Nearly there…Gohan stared at the screen in front of him, only half-seeing. Soon they'd reach Abeter and find out for sure if Trunks' assumption was correct…assuming they didn't get killed in the process. Gohan, optimist though he tried to be, couldn't help recalling the results of their last encounters with the shape-shifting race. Mordrig they'd only beaten when Takira took him by surprise…and they simply couldn't depend upon half-dead fusion and alien interference to save them again.

Trunks didn't seem outwardly concerned, but Gohan couldn't help but note that his companion spent virtually every waking hour training in the library. Judging by the condition of the place the few times Gohan had ventured inside, Trunks was pushing both himself and the structural integrity of the room to their absolute limits. Whether this was meant as preparation or escape Gohan couldn't tell, and dared not guess. Trunks seemed…unpredictable lately.

Now, that wasn't quite true. His behavior was predictable enough in its own rite, just…wasn't like Trunks. When had he turned so cold? Gohan couldn't honestly remember…and that made him wonder if he were somehow responsible. It could be argued that by attacking Takira, Gohan drove her away and left Trunks in the lurch…Gohan certainly hadn't been there to defend or mend his actions; even before he'd run off into the desert he'd rarely allowed himself the company of friends or family for fear of another episode.

That in itself wasn't so damning…after all, Trunks had always turned to Goten for support. Goten, however, was far from comforting at the time. Son Goku could always be counted on in times of duress, but he'd died of the same wasting disease that had later taken Vegeta. Trunks had been alone, in his own way wandering as aimlessly as Gohan had been. Their mutually exclusive suffering, instead of serving as some pained common ground, instead seemed to drive them further apart.

A more suspiciously cynical mind would have blamed Takira for it, but since the voice had left him, Gohan slowly lost his confidence in that theory. Emotional as he sometimes was, Gohan could force logic and elemental objectivity when the situation demanded it. In the back of his mind he made himself repeat over and over that it wasn't her fault.

Someday, he thought bitterly, he might convince his more emotional mind to actually accept that assertion. He couldn't put a finger on it, but despite all logic, he couldn't shake a sense of foreboding when he thought of Takira…

Trunks strode in, freshly showered, cleanly dressed, and still a bit flushed from his workout. He nodded politely to Gohan.

"Anything notable while I was gone?"

"No," Gohan sighed. "Completely uneventful, but I'm glad you're out. We'll reach Abeter in just a few hours…we're passing over Geo now." Trunks grunted in reply, stretching and sparing a quick glance for the screen.

"Well, if we've still got time I could…" He grimaced. "Ah, never mind. Did you want to train at all before we land, Gohan?"

"Actually, I may use the library as a library," Gohan murmured. "Have you read the files Mordrig stored in there? Even if you can't make out all he wrote—and he was rushed enough that you really can't—there's some incredible information in there."

"You already looked through it?"

"Not all of it, no…that would take far longer than we have here. I checked a few of the files, those races familiar to us."

"Saiyajin, Roc…"

"Changeling," Gohan filled in. "And that one was extremely interesting."

"How so?" Trunks asked, looking half-interested.

"Well, for one, it seems 'Changeling' isn't their proper name…at least not the name they use themselves. Mordrig made a brief note of that and then proceeded to call them Changelings throughout the rest of the file…and it's a huge file. Either he forgot about the name change or he just didn't like them; I am inclined to believe the latter."

"Why?"

"Because of the content of the remainder of the file…did you know, Trunks, that the shape-shifters were once a major threat to King Cold's empire?" Trunks raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"I find it fascinating…this file is not only more coherent than the others, it's longer. I think this was more than relived memories…I think Mordrig knew some of this himself and wrote it out just to complete the file.

"You recall what that Roc told us last time we were here…about Proteas and his two sons?"

"Yes…"

"Well, he didn't give us the full story. Proteas wasn't just a rebel, he was king. King Cold never actually met with him…Freiza did."

"What's so unusual about that? You met Freiza before you'd even heard of Cold."

"Ah, but at the time he met with Proteas and the young princes, Freiza was not heir to Cold's empire…in fact, Cold had only publicly recognized Freiza as his son a year before." Gohan smiled wanly. "I'd always held that Freiza was a bastard…turns out I was right."

"The almighty Freiza was illegitimate?" Trunks asked with a cool smile.

"Entirely so. His mother had been a servant of King Cold and had kept her pregnancy secret until Freiza was born; she then presented him to his father and demanded a position at court as Cold's second wife or consort.

"King Cold was having none of that. After all, he had Coola, and the low-born brat was of little use to him. Freiza grew up knowing who he was, but living as one of those he was supposed to lord over. His mother instilled in him the assertion that he was genetically superior to all others of his race by virtue of his mixed bloodlines; the royal blood, she insisted, was weak on its own. By the time he came of age Freiza was determined to rule at his father's side, if only to kill him later. Cold, for whatever reason, recognized him and put him on a sort of probation…to see if he was worthy."

"So Freiza meant to conquer Abeter as proof of his abilities."

"In a nutshell. He tried the direct approach with what small army his father had allocated him, and was rather decisively rebuffed. He then tried to bribe Proteas."

"What did he offer? A position in Cold's army? A planet or two?" Gohan shook his head, biting his lip.

"Believe it or not, Freiza offered him…"

"Identify yourself immediately," hissed a harsh voice from the console. Gohan blinked, surprised, and Trunks frowned, stabbing at the transmit button.

"Perhaps you'd best introduce yourself first. To whom am I speaking?" Trunks could hear faintly an excited voice in the background.

"This is checkpoint on Geo, and we're screening all craft that come within range. Please identify yourself." Trunks cast a glance at Gohan; probably couldn't do any harm…

"Trunks Briefs and Son Gohan," he answered shortly, and was startled by a joyous cry coming from the speaker. There were some abrupt rustling sounds and whoever had been talking was abruptly cut off.

"Trunks, Trunks it's me!!" Goten shouted, his over-enthusiastic greeting making the speakers hiss and crackle. "You guys have to land now…I hitched a ride off of Abeter and now I'm here. Is Gohan there? Can he hear me?" Trunks looked over at Gohan…the elder half-Saiyajin was hunched over in his chair, hands clutched to his face, tears running warmly between his fingers.

"Yes," Trunks murmured, looking away. "He can hear you just fine. Give us some coordinates to work off of and we'll be right down."

* * * * *

Goten fairly well bounced off the walls as Azher moped around the communications room, muttering about the amount of blood caking the controls and the fact that it now smelled like a slaughterhouse. Juunanagou wrinkled his nose in mild distaste and slouched in the corner, arms crossed, somewhere between bored and hair-trigger.

He'd felt it when Malak died. The final stage was beginning…he had to keep an eye on Azher at least. Goten wouldn't pose too much of a problem, and if anything provided excellent leverage against Gohan. Trunks…well, Trunks could be trouble, but last Juunanagou had been aware, Vegeta's son was still weak enough to be broken if it came to that.

He'd been waiting for the inevitable call from the Changeling planet, but so far the lines were silent. Either Takira was foolishly optimistic enough to think she didn't need backup, or she was dead. That or Cordec was interfering; didn't matter…he'd take care of this himself. It was now a matter of waiting for the last two elements.

Juunanagou suppressed a dry chuckle. He hadn't told Goten about Takira's part in this. He'd introduce her when the time came; if his suspicions were true, the meeting should prove…highly amusing, to say the least. After all, if Takira was this neurotic now, just think…

Goten stopped his pacing and bolted out into the hallway. Juunanagou and Azher exchanged a brief questioning look, shrugged, and followed. Azher quickly turned back, growling brusquely about leaving the com unit unattended…he looked embarrassed. Raising an eyebrow, Juunanagou looked ahead to the warm—if desperate—welcome under way.

Gohan had Goten clutched in a bear hug fit to break the boy's ribs, his face pulled tight in an expression close to pain. Goten, effectively pinned, did his feeble best to return the embrace, murmuring comforts to his brother. Trunks stood at attention behind them; if he was surprised at Juunanagou's presence, he have no sign, merely pinned the android with a steady cold glare.

Juunanagou returned Trunks' gaze evenly, searching his eyes until he'd found what he wanted, then graced Trunks with a joyless smile and looked away, waiting for Gohan and Goten to let go long enough to board a ship.

It was time to get this final stage underway.