Jeice flew headlong in the direction he'd chosen, no clear goal or coherent thought in his mind. Some foolishly logical part of him was trying to piece together what had just happened, what was to happen next. He'd been endangering his friends, and now…well, now he wasn't. So…that must mean his decision had been correct. What to do now, he was not sure…wouldn't matter for several more hours, at least. That was plenty of time. For now he could afford to succumb to confusion.

Good thing, too…gods, when had life become so involved? He could be herding bovines now…training with his comrades…but no, he had to live the exciting life. On the run without know whither or from whom, striving boldly for…well, he hadn't figured that out yet. At least he had his purpose, right?

Hell with purpose.

Okay, so what did he have? Long thought yielded only himself and Cheada, and Cheada refused to recognize him. Jeice sighed. There were times when he wondered if he even had himself to fall back on. Didn't matter…safety and sanity, he was coming to understand, were overrated to begin with.

Jeice was still feeling inexplicably cold; well, not quite cold, just…something wasn't right. The feeling was fading now, thankfully; perhaps it had been some sort of signal that it was time for him to leave. Of course, he'd never believed in such things before…but there was little enough for him to believe in that oracles and omens were a welcome distraction. After all, there was no one around to tell him he was being foolish.

A heaping blot of smoke marked the air ahead, broiling. It didn't look like a forest fire…the wind shifted and Jeice gagged. Didn't smell like one, either. Difficult to say what was going on; Rennet wasn't usually given to uprisings…

Jeice froze as he saw two tiny figures approaching at a rate decidedly abnormal for Rennet's populace. Straining his eyes, he expected to see Cheada, Mojak, or both. How had they anticipated him? More importantly, what would they do when they caught up with him? Jeice's stomach churned and before he was even aware of having panicked, found himself tearing through the air in a new direction.

It was the signal his pursuers had been waiting for since they'd first spotted him. Instantly the two kis flared and Jeice began slowly, slowly losing ground. Veering dangerously low, he careened into a stand of trees…nice strategy but for the strength of all involved. Jeice clipped a thick trunk and shattered it; moments later the rest exploded around him, cutting and burning his skin, smoke choking his lungs and clogging his eyes. Coughing, he raised an arm to shield his eyes; had to blink, just for a second…

A bright explosion of pain, blinding, lanced through him as he struck unyielding stone. Even as his frantic mind sought to regain itself his body crumpled and fell, blessed weightlessness ending in a jarring thud before silence took Jeice completely.

* * * * *

Ghud was even with him now; in fact, almost pulling ahead, as though to drag him faster. Camber knew too well what that meant; he was falling behind…but his body simply couldn't press any faster. He forced himself to meet Ghud's worried eyes.

"Go," he called hoarsely. Ghud frowned and kept his pace, pretending not to have heard. Camber snarled and swerved far enough to slug Ghud in the arm. As Ghud turned to glare at him, Camber stabbed a finger ahead of them, scowling. Ghud stiffened and shook his head. Camber's face twisted in frustration…damned idiot was going to get himself killed…

Thus absorbed and thus distracted, Camber was unaware of Suiz's sudden presence before him until the two collided heavily, tumbling planetward. Suiz caught himself…Ghud clutched Camber to his chest, for the moment ignoring the other's squirming and elaborately crude verbal protests. Suiz, panting, glared at them both with bleary eyes.

"Just how far did you think you were going to get?" he exclaimed, weary and exasperated beyond belief.

"As far as we could," Camber muttered, and bashed Ghud in the ribs with a sharp elbow. Ghud gasped and dropped him, and after a moment Camber resumed altitude, wobbling badly.

"You're welcome," Ghud coughed, fingering his ribs. Camber ignored him…or tried to, placing himself between Ghud and Suiz. Staring straight at Camber, Suiz addressed instead the younger man.

"So what's your part in this, Ghud? Somehow I'd never figured you for a defector."

"I just wanted out," Ghud murmured, shaking his head.

"And this was an opportunity."

"Yes."

"Do you know why this opportunity came up now?" Suiz asked shrewdly. A long silence.

"No," Ghud answered slowly, face tight. Suiz sighed and tried to edge around Camber again.

"Ghud, you know what's going on more than you'll admit, but you don't know everything…"

"Neither to you, baka," Camber growled. "You can play superior all you want, but it's all a bluff, isn't it? You don't have a damned clue what's happening, but you've managed to make that less important than what you think you believe in."

"This isn't about belief. It's about—"

"Right and wrong?" Camber cut in mincingly.

"Too late for that," Suiz retorted. "It's about damage control, now."

"What's been damaged?" Ghud asked quietly, feeling somehow the interloper in this conversation.

"Damaged? What's been damaged?!" Suiz shouted suddenly, startling even Camber. "Ask me what's been destroyed! Dismantled! Because you, how couldn't see a damned thing beyond the compound walls, suddenly decided you knew what was best for race and planet! You have no idea what you've ruined here."

"Nice of you to inform us now," Camber hissed. "You knew what we were thinking long before it came to this."

"I couldn't say anything before," Suiz said despondently. Camber snorted.

"Well, you're doing a fine job of it now that it doesn't matter. Congratulations."

"Please stop it," Ghud interjected, looking back and forth desperately. "Suiz…what can we do?"

"Find Jeice…get him someplace safe until this has blown over and hope Rennet comes out of it intact."

"But what'll happen to him?"

"It doesn't matter!! We just have to find him before—"

Suiz never got the chance to complete the thought.

* * * * *

"So what did he say?"

Cold's insectoid guard managed once again to restrain himself from blasting this pest, if for no better reason than keeping the floor clean.

"His Majesty thanks you for bringing the situation to his attention," the guard muttered tersely. "He will see to it that ample advantage is taken of the unrest."

"And once things are settled he will send me back?" Dalwen asked. That had, after all, been a major point in his negotiations; this fool had better have relayed his instructions carefully…

"You will be taken care of, yes."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Those were King Cold's words, sir," the guard spat, mandibles clicking. "I am not imperious enough to interpret." Dalwen glared.

"How dare you," he said lowly. "I am not imperious; I am a king and I require clear answers." The guard straightened, eyeing Dalwen coolly. Clearly and distinctly:

"You are not my king."

Dalwen snarled and suddenly found himself looking down the barrel of an unpleasant-looking weapon.

"You wouldn't…"

"Quite correct," the insect retorted. "Your execution should be the exclusive right of your new lord and sovereign."

"Lord and—Cold is going to make me his servant?!"

The guard may have smiled; with certain faces one could never be sure.

"No." Dalwen shifted, angry and more than a little anxious. He'd been so sure the Changelings would treat him as an equal; from what he'd heard of their rise to power, their ethics(or lack thereof)reflected his own almost precisely. Had Dalwen been reasoning clearly, that train of thought would have led directly to the quite-logical reason for him not to approach them.

No despot worth his salt would pay for assistance which so freely offered itself.

"You're not about to be killed," the guard commented at the sight of Dalwen's paling face. "Merely transferred. You'd best lose that royal edge and learn fealty. Your new lord is not likely to tolerate impertinence."

"You…you said Cold wasn't…"

"That is what I said." Dalwen pursed his lips, trying to summon the energy to fume.

"Are you strictly forbidden from speaking plainly, or do you simply indulge in this as a hobby?" Instead of replying, the guard turned his head to the side at a sharp bleep from his scouter; quickly, he turned it off.

"Your answers, sir, will have to wait," he said, stepping aside. Dalwen blinked, confused, as the airlock slid open; and rather than the hulking behemoth he'd expected, Dalwen found himself faced with a short, trim…and overall pink individual, smirking like a cruel child given a new toy to break. Before Dalwen could open his mouth, the short one snapped:

"You will hereafter address me as Lord Freiza!"