He was one of many attendants who serviced the king and the palace. There were thousands like him, clad in the same uniform of golden stitching over red fabric, the sacred water plant pinned to his chest. His hair cut back short, and his face carefully schooled into an expression of calm disinterest. He'd served for twenty years, but the King and his court would have had difficulty picking him out of a lineup. His face was generic, aggressively average. There was nothing to distance him from anyone else, so long as he didn't go out of his way to stand out.

He could be anyone. Any one of thousands of bustling servants and attendants, could go where he wanted without fear of censure. It was a privilege that he had made use of before, and that he was now making use of again.

The many towers of the palace-building rose up together, striving towards the sun, even as the water cascaded down their sides. It was all so very symbolic and dramatic, but because practical concerns were a thing as well, each tower had an elevator which went all the way to the top, or all the way to the bottom. They were hidden, of course. Current thinking being that elevators made one unfit and weak of mind. Lazy. But servants were servants, and he knew where they were, and he had the codes to access them.

He was there now. Carefully nudging a painted tapestry of the Othmurk rebellion to the side to reveal a sliding door. He looked around once to be sure that he was alone, and stepped through. The tapestry fell back into place.

The interior of the elevator was bare metal, little expense had been given over to it. Just enough to be sure that it didn't crash and burn upon use. To the side of the door, there was a panel, and a series of numbered buttons. Each represented a floor, and there was one for each level from the ground to the highest point in the tower.

There was more too, if you knew how to look.

He slid a keycard out of his pocket, and swiped it across the sensor-plate. There was a moment of tension, as he wondered if he'd be caught. So far, he'd done nothing that was technically illegal, but he wasn't supposed to have that code. It could be dangerous to be caught with it. He'd be dismissed for sure, and he couldn't afford that. Not when he had already come so very far.

He relaxed when he heard the machine chime once, and then the buttons started to go dark, save for one. The bottom floor. It glowed softly green, the only one now active.

He pressed it. The elevator started to descend. He had a few minutes.

He wished there was a mirror, so he could look at himself. He disliked appearing before the master garbed as a servant, but there was little that he could do about it now. He'd been charged with a mission, and now he was returning to report what he had learned.

There was one thing, he had to do before the elevator doors swung open. He reached into the pocket of his uniform, and unfolded a tangled ball of fabric. Uncurling it revealed that it was a blindfold, which he quickly drew across his face. The strap bit into the back of his head, and he adjusted it until he could see nothing.

Blackness. Darkness. All around him. Once, it would have been a thing of fear, but the master had taught him better than that. He took a deep breath, stretched out his senses, and saw without his eyes.

The door slide open.

It was time to go.

Raditz stood with his arms crossed as his guide babbled on about something or other. He wasn't paying much attention to the tanned native, too focused on other things. For three hours now, he'd stalked the oddly deserted streets (Hah. Who would have thought? Someone must have sent out a warning.) and he'd found absolutely nothing of consequence. The sun beat down on him unpleasantly, and he kept feeling phantom pain where his tail used to be. To put it shortly, he was bored, annoyed, and not much in the mood for what was obviously a very carefully guided tour.

"-And this building." The guide went on, unaware of Raditz's internal debate as to the pros and cons of sudden death, "was once the home of a guild of sorcerers said to be founders of the city. According to legend, they summoned the waters from the very air itself, and were the reason that this city was able to grow as it did." She laughed slightly, a very civilized gesture, meant to put people at their ease, he was sure. "Of course, in modern days, the whole thing is considered to be more likely an allegory, and the people who dwelt here were traders who helped to bring goods and funds into the infant city. But then, I suppose that ''magic'' is so much more daring than ''economics'' when it comes to making history."

"Doesn't seem much." He said. The building was squat, heavy with a tower rising from the roof which was eclipsed by those buildings beside and near it. It was evidently old, and even the golden-brickwork that made up its surface seemed tarnished and faded.

"At the time, this building was the height of fashion." His guide told him. "That was long ago, of course. We keep it up as a reminder of the past. It's important not to forget where you came from. Let's move on, did you want to visit the market district next?"

Raditz rolled his eyes.

Want to? Not really. You've been talking my ear off for hours now and I've not found anything interesting at all. Problem is, if I go back and the tell the prince that, it's likely I'll get my ass kicked.

He fixed the best false smile he could.

"That sounds absolutely delightful."

The markets district was at least marginally more interesting. It was a big place, with hundreds of stalls and shops, and even the forewarning of the presence of a Saiyan did not seem to be enough to clear it out. There were thousands present, their murmuring a constant, steady rumble. Broken by the sharp shouts of the merchants advertising their wares. There were many things; he could smell food, tantalisingly cooked with alien spices that made his stomach rumble. Reminding him that he had not had proper food for some weeks – the stuff given out at the palace had been weak, hardly food at all. Just the sort of thing you'd give to alien guests you didn't much like.

Food wasn't all of it though. From where he stood, he could see stalls selling clothes, ornaments, tools, twisting bits of metal whose purpose he didn't understand. None of them seemed to be without customers either, and people thronged around them, talking and chatting. Around him, a thousand purchases were made, people met and intermingled. There was laughter, and shouting, and angry screaming as well in places.

It was the feel of a lived in place, and Raditz realised that it had been a very long time since he had experienced it for himself. Between stays on the ship, and missions for Frieza, when was the last time he'd visited somewhere just for the hell of it?

Though, many people were ignored as they went about their business, he wasn't one of them. As soon as they caught sight of him, the crowd took on a different edge, clearing space for him to walk almost without even seeming to try. Wherever he went just happened to be empty, and he felt the fear in their eyes, and the tightness of their expressions. The whispering took on a different tone as well.

''Saiyan.'' They said, obviously not knowing that a Saiyan's senses tended to be just slightly better than average. ''Saiyans...what are those monsters doing here? They'll kill us all if we're not careful...Did you hear what they did at Dovonor?…utter monsters….serve Frieza….''

His guide blanched, her confident expression starting to show cracks as the reaction of the crowd obviously was more than she had expected. Perhaps she'd wanted to hide him in their sheer number? Hah, if so, it was a mistake. No one ever failed to notice a Saiyan.

"Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea..." She said uncertainly. "Maybe we should go?"

"Nonsense!" Raditz smirked, enjoying her discomfort, and the fear of the crowd in equal amount. "I was told that I could go where I wanted, are you telling me that this crowd could possibly present a danger?"

"Well..." She said dithered, torn between admitting the danger, and trying to project the image she had doubtless been ordered to. "There are some things in the past..."

"That we've done? Well, yes, we have killed some worlds now you mention it. But look on the bright side, your one probably isn't going to be one of them."

He stalked over to one of the stalls, just to see how far he could push things. He felt the tension in the crowd, the fear and the anger directed at him. Of course, he was in no danger. Not a single one of them was equal to even a third-class warrior. He could kill them all if he so desired. Technically now, he was under orders not to. But even more technically, if they started it first, he couldn't be blamed for defending himself. Especially if he kept the guide alive so that she could back up his story later.

"What are these things?" He said, looking down at the items being sold. They were those twisted metal objects. There seemed to be no uniform shape to them, some were circular, some were bent at odd angles, and all of them had the look of something hand-crafted by someone who had perhaps tragically lost several fingers in the process.

The poor stall owner didn't know how to react. The crowd was mulling and shifting. Most pretended to go about their business, trying their best to ignore him, but a significant number weren't even doing that. Intently watching as though they hoped for a chance to strike against the monstrous Saiyan.

In the end, the owner decided to just pretend it was like any other customer.

"These are the finest charms." He said, his voice tight with anxiety. "Made by the finest magicians… guaranteed to ward off evil or harm."

"Magic?" Raditz said, glancing back towards the flustered guide. "I thought you said that you people didn't believe in that anymore? You called it an allegory?"

"Most of us don't." The guide said, her gaze still half on the crowd. "There are some of us who still have a belief. It's growing less and less powerful in the face of proper logic, and the King has put into place a program intended to teach proper thinking in schools to discourage it, but it's still strong in some segments of the population."

Raditz turned to the store-keeper.

"Well, what do you think?"

"Sir? I don't understand….?"

"You said that these charms are supposed to ward off danger, right? Turn aside harm? Make it so that you're protected if you're near one of them?"

"That's right." The shopkeeper gulped. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Raditz's shadow towered over him, and he couldn't help but notice the muscular, powerful, and above all else, lethal presence that was the Saiyan.

"So, do you think they actually work?"

"Hoping like hell they do, sir."

The murmuring of the crowd was broken by a sudden, loud noise, and the guide jumped. Spinning around, expecting an attack. She flushed with embarrassment when she realised that it had been Raditz's laughter.

"Good answer." Raditz chuckled. "Good answer. Well, in that case, I'll be taking one of them."

"Of course."

Naturally, there was no offer of payment, nor was there much of an expectation of it. The shopkeeper handed Raditz one of the metal wards, and he turned it over curiously. Then, he stepped away from the stall, the guide following in his wake.

The shopkeeper breathed a sigh of relief. Today wasn't his day to die after all.

Mo-Fai did not live in the palace, unlike most of the royal court. He was technically a noble, so it was within his purview to do so. However, he was also an alien, and as such, was always the outsider when it came to local politics. True, he'd dwelt on this world for longer than the current generation had been alive, but he looked different, and if that wasn't enough, there was always this sense about Mo-Fai. As though he were measuring you up, and you never quite seemed to meet his expectations.

No, he dwelt under the palace instead. Where there were miles of tunnels and warrens, and machine-rooms, and store houses that had been filled and then forgotten. It was said that the Palace of the Eternal King was like a plant, and that for every inch of it that rose into the air, there were three inches that spread underground.

Few could remember now why or how Mo-Fao had gained permission to dwell in that place. He was older than everyone, and so, most simply assumed that he had always been there. Those who bothered to check into did in fact find that he had been granted the space by some ancient king or other. There was never any question of getting rid of him, he was too important. He'd existed a long time, and even if it was only be default, he'd become something of a bedrock for the palace and the people who dwelt within. Mo-Fai was so old that death had forgotten about him, they would joke. Or maybe he actually was death, and he'd retired. His replacement was too afraid to get a lecture to come and take his soul now.

There were many such jokes about Mo-Fai. He allowed them. They made him smile behind the metal plate of his breathing mask. His lungs were old, you see, and quite feeble. He couldn't go anywhere without the mask, but even with the mask, it was becoming a challenge.

This was because as much as the palace liked to joke about his evident immortality, it was not the case.

Mo-Fai was coming close to the end of his life.

He sat now in his life-support throne. Plugs and wires ran from it and into his body, flushing his blood, and pumping him full of drugs to stimulate cell reproduction, to give him back the image of youth and strength for a short time. It was a harsh treatment, but Mo-Fai came from a sturdy race. Even in his last days, he had more than enough stamina for it. Besides, he had no choice. If he didn't do it, he'd have died long ago. As it was, it allowed him to push the time of ending a little bit further into the future with each treatment.

Of course, even he had his limits. And those loaned periods of youth were getting shorter and shorter.

It was dark in the room. The light hurt his eyes nowadays, and he preferred to do his work in shadow. His eyes were closed, half-immersed in a dream of better days. The only sounds were his own mechanical whine, and the gurgling of the pipes. The pain of his body was far away for now, and he was remembering the glories of the ancient past.

So long ago now, when he'd been young and strong. When it seemed that he and his brethren could reach out across the stars and do anything. Of course, they'd never really achieved their true goal, and one by one, their numbers had fallen.

For all he knew, he was the last of their kind.

Was that why he fought so hard against the embrace of death? In his youth, the elders had told him that such things were unseemly. That death was to be accepted, a graceful end to a proper life. Fools. All of them. It was one thing to say those words, quite another to believe them when every beat of his heart might be his last. When his own lungs threatened to kill him if he ever removed this cursed mask, and when each and every day, he felt himself fading a little bit more.

Accept death? Never. He'd fight it. Had fought it. Had fought it for so long. But it wasn't a battle he could win. It was one of endurance, an endless struggle in which he was doomed to be ultimately overcome.

Or at least, that had been his thinking once upon a time.

His head moved. A sudden sense of a presence wrenching him from the warm memories of the past. Back in the present, the pain clamped down again. He ignored it. Moments later, the door slid open. It was still absolutely dark, but Mo-Fai could sense the Ki of one of his followers.

"Why have you come?" He asked bluntly.

The man dropped to one knee, spreading his arms in a gesture of submission.

"Master. I apologise for disturbing your rest. But you wished to know the results of the meeting between King Er-Sha and the Saiyans?"

"That's true. I did. What can you tell me?"

"So far, things remain in a deadlock, my lord. The King refuses to bend to Frieza's demands, and the Saiyan Prince doesn't wish to allow him to dictate alternative terms. Of course, it's merely the first day, so that is to be expected. Still, the Saiyan situation has focused his attention almost entirely."

"Good." Mo-Fai said. "That is what I hoped would happen. Gather the others. We'll hold council tonight."

The man's Ki shivered for a moment, as though in fear, but there was no tremor to his voice. "Yes, my lord. If I may ask, who is the target?"

"You think that I would target the Saiyans?"

"My lord, it is not my place to think anything. I merely do."

"That is correct. Nevertheless, you wonder?"

"If...if I am permitted to wonder."

"In this case, I will allow it. No, the Saiyans are not the target. There will be no target tonight. I have...other concerns… But it will be costly. Be sure to inform the others. There may be deaths."

The side-street was hardly the bustling throng that the marketplace had been, but Raditz found himself thankful for that. Though, initially, the crowded market had been an interesting novelty, it had quickly worn thin for the Saiyan. The murmuring had grown bothersome, and each face was simply someone that he was not allowed to kill. So he'd taken his leave, the guide following in his wake. He took a certain amount of pleasure from how he'd turned things around from before. He was now going where he pleased, and she was the one with little ability to object or to come keep.

Not that he was enjoying himself so much he forget his mission, of course. From the market, he'd spied one of the large towers that they reckoned to be defence batteries, and now he was drawing a circuitous route towards it. Already, it loomed in the distance, casting a shadow over the small street. It was larger than any of the other buildings to its side, and though it was overgrown with some form of climbing plant, flowering bright red, and fed by a stream of water that cascaded and rolled from the top of the structure, he was already seeing suspicious holes in the side of the building where cannons might just lurk.

He just needed an excuse to get closer.

"Saiyan!" He heard, turning to look for the guide, who was hurrying to catch up with him. "We shouldn't be here! This part of the city is not safe!"

"I'm sure." Raditz said. "Now, what's the real reason?"

"I'm not allowed to show you this part of the city."

"Of course not. But you don't have much of a choice. I go where I want."

"That's not fair!"

"Fairness doesn't come into it either. Did you really think that I'd be a nice boy and do what I was told?"

"That's not… I mean, that's…."

Radits grinned, seeing how her face clouded with anger and shock at his refusal to do what she wanted. Really, had she expected a Saiyan of all things to play nice?

"Here." He tossed something to her, and she snatched it out of the air. Gazing in confusion at the talisman he'd ''bought''. "You're giving this to me…?"

"Don't think too hard on it. You're probably going to need it in a second."

"And why is that?"

"Because we've been followed."

She blanched, looking around as though expecting to see an army on their tail. Fear coloured her face, and she stepped back.

"It must be someone from the market. I knew going there was a bad idea. There are many aliens in that sector...your kind is not well liked. This could be bad."

"For them. Just stay behind me, okay? I haven't had any fun in ages."

There was a low sound of clapping, and a figure emerged from the darkness of the shadow of the suspected battery. He'd been hiding behind two buildings, and as he stepped into the light, Raditz felt a savage grin split his face.

"Well, well, well." He said. "And here I thought this fight would be boring. An Arkosian here… one of the last free ones?"

"I know what you did to my people, Saiyan." The creature hissed. "Word is, you and yours were the ones that helped Frieza to burn my world."

"Well, I can't take all the credit. You did a lot of the work yourself."

The creature snarled, unfolding itself slowly as it rose up to its full height. It was taller than him, most Arkosians were. They were an insectoid race, roughly humanoid in proportion, but coated in a natural chitinous armour. Their hands were tipped with razor claws, and they had four to six arms, depending on cast. Some had wings too, but this one did not. It did have large compound eyes, though. And a sleek, predatory face, sculpted to resemble some ancient hunter. Raditz didn't know too much about them, but he pegged it as a warrior class, which made it even rarer.

Outwardly, Raditz flashed with confidence, he felt the adrenaline surging through his body, his blood singing in anticipation of a much better fight than he had expected to face here.

Inwardly though, it was slightly different. The last time he'd faced an Arkosian, it had been a member of the Royal cast, and it had torn off his tail, and beat him to a bloody pulp. A warrior wouldn't nearly be as tough.

But this time, he wouldn't have Nappa here to back him up either.

Thoughts of running were idly considered, and quickly dismissed. As he'd be the firs to say, even if his pride was not the same as an elite like Vegeta or Nappa, Raditz was a Saiyan. He couldn't, and wouldn't run from a fight.

Besides, this was the best chance he'd gotten to let loose since he lost his tail. A big part of him was wondering if he didn't need to fight it out, just to see if he really as much weaker as he felt at times.

"So." Raditz said. "We could do all the wishy-washy speech making about how we don't need to fight, but both of us know we will anyway. Shall we just get started."

"Good idea." The alien said. "I'll pay you back for the blood you've spilled!"

"Get in line!"

The two warriors lunged at each other, and the silence was broken by the shrill cry of a terrified native guide.

AN: So, it's been three chapters now, and while we get a fairly steady stream of hits for the story, we don't really seem to get that many reviews. We have two for the first chapter, and one of those is frankly spam. It makes writing this a bit difficult, if I don't know that it is being received well. So I am going to ask you to leave a review if you have actually enjoyed this work. if people aren't liking it, there is little reason to continue this story when I can spend time writing something people do like. But as I said, I do get a stream of actual hits from chapter to chapter, so I need something of a tie breaker here. If you like the story, please tell me so. Otherwise, it is starting to feel like I am shouting into an empty void.