Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

The broad-chested Namekian sat cross-legged before a small wooden bucket. It was brimming with the rainwater it had collected and was in desperate need of emptying, but the guards were nowhere to be seen. Clearly, they had grown tired of the extra labor. But for Slug, it was a much-welcome change. While the storm lasted, it meant that he could drink more, and it tasted far better than the crap they gave him in the tin cups. The water slipped in through a web of ceiling cracks, each droplet finding a home in the bucket. When it was completely full, Slug picked it up, pressed his frail dried mouth against its rim, and guzzled it back in one breath.

"Not going to share, friend?" A sly and devious-sounding voice came from across the hallway. Through the dark of night, it was difficult to see who it belonged to. There were no lights - much less running power - and the twin moons outside were hidden behind gloomy black clouds. Illumination came only in the form of lightning; fleeting bolts that provided less than a second of clarity. Across the way, behind a grid of metal bars, stood a short, purple humanoid with an abnormally long head. Broad yellow patches speckled his skin, and like Slug, he wore a coarse orange jumpsuit riddled with holes and stains.

Begrudgingly, Slug lowered the bucket from his lips. It was nearly empty, with less than a mouthful of water remaining.

"Well, friend?" the inmate enquired again. "You mustn't forget about poor Eluppa."

Eluppa, that was his name. A strange, octopus-like alien with bright red irises and a protruding fang - a distant relative of Appule and Orlen. Slug had heard stories about Eluppa, the crazed space pirate. He'd murdered many innocents in his tenure as a footsoldier for that conniving lizard, Frost. No wonder he was locked up in the Pinneyapple Penitentiary. Still, the two prisoners were isolated; condemned to the foulest cells in the complex with only each other for company.

For the next thirty seconds, Slug contemplated his response in silence. A rat scurried past him in search of food crumbs before vanishing into a tiny gap in the wall. "Tell me," he finally said. "The countless people you've killed, all the innocent lives you've ended in the pursuit of gold and treasure... do you regret any of it?" Slug's intimidating tone carried weight and demanded respect. It needed to, after all.

"But of course!" Eluppa answered. "Their screams of torment plague my dreams every night!" He didn't even try to conceal his dishonesty. Eluppa didn't care. A lifetime of pillaging and plundering desensitized him beyond redemption. He carried no remorse in his heart, no reason for forgiveness. In fact, if given the opportunity, Eluppa would gladly do it all over again, and Slug knew that.

"I thought so."

Without further consideration, the Namekian swallowed the last remaining drops of water, then placed the bucket down. Eluppa's facade of regret immediately shifted into a real display of shock and anger. "You drank it all!?" he screamed. "Why, you!... Grrr... When I get out of this place, you'll be the first person on my list! You've made a sworn enemy this day, you piece of crap!"

Instead of replying, Slug slowly rose from the ground, grumbling all the while. His muscles ached; his old bones were sore. Age had caught up with him, and being locked up in a dilapidated supermax prison - neglected and fed scraps - accelerated all these bodily nags.

The Pinneyapple Penitentiary was located on Planet Sadala. Lauded by King Sadala himself as the number-one correctional facility, it was constructed almost entirely of Katchin and housed the most dangerous criminals in Universe 6. However, it was in dire need of funding and maintenance. Disease was rampant, swarms of rodents prowled the halls, and perhaps worst of all, it was staffed with abusive officers who found perverse pleasure in tormenting the inmates - especially the high-profile ones. Slug was no exception. After a disagreement over his dietary requirements, Slug was beaten and thrown into solitary confinement. Now his cell was a ten-foot-squared cube with just enough room for a bed.

As the thunder roared outside, Slug staggered over to his filthy mattress. Cockroaches scuttled across it, but he carelessly brushed them off, then turned and took a seat.

"Hey!" Eluppa yelled. "You suddenly gone deaf or something!? I'm talking to you, don't ignore me!"

The Namekian did exactly that. He pivoted and lowered onto his bed. Closing his eyes, he focused on the sounds of rain and thunder, blocking out Eluppa's incessant rambling. For Slug, nature's orchestra was unmatched. The light pitter-patter of rainfall and thudding drums of distant stormclouds were a therapeutic escape. It reminded him of simpler times back on Namek. The rolling green hills and sprawling green oceans; the rocky cliffsides that were home to a dozen species of bird; the joyous laughter of his children playing and training.

My sons... Nucul... Pidoku...

A heavy crash of metal snapped Slug from his trance. His eyes shot open and his neck twisted. Outside his cell, a faint orange glow grew brighter and brighter as a pair of prison guards descended the stairwell. Eventually, two male Saiyans dressed in grey and tan uniforms emerged. The first held a blazing wooden torch and a stun baton. The other carried two food trays, each containing a small mound of brown unappealing slop.

"Supper time, maggots," announced the torch-wielder. "Come an' get it!"

"You'll like this one," the second added. "It's more of your favorite vitamin mush! I know you guys really can't get enough of it." A snide chuckle escaped his mischievous, grinning face. It was a complete lie, of course. Slug and Eluppa were fully aware of how revolting it tasted, but it was their only source of sustenance.

As they arrived outside the cell doors, the meal-bearing officer deliberately released his grip, allowing the two trays to drop. Brown paste instantly splattered all across the floor. "Oops, clumsy me. Clean up on aisle five!"

Eluppa was like a starved dog. Dashing over, he fell to his knees and reached through the metal bars to scavenge whatever he could. Slug, meanwhile, didn't move. He observed dispassionately from his bed as the guards sniggered and took turns prodding Eluppa with the stun baton.

"Look at this guy! What a loser... It's hard to believe someone like you was on Sadala's most-wanted list. You're nothing more than a filthy mongrel." A cacophony of laughter rang out. Each time Eluppa went to grab a handful of the smeared brown gloop, the guards delivered him a fierce electric shock.

"P-please!" the inmate begged, his voice reduced to a pain-stricken squeal. "L-let me just get a little something to eat! YOW!..." Eluppa cried as another jolt of electricity passed through his body, sending him into a wild convulsion.

The first officer then casually pivoted toward Slug's cell. He raised his flaming torch to dispel the shadows within and revealed the aged inmate lying on his shabby bunk. Slug watched on in silence; emotionless and uninterested. "Hey, check out the Namekian."

As if on cue, the second guard pried himself away from torturing the space pirate to focus on Slug. Eluppa seized the opportunity; quickly clawing food through the bars into his salivating mouth.

"Well, well, well... Not hungry today, I see. What's the matter, is it not good enough for you?"

"No... He doesn't think it is," replied the first, giving Slug no opportunity to answer. "You can read it on his face! He thinks our food is disgusting."

"What an ungrateful swine. Maybe we should teach him a lesson in respect..."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. Let's fix this guy's attitude!"

The torch-wielding Saiyan reached into his belt and retrieved a brass ring of keys. He passed it to his colleague, who began the arduous process of searching through them. A sinister smirk never faded from their lips. This was their outlet, their gratification. Beating the inmates gave them a twisted sense of pride and superiority, and the more their victims trembled, the greater pleasure they received from it. Slug understood the process. He remained calm and sat up, drawing in a deep breath as he mentally prepared himself.

"Found it yet?" the first guard asked impatiently.

"No," the second answered, growing frustrated. He was still scrambling through the dozens of different keys. "Why do you insist on keeping all the keys on this one blasted ring!? I can never find the one we need."

"Because at least I know where they all are, then! Give it 'ere." He reached for the ring, offering to help, but the second guard pulled away.

"No, no, I got it."

The first guard stretched for it again, this time grabbing a few of the keys. "No, you don't. Look, you've already gone past it! Give it."

"No, I didn't! Get off."

Slug just stared in bemusement as the two guards started to wrestle for control of the ring like jostling oafs. Even Eluppa paused to watch their scuffle, somewhat baffled by their childish behavior. It continued for several minutes until the struggling grunts were replaced by desperate gasps of exhaustion.

"E-... enough," the first guard said, panting. He was hunched over, one hand on his knee, taking in lungfuls of air. He aimed his fiery torch at Slug, "You're lucky... So damn incredibly lucky... You'll get your punishment some other time, c'mon."

Defeated, he shoved the officer holding the key ring back and gestured to the stairwell. The two stumbled away, bumping into one another as they ascended the steps, grumbling, slurring, and cursing. As they disappeared, the orange light dimmed and, eventually, the dark of night returned to veil everything in its perpetual gloom.

A caterwaul of maniacal laughter broke the short silence that followed. It came from across the way as Eluppa stood to his feet and brushed his coveralls down. "That's interesting," he said in his typically conniving tone. "They hate you way more than they hate me!... Come, tell Eluppa; what exactly did you do to wind up in this dump? Murder? Piracy? Bribing politicians!?"

Like before, Slug couldn't see Eluppa, at least not clearly. The Namekian gathered his thoughts to contemplate a response carefully. He wasn't impetuous, after all. Everything needed to be done with consideration and attentiveness. His answer would need to be calculated, so as to not give too much away, especially to this unhinged convict whom he'd already developed a strong disliking.

"I refused to participate in the Tournament of Power."

Again, Eluppa broke out into a crazed cackle. "Ohoho! Ohoho... That's a good one!" He wiped a stray tear from his eye and continued hollering. "At least it's something original!... Now, what did you really do?"

The Namekian didn't answer him this time, giving rise to yet another unsettling quiet. The cogs in Eluppa's brain started to turn over and over, processing the information presented to him. Finally, after several seconds had passed, he reached a verdict. "You're telling the truth, aren't you?" he said. "Ohohoho, now that's screwed up!"

Slug agreed with the sentiment. It wasn't fair. To be thrown into the Pinneyapple Penitentiary over a declined invitation was a gross abuse of the justice system. But it wasn't a judge who sentenced him; there was no court or tribunal involved. It was a royal decree, an order straight from King Sadala himself. Before his arrest, Slug had never met the Saiyan King, he'd only ever heard of him through stories and news articles, or whenever the vendors arrived carrying word from the North Galaxy. He was meant to be a symbol of nobility, a beacon of righteousness; an anchor for the whole universe. Instead, as the Namekian was bound in chains before him, he appeared deeply ashamed. He already knew of Slug's torment, the crippling agony he'd endured before he was dragged from his dwelling on Namek and brought to the royal palace. The Saiyan King felt sickened and guilted. Still, the die was cast, and Slug was taken to live the rest of his years behind bars.

"I mean, what the hell was going through your mind!?" continued Eluppa. "You were asked to fight for our existence... And you said 'no'!?" It was at that point Slug realized he wasn't showing him sympathy, or even feigning it. "Ohohohoh, you really are an evil bastard! If it wasn't for Universe 7 wishing us back, we'd all still be erased! No wonder you're locked up in here..."

"There is far more to the story than you'll ever know," Slug retorted, his deep voice lowering even further to an irate growl.

"Enlighten Eluppa, come on. Don't be coy, friend."

The Namekian tightened his hands into white-knuckled fists. A vindictive desire to beat and strangle his fellow inmate had quickly built, but Slug knew that it was ultimately pointless. The space pirate was a lunatic through and through; unchanged and lacking any social etiquette. Even if Slug did knock him about a bit, Eluppa would still be himself afterward. Besides, two sets of metal bars separated them, and Slug couldn't do much about that. As swift as it arose, Slug's anger subsided. He took in a deep breath and released a long, drawn-out sigh.

"Mind your own damn business," Slug said before lying down again. He nestled his head into a straw-filled hessian sack - his pillow - and glanced up at the shadowy ceiling. Lightning flashes shone in through a barred, half-moon aperture at the top of the wall. Occasional raindrops were blown in by the wind, dousing Slug's face like sea spray, but nowhere near enough to fill a drinking bucket.

"Grrr... You're no fun!" Eluppa exclaimed. The space pirate slouched against his cell wall, slurping up more splashed remnants of brown slop from between the filthy floor tiles.

Meanwhile, Slug's mind wandered back to Namek again. To his sons, his village, and his tribesmen. He missed the serenity of a simple life; when he harvested crops and trained the younglings. The people came to acknowledge him as their leader, and yet, Slug viewed himself as simply one of them. He worked in the fields and contributed to the collective prosperity of the tribe, as any other member would. Whenever something threatened their home, Slug was there on the front line, defending with his fellow warriors. Whenever relations with another tribe were dwindling, Slug was there bearing gifts and shaking hands with the diplomats. In time, all of Namek came to admire Slug. The Namekian Council - a committee comprised of all the tribal leaders - was even ready to bestow him the prestigious title of Grand Elder, with the ritual preparations already underway.

But that all changed when the fat purple cat descended from the sky.