"Man, can you feel those power levels?" Goten breathed.

"It's difficult not to," Trunks muttered. "We'd better move. I'll bet my life she's there." The trio sped forward, trying to pinpoint the sources of ki. As they approached the battlefield, they caught their first glimpse of the two airborne combatants.

"Those must be Denatu and Degradu. But I can feel three ki--no, wait, just two," said Gohan. "Just the two of them? Where the hell is Takira?"

"She's down there," Trunks answered. "She just hid from us; a little too late." He frowned. "Those shape-shifters are going to cause trouble, though."

"Nothing we can't handle," Goten boasted heartily. Gohan shot him a warning look and returned his gaze to the battle at hand.

"Let's stay out of their way for now. They seem bent on destroying each other; who are we to interfere?"

"I certainly won't mind having one less of them to deal with," Trunks said. "Let's see if we can locate Takira and make sure she's okay." Gohan and Goten nodded and they split up, keeping most of their attention focused on the two shape-shifters in case they decided to attack.

Goten trod over the ruptured soil in a half-crouch, nervous despite the shape-shifters' apparent ignorance of his presence. He thought he heard something whistling through the air, and suddenly Takira's booted foot connected with his head, toppling him forcefully to the ground. She was on him in an instant, one fist knotted in his unruly hair, the other pressed hard on his throat.

"Takira!" he sputtered, choking, "It's me! Goten! I know you're mad, but for kami's sake, don't kill me!" Her grip on him tightened.

"How do I know you're Goten? Why did you come here?"

'Shit,' he thought, 'She thinks I'm a shape-shifter. I should have known--'

"I don't know how I can prove to you who I am," he said, "but I can tell you why I'm here. I'm here because ever since you told us off we've been tracking you down; because Trunks wasn't about to let you go." Goten's voice softened. "We were going to do as you asked, Takira, but he had other ideas. We've come to take you back." Takira released her hold on him and pulled away, shaking her head.

"I--I can't--I--"

"If you want to argue," Goten interrupted, pointing behind her, "take it up with him." Takira turned and scrambled to her feet as she recognized Trunks. Trunks cringed as though expecting an attack; when none came, he slowly relaxed, releasing a tense sigh. Takira stared at him.

"Why?" she asked finally. Trunks closed his eyes, thinking frantically. He needed a reason--suddenly he smiled and looked her in the eye.

"Because you've yet to beat me at a swordfight," he murmured. Takira looked stunned for a moment, then broke into a tearful grin.

"Fair enough," she whispered. "We'll have to take care of that later, though. We have a couple shape-shifters to deal with." Something struck the ground behind them with a hollow thump, rolling to a stop. Degradu's lifeless eyes glared up at them. "Strike that last thought," Takira muttered. "We have one shape-shifter to deal with."

"I trust that will be sufficient to keep you entertained?" came a cold voice from above. The three young warriors stepped back as Denatu landed, casually kicking his brother's severed head aside. Ignoring Trunks and Goten, he addressed Takira directly.

"You are no longer in my brother's employ; I doubt if you ever were. If you do not resist me, I will consider Deoge to have fulfilled his end of the bargain, and I will leave the Roc in peace. Stand against me, and they will die."

"Deoge? Bargain?" Takira looked, baffled, at Goten, then Trunks.

"Deoge is the king of the Roc," Trunks explained. "He sent a ship full of soldiers to retrieve you as part of a bargain with Denatu. Unfortunately, Mehat got to you first."

"You dealt with Mehat and I, Degradu," Denatu continued, "so things are at last as they should have been. You will return with me to my palace and join my royal guard; I, in turn, shall require some portion of you for--my own benefit. If you do not comply, the destruction of the Roc will follow, in addition to those events I just mentioned. The decision is yours."

"Can't you take what you need and let me go?"

"Go? There's no going back, now, you can only move forward. Moreover, the path you are to take is predestined; all you decide is whether or not it is bathed in innocent blood. Forget these shadows of the past," he urged, dismissing Trunks and Goten with a flick of his hand, "they cannot help you; only cause you pain. Let them go. Come with me."

"Don't do it, Takira," Trunks said under his breath. Denatu lashed out, catching him unprepared. The shape-shifter dealt Trunks a heavy blow to the face; Trunks' head snapped back as he was thrown into the air. Quickly he caught himself and landed on his feet a few yards away.

"Thank you, Denatu," Takira hissed icily, "You have made my decision for me. I will fight." Denatu's eyes narrowed.

"Then the blood of an entire race will be upon your hands!" he pronounced. Gohan's jaw clenched, but Takira just smiled faintly.

"Beneath this body, I'm a Saiyan, Denatu. Your threat means nothing to me." Trunks stepped forward to stand beside her again.

"She won't be fighting alone, either," he advised Denatu. "You still have the option of letting her go peacefully."

"No," Gohan said quietly. Goten stared at his brother, astonished. Gohan continued in the same soft, threatening tone. "I won't have them killed. You had your chance to let us go; when you made that threat you crossed the line." Denatu stepped back, looking somber.

"So be it. I'll fight her first," he said, nodding toward Takira. With a quick glance at her comrades, she rose into the air. As Denatu rose to meet her, she transformed and adopted a fighting posture, bathed in silver light. Denatu looked mildly surprised, but unimpressed. Suddenly he streaked forward, fist raised, and Takira lunged to meet his attack.

The battle had begun.

*****

Cordec stumbled blindly through the palace, trying to get his bearings. His father had never brought him here; now Cordec wished, not for the first time, that he had. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. It had taken much of his energy to dig himself out and fly to the palace, but he was recovering quickly, an there were things he wished to collect before he fled. 'But why flee? If they kill each other, who else could stand against me? I could--no, forget it. I want to part of it; I will not be drawn into this tangled web. This is my opportunity, and I'm taking it; I'm getting the hell out of here.' He forced himself to walk again.

Wandering down the hallway past rows of doors, he heard something coming from one of the room. A voice; no, two, talking about his father. He crept to the doorway and stood next to it, listening.

"Look, do you want me to go out there myself and see what's happening? I'm staying as far away as I can. If I could find a damned pod, I'd be back on Geo right now."

"Surely you must know something, Azher," Dolmit's voice crackled from the speaker. "Has any of them returned? Have you heard or felt anything?"

"None are back yet, but I daresay they just arrived. There was a huge explosion a little while ago, but not much since then."

"Do you think it's over?"

"No," Azher sighed, "We'd never be so lucky."

"Lucky? A shipful of warriors destroyed, our race already decimated, and those two maniacs fighting over who gets to kill us first? We'll be 'lucky' if we get out of this alive!" Azher's reply was abruptly choked off as something thick and heavy wrapped around his neck.

"Not your lucky day, is it?" his attacker murmured. Dolmit's voice came again.

"Azher? Azher, are you still there?"

The transmission cut off abruptly as Azher's body slammed into the console.