It was a quiet night in the main office of the Sadal Ministry of Defense. The artificially-lit set of cubicles contained the various night shift workers, some scanning through computer files while others rested or goofed off from their work, having nothing else to do. Through the window on the second floor, one could see the dorms for the soldiers and by extent the rest of the military complex, only lit by the dim white rays of the moonlight at this hour. This floor, unlike the boxed-in cubicles of the first, was a largely open area with plenty of large monitors attached to the walls. Personnel with lab coats and higher-ranking soldiers alike took great care to monitor and protect the files on these computers, Commander Cabba supervised the employees as they looked through and secured various military records. Every high-ranking soldier took the night shift at the front desk at some point each week, and it was Cabba's turn this night.
The tranquil workplace was disturbed by the activation of an alarm from one of the computers. The workers flocked around to the central computer, a red symbol warning of an incoming distress signal on a newly opened tab. One employee raised the device's volume close to its maximum as Cabba took a seat and opened up the call. While the image was somewhat blurry, one of the trash compactor soldiers from Disposal Planet 3 could be seen on the other end, his helmet cracked and caked with dirt. The door to the dark room he was in mostly obscured and had its steel door closed. The trooper began to speak in a low whisper, nearly every other word laced in panic. "Listen… …I don't have… ...much time. Almost all of the soldiers are dead… ...our best man is grievously injured. I tried… ...to get him out of there, but he's on the first floor, and I can't climb down the stairs... ...for I have been shot in the leg."
"Stay calm, OK?" Cabba replied. "Can you describe the person or people that shot you and your men?" The soldier took another glance at the closed door before continuing. "I didn't get a good look at them before I was knocked out… ...one of them looked like an Arcosian. He had a blue membrane. Then there was a small creature... ...and a very large… ...dark gray one. That's all I remember." As a tall, blue alien in a lab coat near Cabba's computer listened to and jotted down notes on the vague descriptions given, the captain took increasing amounts of pity for the trooper. He had seen fearful, paranoid distress calls before, but nothing that had an effect on his mood like this. The man was trembling, taking breaks every few words to choke back tears. Any sound that wasn't that of talking, whether it be a bump, a creak or even a tap on a desk or the clicking of keys on Cabba's side made the soldier jump. This wasn't even the worst thing he had heard of or seen in his career: He had heard stories of pure hysteria before, women and children sobbing and heaving, fearing for their life ever more with each second that passed in their desperate cries for help. He had even seen a similar situation once: A young, pink-skinned woman on a space station whose only room was being consumed by a rapidly spreading gas fire. But there was something about this man in particular, the way he was expending every fiber of his will to keep composure in the face of the massacre he had just witnessed, that chilled Cabba to the bone and upset him more than any of the horror stories or his personal experiences.
"Listen, hang in there. I'll be sending soldiers over to Disposal Planet 3 right away. Stay onli-"
"I'm afraid it won't do, Commander Cabba. I'm not on-world right now."
"Hm?"
"Those criminals… ...I don't know what they did, but they fully repaired the palace and got it airborne. I'm pretty sure that if we haven't left the atmosphere yet, we will in a few minutes."
"Palace? What palace? And how did they repair it and get it flying?"
"Amongst... ...the garbage on DP-3, there... ...were ruins of… ...some kind of castle. We don't know... ..the history behind it, but that's... ...irrelevant right now. The criminals… ...they did something… ...magic of some kind that… ...spontaneously repaired… ...the castle… ...and let it fly."
The scene within the office had steadily deteriorated into total confusion. The blue alien struggled to scribble down notes in spite of the progressively spottier, more unstable connection. All around, soldiers and technicians were murmuring, trying to piece together what was happening. But amongst them, there was one technician who showed no reaction, at least superficially. She was a Saiyan, a very old one at that. Her hair was short and gray, her face wrinkled and somewhat pale. She had been intently listening in on the conversation, taking note of every little detail Cabba had been able to extract from the distressed guardsman. She craned her neck back down and leaned against the opposite wall, waiting for more information to be blurted out by the soldier.
"Do you know where this castle is headed?" asked Cabba.
"No," replied the guard, "but I… ...have a… ...sneaking suspicion that…"
The transmission was suddenly interrupted by the ear-splitting cacophony of tearing and scraping metal that made the personnel in the computer lab jump. The soldier's speech and entire body froze for what felt like an eternity to the anxious viewers of the video call. Finally, he mustered the courage to slowly tilt his head towards the source of the sound.
There wasn't a scream, any last words or even a faint gasp. The soldier didn't have the time to muster any of those as his lungs were crushed and shredded to bits by the black, clawed knifehand that impaled the unfortunate trooper, dark red Tuffle blood partially staining the edges of the camera. The hand released itself from the body as it crumpled on to the ground and out of sight. There was now nothing obscuring the muscular black creature staring at the lens, his glistening yellow eyes and satisfied smirk piercing the hearts of the officials on the other side. This staring contest was interrupted by another figure accompanying the creature.
"Goodness, Sansho! Couldn't you have at least had the decency to turn off the feed first?" said a noticeably smaller Arcosian, peeking his head from behind the dark brute's body. A few of the scientists and soldiers on the other side of the screen gasped as they realized it was Frost, the most wanted criminal in the Universe, who had accompanied the beast. Before they could get a better look, Sansho rapidly flung his fist at the camera, reducing the image on the live feed to static.
A stunned silence engulfed the room. Cabba stared blankly at the fizzling, staticy screen. He had remembered the record the footage, but he couldn't bring himself to look through it.
An elderly female voice then spoke.
"I've seen someone almost exactly like that Sansho fellow before." said the old professor standing in the back of the crowd, now turned towards her. "He resembles one the late Garlic's head minions. I saw him in the newspapers, the Wanted signs! He does look noticeably younger however. Perhaps a descendant of that one?" This created another commotion within the tightly packed office. Cabba could see some of the older soldiers and professors murmuring amongst each other in fear. He had heard horrible fables about Garlic before he was even in school, but that always seemed distant, like a history lesson. Some of the people in the same room, however, were allowing genuine fear to be shown on their expressions, on their mannerisms, in their hushed whispers. "In fact," the woman continued, "he had a son, didn't he? Garlic Jr., he called him. Not the most creative name, but it got the job done. After his father was defeated, Garlic Jr. was assumed to have died along with his army and palace."
"But that's the thing: he was assumed to have died. It was never actually confirmed in any capacity. And remember: Namekians, or at least, whatever kind of Namekian those two beasties were, can live quite a long time. They also don't really need to subsist on much aside from water."
A maddening uproar followed this statement. The personnel, young and old, showed varying degrees of shock before staring at their commander with demanding, worried expressions. Cabba could feel the pressure of all these people staring at him. He couldn't jump to conclusions like this, but…
The windows were shut inside the third-floor bedroom of the Royal Palace of Sadal. Potat was reading a book in his king-sized bed tucked into the luxurious, embroidered purple sheets, the only source of light in the room being his nightstand lamp. He had just finished up the 8th chapter of the novel he was reading. He placed a bookmark on the page he had left off on and prepared to go to sleep. Suddenly, the gold-plated phone right next to the lamp began to ring. On its base was a screen detailing the information of the caller: The address was from the Sadal Military Research Facility. Potat picked up the phone only to hear a clearly distressed Cabba on the other end. In complete silence, the tired king spent nearly 2 minutes listening to the shaken soldier's detailed description of the distress signal concerning the flying castle, the Tuffle trooper who sent it and the men who brutally slayed him. He ended it with the old woman's theories on Garlic Jr. Potat informed Cabba that he would think about it and call back within a few minutes. His subordinate then hung up. Potat did not drop the phone immediately. Instead, he reached over to the drawers on the other side of his bed. He sifted through them until he found a carefully tucked-away notebook, its slightly yellowed pages containing a bunch of phone numbers, some of which complete inventions. Potat flipped over to the very last page. This page was blank except for a miniscule phone number tucked away in the very bottom-right corner. The number read []. Potat once again reached over to the phone and dialed. The phone rung a few times.
"GODLINE IS NOT AVAILABLE AT THIS TIME." said a very handsome-sounding recording. "PLEASE LEAVE A MESSAGE AFTER THE-"
Potat slammed the phone down. He picked it up and tried to call again, but to no avail. The number had been given to him many years ago in case a crisis situation should occur which required some "additional help". That tone was intended as a placeholder since some sort of divine figure would normally instantly come over and answer no matter the time of day. The king scrambled out of his bed, now knowing something was very wrong.
Saonel and Pirina were still sitting on the same balcony they had been earlier that night. The sun was just about to start rising over the city, and as such very few people were up and about on the streets. The pair stared at the lights of the late night in silence; the horrible sensation from earlier had not weakened. In fact, it had gotten a little stronger since earlier in the night. The two Namekians had tried everything from meditation to sparring to ward it off, but nothing seemed to work. They were now trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. Saonel, by virtue of his superior Ki control, was getting closer to the answer than Pirina. It seemed to be… ...in the middle of space? It was moving slightly, however, and it was certainly getting closer. But it wasn't moving towards Sadal.
Before the Namek could trace the ominous energy further, he was interrupted by a Saiyan soldier flying just a few feet away from his head at high speed. He tried to return to his concentration, but then another one came by immediately after. And then another. And then another. Within a few seconds, the sky was nearly covered by an imposing congregation of Saiyan troopers and ships, Saonel and Pirina standing up to look on. The army seemed to all be convening to one spot: North from the Namekians' position towards the Palace of Sadal. The pair looked at each other, nodded and joined the soldiers in their flight.
Citizens living near the Palace were waking up and looking through their windows to see multiple platoons of soldiers aligning in formation in front of the government building's red door. All of the various screens normally broadcasting advertisements throughout the city flared to life, focusing on the growing military audience at the castle. Potat was standing on the front steps, Cabba, Kale and several other Saiyans in commander attire by his side. Among the soldiers flying into the lot were Saonel and Pirina, who came over to Cabba's side.
"What's going on?" asked Saonel. For the second time that night, Cabba explained the scene in the research facility. Saonel turned to see his burly green partner noticeably disturbed by the description. The group to stand next to their King until every soldier was stood before him, tanks and fighter ships crowding the streets in front of the castle. The ruler then spoke into a microphone.
"Citizens of Sadal, it has come to my attention that a crisis may be brewing. Just an hour ago, my loyal commander Cabba and some other personnel received a concerning message. Someone has restored the flying fortress of the tyrannical conqueror Garlic and killed all the men guarding it. In addition, in that message, we saw one of the men involved, and they look suspiciously like one of Garlic's old commanders. "
"I cannot stress this enough: Do not panic." Potat's booming voice echoed across the city via screens appended to all manner of buildings. "We cannot know for sure if these new forces will pose a significant threat to us. For this reason, we shall be sending out Cabba the Super Saiyan Squadron to Namek, the location we have deduced is most likely to be attacked. We are not fully aware of what kinds of weapons are stored within that base, so we should scout them out first. We shall also be sending two Namekians along on the trip to help them navigate the terrain. For the next few days or so, we shall have regular military patrols within and outside the city until we get further information on the gravity of the situation and how much of a threat it poses to us."
Nothing else had to be said at this point. While the normal soldiers adjourned, Cabba, Kale, Saonel, Pirina and several other soldiers piled into the sides of medium-sized carrier ships. The Saiyans put on blue helmets with visors and the same lion symbol on Potat's armor on the sides, while the Namekians stayed in their normal attire. The rest of Cabba's small but powerful troop stuffed inside their or one of 2 other ships before blasting offworld.