As a shape-shifter, Denatu was not easily impressed by transformations, but this technique was exceptional. Where once two warriors had stood, now was only one, a curious hybrid-like blend. He was of average height and strong build, clad in loose-fitting pants and a strange vest. His hair was gold, sticking out and down in front(much like that of the younger warrior), while the thick shock in back rose straight up like a bright flame. The halo no longer seemed to be present, though Denatu thought he could see a faint outline of it, an after-image. The warrior made no move to speak, so at last Denatu broke the silence.

"What is your name? I like to know who I'm killing."

"Trugeta," he said simply. Denatu couldn't place the voice either. Strange. "Are you ready to die?" Denatu snorted.

"I'm ready to fight. I was ready before, but you seemed to experience--technical difficulties. I trust you've worked those out?" No sooner had the words passed his lips, than he found himself doubled over Trugeta's arm. A kick in the jaw straightened him out and he stumbled backwards. Trugeta smirked.

"It would appear," he said, addressing Denatu's question, "that I have. Shall we?"

"Bring it on." Denatu managed to block the first wave of attacks, but suddenly Trugeta broke through his defenses, landing several punches to the head, and a solid kick in the chest that sent the shape-shifter flying. Still airborne, Denatu saw Trugeta coming for him; instead of attempting a counter-attack, he dodged and sped away, buying some time to power up. Looking over his shoulder, Denatu nearly flew smack into Trugeta, who floated before him, a gloating smile on his face.

"You look so surprised, Denatu. What's troubling you?" he chided.

"How did your power increase so quickly? You couldn't even hit me before; you shouldn't be any stronger than the boy."

"Strength is not measured purely by the physical body, baka." Evidently it was Vegeta doing most of the talking. "Even a spirit can manipulate ki, and therein lies the bulk of my power." Denatu recalled when Vegeta had first appeared.

'He did stop my attack; he must have used a ki shield, without a solid body. He blocked that attack with ki alone?! Who is this guy?' Denatu glared at Trugeta, and for an ill-considered moment, allowed himself to acknowledge the fear he'd been holding back. Urgent desperation seized him in a stranglehold, as reason and control failed him.

"NO!" he screamed, launching ball after ball of ki, "I won't let you win! You will not take this from me!!" All his plans, his father's plans, the future of his people, were at stake. Failure was unthinkable.

Denatu broke off his attack, swerving as Trugeta reflected one of his ki spheres back at him, swiftly followed by one of Trugeta's own attacks. Denatu barely managed to dodge the ki, and completely failed to block an incoming kick. It caught him in the lower back, pain shooting up and down his spine as his body curved in an agonized arc, plummeting. Denatu opened his eyes to see Trugeta waiting for him on the ground. With a roar, Denatu launched his Fire Slash Attack; Trugeta leaped aside and Denatu struck the ground in a handspring, landing lightly on his feet.

Trugeta had escaped mostly unscathed, but one of his pant legs was burnt, and a trickle of blood traced from the corner of his mouth. He frowned, not bothering to wipe it away. His concentration was focused solely on the battered overlord who was now brimming with rage. Denatu fought with his animal instinct to simply throw himself into another attack; he held back, waiting to see what Trugeta would do next.

Trugeta stalked up to him and Denatu forced himself to hold his ground. The two stared eye-to-eye for a moment, and faster than Denatu could follow, Trugeta slapped him across the face; not hard enough to do anything more than sting, just enough to insult. Denatu growled as Trugeta stepped back again.

"That," Trugeta said, "was for holding back. I know you have more power than that. At least have the decency to give me some challenge before I kill you." Denatu bowed his head; there was no avoiding it now.

"You leave me no choice, then. You wish to see the ultimate warrior? Very well. It will be the last thing you ever look upon." Trugeta looked unconvinced. Resisting the urge to dash that indolent smirk from the fusion's face, Denatu concentrated his energy on his final transformation. He used his ki to support his body as it turned nearly liquid. Fear hastened his movements; he was more vulnerable in this state than he'd been in his first form, but there was no way to get around it. He needed to call upon every technique learned or absorbed, every feature of every form in his body's prodigious memory. He hated to expose himself to attack, but that Saiyan seemed cocky enough to sit back and wait for his promised opponent. 'Oh, you'll get all you wanted and more--'

Some distance away, Gohan stumbled to his feet, reeling drunkenly.

"To hell with this," he muttered. "Somebody's got to attack him--" A hard hand fell on his shoulder and he nearly toppled.

"Sit your ass down before I knock it down, fool," Azher growled. "You're in no condition to fight.."

"I can't just sit back and watch--" The Roc's solid fist slammed into his head and Gohan crumpled to the ground.

"Hmph. That wasn't so hard. Poor idiot was about to go down all by himself." Azher sighed and glared at the molten shape-shifter. "Well, if it's all I have to look forward to--I'd better get this over with."

*****

'Great. Just great. Everything I ever learned about strategy, I've apparently forgotten. What the hell am I doing? Azher's not going to be any help. Hell, he's probably dead by now--that's what you get when you face death head-on. Of course, all I managed to do was buy myself some time, and precious little of that.

'I can remember a day when wars were fought face-to-face, they were fought fairly, and if you died, you died as a warrior should. Now, it's not even a war, not really--just a series of sniper attacks. Subterfuge, spies, defectors--where was I when the Roc were siding with the shape-shifters?' Dolmit released a hissing sigh as he flew.

'I was on M45-SP3 with the Roc's finest warriors, all dead now, in pursuit of the one and only shape-shifter who had nothing to do with this debacle.' He still didn't truly understand it, any of it. 'Hindsight isn't perfect after all; it's only compared with how blind we are to present and future that it looks so clear.' He grunted. 'Now I'm getting all philosophical. The end really * must * be near.' He felt strangely unconcerned. The closer he came to the battlefield, the less life seemed to matter.

Thus, it was in a very relaxed state of mind that he spied Azher stumbling from his airspeeder. He looked anxious, angry, beaten--yet possessed of some sense of purpose which drove him on. Dolmit swiftly joined him, noting the relief on Azher's face. 'Yes, friend, we'll all die, but none of us dies alone--'

No words were exchanged, only terse nods as the two weakened warriors turned toward their objective. Denatu was still far from finished.

'--or,' Dolmit thought, 'a good deal closer to it.'

*****

'All told, this is not as interesting as I'd hoped.' Trugeta sighed, debating whether or not to allow Denatu to complete his transformation. The more he thought about it, the less likely it seemed that the challenge of Denatu's new form would be worth the time spent waiting.

'If nothing else, this fusion isn't permanent. It won't take long to finish him off, but if my time runs out before he's done transforming--perhaps I'd better put the poor deluded fool out of his misery.' Trugeta unfolded his arms, preparing to attack, when he noticed two Roc marching resolutely toward Denatu. 'Now just what the hell do they think they're doing? Hmph. Well, if they want to fight him, fine. I'll clean up when they're done.' Re-crossing his arms, Trugeta stood back to watch the show.

*****

'Just a few more minutes in this crate.' Malak shut his eyes, working to maintain his focus. He had no idea what awaited him when he landed; he had to be ready for the fight of his life. A loud voice shattered his concentration.

'Sir! Sir!!" Whoever it was, he was obviously not familiar with the communications system; it was sensitive enough to pick up a normal speaking voice quite adequately.

"Don't shout, I can hear you fine. What is it?"

"Deoge is healed, sir; they're getting him out of the tank now. Did you still wish to speak with him?"

'Discuss the future of our race over the damned intercom, on an open line anyone could tap--'

"When I get back, I'll talk to him personally. Lock him up for now."

"Right, sir. I'll--" He broke off mid-sentence. Malak could hear a crash, then screams in the background.

"What the hell is going on over there?"

"Sorry, sir, but I think I'd better--" The transmission died. Malak did not attempt to re-establish contact; he had a gut feeling that they had more important things to deal with.

'Forget about it for now. I'll have to take care of it when I get back, but only if I don't get killed on Abeter. There's no pointing in looking much beyond your next fight if it's also your last.'