Dolmit churned with anxiety. Whatever speeches he'd prepared for his audience with Deoge(and in the back of his mind he was sure he'd planned them)were gone and forgotten now. All the confidence and poise he'd practiced dissolved in the face of his unusual summons.

King Deoge wished to speak with him…about Takira's child.

'He either knows, or someone told him my suspicions,' he thought fretfully. 'If he knows, he'll put me in charge of it, and I don't want anywhere near anything that can kill so effortlessly. On the other hand, if he thinks I've been conspiring behind his back, he'll do far worse.' The two unsavory options flipped and spun in Dolmit's uneasy stomach. He found himself wondering if his life would ever have the bland normality he'd cursed so often as a young soldier. What he wouldn't give for a life so dull now…

The sentry caught his eyes and nodded once, his signal. Drawing a deep breath, Dolmit put on his "warrior face": the hard, untouchable expression of one unafraid and ready to die. It didn't seem so long ago that he'd had the warrior's mentality to back it up. Somewhere along the line, death for lord and planet had lost some of its glamour.

As the heavy doors shut behind him, Dolmit halted the prescribed twenty paced form the throne, bowing deeply and feeling grateful that he'd not yet eaten that day; it was not considered polite to vomit at the feet of one's king.

"Dolmit, I am glad you have come," Deoge murmured. "Rise and approach. There is a matter of great importance about which I must speak with you."

"Yes, sire." Dolmit now stood within striking distance of the throne, noting with sudden alarm the old bloodstains on the engraved arms; whose blood was that?

"I will come straight to the point, Dolmit," Deoge sighed. "Takira's offspring is…not normal, even for a race as bizarre as the Saiyajin. Malak has reported to me that the child already possesses a power level equal to our lowest-ranking soldiers. I have consulted all our texts and reports on their race, and such a power level in a baby is all but unheard of.

"There is no doubt that Takira is a flesh-and-blood Saiyajin, but she has steadfastly refused to divulge the identity of the child's father. There was a time when I felt perhaps she simply didn't know, but the longer she protests, the more certain I am that she is hiding something.

"She is, technically, only an employee, and thus is not under my direct control outside of her missions for me, but it has come to my attention that she bears no apparent allegiance to any other planet or ruler. Her own planet and race were destroyed long ago. I fear," he muttered softly, as thought he very walls could hear, "that she may be plotting something. A takeover, perhaps; whenever Kabu comes of age, I suspect he will be a match for most if not all of the Roc.

"I am left with two questions: one, her motives, though I'm sure anything she tries will involve the hypertalented child. Two, I wonder at his parentage; if his father was not Saiyajin, what was he? Not many," he seemed to wince, "species can crossbreed with such success. What race is close enough to the Saiyajin to produce such a child?" Dolmit was about to speak, but Deoge cut him off with a swift gesture.

"I've done some research on the subject and found several possibilities, the most notable of which is the human race, based on Earth. As you are well aware," he said heavily, as though it were a burden to have to state anything so obvious, "she used to live on Earth. It is, therefore, entirely possible that she mated with one of the native humans. However, humankind is weak, pathetically weak, which does nothing to explain the child's power level." He sighed, and Dolmit seized the opportunity, heart in his throat. If he were wrong, he'd almost certainly be killed for it; but if he were right…

"Sire," he said nervously, "there is…another possibility. You were not present on Abeter at the time of the great battle, but afterwards something happened which I think," he emphasized, "may be of great interest to you…" Dolmit hesitated.

With eyes a touch wider and breath a tad faster, Deoge gestured for him to continue.

* * * * *

"You've got to be kidding."

Kaio sighed and twitched his antennae irritably, reminded—not for the first time—of why he didn't not usually allow Vegeta on his planet. It had taken more strength and subterfuge than Kaio could easily stomach to pry the prince from Hell, and now it almost looked like Vegeta wanted nothing more than to return.

Almost.

Vegeta turned and glared at Goten, just as an excuse to look away from the frustrated Kaio. Bubbles and Gregory had hid in the house the moment the imposing warrior had arrived, but Goten had held his ground, though obvious second thoughts crossed his face as he wilted under Vegeta's stare.

"Don't worry about him, Vegeta, he's nothing to do with this," Kaio snapped, his usual humor rapidly slipping away. "The fact of the matter is, I'm not kidding. I wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of sneaking you up here if I were kidding." Vegeta looked unconvinced.

"All the trouble? You're a god, aren't you? How hard can it be?"

"It is hard, let's just leave it at that. I may be a Kaio, but there are still rules, statutes…" Vegeta snorted, plainly unimpressed.

"I though the reason you called me here was to dispense with those statutes."

"Not dispense with them, for they do serve a purpose; just to…work around them a bit. You've shown a marked talent in that area."

"When it pleases me to do so," Vegeta answered flatly, "but I'd hardly considered it as a profession."

"This is hardly a professional job."

"Meaning I get no compensation for my trouble, is that right?"

"There is little I could do for you; I'm constrained by rules of no interference, and as a damned soul, you're not in a good position for receiving anything. Ideally, you'd be doing this out of the goodness of your heart, but if you can think of some form of compensation that wouldn't put both of us in hot water, I'll see what I can do."

Vegeta nodded and frowned for a moment, deep in thought. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he looked back at Kaio there was something in them Kaio had not seen before.

"First," Vegeta said quietly, "I need a certain piece of information."

"Yes?" Vegeta glance around self-consciously, again glaring at Goten.

"Can we take this someplace else? I don't really feel like talking in front of the brat here." Kaio smiled.

"We don't have to move a muscle." Vegeta blinked as the telepathic link fell into place. "See? A private line." Kaio chuckled at his own nearly-a-joke. "Now what was your question?"

The rest of the exchange Goten could only attempt to guess from watching the two, and it was impossible. Vegeta was unreadable as always, and even Kaio managed to maintain a poker face throughout. Goten jumped as they suddenly returned to normal speech.

"It's done, then?" Kaio asked, and Vegeta nodded. Goten could hold back no longer.

"What? What's done? What's he going to do?"

"He's going to…ah, sneak around the underworlds and see if he can locate Goku."

"You mean Kakarot," Goten snickered. Vegeta smirked.

"Believe it or not, kid, I've done a little searching on my own time, and I can tell you this much: Kakarot's not there." With a nod to Kaio, he crossed his arms over his chest and disappeared in a burst of ki.

"But…but…" Goten stuttered. "Was that it? What's he going to do now? He said he already…"

"I know what he said," Kaio interrupted softly. Goten babbled on, confused, but Kaio felt oddly satisfied, as though one piece of a complex puzzle had just fallen into place.

It was, in retrospect, what he'd suspected all along.