"Get off the planet. Now."

Malak stared at the message with unmistakable foreboding. A dozen or so possible meanings fluttered through his mind, none of them good. He squinted anxiously at the screen. The time stamp on it was very, very recent; perhaps it was still possible to find out what Azher had meant by it. Brushing aside a sentry, Malak stormed out of his quarters, making a beeline(or as close as he could get; the palace was a damned maze)for the communications room. Azher had to be there, just had to be…Malak burst into the room and stopped dead.

Azher was not there. An electronic message to King Deoge, eerily similar to the one Malak had received, still flashed on the screen, waiting for the command to send. Dolmit's hand rested on the console, evidently preparing to give that command.

Regrettably, his body was twitching faintly in the opposite corner of the room.

His head was nowhere to be found.

With a deep-throated sound, Malak brushed Dolmit's hand aside. Who had done this? A dissident? One of the shape-shifters?

Azher's marked absence raised a few more sinister possibilities. How Dolmit had come to be involved was anybody's guess, but Malak found the idea of Azher killing him a little difficult to swallow. As near as Malak had been able to tell, the two had been quite civil acquaintances, if not friends. Neither held a higher position in court, so a power struggle seemed unlikely. Malak couldn't really think of much on which they differed…no, wait, perhaps that wasn't quite true.

Did Azher know Dolmit's suspicions about that brat? The so-called power child…to the best of Malak's knowledge, Takira had never revealed the identity of the baby's father. Dolmit had taken that as proof of his theory; Malak, naturally, had been skeptical, but had said no more about it to anyone. Now that he thought about it, he truly had no idea if Azher had known or not. Perhaps Dolmit had told him, they'd disagreed, fought…no. Azher wouldn't have killed him just for that; certainly not in such a gruesome fashion.

Of course, thinking of the child made another, far more frightening prospect possible…

A sharp crackle from one of the speakers nearly sent Malak through the ceiling.

"Checkpoint, this is M24-17, do you read, over." Fumbling over the bloody console, Malak managed to find the proper button.

"This is checkpoint." He paused, not quite sure how to continue.

"Azher?"

"No."

"He's off-duty?"

"He's…not here."

"Are you authorized to record these transmissions?"

"I, ah…hardly think it matters at this point." A long pause.

"Doesn't matter? What the hell is going on down there? Is this another of your damn coups?"

"I'm not sure. Look, I don't know if you've even started your mission, and honestly I don't particularly care. We need to get Deoge off-world…now."

"Hell, bring him here if you want."

"The planet's safe? You already cleared it?" Takira's reply sounded vaguely uneasy.

"It would appear that someone else got here first. They're already dead…every last one of them."

* * * * *

The Agent watched with something approaching concern as Takira stalked about, methodically destroying each and every cold limp corpse. While the apparent extinction of the species was at best to him a minor disappointment, Takira seemed to take it very personally. He'd never seen her so incensed. He'd finally sent her to clean up the bodies just to give her something to dismantle. She'd left Kabu in the ship; the Agent glanced over his shoulder at the open pod. Security hardly mattered on a dead planet, but it didn't hurt to at least look like he was being a little cautious.

A soft snarl carried on the breeze as Takira attacked her next unprotesting victim, tossing the body into the air and neatly halving it with a savage kick. No doubt about it, he thought to himself, something was wrong with that woman…not that he hadn't thought that before. When she was bleeding herself onto Kabu…the Agent's brow knit the slightest fraction. He'd nothing against blood, but the…reverence, for lack of a better word, with which she'd handled it was a little unsettling. The idea of anything that he couldn't touch, couldn't somehow feel, controlling the world around him, well…very nearly distressed him. It was difficult to stay cold and unaffected when one had to fear these so-called gods at work.

And now Cordec…ah, Deoge, he reminded himself hastily…was telling him to keep an eye on her. On Kabu, mostly, as a spirit child, whatever the hell that was. The Agent was willing to admit that Kabu seemed a little beyond normal, but the boy's circumstances were rather unique. There was certain to be a real explanation somewhere without having to bring gods, demons, and spirit lore into the equation.

Personally, the Agent had his own very distinct and to his mind, logical theory about Kabu, but until he could get some sort of confirmation from Takira(and now was definitely not the time to ask, he noted dryly), he kept his own counsel. He'd find out soon enough. Their next destination would certainly clear things up one way or another.

A thump and a soft grunt came from inside the pod. The Agent turned, watching with vague amusement as a very determined-looking Kabu dragged and shuffled himself toward the main hatch. It was slow progress; Kabu seemed to realize this, emitting the occasional high-pitched growl in frustration. The Agent smiled. The kid was certainly tough and stubborn enough to be Saiyajin. Suddenly Kabu looked up and screeched.

The Agent caught movement out of the corner of his eye streaking toward Kabu and lashed out, catching the frantic Changeling by the throat before he'd so much as thought about it. Kabu stared in wide-eyed awe, and for a moment the Agent felt absurdly pleased with himself.

"Heh. Like that trick, brat?" With a half-weary sigh, he turned a bored look on the squirming lizard in his hand.

"Well, congratulations, baka. You found the people who were actually supposed to kill you. Not many would have shown such…dedication to their fate." The Changeling writhed, breath rough as the Agent's hand clamped firmly on his throat.

"Heretic!" he hissed. "Shielding the demon-child! You're the one who did this!!"

'Well, this is interesting.' The Agent glanced briefly at Kabu, who was still staring, jaw agape and tail fuzzed. "How about it, brat? Are you a demon?" Kabu coughed, and the Agent turned back to his prey. "Guess that means no. You must have the wrong kid."

"You'll die for this!! The child must—" He cut off in a wet gasp, eyes rolling down to stare at the katana suddenly protruding from his chest. The Agent jerked back his hand with a soft cry of disgust.

"You got blood on me, bitch! Have a little finesse, will you?" Takira said nothing, savagely jerking the blade out of the gurgling body and knocking the Changeling solidly to the ground.

"No," he whispered harshly, frothing. "Must…kill…the…" He pointed a glowing finger at Kabu, preparing to strike him down…

…and was immediately reduced to a charred heap by twin blasts from Takira and the Agent. Takira looked up at him with a touch of surprise, which he brushed off with a disinterested shrug.

"Couldn't let you have all the fun," he muttered. "After all, if there is only one live one…"

"Right. May I ask what Kabu was doing out here in the first place?"

"He wanted to watch, I guess. What did you want me to do? I'm not his damned caretaker. Put a leash on him if you want him to stay in one place." Evidently choosing to ignore the comment, Takira jabbed her katana casually into the blackened corpse, wrinkling her nose distastefully.

"What was this thing babbling about, anyhow? I thought I caught something about a child…"

"Guess we won't know more than that, will we? He probably would have spilled his guts in you hadn't decided to do it for him."

"Don't lecture me, Baka. You can't make me believe you came here to take prisoners."

"I came—as did you, need I remind you—to find the queen and kill her."

"So, it's a queen, now?" Takira inquired sharply. "How do you know this?"

"The 'babbling' you missed while you were off killing dead things, of course," he replied calmly, coolly returning Takira's narrow-eyed glare. "Oh, stop staring at me like that, you're not fooling anyone. If you're quite done doing autopsies, get back in the ship; we have places to go."

"You really want to go back to Geo? For all we know, it's got a new government by now."

"Not Geo," he said quietly, carefully watching her reaction. "I have some business on Earth that need rather imminent attention. We go there first."

"No."

"No?"

"You are going to Earth, if you must. You will drop me off on the way. I wouldn't want to interfere in your…business." The Agent smiled coldly, rocking back on his heels, hands in his pockets.

"Any particular reason you wish to avoid Earth? I should think you'd like to visit. If your record is accurate, you used to live there, did you not?"

"I stayed there, for a time," Takira snapped. "I'm not avoiding. I just see no purpose in traveling all that way just for the sake of one of your ridiculous errands."

"Oh, of course, that must be it," he said mildly, extracting a low growl from Takira.

"I might ask you what interest you have in Earth, as well," she pointed out. The Agent chuckled.

"An admirable attempt to change the subject."

"And now you're the one avoiding."

"So I am. I suppose that makes us even."

"Hardly," she snorted, peering at him keenly. There was something, something important, right in front of her face…she could feel it. The Agent simply stared back, gaze even and eyes frigid.

"We're leaving," he announced; and with that, turned on his heel and strode back into the pod, scooping Kabu off the floor and pointedly bringing the baby inside with him. Tail lashing furiously, Takira had little choice but to follow.