Froze braced himself the second time that day. The scale of this being's strength was immense. He never imagined a person could be so powerful. As the power level grew closer, his scouter actually exploded into tiny little pieces. There was no way he could stand up to something like this. He turned to his attack ball, but it proved too damaged to be used. Damn, it always happened. No matter what world he fled to, the Trade was always there first. And since the Trade was under the rule of Arcos, he was- by extension- banished from every world the trade conquered. The wind blew dust in his face and he heard the unmistakable *ZYOOSH-ZYOOSH-ZYOOSH*ing of another being's aura. Then he felt a strong hand grab him by the throat, accompanied by a growling voice shouting something at him. It didn't sound like any language he knew; it was so primal and animalistic. He searched through his head to try and remember if he had ever heard a language with such an abundance of grunts, snorts, and growls. This being sounded like... a… monkey…
And that's when it hit him. That thought sparked a long-worn and faded memory from his childhood on Arcos. A brief footnote in his history books. It was a lesson about the saiyans and their induction into the Planet Trade. There was a small mention of their native language, a very bestial composition. This being… Was it a saiyan? There was no way… Froze opened an eye and looked at his attacker, who had apparently stopped yelling while Froze was thinking and was now staring at the arcosian as if expecting a response or an answer. The being was cloaked, but the hood was down and he could see the being's face. It was male, had extremely wild black hair, a cross-shaped scar on its cheek, black eyes, and a monkey tail. There was little doubt that this being was somehow a saiyan- which in turn meant that it would not hesitate to kill him. Froze was running low on air, and wheezed in Galactic Standard Language, "I do not speak your native language."
A look of recognition crossed the saiyan's face and it dropped Froze to the ground. It then proceeded to stamp its foot down on the young arcosian's head with painful pressure and replied in Galactic Standard, "I don't know who you are, but if you're with the Trade, then get the hell off this planet! There's nothing for you here!"
"I'm not with the trade…" The young arcosian gagged under the saiyan's boot, "But you're a saiyan… Aren't you with them?"
"Never with those bastards…" The saiyan growled, "My name's Bardock. The Trade killed my crew!"
"Bardock… No way… It's possible that you're a saiyan, but you can't be Bardock."
"And why is that?" The saiyan asked, increasing pressure on the young arcosian's body.
"Because… He died… Over twenty years ago…" Froze wheezed.
This news seemed to jolt the saiyan. He lifted his foot from the adolescent frost demon. He leant down and pulled Froze up. "I'll explain myself to you if you explain yourself to me."
"I'm going to expect an apology." Froze muttered weakly.
"Maybe later." The saiyan replied.
In a Top-Class Planet Trade Cruiser at the edge of the system, a commander relaxes in the lounge. He lies on the sofa comfortably, listening to the live music. It's good to be the king… Was the thought in his mind right before a crewman barged in and shouted something.
"Could you repeat that? I hadn't been paying attention." He asked.
"Commander Gradol, Sir!" The crewman repeated, "The report is in from the bridge! We're on the edge of the system and will arrive on 'Fungun' within hours."
"Fine, then. Prepare the crew." Was Gradol's reply.
The crewman nodded and dashed off.
In Bardock's "penthouse," Froze was recuperated. He severely had the breath knocked out of him after Bardock's "interrogation." He was sure, in fact, that he had more than just a few bruised ribs. Currently, he was sitting on a couch while Bardock was staring out the large window pane that made up one of the walls, seeming to be deep in thought. The saiyan wasn't wearing Trade armor, but rather an enlarged ensemble of the natives' clothing; blue baggy pants tucked into green boots, a green tunic tucked into the pants with a red sash-belt tied around, and a red headband tied around his forehead. Froze for one was not only surprised that Bardock was alive, but also that he resided on an uncharted, backwater planet where he protected surprisingly advanced mushroom people and wore their clothes.
Bardock turned to face Froze, ready to pose his questions and the stern look on his face indicated that any hint of a lie would be met with force.
"Now, then," Bardock began as he strode forward, "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine. Question one: What's your name? Question two: If you're not with the Planet Trade, then what's a Frost Demon like you even doing here? I know that you don't like to leave your planets unless absolutely necessary. And even then, you go to your cozy little colonies. So, what's your game?"
"My name is Froze. And I- Well- You see-" The arcosian stammered, he finally sighed and said, "Let's just say I'm on the run, okay. I'm not that popular with the Planet Trade."
Bardock glared at him, there was a look in the Froze's eyes not unsimilar to those he had seen in his son's eyes long ago… It was the weight of shame. He'd let this topic sit for now.
"Question three:" The saiyan resumed, "How did your pod get here?"
"I got struck by some meteors on my way to another planet, so I had to stop for repairs here."
"Question four: Did you disable the pod's tracker?"
"I don't exactly want to be found by the Trade, so yes. It's disabled."
"Question five: What's your power level?"
"Some 150,000 last I checked."
"Question six: Do you still have your scouter?"
"No, your power level overloaded it. It exploded."
"Question seven: Is Frieza still in charge?"
"Yes."
"Question eight: you said I 'died' how long ago?"
"Around 25 years ago."
"Question nine: Are there any living saiyans?"
"Prince Vegeta, Raditz, and Nappa are all still alive, last I heard."
Bardock nodded and turned back around, "Now it's your turn to ask me questions."
"Alright… How are you Bardock? The history books say that you were blown up with Planet Vegeta after a failed one-man stand against Frieza."
"I can assure you that I'm Bardock. How I survived, I have no clue. I woke up in the past with my armor intact, fought Lord Chilled after about a month of training my body, and about a week after that I somehow found myself here. But until you showed up, I had no idea when I was."
"Why are you wearing those clothes?"
"My trade armor was wrecked after the fight with Chilled."
"Why are you protecting these people? I thought saiyans conquered and fought."
"I rebelled because the Trade killed by team. And my time in the past got me thinking about what was wrong with what I did… Here, the only good fight is against the huge desert animals. It wouldn't be right or fun to slaughter these people."
Froze cringed a little bit at the statement.
"What about full moons? What do you do then?" the arcosian asked.
"I had special contact lenses made that block out Blutz Waves."
"Will you help me repair my pod?"
"I'll do what I can. Frankly, you need to leave this planet. The people here aren't ready for first contact."
Suddenly, Bardock's face paled. "No…" He muttered, "No… No… Not here…"
"What?" asked Froze in confusion and worry.
"The Planet Trade is coming. I feel it."
Froze exhaled deeply in relief, "Thank goodness, it's just your intuition. I was worried."
"No." The saiyan growled, "I can actually feel their power levels. It's a skill I developed that involves a long story." Bardock opened a hatch in the ceiling, "Stay here," He ordered, "I'm going to city hall and have the mayor order an evacuation. Don't let anyone in."
And with that, the saiyan flew off, the hatch closing behind him. Froze sighed, why did this have to happen to him? Every single time he was close to escaping, the Trade showed up. Their reach was increasing and more planets were being conquered every day. It should be expected that soon there would be nowhere to run and he would be put to death.
The young being was snapped out of his thoughts by a pouding on the door. Well, more of a pounding knock. A knock that wasn't stopping. Whoever was on the other side kept knocking and knocking and knocking.
"MR. BADLANDS! MR. BADLANDS!" Came a yell from the other side of the door. It sounded like a young male, a very obnoxious kid, "ARE YOU IN THERE? IT'S TIME FOR MY LESSON! YOU SAID YOU'D TEACH ME SOME MOVES!"
Froze panicked, then took a deep breath and calmed down. Bardock had locked the doors so that no one would interrupt. There was no way a weak kid could open the door. The yelling stopped, but a moment later Froze heard a rattling from the doorknob, followed by the sight of it turning. Next came the door opening up. In walked a small toad boy yelling, "MR. BADLANDS! ARE YOU HERE?"
Then the kid turned his head and saw Froze. There was a silence for a few seconds. The kid tilted his head to the side slightly, before saying simply, "You're not Mr. Badlands."
A/N:Next time, the fight begins! Will Bardock and Froze unite against their impending threat?
