Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ. I'm just using it as a medium for my perverted fantasies.

At Odds

A/N The prequel to this story can be read at my website which is listed on my bio.

Chapter One

Ding Dong the Wicked Dick is Dead

The evil tyrant Frieza was dead. The news spread across the universe like a brushfire, jumping from world to world to galaxy to galaxy. Entire civilizations raised their arms to the heavens, waving like fields of wheat as they howled praises to the gods for freeing them from a miserable life of enslavement. People danced in the streets, their jubilation echoing through space, striking fear into the hearts of the remaining emissaries of Frieza.

Planet wide galas ensued, eventually overflowing to nearby space stations and starbases. Warriors forced to serve Frieza, threw down their weapons, shredding their armor from their bodies. They rushed home to their last remaining loved ones, indulging in the taste of sweet liberty that had so long been denied to them.

Sons returned victorious to the waiting arms of their mothers, daughters whose tenderness was ripped away bowed their heads in shame in front of their fathers. The memories of their life before the warlord were dim and shadowy while the nightmares of their time serving the whims of a madman were fresh and bloody. They tilled the soil of their lands beside their brothers and tended the family businesses with their sisters, but forever the blood lust throbbed beneath their skin. Home no longer held the allure it once did and their joy was tainted by the knowledge that they would never be able to wash off the thick coating of blood on their hands.

Happiness rippled out through the universe and victory songs were sung in every corner, from dingy asteroid way stations to shinning palace halls. The sick laughter of elation drove people to the heights of ecstasy. It whipped them into a frenzy of retribution as they drank deeply from the pool of freedom.

Citizens breached the walls of government buildings on their home planets, hunting down the false rulers that Frieza had appointed to watch over his subjects. Entire families were slaughtered without remorse, their pleading falling on deaf ears. Their only crime was that of forced obedience to their master, doing his will onto others. Long forgotten kings and exiled princes returned home, claiming their thrones still awash with the blood of their predecessors. Many who took reins of power had no idea what it meant to rule, but they knew what it meant to yearn. They proclaimed far and wide their heritage, citing their patrimony like it was solemn prayer.

Neighboring planets that had lived in peace under Frieza's control began to feud as they did before the coming of the warlord's law. Ancient wounds reopened and the rancid puss of resentment began to flow freely without the cauterizing heat of tyranny. Entire worlds burned as wars raged throughout the universe and hate ran rampant, unchecked by a steady hand of leadership. Chaos stampeded through space like a frightened animal as entire galaxies broke away from the federation, rebelling against the leash that they had previously strained under. The economies crashed without planetary trade and soon the innocent people began to cower in fear once again, but not from the oppression of a distant lord, but from the cruelty of their own brainless leaders.

The sons and daughters felt their skins itch as their blood boiedl with madness. Little girls stood over the dead bodies of the fathers who tried to force them back into the role of domestication, ignoring their warrior's training and scarred souls. Sweet boys stared at their broken mothers, relieving every moment of horror they had wrought while serving their twisted master. The last of the soldiers broke away from their battalions, raiding helpless worlds that no longer had the protection of the mandatory military. Lawless pirates roamed the byways of space, hunting the remaining merchant vessels and scavenging off the rotting carcass of the fallen empire. Survivor rabble, those who had lived through the purgings banded together and invaded the invaders, conquering their own worlds, trying to win back their blood-drenched lands.

In a distant part of space, beyond the borders of the known universe a black heart began to pulse. Evil writhed, twisting and turning in on itself, slithering like a nest of snakes. Its cold eyes turned towards the crumbling empire, watching as innocent blood spilled through the streets and the sovereignty burned to ash. It listened with cold detachment to the screams that found their way to its sensitive ears, fury and expectation budding in its chest.

As the realm collapsed the current monarch was engaged in a battle that he could not possibly win. Dread unfurled in the pit of his belly as he was goaded onto a path that led to certain defeat.

"Please Vegeta." Bulma wheedled. She was kneeling between his legs, her hands clasped in front of her naked chest that glistened with droplets of moisture.

"No." He growled. He was leaning against the rim of the bathtub, damning himself for ever mentioning to the wench that he had obtained the legendary. He had been relaxing, nearly drifting off to sleep as Bulma lay on his chest, contentedly soaping her long legs. He had been running the events of the last few weeks through his head, when he latched onto the proudest moment in his life. His transformation.

"Pretty please!" With every word her body bounced, causing her luscious breasts partially obscured from his view to jiggle and water to swirl against the tub walls.

"I said no, woman." As soon as he had muttered the words about his change she had whirled around in the tub, slopping water over the edge while her eyes glowed with pleasure. The bright white of her smile had nearly blinded him and he was taken aback by her sheer joy at his words. He tried to form his features into a scowl, but he couldn't stop himself from eyeing the bounce of her breasts.

Bulma caught Vegeta's distraction and she instantly dropped her hands a little, allowing her full 'attributes' to rest on her forearms. Her eyes became half-lidded and her tone lowered into a husky pitch.

"You know you want to." She whispered to him. Vegeta had been staring at her now fully revealed breasts, but at her entreaty his eyes shot up to meet hers. His pulse raceed when he saw the promise reflected in their depths. He sighed deeply, levering himself out of the tub, hiding a smile when she began to clap her hands wildly.

He stepped into the center of the large marbled bath that was steamy with a combination of hot water and even hotter bodies. He turned to face her, watching as she scooted up to the rim of the tub, looking up at him with eager expectation. Her blue eyes were wide with childish delight and he felt his heart constrict when he looked down at her. He fisted his hands at his sides, reaching down inside of him, calling on the sleeping dragon to awaken.

The beast roused its weary head, its teal eyes latching onto the glowing face of its mate. Slowly, with great care it rose to the surface, pouring light into every pore, infusing cells with energy, casting black hair into gold.

Bulma gasped at the sight. He was beautiful. It was although someone had dipped him in molten fire, coating him in precious metal and polishing him to a blinding shine. She ached with the need to touch him, to run her fingers over the smooth bulge of his muscles and the indentations of flesh. She rose from the bath, water cascading off her flushed body as she stared enchanted at the man in front of her.

In her daze she misjudged the height of the rim and caught her foot on the edge. With a tiny shriek she fell forward, her eyes clenching shut as her hands flew out in front of her to brace herself for the painful fall, but she never made contact. Instead, in a ripple of muscle and sinew, Vegeta darted out, catching her to his chest before she could come to harm.

She opened her eyes to meet his teal gaze, her breath coming in heavy pants. They stared at each other for endless minutes, before a wicked smirk overtook his features.

"Stupid woman."

She smiled back up at him, raising her lips to his when they descended for a bone melting kiss. Their tongues twined together in a slow sensual dance of longing. His aura snapped and hissed, causing the small hairs on her body to stand on end. Her skin tingled with each shock, sending fits of pleasure through her causing her to moan.

Her age old call of need vibrated through Vegeta and he thickened with the desire to fill her. He lifted her up against his solid chest and his heart began to pound when her long legs wrapped around him in a silent demand. In three steps he had her pressed up against the cool marble wall that sweated with the steam of their prolonged bath. Bulma arched against the veined stone, pressing her shoulders flat while grinding her damp center against his thrusting erection.

He trailed away from her swollen mouth, stopping to lap at the pool of water trapped in the hollow of her throat. Her head fell back against the wall as she greedily gulped for air, her lungs suddenly becoming sluggish, finally forgetting to work completely when his hot lips skimmed over her pulse. He paused to lick the mark on her throat that proclaimed that she belonged to him, aching to dominate her in a more complete fashion.

"My lord." Zarbon's cool tones invaded the room through the intercom.

Vegeta's head darted up, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he glared at the small box.

"That's it. I am going to kill him." He growled with deadly promise.

Bulma merely giggled, rubbing her breasts against Vegeta's naked chest. "Oh don't be such a grumpy butt." His deadly gaze latched onto her, but she remained unaffected. He snorted at her comment, setting her down on her feet before he stalked over to the intercom, pressing the button forcibly.

"What?" He snarled, uncaring that his annoyance was audible.

Back in the control room, Zarbon rolled his eyes. By the sound of things he really needed to work on his timing. A stunning violet-haired woman walked by at that moment, winking at the handsome man, causing him to grin roguishly. Perhaps a little more practice was in order. He quickly reined in his drifting thoughts and returned his attention to his lord.

"We have arrived, my lord." After months of travel they had finally located the planet that the royal heir had been sent into hiding at.

Vegeta turned around as Zarbon's words caused Bulma to squeal in delight. Finally, she would be able to hold her son in her arms once again. She had dreamed of this moment for weeks, unable to contain her overwhelming excitement. Even though she was reunited with Vegeta she still felt that there was a hole in her heart, something that could only be filled by the safe return of her baby.

Vegeta had repeatedly tried to tell her that Trunks would not be like a human child, especially after being sent off to live by himself as a mere infant. He would be wild, living off the land like an animal. He warned her that she wouldn't be able to coddle him and that more than likely he would have to be tamed before she could go near him. Even as a toddler he would have enough strength to crush his delicate mother without trying.

Bulma refused to listen to Vegeta's lectures. Instead she fantasized about her coming reunion with her child. In her mind's eyes she saw him running into her arms and hugging her as she cried tears of joy. The rational part of her mind understood Vegeta's concerns, but she couldn't imagine her little boy doing anything to hurt her.

She twirled in the center of the room before she darted off to find something to wear. Vegeta heaved a great sigh, his power fading away when he realized that he would not be able to finish what he started. He turned back to the intercom, informing Zarbon that they would be coming up to the bridge shortly. He followed his mate back into the bedroom, a curious sense of foreboding nesting in the pit of his stomach.

They touched down a short distance away from the pod that had transported Trunks. The homing beacon that Bulma had installed in the cock pit signified its location deep in a thick jungle. The world that Bulma had sent their son to was inhabited by primitive tribes and therefore no threat to their abnormally strong son.

A Saiyan has the ability to crawl only a few hours after it is born and is able to walk within a few short days. Their animal instincts made them the perfect warrior race as their cubs could single handedly annihilate a world if it so chose, thus making them nearly unstoppable. The jungle where Trunks had landed would offer him more than enough resources to survive even as an infant and neither Vegeta nor Bulma were worried about their precious offspring.

After waging a fierce war, Vegeta finally ordered Bulma to stay on the ship. His fear for her safety overrode the desire to please his mate and it was all he could do not to unleash his foul temper on her. She spat and hissed, but once he roared his order in front of his men there was no recourse. She dared not disobey him in front of the newly drafted soldiers and risk threatening his authority over them. Besides once given, he would never renege on his demand.

Since renewing their bond, their link had begun to grow again. Not as slowly this time, but they still couldn't share words yet. However, much to Vegeta's dismay, emotions came through loud and clear. Bulma's anger left him little hope that his evening would be pleasant upon his return. He assured himself that her pleasure at seeing their son would dull her rage, but the last look she flashed him held little promise.

Vegeta stalked out of the ship, Zarbon and a contingent of men on his heels. The green man drew even to his lord, politely waiting for permission to speak. Vegeta grit his teeth, still angry over his confrontation with Bulma.

"What?" He snapped while he scanned the area for any threats.

"I have the latest reports my lord." Vegeta had been keeping himself apprised of the events surrounding the collapse of the empire and he was none to pleased about it. Although he knew that retrieving his heir was of great importance he was afraid that if he didn't return to Capital World soon there would be nothing to bequeath to his son. He nodded curtly for Zarbon to continue as they made their way to the pod.

"The citizens of Pathia have rioted bringing the entire planet to a screeching halt in order to deal with the chaos. The Dells seeing their inattention took the opportunity to invade them. They are currently engaged in a destructive war that could leave both worlds decimated."

Vegeta sneered in disgust. He could care less if both races killed themselves but it so happened that the Pathians were a rich mining society. They harvested Incandescent Crystals and while Vegeta was inclined to let them die out and replace them with another race, the Pathians were the only ones who knew how to mine the crystals without destroying them. To further complicate matters, the Dells, the inhabitants of the neighboring world were the only race who knew how to fashion the crystal into beautiful pieces of art. Neither race would divulge their secrets and Vegeta didn't want to lose such a prosperous aspect of the empire's economy.

"What else?" Vegeta sighed. He knew there was more. Zarbon always started out with the minor incidents in order to soften him up for the bigger blow.

"A total of seventy-two planets have revolted from the empire. The Shari and the Reaves are attempting to organizing them into a union. Apparently between the two leaders they may have half a brain." Zarbon sneered snidely and Vegeta lifted a brow in amusement.

"They know that you will be returning to Capital World soon in order to take the throne and they are trying to convince the other worlds to band together against you. They are afraid that you are going to be another tyrant like Frieza." Zarbon stared straight ahead, not daring to look at his new lord.

Vegeta's lip curled in distaste. His first instinct was to visit each and every planet that opposed him and teach them a bloody lesson in the error of their ways. That thought may very well become a reality if he didn't return to the heart of the empire quickly and regain control before it eroded completely.

"They have a very good reason to be afraid of me. I'm the one who beat most of those worlds into submission in the first place." Vegeta's icy tones slid down Zarbon's spine and he had to suppress his violent shiver of fear.

They arrived at the pod without incident and Vegeta's eyes slit as he studied the tracks around the ship. The door was wrenched open, but it had obviously been done from the inside out. Once the pod had landed his son had exited hastily, tearing the hatch from the hinges and tossing it aside. Vegeta smirked at the sight, anticipation at seeing his heir humming insistently inside of him no matter how hard he tried to suppress it.

He could see the small prints of his son leaving the clearing and entering into the lush jungle, but that was not what caused Vegeta to growl. Crisscrossing his son's marks were several other sets of prints. These were not the track of some tribesman, but they bore the stamp of a military boot. They milled about the area before eventually trailing off after his son's tracks. Vegeta scented the air, grimacing at the faint odor of male sweat and worked leather.

Vegeta dropped into a low crouch as he weaveed through the thick trees, tracking the prints as they led him away from the pod. The usually teeming jungle became still as the wildlife retreated from the newest predator in their midst. Vegeta moved quickly and silently, leaving the others behind as he glided over the land like a large sleek cat, hunting for prey. He saw signs all around him of his son's presence, the skeletal remains of some beast and the rotten cores of fruit piled underneath one tree.

As he neared another glade he could taste a slight acidic taint in the wind, a reminder of a ki blast. He burst into the clearing, his eyes narrowing as he observed the disarray of the forest, his agile mind recreating the battle with ease. Several trees were broken in half where bodies had been hurled into them. The ground was torn apart by the stampeding of opponents centered on one target. Char marks scarred the land and Vegeta could see where the underbrush had been burned away.

He circled the area, satisfied that his son had claimed the life of several of his attackers, but no remains had been left behind. Trucks had fought well, but he had eventually been overpowered. Vegeta felt something wrench deep inside of him, but he viciously pushed it aside.

Zarbon entered the clearing, the soldiers trailing closely behind. The green man absorbed the scene before raising his eyes to his enraged lord. Without a word, Zarbon spun away, efficiently issuing orders to the men to scour the area. Zarbon kept his back turned, unable to look at his lord. He had seen the naked truth reflected in Vegeta's cold obsidian eyes.

Trunks was gone.

They searched for hours. Eventually, the sun sunk below the horizon and the world was cast in darkness. Vegeta stood silently on a wide branch of a tree, unmoving as his merciless eyes scanned the jungle, unwilling to accept the inevitable. He could feel the waves of Bulma's anger turn to worry as the evening lengthened and he still did not return to the ship. Dread coiled deep in the pit of his stomach as he replayed the coming scene over and over in his head. How would he tell her? How would he confess that their son had been taken? He sighed deeply before he leapt from the tree, his landing heard only as a whisper of leaves.

She was waiting for him at the edge of the forest, her wide blue eyes clearly visible even in the growing shadows. He stopped a few feet before her, his face cloaked in the night. He couldn't stop the regret that escaped him, floating on their telepathic link to connect with her mind. Her hands fluttered up to her stomach, her claws mindlessly kneading into the soft flesh of her belly.

"Where is my baby, Vegeta?" She whispered to him, a silken demand for honesty. Her small body began to quake as she desperately tried to keep control of her intense emotions. Vegeta could feel her fear, her dread and her agony of loss screaming through her soul. He took a step towards her, intending to gather her close to him and take away the ache in her heart, but she retreated, her eyes becoming larger.

"Where is he?" She demanded in a quivering voice.

"Gone." That single word reached out and slapped her, bruising her deep inside.

"Where?" Her body caved slightly as her shoulders hunched forward. Deeper her nails dug, scoring the smooth flesh of her midriff. Vegeta stepped forward again, but she retreated, from him, from herself.

"I don't know. Someone took him." His voice was raw, but that was the only sign that he felt something. Inside, it was as though a thousand whips were lashing him. He wanted to reach out and hold his mate. He wanted to reach out and beat to death the people responsible for taking his son. He wanted to reach out and wipe it all away.

"Who?" She choked out. Her chest felt like it was being squeezed by a vice grip and she could barely get the breath she needed to live, much less think. She began to waver on her feet as despair crashed down on her. Her baby was gone. Someone had taken him. No, it was impossible. This couldn't be happening. She clenched her eyes shut, shaking her head in denial. In a distance she could hear Vegeta telling her he that he didn't know who had their son, but the roar in her head drowned him out.

She fell to her knees, holding her belly, the last place she had known her son was safe. She felt Vegeta's arms wrap around her shoulders, but soon she was lost to the oblivion of her sorrow.

Vegeta cradled her tightly to his chest, shutting his eyes against the howls that keened from his mate's throat. Her delicate body shuddered so violently that he was afraid she would shake apart in his arms. Her tears flowed down her cheeks in rivers and the pain emanating from her nearly staggered him with its weight.

She cried for hours until her small body could no longer handle the torrential outpouring of emotion and she finally collapsed into an unconscious heap. Vegeta lifted her up into his arms, striding to the ship. Zarbon stepped aside as he watched the implacable man carry his mate into his bedchamber and he felt that shiver of fear run down his spine again.