Shar-Kali was Arkisbe's hot, sweaty cousin. It was a town of about 15,000 people built around a rapidly-shrinking oasis in the middle of the desert, it's growth sustained by a complicated irrigation system that distributed water from a river that made its way down from a nearby mountain.

Although perhaps "town" was too generous a term. It was more like a series of villages connected by a complex system of paved roads and shared markets and factories. As with Arkisbe, work was limited to what the humans and Saiyans could make themselves – textiles, furniture, construction, and so on. But unlike Arkisbe, where everyone was pretty much in the same financial boat, in Shar-Kali there was an obvious and steep difference between the lifestyles of the Saiyans and the humans.

The Saiyan "village," supported as it was by a stream of money coming in from off-planet warriors, boasted clean roads and large houses, it's people better dressed and better fed. The human side was a stark contrast – dirt roads, small, rundown homes, patches of sickly-looking vegetable gardens, a sure sign of families struggling to provide for themselves (and a personal affront to Raditz, whose dormant inner farmer instinctively turned up his nose at anything but the most well-manicured lawns).

It was here the Raditz found himself, after nearly 20 minutes of wandering aimlessly around the Saiyan side of town asking for directions. He was annoyed and hungry; it was almost noon and all he could think about was his next meal.

That Tienshinhan guy had better measure up, he thought, or Yamcha's gonna get it.

A woman he'd stopped in the road pointed him in the direction of a rock quarry from which the workers were coming down for lunch, and sure enough he found a large gathering of men making their way into the town.

"Hey!" he yelled out, positioning himself very firmly in their path, legs spread and hands on hips.

The men froze, a combination of confusion and dread on their faces. Several took a step back and a few hunched their shoulders, as if hoping that they could make themselves disappear.

"I'm looking for Tienshinhan," Raditz announced, eyes scanning the group. "Is he here?"

A tall, broad-shouldered young man pushed his way forward. Raditz had noticed him: he was one of the few who didn't seem frightened or worried by him. He stood tall, matching Raditz's stance, his shirt flung over one shoulder. He was completely bald, and Raditz had to smile to himself as he remembered what Master Roshi had said about dedicated martial artists. This must be a good sign.

"I'm Tien. What do you want?"

"Come with me." Raditz made to move to the side of the road, but Tien wasn't following him. "Come on," he called back. "It's fine, I won't eat you."

Scowling, Tien followed him. It was strange, the way all three of his eyes seemed to squint when he frowned, but Raditz didn't pay much attention to it. "Three-eyes" were not common, but Tien wasn't the first one he'd seen.

"What is it?" Tien demanded.

Raditz pulled out his executive order. Clearly there would be no chit-chat with this guy. "I'm recruiting you for a special mission for Prince Vegeta."

All three of Tien's eyes widened in shock. "M-Me?" he stammered. "Me? Wha-why? How…"

"Your friend Yamcha recommended you to me."

"Yamcha!" The shock on Tien's face was immediately replaced by mistrust. "What does Yamcha have to do with this?"

"He's been recruited too."

"To do what, exactly?"

Raditz huffed. "To join a new squad in Frieza's army on behalf of Vegeta. Now if you're done asking questions…"

"No I'm not," Tien snapped. "I'm not going anywhere, and I'm definitely not fighting for some overlord I've never even seen before."

"I don't think you understand," Raditz smirked. "This is a direct order from Prince Vegeta."

"I don't care, I'm not going!"

Raditz's smirk became a frown. Damn it, why did he have to get this attitude just as he was starting to plan for lunch? At this rate it'd be going on dinnertime before he got anything to eat! "I can make you, you know," he said wearily.

Tien crouched into a defensive stance defiantly. "Let's see you try."

Bardock's eyes blinked open. The stone pattern on the wall across from him came into focus slowly and he rolled over onto his back, his fists clenching around the thin blanket on top of him. He turned his head to the side to look at his wife. Gine was on her back fast asleep, her arms splayed out across the blanket. For a little thing she took up a ridiculous amount of space.

They had had an unusually bad night after she'd chased him into the room.

"What in the hell was that?!"

Bardock had slumped onto the bed and shut his eyes. "Just, shut up G, okay?"

"Shut up? What's gotten into you?" Gine demanded. "You could have really hurt him!"

"You don't understand…"

"What? What could possibly make you do something like this?"

"You-," Bardock was up and in her face in one movement. "You just – ugh, G!" He clenched his fists over and over, eyes roaming the room as he searched for words.

Gine took a deep breath and reached out to press her palms against his shoulders. "What, Bardock? What is it?"

"He was going to go after the Lady. I saved him a public beating, and what do I get? He starts getting into it with me. Like he always does! G-," Bardock paused and shut his eyes again, breathing deeply through his nose. "I didn't mean to hit him that hard, but G, he has to learn that he can't just say whatever the hell he wants to anyone who comes his way, or else one of these days he's gonna mouth off to someone who's not gonna care how hard they hit him."

And now Bardock was sitting up in bed, dreading having to face his son over breakfast – not because he'd hit him, although he did genuinely regret that, but because he doubted that the lesson he'd tried to teach him had stuck.

He got up and found himself wandering into his sons' bedroom. Kakarot and Kaela were both fast asleep, Raditz unaccountably missing, he noticed.

He leaned over his sleeping son. Kakarot slept like his mother, arms and legs everywhere. The bruise was gone, the mark on his cheek faded almost entirely. It would be gone by tomorrow, if Bardock was any judge. That, at least, was one thing he wouldn't have to worry about.

Very deliberately, Raditz pressed his foot firmly into the bleeding wound in Tien's side.

"Aaaahhh!"

"You know I could just kill you here," Raditz said, "and no one would care. But I came all this way and missed lunch, and if I kill you now I'd have to find someone else to replace you, and I really don't want to have to do that. So," he pushed his foot in a little harder, eliciting another agonized scream from Tien, "I'm gonna let you go now, and you're gonna clean yourself up and meet me in Arkisbe tomorrow at noon. Otherwise, I'm gonna come back here and poke out that third eye of yours. Got it?" He gave the wound one last kick before removing his foot from the battered body.

Tien moaned pitifully, rolling over onto his stomach and spitting out a wad of blood. It had been a long, long time since he'd taken such a beating. In the world of underground martial arts, Tienshinhan was a legend, an undefeated master. Here and now, he was just another human in a world held in the firm fists of the Saiyans.

"Are you going to live?" Raditz asked as Tien continued to pant desperately on the ground.

"Go away!" Tien yelled. With a mighty effort, he lifted himself from the dirt. His knees buckled with pain but he stayed standing, turning slowly to face Raditz. "You got what you wanted," he spat. "I'll be there. Now get out of here!"

Raditz gave him a skeptical look and crossed his arms. "Alright," he said as he began to levitate into the air, "just try not to bleed out."

It was strange that Tien had been so resistant, Raditz thought as he made his way home. He certainly hadn't been expecting that – how could anyone refuse a direct order from the prince himself? Why would anyone refuse a direct order? It was so nonsensical – he had put up a decent fight, but there had never been any doubt that Raditz had him outmatched.

That was another worrying thing. Tien was clearly an experienced fighter, but he was nowhere near Raditz's level of strength, and Raditz was pretty average for a Saiyan his age. There were certainly a lot of fighters much weaker than the Saiyans in Frieza's army, but there were also many who were much, much stronger. Would humans be able to survive the army?

This could be a problem, especially since he wasn't done for the day.

By the time Raditz got home it was well into the afternoon and no one was home. His mother, of course, was at work, and Kakarot, Kaela, and his father must have gone out training. The kitchen still bore signs of their daily lunchtime raid, and Raditz was forced to make do with what was left.

Although, he considered as he bit into a turkey leg, there was food at the bar…

He paused mid-bite. If having an amnesiac brother had taught him anything, it was that there were some things that you had to approach carefully. And if this morning's altercation had taught him anything, it was that this was one of those things.

It was not a trait that came naturally to Raditz. He was inherently like his father, blunt and brash, the kind of guy who shot first and then thought about what questions to ask later. In Vegetan society, that was what worked. You went in hard and intimidated people with your status and your strength.

It worked with everyone except Kakarot. The harder you pushed with him, the harder he pushed back, and no amount of threats or beatings or "listen to your elders!" made any difference. You could spend hours and days and years fighting him, or you could play nice. Sweet talk would get you everywhere with Kakarot, and Raditz had discovered that it could do you a lot of good with other people too.

Thirty minutes found him at the bar. It was just starting to get busy, but even if it had been packed, there was no way anyone could miss the giant red-haired man carefully cleaning mugs behind the bar.

Yes, Raditz thought, you could always rely on Launch's sense of injustice to lead you to the right place.

"Jasper, right?" Raditz gave him his friendliest smile as he sat on a stool.

"That is correct," the man replied in that strange monotone of his. "What would you like?"

"Get me a beer." Jasper passed him a cold mug, and Raditz took a large sip. "I've heard good things about you."

Jasper's pale blue eyes widened slightly. "What have you heard?" he asked. There was just a hint of curiosity in his voice, the most emotion Raditz had heard in it so far.

"That you're a hard worker. My brother Kakarot's worked with you on the farms."

"Kakarot," Jasper replied. "That is the Saiyan boy they call Goku?"

Raditz resisted the urge to snap at him and nodded.

"You must be very proud of him. He is a strong boy and very pleasant to work with," Jasper said, as if reciting from a prepared manuscript.

"Thanks," Raditz grinned. "I saw you got some kids that aren't quite as nice."

"They are good kids," Jasper insisted. "But they are mischievous."

"They're your siblings?"

There was an inordinately long pause before Jasper finally nodded.

"Kids are expensive," Raditz commented. "I had a friend who worked this job before you. She didn't make a whole lot."

"It is enough."

Raditz pulled out the prince's order and slid it across the bar to Jasper. "I'm gonna make you an offer. Prince Vegeta is looking for human fighters to join our contingent in Frieza's army, and anyone with a brain can see you're a fighter. You join up, you make a lot more money for those kids."

Jasper paused. "Why does Prince Vegeta need human fighters?"

Raditz shrugged. "I'm just following orders. You should too."

"I cannot leave the children."

"Send them back to your family."

"We have no family. I take care of the children."

Raditz was losing patience. "Then find someone to take them in."

"There is no one."

"Look, I don't wanna have to make you do this," Raditz said. "But I can. For one thing, this is an official order from the prince himself. And those scars you got don't look like farming injuries. I would know." He sat back on the barstool and gave Jasper his most authoritative glare – he was having to use it more and more these days. "So you do what I'm telling you, and I don't ask a lot of awkward questions. Deal?"

There was a long silence. Then, "There is no one to take care of the children."

Raditz slid off the stool. "That sounds like your problem. I'm having a squad training session tomorrow at noon. Don't make me come get you."