"You sure this is the place?" Kale asked into his com, surveying the crowd of assorted aliens. In the middle of the market square of Yardstae, an overpopulated hub for the working class, he leaned against an old metallic structure, pulling his jacket up around his neck as he waited for any kind of signal. It was mind-numbingly cold here.

And that was an understatement.

"This is always the place that Ner runs his operation from," Goten's reply came in a hiss of jumbled static. Kale squinted, finding the saiyajin smuggler across the market, mixing in quite well with a group of elders casting lots for pieces of stolen clothing. One of them shouted in victory, and took off in a sprint through the center of the arena. Like the rest of the figures, he became lost in a see of multiculturalism, merging with the masses that were all flowing in seemingly random synchronization.

As they had approached the planet, Goten suddenly had a wild hunch that he wanted to play, in order to get a head start before the Galactics did on siding with the underworld. The pilot had heard of the runner Ner beforehand, being mixed in with the freelancers himself. His reach spread far and wide, even to the corners of some of the Wayside sectors. And if they could get on his good side...

"And he said he'd be here?" Piccolo voiced his own opinion of the matter. Kale didn't much like it, either, but they had to take their chances. The kids were supposedly safe in the ship, but who knew how safe "safe" was anymore? He took a quick glance upward, spotting the Namekian observing from a distant loft. Surprisingly, he didn't quite stand out like a sore thumb here.

"Not exactly," Goten came back. "But he'll be here. I know it. He can't resist the kind of message I left him."

Kale nodded. If he knew the fringe, then Goten most certainly had a point. "Can't exactly turn your backs on a new 'Cloaker', can you?" Kale chuckled. The promise of a high-powered cloaking shield that could allow ships to hide themselves from some of the most powerful beings in the galaxy kind of had that effect on a people who were ilegally running operations behind their backs.

"I wouldn't," the saiyajin conceded. "And neither will he."

"I still don't like it," Piccolo said. "If we were followed..."

"If we were followed," Kale interrupted. "Then we were already screwed to begin with." Piccolo's pause on the other end of the com told him that the Namekian, however reluctantly, agreed. "What exactly are we dealing with, Goten?"

The saiyajin began to make his way to a small stand of unknown fruit, picking up pieces in his hand as he spoke quietly into his earpiece. "Ner himself is a pussycat, though his size and talk don't quite give off that first impression. His bodyguards on the other hand..." Goten eyed a particularly odd-looking delicacy for a period of time, and tossed some credits to the vendor, who thanked him in her own tongue. Taking a small bite as he pretended to browse, he continued. "First of all, they carry the specially designed KI sidearms."

"KI?" Piccolo growled.

Kale hissed between his teeth. "So it seems that not even you guys are bullet proof anymore."

"I stopped relying on my power level long ago, friend," Goten corrected the pilot. "It'll only get you in trouble." For a brief moment, Kale could have sworn that the man had given a quick glance towards Piccolo, but there was no way to be sure.

When Capsule Corp had gone universal in its expansion, the floodgates of enterprise had come crashing down. With the addition of nearly instant cross-galaxy travel years later through the "Gate" technology, every solar system had become up for grabs. Along with major corporations and rich power mongers, the mercernaries and guerillas had tagged along, working for hire to ensure that the property, and/or goods stayed in tact. The universe having become wide open, all kinds of beings with enormous power levels had begun to spring up left and right, and eventually, the non-ki manipulators were beginning to be muscled out of the very market that they had created for themselves. The only way to fight back was through the highly destructive KI series of weaponry that had been created through a surviving branch of the currently non-existent "Red Ribbon" entity. A Frengan scientist that was familiar with ki usage had developed power packs that harnessed massive amounts of energy that could be loaded into handhelds, firing a compact beam of ki at the user, often instantly killing them. As of late, the technology had developed even further, into a small sidearm that could be holstered on any belt...

For obvious reasons, this spelled doom for the ones who had once been held invincible in the eyes of many.

"Those things have been springing up far too often lately," Kale noted.

"I've noticed that myself," Goten paused as he crossed the square, still moving about nonchalantly.

"What do you think it means?" Piccolo asked.

"Who knows?" the saiyajin mused. He approached a small waste recepticle, and tossed his now-finished piece of fruit within. "Any number of things. Price drop, increased production, corporate mergers..."

The Namek growled. "I don't like it." Kale frowned. Through their time together, he had learned to trust Piccolo's sense of danger, and had often found himself observing the alien for any outward signs of concern or worry. If Piccolo didn't like the way a situation felt, he was usually on to something. So what could be going on here?

He shook the thoughts away. "I heard that Ner travels with a Larn... Is that true?"

Goten chuckled. "You sure know your smugglers." Kale decided to take that as a compliment. The saiyajin laughed, and then continued. "Yes, it's true. Big, menacing thing, too. It's name is Raland."

"Lovely." Kale shivered at just the thought. Through all of his experiences of freelancing for various big-wigs of the underworld, his worst one had been with the Larn. They stood at over seven feet tall, with arms the size of tree trunks, and stark ugliness to boot. This particular breed was as nasty as they were large, and he had heard and known nothing but trouble from them. If Ner had one working for him, then the trio definitely had their work cut out for them.

"Would that be our friend, now?" Piccolo suddenly asked. Kale shot his vision towards the green fighter, who merely nodded to the western end of the market.

"Give it a second," Goten answered, shuffling his way back to his original end near the gamblers. Kale narrowed his gaze, looking to where his friend had pointed. After a moment or two of confusion, he spotted it...

A large red-skinned alien, with a beard that flowed down the length of his torso, was stumbling his way drunkenly through the crowd. He was causing quite the commotion, bumping obnoxiously with several species who were paying watch to a bad Renian magician. About three meters to his right, the unmistakably enormous frame of the Larn could be spotted, manuevering his way towards the center with speed and nimbleness that was incongruous with his size. He deflty found his way to the trash recepticle to the eastern end, taking something from his pocket, and tossing it within. After a nod to an unseen individual, he moved back towards the western entrance, bumping into the red-skinned "drunk" on his way out. They exchanged knowing glances, and after another second or two of drunken stupor, the larger fellow made his exit as well.

"Interesting," Kale commented, looking to the trash bin. "May I?"

"Be my guest," Goten said. The human nodded at his approval, and made his way across the market, eventually coming to the basket on the eastern corner. Kneeling to the ground in an attempt to lace his boot, he reached within, grasping a hold of the small datacard that was taped to the top. For something so large, the Larn had definitely been highly skilled in the art of maintaining a cover. He had only been at the bin for a moment, which, for him, had been enough time to seal the datacard with a quick movement of his hand. Impressive...

"Got it," Kale informed his comrades, standing up as he placed the card within his coat.

"Sounds good," Goten's static reply sounded somewhat relieved. "Let's take this back to the Dissenter. Your ship does have a proper debug on it, doesn't it, Kale?"

"Ha," the pilot snickered. "You might as well ask if it has flying capabilities, too."

Goten seemed a bit irritated. "Point."

"Let's get out of here," Piccolo quickly reminded them of where they were in relation to everyone else. "I think someone's watching us."

Kale hissed between clenched teeth. He should have thought to check on that... It was just as well, though. They didn't have ulterior motives in meeting with Ner, and they planned on following up on their proposal. But still, the thought was quite unnerving.

"Piccolo's right," Goten muttered. "Back to the Dissenter, double-quick. Stay on-line, and make sure you're not followed."

"Gotcha. Kale out."

With a brisk turn, he made his way out of the opposite end of the square, making sure to follow the path amongst the backalleys he had already set out for himself. Whatever this datacard had on it, it was about to help make or break a long chain reaction of events...

For the sake of the resistance, Kale hoped that they had bought it.