his indecision about ChiChi.

~~~~~

"He said WHAT!!!!!!!!!"

"Please forgive me, my Lord. I am only relaying what happened. He said he had never heard of you, that he would not give up the woman and that a 'Saiyajin does not give up before the battle has begun'. He was beyond powerful, my Lord, a creature with no fear, a monster worthy of all the legends of the demons of the Hells, eyes as black as death, that tail."

"ENOUGH! Idiots, I'm surrounded by idiots. Get out of my sight and report to Reismen. Tell him every part of your little story and have him attend me in my study when he is finished. And tell Tioce to come at once. Idiots," Enleo continued to mumble as he ignored the young boy, "I'm surrounded by IDIOTS!" Not noticing the boy's hasty retreat from the room he began to pace back and forth, covering every inch of his study, the brain centre of his empire. The walls were covered in maps of every corner of the Central Continent, from his first battle grounds in the sands of the South against the forty tribes over trading routes and water supply. Looking over the colourful display, his eyes encountered the maps of the Eastern city states, the shipping ports along the Tsumaic sea. Lines cut across the smooth surface of the map, battle plans and troop movements, all in the attempt to break the siege warfare that halted his way and threatened his hold on his Southern Empire. They didn't last long in the end, the brutality and cunning of his first encounters with war had served him well in those battles, especially against those that did not know the business of war. It wasn't long before he was becoming a super power in his own right, a jackal of the desert becoming a lion amongst the lambs. Then, his greatest victory against the forces of the greatest warlord of the North, the forces of Bushi falling on the plains of Noi Tide field. And now, as he looked over his giant map of the whole Central Continent, a smirk of pure satisfaction spread across his face, apart from the last pockets of resistance to his rule, the nearly whole of the Central Continent was his. The only thing that stood in his way, the mountains that cut through the centre of the land, that divided the Western lands from those of the civilised known world. Only a few had ever been able to journey to those lands, but it was only a matter of time before he took his entire fleet, an acquisition from his victory over the Eastern Princes. Yes, all that stood in his way was the elements, and one slip of a girl and the memory of her parents. And now a man; obviously a creature from the sky if it did not know who he was. That stupid fool boy, if he had to hear one more thing about this thing, one more fanciful tale about what it could do, how it felt no fear, he swore he would strike someone. By the Hells, soon they would be telling him it shot fire out of its nostrils and had a twenty-foot tongue. No matter, it was just a man, a tailed one, by a man never the less, he would fall, and then he would prove to this superstitious ramble that a man who could fly could also bleed, and die.

"You sent for me, My Lord?" a voice rang out against his thoughts and broke the warlord from his thoughts. Damn boy, didn't even close the door before he left, these Northerners were more trouble than they were worth. Looking over his shoulder at the intruder of his thoughts, his eyes met a pair of nervous dark green ones, only to have them turned downwards in reverence after that first initial connection. Tioce, Enleo huffed, yet another acquisition from the Eastern traders. The head servant of one of the shipping Princes, he had calmly given his loyalty to Enleo when his forces had finally busted through the doors of his Master's home. The man had then remained at his side as valet and personal servant, though shying away from the brutality of his new life. Tioce, as all his servants and slaves from his conquests, feared him, did not understand his methods, his executions, the torturing of his enemies. Idiots, he thought again, they did not have to understand him, just fear him. That man, those women but a few days ago, they were examples of his power, lessons to remind those of his household and his empire the price of defiance.

"Who was that boy, Tioce, the one that was sent on the mission to Bushi?"

"That one, sir, nothing more than a page, one of the boys that you 'saved' after you slaughtered their parents. Too weak for military duty, my Lord; he's only fourteen."

Turning to face the man before him, Enleo smiled viciously at Tioce, the smile of inner knowledge, frightening inner knowledge.

"By the time I was fourteen, Tioce, I had killed my first man, was part of my first battle and had my first wench. I do not think that the boy is too young for military service, in fact, I think you should send him to the Eola forests to the North."

Tioce's eyes widened at his Master's suggestion, his olive skinned began to pale with the unspeakable thoughts that materialised in his head.

"Sir, but, but that is the land of the barbarians, it's said they fight naked and eat the brains of their victims. He will cease to exist."

"Exactly. Can't have a little shit like that spreading stories about the enemy, that they know no fear, creature with magical powers that can fly. You would have never survived in the desert, Tioce, simpering children such as that have no place in an army, if the enemies don't cull them off, the elements will. Strength is the only thing that matters, the true warrior believes in victory at all costs. Now, what news of Gero's assault on Modulus."

Coughing to cover his weakness in front of his Master, Tioce lowered his eyes once again.

"I would not know, sir, we have not heard from him since the assault was planned over three days ago. The attack was supposed to be on the night of the New Moons but…"

"But there was a Moon, rather beautiful Full one. Yes, one does not forget something like that. You think this would have an affect?"

"I know not, my Lord, just that I have heard a rumour that the Mistress of Modulus has fallen and that a new power has taken over her house. I've only received the barest descriptions from some of my contacts but, it, it sounds like the creature that Denapi described; a powerful, dark haired, tailed creature."

"WHAT!! Do these monkeys grow on trees!! Get Gero, use that damn communicator, whatever you have to do get that old decrepit bastard, and get to the bottom of this. And Tioce, never question me again, is that understood?"

"Yes, My Lord." the man said as he bowed low to his Master and walked out of the chamber.

~~~~~

Tossing and turning about in exhausted restlessness, Bulma moaned and murmured in her sleep. The blanket which had been wrapped tightly around her was loosening due to her movements and now her legs, arms and part of her back was exposed to the light. Unable to free herself from the nightmare world that she had found herself in, Bulma thrashed all the more violently, trying to fight off the demons in her head. Relief came in the most unusual manner as her head banged against the hard cold steel of her cage, jarring her eyes open and a yelp of pain from her mouth.

"Owww! Huh, what in the world is going on?" she mumbled out, her body sore and tired from the terrible night she had spent in the cramped space. Rubbing the sore point on her head with her hand, she let the blanket drop from her body as she attempted to sit up; only to scream once more as her eyes adjusted to the harsh light of the day.

"Ahhh!" she screamed at the man that stared down at her through the bars of the cage, hastily covering her nakedness with the warm blanket. "What are you doing here? Where the hell am I, why am I in a cage? I demand that you let me out."

The man, having recovered his wits and his balance at Bulma's outburst, tried to calm her before she began screaming again. She was distorted, he knew, still in the grip of sleep, not realising what had happened, what has and will happen to her. A solemn air overcame the man and he bit back the need to comfort the woman before him, hated himself for causing the pain and uncertainty that would soon plague her beautiful blue eyes.

"Mistress, please calm yourself. Do, do you remember anything about yesterday?" He said, calmness and sadness mixed in his voice. Reaching over to the side of the cage, he produced a small key and undid the latch. Lifting up the heavy steel lid, he again stared down at the woman in front of him; cold, hard reality hitting her like a hurricane, her eyes reflecting the pain that had thrust upon her too fast, too strong. A hint of moisture sparkled in her eyes, making the soft blue of her irises dance in the low light of the late day, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. That vulnerability vanished in a flash of anger in her eyes, making Nonac wonder whether it had existed in the first place. Raising herself up, Bulma stood proudly, coldly before him, the blanket that she had wrapped around her shoulders all that hid her body from his gaze. Gracefully stepping out of the cage, she glanced over him, her whole continuos like that of a hard stone statue, reading to take whatever might be thrown at her.

"The 'Master' has sent for you to serve him, my Lady, in the bathing chambers. If you would please come this way," he asked, pausing for a moment as she tightened her grip on the edge of the blanket. "With your cover, I will take you to him."

Tension easing just slightly in her stance, she followed him out of the Kennel and into the hall, walking by his side as they passed through the corners and corridors that she obviously knew by heart.

"Please, tell me what has happened, what has he done, who … who has he killed?" she finally broke the unnatural silence between them and let out all the worries she must have been feeling when the memories of what had occurred only yesterday flooded back to her. Barely over a whisper, her voice cracked once trying to hold in the emotions that were sweeping over her.

"He has not harmed anyone, My Lady, not after he killed the guard yesterday. He has ordered that a new head house servant be chosen and has secured the uneasy loyalty of most of the staff, not without threats of punishment if his will is not done. The soldiers are a somewhat different story."

"What, how?" Bulma asked, her nature curiosity getting the better of her.

"I know only a little of what occurred yesterday, Mistress, but I was told that the race of the Master, these Saiyajins, have a very strong military tradition, particularly with the choosing of the royal guard. As the Master is the Prince of his race, a tournament was held amongst the guards to decide upon the new hierarchy of the guards. The Master also offered to teach him who to use their energy, as he can, though they would not be a strong as himself."

If Nonac had been given a chance, he knew he would have seen the gears in her head whirling away at that news, and what it meant.

"He has won their loyalty, they have betrayed me, haven't they?" Bulma asked, dejection replacing the curiosity in her voice. "Was I so hated, what will become of me now?" she whispered to herself, unconsciously ignoring her escort's presence. She slowed in her pace towards her ultimate destiny, and turned to the row of narrow windows that looked out over the valley and the forest and foothills beyond. All of it, it was all hers once, but now, she was nothing more than an object, a tool in the service of another, as she had been to Gero, been to her old Master; would her victimisation never end? The warm sunlight of mid-afternoon caressed her features, her eyes were staring out over the green and yellow landscape but not taking anything in. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, her only life preserver in the ocean of sadness and shame she was drowning in. Pushing away from the window, she continued down the hallway, not saying another word to the guard.

She had found her nerve again until they reached the bathing chambers, the hard knocking of their footsteps seemed to reverberate through her body. Every step reminded her of what she was walking into, every creak conjuring up images of what he would do to her, what her fate would be in this new house. She swallowed hard, hoping that her companion wouldn't see the sign of weakness; if she couldn't hold it together in front of an ally and supporter, how could she face her enemy? Sweat began to form on her soft skin as the heated air of the baths crept out into the hall, the dark mauve marble warm against her bare feet, the rich grey granites of this section of the house a contrast to the white marble of the normal walls. Come to think of it, it was rather an oddity at all that he would call for her here; not that it would make any difference where he called her, the end result was almost certain to be the same. She swallowed again at the renewed speculation of her punishment spun and twisted inside her head, her legs growing heavy and sluggish as her final destination appeared around the corner. At first it was ten feet, then nine and seven six, four and three; before she stood in front of the massive stone door, all her fears, desires inundated her, until she felt everything and nothing at the same time. Shooting a quick glance over her shoulder at her escort, she allowed the blanket to drop from her body, exposing her womanly charms to view. Looking back again, this time in seductive confidence, she smiled at the man's turned head and blushing cheeks.

"If you could, please return that gift to the guard on Kennel duty last night and thank him very much for his kindness." she said, again facing the door, and what lay behind it.

~~~~~

It was almost anti-climatic as she pushed the heavy door opened with all her strength, her eyes adjusting to the low light of the bathing chamber. She expected a hand on her throat the second she walked in, brutality, violence, forced intentions, every sick and twisted act imaginable, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing. The door swung shut of its own accord and she was alone in the chamber, the sweat beading on her body and her hair growing limp in the steam. He's not here, she finally surmised, the guard would be gone by now; this was her chance to escape. She wheeled around and ran back to the door, only to run into a wall of granite, a warm wall with strong steady arms that grabbed her and held her close. Almost screaming in shock and fright, her frantic blue eyes were met by a sharply contrasting pair of obsidian black eyes that glowed in confidence as he held her shaking body against his own.

"Thinking of escaping, coward? Need we have another talk about honour, woman?"

"Who are you to talk of honour, you, you animal. I command you to release me at once." Vegita laughed at her defiance, and loosened his grip on her fragile body only a fraction of inch, though her curves still brushed against his body. Her scent played in his nose as the heat between their bodies rose, the intake of their breaths quickening at their continued contact.

"Who am I, little one, I am your supreme Lord and Master, the one that now controls your life, whether you eat, drink, sleep, think, breath is all by my will. Try to call your weaklings now." he taunted, his dark eyes boring into hers, his entire aura brimming with power and seductive confidence. He was bare from the waist up, a large towel wrapped around his waist was the only cover he had over his nakedness. The clean, wonderfully masculine smell of him wafted through her nostrils and the smooth softness of his skin brushed against the sensitive skin of her breast, the sensations beginning to arouse a response in her body. She bit her lip and centred her mind on her anger, hoping that he would not see or feel the slow awakening of her body.

"Do not think you can control me, monster. You are not the first and you will not be the first to succeed. And you are one to talk of honour, what of honour to your vows. You vowed to me your oath of loyalty, are you to say that the 'Saiyajin no Ouji's' word is not as good as his bond?" To her supreme annoyance, he laughed at her comments, the deep throaty sound causing the growing warmth between her thighs to bloom into life as the gentle rubbing of his body against her own sent unconscious shivers done her spine. Her breath caught in her throat in veiled surprise as his hand caught her chin and brought her face to his, his lips just hair's width from her ear.

"I don't think I can control you, woman, I know I can, just as I'm controlling your body right now. As for your oh so precious vow of loyalty, as far as I am concerned it was only as good as that collar hung around my neck, and as it is gone, so is any hold of honour you have over me. Are we in agreement, little one?" he whispered into her ears, the softness of his touch and that teasing breath in her ear allowed a satisfied sigh to slip from her parted mouth. The heat of the room and the heat of his hands were having their desired effect on her will, weakening her resolve and her resistance to him. Confusion and desire shone in her eyes as she tried to muster her defence against him and herself.

"Why did you call me then, 'your highness'?" Bulma bit back in response, growling in contempt. Vegita's smirk only widened, and his hands began to caress the soft skin of her back.

"I had originally intended for you to bath me and rub that oil on my back as you had earlier, though you took so long getting here that I decided not to wait for your assistance with the bath."

"Decided to try swimming in the grown ups' pool or finally figured out how to clean yourself?" Her retort came fast and furious and so did the hard pinch on Bulma's back, tweaking the nerve he had introduced her to yesterday morning. Gasping for air as the sudden wave of pain drove out the contents of her lungs, her knees weakened and she placed her hands on his biceps in an effort to maintain her balance.

"How dare you insult your Prince, does life hold such little meaning for you that you would threaten it by encoring my wrath. Considering this a warning, wench, and that the next time you wish to keep me waiting I will not be as lenient. Now," Vegita said, releasing his hold on her back and allowing her to compose herself. "You can begin your new duties, as my pleasure slave."

"What," Bulma squeaked out before she a coughing fit overtook her. Lightly grasping her throat, she stared up at him with eyes full of rage. "What do you mean, my new duties?"

"Are you so dense, did you think I would require your assistance in keeping his house operational? This is my revenge, woman, or the start of it at least. To do to you as you have done to me, though I don't require a testing, I already know your many attributes. You will now attend me as my personal slave, with this," he said, skimming his hand down her back to her buttocks. "As your uniform." Bulma trembled in fear as his hand reached the sensitive, now sore point on her back and Vegita stiffened at the movement and the utter dejection in her eyes. He almost wished to get her yelling again, just to see the strong defiant sparkle in those soul-stealing eyes once more. Removing his hands from her naked body, he walked to a strong metal table that stood along the side of the pool, sheets and cushions covering its surface. As if in a trance she followed, feeling like a hollow shell of herself, cringing inwardly at her weakness and fear. On the table, her wooden box of massage oils sat, obviously indicated what he wished of her at the moment. What would happen to her when he required more of her, required her as she had required him. She shivered again in apprehension and delight at the thought of being in his arms, those arms that could now crush mountains with no visible effort. Taking the box from the surface of the table, she placed it on the floor and rummaged through it, looking for any possible oil that would cause an allergic reaction. Not such luck, she realised as her search proved for not, besides, retribution for something like that would come faster and more brutally than her barbs possibly could. Finally selecting an oil, she waited for him to take his position on the table as she stood off to the side, admitting to herself that she hadn't given in, that she would never just give in to him, even as her eyes devoured his strong, solid back.

Vegita had to hold back a groan as he felt the warm oil rubbed into his skin by those soft, deft little hands. After the humiliation of admitting the truth to Kakarott, his desire to see the woman brought down increased all the more. It started his plan several days in advance but just the thought of her serving him, catering to his every desire, breaking down the walls of her dignity, proved too strong a challenge for him to ignore. So he sent for her, waiting in anticipation of the battle they would have, the victory he would most obviously win over her, and he nearly lost his nerve as he beheld her before him, naked, frightened, and yet her back straight and proud, looking for the world as some fallen goddess. And as her eyes flashed fire at his words and her body reacted to his touch, he had almost lost his nerve again, the feeling of her like an overload for his senses. When had he become such a masochist, lying here, being burned alive with her touch, forcing himself to resist and not respond with his own? Originally he had hoped this little episode would be like the first time she had given him a massage, with him controlling the interaction between them to his own end. Well, it was working in one case, he growled in anger at her apparent lack of response while he all but writhed under her touch. Damn witches, what cosmic game of mind control are they playing with me, trying to make me weak by sending me this vixen, maybe she's the ring leader of this entire band, created with the soul purpose of driving him mad. She moved higher up on his shoulders again and their hips met in a short moment of contact; it took all the will power the Saiyajin Prince had not to grab her then and there and touch her, explore her body until he knew it as well as his own. Inundated by the steam, the heat of the room, the warmth of the oil, the softness of her hands, the smell of her that craved a tasting, his mind began to wander and his body took over. Their hips brushed again and he though of grabbing them, stroking her hips and thighs and the space in between, of caressing the heavy, silken flesh of her breasts. Remembrances of her lips and body caressing his back flooded his mind and he felt himself becoming hard, the temptation of her almost too much for him. He tried to even out his breath and calm his arousal when those soft, deft little hands brushed the base of his tail and all of his willpower was blown to the wind as he grabbed her surprised body. His mouth descended to her neck, to the tops of her breasts and back to her neck; and she all but melted against him. His hands, never to be still, began to caress and smooth over her side in a desperate attempt to feel, to experience her at all levels. Making their way to her breasts to cup the firm, swelling mounds in his hands, teasing and pinching her nipples until she shivered and whimpered in delight.

"Vegita." she breathed out, her husky voice and ragged breath like a caress against his cheek and he took his lips in hers to finally taste that inviting mouth. His lips moved over hers with every emotion that had been flowing through him since she'd entered the room, finally opening her mouth as his tongue explored and tasted her until she was gasping for air. Breaking their contact only enough for her to fill her lungs, his attentions returned with avengeance, touching and kissing her until his knees felt they would give out. One of his hands travelled between her thighs, fingering her moist, tight wetness as her juices flowed down his hand, making her moan against her mouth. Teasing her aroused body, he began to nudge his manhood into her entrance, giving into her silent pleas as she mutely begged him to fulfil her. Her soft curvaceous body writhed under his own hard one and it was all he could do to not shuttered at her touch. His lips continued to ravage her mouth, lost in the taste of her, the very essence of her. He opened her mouth wider as he neared her centre, the sweetness of her becoming an addiction; Kami how he hungered for her, his tongue probing deeper and deeper into her mouth. All thoughts of revenge vanished from his mind as he concentrated on pleasuring her, tasting her again and again until he was drunk off her intoxicating mouth. By Kami, he was losing himself in her, drowning in her, drowning, drowning. Splash! The sound rang out through the stone room as Vegita pushed the woman from his arms and she landed, very unceremoniously, in the bathing pool. Grabbing a towel to hide his painful obvious state, she stared down at her coughing sputtering form, wiping the water from her eyes and cursing him to the darkest pits of their hell.

"Arghhhh!!!!! Vegita, you bastard. How dare you!"

"What, didn't you wish to be clean, woman, that will teach you to be on time and to attend me when I call upon you." Vegita laughed back, his eyes flashing with regret and passion as he stared at her. He was almost sure the look of regret and passion that shone from her eyes mirrored his own, hers though slightly coloured by shame, rage and confusion. Her body trembled in unsatisfied lust and pleasure; her silken hair lay wet and riotous about her head. Those soft tempting lips that had captured him but a moment ago caught his attention again, pouting and swollen, highlighted by the pale pink flush of her cheeks from her own arousal. Turning from her to hide his reaction, he walked from the room, the towel still firmly in place around his waist. He would have to visit the technical wing soon and get some training aides made before he lost his head.

"You are dismissed, woman." Vegita finally said, his hand on the door, ready to leave to ponder this new development in his revenge. "I do hope you enjoy the Kennel this evening."

He smiled to himself as he shut the door and made the way to his own wing, the walls ringing with Bulma's shrieks and splashes.

~~~~~

"WHAT!!!! WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT KAMI FUCKING THIRD CLASS?"

"Please, Commander Nappa, try to calm down. I don't know where Kakarott is; he didn't join us on the training mission to Soloe and I haven't seen him since our return. You know he is a weird one, takes after that father of his."

Nappa growled further at the thought of the purging squad leader. The lower classes with their unchecked breeding; they would be the ruin of Vegita-sei one day. It was rumoured that some of them even took alien mistresses and spawned half breeds. The notion of some weak perverted abomination half breed could share his noble Saiyajin blood drew another growl from the Elite. He didn't give a shit where Bardock's surprisingly strong son was, but the boy had a kind of hidden intelligence like his father, and if he was gone, there must be a reason. The, the thing didn't even enjoy purging, not to the extent that most low class Saiyajins revelled in it. No, that guard was dangerous, a danger since he first moment he laid eyes on him at the tournament, and the fact that he held such position and sway with the Prince didn't help matter either. Oh Kami, the Prince; that was another headache. He had justified his closing off of the all the communication channels back to Vegita-sei and any other base with the importance of national security. Well his existence was essential to national security and if the King learned of the Prince's fate, or what they had gleaned from that squad leader, his security would definitely be at risk.

Looking around the training room at the faces of the other Elites, a measure of shock and interest at the cause of his outburst. He decided he would have to get answers before he could truly enjoy beating someone to a bloody pulp, the tension would probably affect his ability to fight. Fuck, would these baka low class squad leaders and their bastard sons ever leave him in peace? Withdrawing from the training room, slamming his fist through the stomach of a passing alien slave, he continued to the bridge. Another low class, at least this one is first, Nappa thought of the captain, better make sure that the ship has been sent careening into a black hole with that weakling and those pathetic slaves at the helm. Walking with expressed determination, the Commander of the Saiyajin military burst through the door of the bridge.

"Commander Nappa, do what do I own the 'pleasure' of your company?" Oningo replied sarcastically to the Nappa's less than subtle entrance. The various alien crew members were far more apprehensive than their captain, fearing what the Commander would do if enraged enough; a slave's life meant nothing to the Saiyajins. Deciding that if they looked busy they might lived to see another day, the crew was silent, all the while listening intently to the single conversation that rang out over the bridge.

"Where is he, Oningo?"

Looking over the Elite with passive disinterest, Oningo merely sniffed and returned to his galactic maps. "And who would you be referring to, sir?"

"Don't play dumb with me, maggot."

"I felt I had to keep up with you, sir."

"Don't try to play your stupid Western mind games with me. Where is Kakarott? You're hiding something, I know you are. I can smell lies and deceptions kilometres away."

Oningo continued to look over in his maps in a vain attempt to look busy. He knew Nappa knew, well, knew that he knew where Kakarott was, or where he was supposed to be. It would go against the bald moron's sense of honour to ask one of the alien crew, so Oningo was his only option. The captain grinned viciously underneath his short spikes; this held some definite possibilities.

"Well, then I'm surprised you can smell any deception at all, considering that you reek of it. Closing the communication channels to uphold national security, does that mean saving your own skin?"

"Shut up, I don’t care if you are the captain, I swear I'll throw you out the air lock if you don't tell me where Kakarott is. Or maybe I'll just rip apart your crew one member at a time; as long as the pods are operational and will fly back to Vegita-sei, I could careless what happens to this pile of scrap metal. So talk."

Oningo growled at the threat; the moron was right, amazing that he thought at such a level that he could even reason or use logic. More than that, if Nappa did decide to destroy the ship, the blame would be laid on him, especially when the word of every high ranking soldier would be against him.

"He is not here."

"Well, that's obvious, where?"

"I wouldn't know, I'm not the nurse maid of Elites or they who fancy themselves such. After the meeting with Rehcse, he got some thought into his head about finding the Prince, ran off to the docking bay and that was the last I've heard of him. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

"That bastard, he's trying to get himself even tighter in with the Prince, trying to weasel me out of my position when the heir ascends. That fucking bastard!" Nappa screamed and pounded his fist against one of the ship's consules, the attendant falling out of his chair at the impact. Nappa turned to glare daggers at the unfortunate creature when his eyes spotted the flashing light of a pod's homing device, the co-ordinates set for a location that was not on any of the purging mission flight plans. Looking over to the pod's designation, cold hard reality struck the Commander; the Prince's pod, that fucker found the Prince.

"Damn it," Nappa screamed to no one, to everyone who had plagued his mind as of late, particularly the oh too clever Royal Guardsmen. "Oningo, open the communications with Vegita-sei; I'm going to reveal the whereabouts of the Prince and tell the King of the guard that put the heir's life in such serious danger."

"What are you talking about, Kakarott was actually doing his duty to protect the Prince, you know this little scheme won't work."

"Oh, on the contrary, my word against that upstart, especially if I can sway the King to believe me, there would be nothing that anyone, not even the Prince, could do to stop Kakarott's demotion, possibly even his death. I asked for those communication channels opened thirty seconds ago."

"Forgiveness, Captain, but we can't get through, the message backlog is making it impossible." the communications officer squeaked out, the atmosphere in the room becoming too heated and dangerous for his liking.

"Then let the messages play through on fast forward, do whatever you have to do to get those channels opened." The green skinned man complied and all the messages of the last ten days. The mood of the Commander shifted from assured triumph to uncertainty as the messages played out, the general summons and requests to speak to the Prince. The look in the King's eyes changed from anger, to annoyance, desperation and finally defeat, all of which were mirrored in Nappa's. The final message, dated two days ago finally switched on to the screen, a female Saiyajin screaming to speak with her mate. The message blurred as her screams were overwhelmed by the shaking of what must have been the planet. The bridge was then filled with the eeriest of silences, only the soft buzzing of the static and the swallow breaths of all who were witness.

"Kami, no." Oningo whispered before he set a course towards the pod's homing signal.

~~~~~

Vegita walked through the rows and rows of benches, computers, technical equipment and inventions that littered the room with complete disinterest; to think that he gave up the opportunity to spar with Kakarott for this. Pushing past the frightened tech that had volunteered to show him around the facilities, he'd come to the conclusion half an hour ago to just threaten them with death to build him what he wanted and it was about time he got what he had waited oh so patiently for.

"I want a gravity chamber."

"My Lord?"

"Do you not understand Standard? I said I want a gravity chamber, a chamber with controllable gravity settings for training. You are supposed to be the greatest inventors this flying mudball, and if you wish to remain that way you will give me a positive response."

The man looked up at Vegita nervously, he had never thought he would have to deal with enraged alien royalty when he was first sold as a slave; maybe being a field worker would have been a better life.

"I'm afraid, sir," the man began, only to have Vegita close his hand over the other man's windpipe, slowly cutting off the air to his lungs.

"Yes," Vegita replied, his voice the very definition of calm composed cruelty.

"We don'hht have the compohhnents to make something likah that. Only …" the man all but passed out, his face turning the most unhealthy shade of indigo as the Prince's hand tightened in grip.

"Only what?" Vegita growled, finally giving into the man's frantic waving and grasping and loosened his death grip. Slowly his face returned to its normal brown. "Only what?" Vegita asked again, his patience thinning all the more.

"Only the Mistress would have the knowledge or the skill to create something like that. She's the head tech of this house, she's the one that taught most of us how to read or write and we were selected for our grasp of math and physics."

"Well if you can't create anything useful maybe you can give me some answers, who the hell invented that collar?"

"The ki collar, it was originally invented by the Master of Modulus."

"Master, do you mean to insult me by saying that that woman was once a man?" A small glowing ball of energy formed in the Prince's gloved hand and the tech began to stammer, his death promised in the eyes of the enraged Saiyajin if he didn't come up with a better answer.

"No, no, sir; the collar was invented by the lord of the first Modulus, the greatest technical house on the Central continent, before it was destroyed twelve years ago. He had originally invented it as a way to unlock and magnify the ki energy of guards and warriors."

"Really, intriguing; then perhaps maybe you can tell me how it came to be used to weaken it." The ball still shone in his hands, flooding every shadow and corner of the lab with the bright blue-white light.

"That part is a little sketchy, most of us have figured that it must have been developed after the death of the Modulus and the old lord. The collars that were placed on you were the first real working prototypes, created by the Mistress."

"Could these collars be used to magnify ki then?"

"It is a possibility, the repression flux is easier to program than the magnification modulator, though theoretically it is possible, though again you would have to speak to the Mistress to find out more about it."

"Is she the only one that knows anything about mechanics in this Kami forsaken house, why would she even name the stupid thing after an old house that burned to the ground. Was she some pupil of the old Master?"

"The greatest of his pupils, his daughter and the only member of the house that survived the massacre. It is not commonly talked about in the house; most of the people in the North did not even know of the original Modulus' existence. Several of us are from the Southern provinces and the old territories of An Ceitean know of the stories, of the atrocities committed by Gero and the house of Okazaki. Some even say that he took her personally as a pleasure slave, and that she stole the collar from Gero after he stole it from her father. No one really knows, the original Okazaki house is long dead with the collapse of the An Ceitean empire, our war is with the new house, though still the same old bastard."

All through the tech's speech, Vegita never said a word, not a muscle moved, not the slightest chance in expression. When he finally finished, Vegita looked him up and down and walked away back towards the door.

"Thank you, it's been an enlightening experience." he said before throwing the small energy orb over his shoulder, leaving a gapping hole in the centre of the lab.

~~~~~

Bulma knelt in as she watched her new 'Lord' eating dinner, sitting in her chair in her study. After what could only be called the bathing incident, yesterday she was called for again to serve him food and pour out wine whenever he wished. The worst was her duties when she was not needed, to kneel by his chair, back four feet and at a 45ø angle from his chair and merely look forward. She absently rubbed the developing bruise on her arm when she asked if he was going to measure the angle with a protractor, if he even understood how to use one. That small victory had cost her and she had to bit her tongue every time he called on her to serve him a new dish.

"Oi, wench, come here and bring the desert. And while your at it, fill my glass." the Saiyajin Prince chuckled out mockingly, watching her slow progress with sadistic pleasure. Bulma all but retched at the thought of his touch, of those nights they had spent together, her hormones taking over her mind and allowing her to give herself to this monster. Even her study was filled with the vile memories of him and her and their night together; though, she thought, skimming over his muscular body highlighted by his blue battle suit, maybe vile might not be the best word for it. Damn it, control yourself, Bulma mentally scream, clutching at her anger and sense before she did something she would regret, and giving Vegita a tongue whipping was not one of them, though. Argh, she thought, get a grip, she cried, digging her fingernails into her palms, the pain a source of focus. Grabbing the bejewelled wine vessel, she took the empty goblet from the table and filled it with the sweet red wine. Handing it back to him, she turned and looked for anything remaining that she could serve him for desert.

"You will bless and sweeten this wine, wench, such is the job of the pleasure slave."

"But you just drank from it, it could hold no poisons or drugs."

Vegita chuckled at her attempts at reasoning with him. "As if any pitiful poison or concoction you could make could possibly hurt me, I just wish to see you belittled before me, woman. And do not question your Master again." His eyes flashed with the promise of torture, of violence and everything unspeakable and Bulma ignored it, and the tiny voice in her head that told her to do as he said. Taking the goblet in her hands, she spit into the wine and drew back her arm to throw it in the Saiyajin's face. His reflexes though, were something she had not anticipated and the chalice dropped from her hand as Vegita grabbed her and forced her against marble wall. Gasping at the sudden impact, her defiant blue eyes stared back into cold, unyielding black eyes and she felt her body reacting to his touch. Shaking with fury, digging her nails into her palms to force the feelings out she hissed at him to show her anger at his touch. Her body wasn't listening, though, as her eyes travelled over the strong masculine planes of his face, remembering those lips that had tasted her very soul the day earlier.

"If you do not let me go, 'My Lord', I can not get you your desert." Bulma said, trying to divert the Saiyajin's attention to something she knew he couldn't resist.

"But my desert is right in front of me." he chide back and before she could respond, his mouth was covering hers, taking away all her thoughts and resistance. She melted against his beautiful body, all the strength in her being zapped away. Clinging to him for dear life, she moaned deliciously when his tongue parted her lips and began to explore her mouth, rubbing and caressing her. His tail and swept across the skin of her back, causing a fit of shivers down her spine and push herself further into his embrace. He chuckled against her mouth, enjoying how easily she had given herself to him, craving his touch and she cursed him and her hormones for putting her in such a state. Mustering up enough resistance, she bit his roaming tongue, only to release it in a loud groan as his hand began to rub against her womanhood. Arching her back at the rush of pleasure that flooded her body, she moaned and writhed behind her tormentor. She could feel herself grow hot and wet under his hand, the lips that were once tasting her mouth descending to her breasts, capturing her nipple and suckling the aroused flesh as he lowered her to the floor.

"Oh, Vegita, please." she whimpered out, not knowing if she was asking him to stop of continue. Taking it as an indication of the latter, the Saiyajin Prince removed his mouth from her chest and allowed it join his hand, tasting her other set of lips. It was unstoppable now as Bulma moaned and groaned, all the shame and loathing she had felt before vanished at his touch, and though she knew they would return, even stronger later on that was later, and this was now. And now, Oh sweet Fates, she could feel her body going over the edge, her entire being shaking with the violence of her impeding release. All to be halted as he removed his mouth from her womanhood and leaned over her.

"Remember wench, it is I who are your Master, and I will use you in any manner I see fit. Now, little pet, I wish for you to build me a gravity chamber, one that will go up to one hundred times your pathetic gravity standards. Is that understood?" Vegita commanded and his hand returned to her centre while he buried his head between her breasts. The fear and shame disappeared into longing and want at his renewed touch and she rocked her body against his own, urging him on. He again removed himself from her body and stood over her, lording his self-control over her as he stared down at her trembling aroused body. She couldn't hide the desperation she felt and stared up at his from behind half-lidded eyes, begging him without words to satisfy the need he had given birth to in her body. Chuckling at her state and his victory over her, his eyes swept over her naked body, well pleased with what he saw but made no move towards her. Turning away from her, he walked from the room, Bulma only slightly noticing the strained effort of his walk, trying to look as composed and unaffected as possible. When he had finally left the room, she cried out in shame at her weakness, the look of sadistic pleasure at her state he had given her caused bile to rise up in her throat and it took all the dignity she had not to throw up. Wrapping her arms around her body, trying to gain control of her fragile emotional state only two thoughts circled through her head; she would never allow Vegita to touch her again, and if he did, she would kill him.

* * * * *