The world was boiling.

Heat shimmered in the air and blistered the sand, transforming the golden-brown dust dunes into scores of searing granules. Under the sun's blood-stained gaze even the wind offered no respite from the scalding air, instead it threw up dust storms the size of small towns, blotting out the sun but casting thousands of microscopic grains of burning sand into the faces of anything that dared step onto the surface. Even under shadow, they were not safe from burning.

And below the surface it wasn't much better. Even down here, the granite and obsidian corridors shimmered with burning air, as though the air was seconds from turning into water, transforming what was usually a respite from the sun's scorching gaze into a boiler of its own. Without airflow, even the usually-cool rock turned oppressive, trapping heat in with the sweltering denizens of the cave system, their sole respite being that they were free from the sun. The people here sat around, far from one another, at times at the entrance of the cave, praying for a gust of wind to come through and wash away even a fraction of the heat that beleaguered their emaciated, hungry bodies. Seeking any reprieve from their boiling flesh and screaming abdomens...

All of them... Aside from two.

Inside of the mess hall, in the deepest layer of the cave, far from the sun and the wind, two beings stood only inches apart from one another. Drawn together by the heat and the need for food, two men had come into the mess hall, where the women, some of the elderly, and the children had all congregated together, seeking the same thing. But of course, in a world where the people had started to go hungry and the heat had started become overbearing, it was only a matter of time before tensions matched the temperature and present feuds erupted like agitated volcanos.

Long rust-colored fingers bent around sun-kissed skin, shutting the airways of the man's throat as tightly as they could without killing him outright, leaving the man just enough space to let out strangled gurgles as he pounded against the stalwart metal arm connected to the ivory-colored shoulder.

"Its been too long..." Frieza whispered, tightening his grip as beads of sweat dripped between his fingers from the man's neck. "Since I've choked someone to death." His eyes were wide, and like the sun they burned into the man, scalding the flesh of his sunken cheek with almost invisible Ki waves, them like the shimmers in the air. To match his sadistic gaze, a manic grin had fastened itself onto his lips, one that tightened wider, letting cracks form against his dark purple lips, as Frieza began to tighten his grip. "Ah... But I haven't forgotten how to do it right... How to squeeze just enough that you won't die immediately. To torture you just enough..."

Across from him, Merce pounded uselessly at his arm with both fists, trying vainly to free himself from the Arcosian's grasp. His foot lashed out against Frieza's chin, but the impact might as well have been smothered by a pillow, the Arcosian's face hardly even budged... Yet he had felt it, if the slowly clutching fingers were any indication... Centimeter by centimeter, Frieza felt Merce's throat tighten in his hand. Any moment now and those noises he was making would shut off, and only a few moments after that, the rest of his body would follow.

Drops of sweat trickled down the Arcosian's face and fell into his eyes. A shooting pain as salt dripped into them, but Frieza's gaze only slightly wavered, him blinking away the pain as he stared up into Merce's haggard face, watching what little life remained in him start to drift away as strikes from his boney hands began to soften more and more. One thin arm dropped, then the other stopped punching and reverted to clutching tightly to Frieza's arm as his eyes slowly began to drift down...

"Stop!" A woman's voice screamed in Frieza's ear. "You'll kill him! Please!" Hoda's hands came now- gaunt and thin like Merce's, but less so- gripping Frieza's dirt-orange cybernetic, trying to pull him away. "You can't!"

In that moment, Frieza was made aware of his surroundings. The few people in the Mess stood around them in a circle. Mothers held children tightly, scared boys and girls huddled in the false safety of their parents arms, peering through the gaps in their fingers with a morbid, childlike curiosity.
And fear.

"Shut up!" Frieza snapped his attention to the woman, his teeth gnashing together as he did, causing an audible snap in the air as his teeth clacked. Still baring his teeth at her, he continued through them. "He should have known better! I've been here for months! He should know by now to leave his snide remarks to himself!" Frieza's face snapped back in Merce's direction and he eased his grip ever so slightly, letting him live for just a few more moments. "I will tolerate his existence. I will tolerate putting up with you heathens. I will even tolerate being made to do menial tasks as required by our deal..." His voice lowered as his hand started to tighten again, this time... "But one thing- one thing I refuse to accept is to be mocked by the likes of him!"

For months, Frieza had suffered at the hands of these fools. Doing their so-called chores in place of the men who would usually be doing them. Being reduced to some kind of workhorse for the weak and sniveling beasts who resided here. How much had he done for them? Standing in their guard posts day after day, watching for predators? Watching their brats whenever they deigned to go outside or rescuing them when they took off into the desert in search of whatever mindless goal they come up with? Or worse, being forced to stand in as hunter, shoved out into the unforgiving heat for the day, searching vainly for food in a place that bore no fruit and held no animals! How much had he done for these inferior creatures only for them to turn around and look upon him- him, Frieza!- As though he was the freak of nature!? Who were they to treat him so terribly when he has given so much to them?
No... No, he had put up with their wretchedness for too long. Too long. And now...

He turned to face away from the woman, towards the man clutched in his hands. Merce. His greatest enemy. The one who spoke most openly about him. The one who attacked him at every turn, the one who was at the center of it all. If he died- if he was gone- then surely the rest would silence.

But just as Merce's windpipe closed entirely, a new voice emerged from the other side of the room. "PUT!" Frieza's head snapped over to the new interloper, as did everyone else. Once Frieza realized who it was, his face twisted into a snarl. "HIM!" Metal feet clacked against granite as the man stormed up to Frieza and looked him dead in the eyes. "Down." Bendez's voice lowered as his face leaned in, inches away from Frieza's.

For a moment, Frieza was quiet, simply glaring back at Bendez. But then. "Make me." Frieza's eyes narrowed.

"No." Bendez said. "You'll put him down on your own." The spark of calm in his throat put Frieza on edge, and then Bendez jutted a finger at Merce as he started growing limp in Frieza's grip. "Because if he dies, so help me God, you will not leave this planet alive."

He wasn't... Threatening him. Frieza knew as well as Bendez that there was no way that they could kill him if they tried. No...
No, it was much worse than that. Bendez was going to refuse his travel back home...

Thud.

Merce's body dropped and he gasped for air, spluttering and coughing as he rolled onto his side, heaving his chest up and down with every breath. Frieza stood almost frozen in place as he stared at Bendez, slowly setting his hand back at his side. "He'll live." The Arcosian then stepped forward, shouldering Bendez out of his way before making his way through the gathered crowd and towards the door.

He was done here.

Merce stumbled into the pitch-black office, clutching his neck. Blood didn't seem to be seeping through his clawed hands, but he couldn't be sure of it. That monster might have torn something open, something his cybernetics wouldn't be able to feel easily. They weren't designed to be good at picking up the sensation of touch, not like a child's or a caretaker's cybernetics. No, these were built for tearing flesh and digging deep into Dunemaker carapaces, holding their wearer's tightly to the beasts as even as they were dragged-

Merce winced and his other hand slapped against the wall, searching for the groove that denoted where the switch would be. He slid against the wall on the right side, searching for the switch as he went. The infirmary was new, but Merce was sure that the light had to be somewhere here, after all the rest of the building was wired the same way, and so was the ship. Everything was on the right, so it only made sense that the light switch would be there as well. He kept looking, wincing and gritting his teeth as metal grinded on stone, splitting the rock wall and dulling his blades. He'd have to get new ones, or get these sharpened again- either way, Ford would chew him out for it as he always did... Merce wouldn't really complain if he did right then though, he'd kill to see the doctor in his condition.

Moments ticked by and Merce felt lightheaded. His eyes drifted down against his will and he slumped against the wall. His whole body ached. Not only that, but it was also drenched. Sweat dripped from every pore, soaking his face. His matted brown hair was greasier than usual and it hung over his dark eyes like a curtain, forcing him to move his hand away from the wall and sweep it over his face to get it out of his way. He swayed unsteadily as he did, and quickly forced himself to lean in closer to the wall, breathing heavily.

It hurt to breathe. Like his windpipe was still being constricted. Like he could still feel that animal's hand still against his throat, clamping down harder and harder and harder and-
He gasped, wheezing a breath in. 'Breathe.' He told himself. 'Just breathe.' His whole body felt hotter- a stress reaction. Adrenaline was pumping through him even harder as he flashed back to the moments. Even though he knew it wasn't there, his hand clenched tightly, gripping onto the imaginary arm in his mind, holding it tightly as he internally prayed that it would let go. The memory played out in his vision, freezing him solid. 'Just breathe... Just...' His mind ordered it, and his body reluctantly responded.

His mouth gaped wide as he sucked in as much air as he could. It still hurt to breathe. Every breath was agony, and it didn't help that this place hadn't seen much airflow since it was built a few months back. The only saving grace was the lack of dust, but trading that for stale air wasn't much better. He stumbled forward another few paces. Where the hell was that damn li-

Snap!

The lights came on, jolting the man up and causing him to look behind him, only for him to release the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Next to him, a figure moved and he felt soft hands against his shoulders.

"Hey..." Hoda said softly. Merce's shoulders relaxed more, glad to see his close friend. He had been worried for a moment that the alien had come back to finish the job, but seeing her here flooded him with relief. He swallowed, and it hurt less, before replying.

"Hey..." He gives her a nod before leaning back against the wall. "How bad's it look?" Gingerly, he pulls his other hand away from his neck. The pressure gone, it felt like torture, Merce could only imagine how it looked- a thick bruised line all across his throat, indents and cuts at the places where the alien had squeezed hardest.

Hoda sucked her breath in through her teeth, her other hand coming up to gently take Merce's arm and pull the man towards a nearby chair. "Its... Pretty bad." She lowered Merce down into the chair, but kept her hand on his back so that he would be forced to sit up. "You're not bleeding though, that's good." Her other hand slips up from his arm to gently touch his neck. Merce winces as soft, warm, metal gently runs across his injuries, blinking away tears as Hoda touches a particularly bruised spot. "You're probably going to need something for the pain and something to cool the area." Once she's satisfied with her check, she steps away from the man and moves back towards another part of the room, finally letting Merce lay back. A grunt escapes his lips as he does- even the back of his neck feels like its been twisted in a vice. That demon must have not been lying, he knew how to make it hurt without immediately killing him. He couldn't even lay down without his neck feeling torn to pieces.

Merce forced himself to look forward, focusing on anything other than the pain. Here, he was able to take in the small medical bay that had been constructed. While hardly as sterile or nice as the one they'd had on the ship, this place was serviceable. Dim orange lights hung from the ceiling, bathing the place in almost sickly orangish-yellow glow, like his optical cybernetics had been tinted. It was almost like the heat had transformed the air itself, changing its color. On one half of the room was the door and the switch Merce had failed to find- which had been placed on the left side of the door this time- and on the other half was Hoda, who searched through old medical bags and metal desks, hunting for something to help him. In the center of it all was this chair. Made from Skyflier feathers and rattle-leather, it wasn't the most comfortable place in the world, but it would have to do for now.

"Gotcha." Hoda says, pulling something out of a metal desk before stepping towards Merce again, applying whatever she'd grabbed onto her hands. "This might sting a little, but we use it with the kids all the time whenever they get hurt, it'll help the bruising." She gently kneels down at his side and runs her fingers over his neck again, this time the feeling is accompanied by something else, a feeling like being touched by metal left in the shade too long, sending a jolt through his body. He hadn't been expecting that. Once more, he grimaces, but bites his tongue to keep from making any noise. It wasn't so bad, having her touch him like this. Her slender fingers ran across his throat again, starting slow and soft, transitioning in increments, applying more and more pressure to his neck, rubbing the cool substance in deeper with every go around. "This will help with the pain, maybe even cool you off a little." She tells him, still working the stuff into his neck. "Healing is going to be up to you though." She lets out an annoyed sigh. "That man..." She mutters. "I'm glad my father's having a chat with him now. What happened this morning was an overstep, it shouldn't have happened."

"Inviting him here shouldn't have happened." Merce snorts.

"Well... I don't think I agree with that." Hoda moves her hand away from Merce's neck, though only to spray more of the gel onto her fingers. While looking down at her hands, she goes on. "He helped us get to this place. Built it for us." Merce opened his mouth to retort but clams up at a glare. He bit his tongue, waiting for her to finish, though his lips were turned down, disapproving. "You know the old ship was falling apart. We couldn't stay there for much longer. Even with the repairs they're doing on it now... I think this was a good place for us to move." Merce sighs, shutting his eyes and letting himself relax. Despite the heat, he stops sweating. Despite the anxiety still going off in his chest and the adrenaline pumping through his organic body, his eyes closed. In here, away from the sun and next to Hoda... It felt good, relaxing. "And we needed him to make it happen for us." She leans forward again, curling both hands around his neck this time, gently applying the cool sensation once more. "I don't think saving him from the desert was a mistake. He hasn't been that bad."

"Not that bad?" Merce's eyes snap open and he turns to look at her, wincing only slightly as his bruised neck stings. "He almost killed a kid, Hoda." It didn't surprise him that Hoda was sticking up for him, she had always been too soft on things. Once, when they were a few years younger and her husband had been alive, she'd come across a baby Skyflier. Rolls, being who he was, had let her keep the beast. He never could say no to her. Merce on the other hand, knowing what it would grow into if it was allowed, had been waiting for the day that it made its move. Sure enough, once it came of hunting age it wasn't long before the monster tried to tear its "mother" apart. Rolls and him had been there to stop it then, but now... Now it was all up to him to keep her safe when she adopted a threat.
And he wasn't going to let her get herself killed. "He's a monster."

"He was recovering and acclimating to this place when that happened! Its been months since then and he hasn't done anything like that since! Not up until today and I frankly can't be mad at him for it! If we keep treating him like an animal he's going to lash out like one! That's just how people are, Merce!" She says, pulling her hands away from his neck as Merce sits up to fully look at her. The gel already was doing wonders, turning his bruises numb while cooling him off, giving the man the opportunity to put all his focus on the woman in front of him, unburdoned by the pain... Though missing her touch.

His face hardened, lips pulled up in a look of disapproval and eyes downcast, forcing himself to look as stern as he could. But only for a moment. His features softened. Rolls might not have been able to tell her no when her womanly instincts kicked in, but Merce couldn't be angry with her, not really. He loved her too much for that. Hoda though, she took his expression as a sign of submission and pressed on. "He's not as bad as you think he is." She says gently, taking Merce's hands in her own. "I know that sounds... Insane to say when you just went through what you did, but I've seen him with my daughter." Her tone grows softer, her voice quieter as she smiles softly. Merce knew that look, it meant she was reflecting... Worse, it meant she was romanticizing the memories in her mind. "She's never in danger so long as she knows his boundaries. She lets him go when he's had enough of her and gives him space." Her soft look fades, turning more stern, more upset as she looks up at Merce. "And when you and everyone else ignores and pushes those boundaries, what do you expect to happen? I'm not blaming you for his actions, but you need to be able to recognize when you're the one creating conflict. He just wants to be left alone."

Merce closes his eyes and takes a breath. His head tilts down towards the ground, and he feels Hoda's hands, come up to hold his face as she stands, gently running her soft fingers against his cheeks. "I'm sorry that this happened to you." She cares. He loves her for that, so much. She's the sweetest woman in the village, and she cares so much about everyone.

But that's the problem.

She cares too much about everyone.
Too much for her own good.

"He's a murderer, Hoda." Merce says softly, looking up at the woman now. "He's bragged about it before. You've heard the stories, he tells them openly." And it was true, he did. Merce had never seen such an open, such a remorseless killer in his entire life. It wasn't often that he told those stories. Whether asked to avoid them by Bendez or simply because he preferred to think about other times in his life, it didn't matter. That alien had the gall to tell the entire village about his exploits throughout space. Some of them had been benign, sure. But there was talk about death. Of murder. Gleefully, one time, he told the tale of how he wiped away an entire world with but one finger.

Merce didn't know the Saiyans, but he sympathized with them. They had served him, lived under him, faithfully. They were to him as the village was to Bendez.
And he killed them all.

To think that such a monster had been invited into their home, to think that he was allowed to go near their children.

"He's a murderer, and I'm not going to be able to live with myself if he hurts any one of you. What if one of these days Yota "goes over the line" and he shoots her? Or what if it's you he kills? Or Bendez? Volks? Nissa?" Merce shakes his head fiercely. "I'm not going to let that happen."

Hoda goes silent, her face falling.

"He's just like the Skyflier, Hoda. The only difference is that he's already fully grown. Its only a matter of time before he explodes, and I want to be there to keep you all safe when it happens." He takes her hands in his, holding them up to his face and shutting his eyes. "If anything happened to you, I don't know what I would do." Losing Rolls had been hard on him. He'd been his best friend ever since they were kids. He'd persevered though. For Hoda and Yota's sakes, he stayed strong, comforted them when they needed him, gave them as much support as he knew Hoda would need. He hadn't had the chance to mourn himself until well after Frieza had arrived, months after Rolls passed. It didn't matter though. Keeping them safe, giving them what they needed... It's what Rolls would have wanted.

But losing Hoda? Losing her... It was painful to even imagine. She was his everything. Rolls had been her true love, and she had been his... But ever since they were children, Merce had always seen her as...
He couldn't lose her too. He couldn't.

He wouldn't.

She opens her eyes again, looking down at him for a moment before her eyes narrow slightly. "So what?" She sniffs, emotions trying their hardest to escape her eyes but she held them back, refusing them. "Your big plan to keep him from killing us is to, what, make him kill you?" Her hands pull out of his grip, now settling on her hips. "Is that it? Is this another one of your self-sacrificing episodes?"

"Hoda-" Merce reaches his hand out and almost grabs hers, but she yanks away.

Shaking her head, her eyes stay open as she looks down at him, disgust written in her eyes. "No, don't even try it. This is just like what happened after Rolls died!"

"Its nothing like that! When Rolls died, I did everything I could to make sure you were all safe!"

"By throwing your life away in some impossible hunt!? You weren't going to kill the Sandflier on your own!"

"I was going to-"

"You were going to DIE!"

Her voice echoes throughout the small room. Hoda pulls away from him, fighting off tears and turning her head away, trying to keep her lips from twitching down... And failing. As the echo leaves, Merce moves to speak but Hoda shakes her head at him. "You can't keep acting like you're the only person who knows what's best for us." She shuts her eyes, reaching her palms up to clear building tears. "You can't keep acting like your life is expendable." She says softly. "None of us want you to die, not even him." Unable to bring herself to look at him again, the woman stares at the doorway, blinking away tears. "Stop trying to get yourself killed. Stop acting like you're some big hero. You're just a man. And we need you, Merce."

Hoda closes her eyes again, looking down and breathing deeply to steady herself before continuing. "I'm not asking you to treat him like you like him. I'm not asking you to treat him like an old friend, or even like he's not dangerous because I know he is." She looks up at him with tears running down her face. "But he doesn't always have to be that way. He isn't always that way. All I'm asking is for you to treat him like a person." Voice barely above a whisper, she manages to clear her tears and push them out of her throat as she speaks. "Yota does. I do. That's all he wants. Treat him like a person, Merce."

Hoda didn't look at him as she walked out, and Merce didn't look at her as she left either. After a moment, the door to the room slammed shut and the man was left alone in the orange-tinted room. He lifted one hand up to his neck, gently feeling the odd sensation left behind by the drying gel. His neck hurt.
But not nearly as much as his heart did.

A small orange light swung from side to side above his head, carving a path through the stale air, giving the stuffy room an insignificant bit of airflow. Shadows and light danced with each other, fighting for which among them should hold dominion over the small cave, the light at center or the darkness hiding at the edges. Frieza's gaze focused on the bulb, transfixed on the dancing light as he tuned out the annoyed tone of the man sitting across from him. In one hand was a waterskin made from Dunemaker hide, he took a small drink from it as he looked up at the orange light before setting it down, furrowing his brow at the almost hypnotic way that the light swung from side to side.

Slowly his hand came up of its own accord, shifting past the shadows as the bulb swung in one direction and pushing past the light and snatching the swinging bulb between two red-dusted fingers, forcing an end to the war. At once the center of the room had found its balance- set aglow with the jack-o-lantern colors of the tepid bulb while the rest of the room took to the unforgiving shadow like bats, only small slivers of reflective material shining through the blanket of darkness, reflecting the orange glow back at its center, as though they were stars all of their own.

Bendez's chair screeched against the ground and the man's rawboned hands slammed down onto the desk with a thud like the sound of cargo slapping against the wall of a ship. "Are you even listening to me?" Yet despite the sound, Frieza merely lowered his gaze back down towards the man, hale eyes glaring into gaunt ones as the Arcosian considered his next move.

"Yes. I have been..." He yawns, lazily drifitng his eyes back to look up at the other man, taking in his scraggy, disheveled, beard and wizened face. The man hadn't been eating, like many others in the caves. Frieza had picked up on this fact, though he'd mostly ignored it up to now- he himself hardly ate more than a few scraps every few months. "Doing his part" to ensure that others had the chance to eat hadn't been enough apparently, if even their fearless leader was skipping meals. "You just haven't been saying anything worth responding to." Frieza lowers his body back into his chair and Bendez followed suit. "Its not like I killed him. He'll live, unfortunately." Frieza scowled and leaned forward, scraping metal against metal as his arms raised to set on the table, grinding the desk and leaving long white scratch lines up its surface as he leaned closer to Bendez until they were merely a foot apart. "So, if that's all this was about, then I have no reason to stay here." Frieza replies and moves to stand.

But as the chair rakes its way against the floor. "No, its not just about him! If this keeps up, you're going to end up killing someone!" Bendez slams his hand back down on the table with a resounding crack, this time grabbing the Arcosian's attention. "Something needs to give before that happens. Either you or them, and you're the guest here-"

"Oh is that so? Do you usually have your guests do your chores or is that a recent addition?" Frieza retorts and sits back down, crossing his arms. "I don't need to change. They do. The terms of our deal are simple. I do the work that the men can't while they're out building the ship and they build the ship." A snide smile crosses his lips before dropping into a glare. "I'm not expected to play nice with senile old fools, nor women nor their brats." He leans forward. "If anything, they should be the ones expected to play nice with me! I provide security. I built their new home!" He threw his hands up towards the cave. "I thought of the solar panels, I brought the solar panels!" He stands, eyes blazing. "I've done all of this, and what do I get? Insults, insubordination, disrespect!" Gesturing towards Bendez now, Frieza continues. "And you expect me to treat them well? If we were anywhere but here, I would have killed everyone in this colony a hundred times over! But I..." He breathes, stepping back. "I have been very well restrained."

Bendez is silent for a moment, eyes focused down towards the desk in front of him as he gathered his thoughts. "Its true." He says after a moment. "You've done a lot for us, and I'm thankful for it. I'm sure there are a lot of people out there who feel the same, but you have to understand..." He looks up towards the other man. "That's not enough for people to like you when you're constantly threatening their lives. People are going to react based on how you treat them, and I don't think its a hard sell to say that you haven't been treating them very well in person!"

"I don't want them to like me." Frieza scoffed. "I want them to fear me. To respect me."

"That's not-" Shaking his head, the man quickly stands up and steps away from Frieza, who smirks as he turns around and takes a few seconds to breathe. After those moments are up, Bendez turns around to face the smallish Arcosian, taking a few steps towards him as he does. "Those aren't-" He stops himself and looks away for a moment, his chest heaving beneath his cloak with a rhythm like that of a clock as he simmers. Smirking at the man's irritation, Frieza wipes his brow and takes up his waterskin, taking another small drink as he prepared a retort against whatever Bendez would say next.

Then at last, Bendez manages to speak. "So what? They're not scared of you? Was Hoda begging you not to kill Merce not enough fear for you? Or when the old men refuse to look you in the eye- is that not what fear is in your Empire? Or when mothers pull their children away from you when you pass by? What exactly is fear in your Empire?" Voice quaking like someone had taken a jackhammer to his ribcage, rising in volume as it does, Bendez takes his step back towards the Arcosian. "Because all that, and even what Merce did- that's born from fear down here!"

"Fear?" Frieza cocks his head and lifts an eyebrow at the man. "Those little comments when they don't think I'm listening? Their looks when they don't think I'm looking? The lack of respect when they address me!? That's the reaction fear creates in these worms-"

"Don't call them that-"

"-that you call subjects?!"

Aura erupting from his body, dust erupting from the ceiling and bursting down into a haze around them as he powers up, Frieza gestures towards the door. "Those bastards out there have no respect for anyone! Even you!"

Bendez jumps back with wide eyes that quickly narrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"Even you, with all your "democracy" and all your "listening" are looked on and spoken of as a weak leader! I hear what they say about you! How you can't feed them or how much they hate this place, or how much you have failed them by bringing me into their homes." Through grit teeth and narrowed eyes, the Arcosian spits only venom... But smiles in sweet satisfaction as Bendez's face drops, his golden eyes sinking towards the floor, the old man's expression turning inward as he tried to repress himself. Then, as though the last few moments of rage had vanished into the darkness, Frieza's snide smile grows as his voice lowers. "Oh yes..." He says sweetly, stepping towards the man now. "They hate you!" He extends a finger towards the other man now while taking a step forward. "I am merely the byproduct of your failures. To them, I might be the boogeyman. But you're the person-" Frieza crosses the table, jutting a finger into Bendez's chest- "Who let him in."

Then, stepping back, Frieza tilts his head back up, staring at the fiery glow of the light once again, letting it dance in his eyes as it dulls. "And if they treat you, someone they care for, this way... How else do you expect them to treat me?" Turning his gaze back onto the man, who's head had fallen, Frieza continues. "Now, to be clear... I don't care that they hate me. I don't even care about their little comments, not really..." His smug smile falls, turning into a look that has killed. "No, it bothers me that I'm disrespected so outwardly. So fix that, why don't you? Hold a vote or something." He snickers and turns away, moving towards the door. 'Ah, the sweet sensation of crushing a man's spirit. Just what I needed after earlier...'

Just as his hand touched the door, Bendez spoke.

"You're wrong."

"Eh?" Frieza twists to face the man, scowling again. "I'm what? I'm the one who's forced to stay here all day and pay attention to these animals while Merce dicks around in the desert! I know-"

"Very little." Bendez takes a step forward now as he takes a breath. "They're allowed to have their own opinions, Frieza. It hurts, but I already knew they hated me for bringing you here. It's not a surprise." He shrugs, but then cocks his head slightly. "That doesn't mean they hate me. It means they've got gripes, an ax to grind. Just like they do with you. The difference between us though? I'm going to do something about it. I've known about the comments about you or how I brought them here, how much they miss the ship, I've known about them for a while now." He admits, but Frieza's eyes narrow.

"If that's the case then what was with that look?" Truly, Frieza didn't care about how the man felt. But that look from before, that look like someone had shot his favorite pet... That didn't come from nowhere.

"I'll give you one thing." A single silver finger splits the darkness in front of him, reflecting the orange light into a hideous golden color that Frieza shrinks back from, his own heart rate increasing for only a moment. "I have been failing them. But not by bringing you. Not by moving us out of that ship." He shakes his head. "You're a bastard of the highest order, I'll give you that. You're also a danger to my people... But you've done your job. Kept 'em safe, even from yourself. Up until today, counting from that incident three months ago, you've kept your hands off of them, you helped them move from the ship to the Plateau. You brought power to this place. Helped us make it a home just like I asked." Still shaking his head, he goes on. "No... I failed them because I can't feed them here. When I scoped this place out... I was only thinking about getting us out of that deathtrap. I didn't think hard enough about food or water... That's how I failed them." That look again, his eyes falling, searching for anywhere but Frieza's eyes, his face dropping like gravity had conspired to pull his expression.

Frieza's eyes light up. "This wasn't about Merce." His arms cross. "You want me to help you find food for the starving masses."

Slowly, the man offers him a soft nod before taking a breath. "You've been out there before and caught nothing. Merce's been out there dozens of times to little success... So... I was thinking." He looked back up to Frieza, who's eyes dug into him like knives. "You two go out there together. Your powers with his tracking ability, you two could cross a hundred miles in a day. You could find a hive of Dunemakers and-"

"I'll stop you right there." Frieza interjects, holding up his hand at the older man. "Because I have no intention of doing anything with that man. And even if I did-" Frieza mocks a chuckle- "I don't feel like saving your people, Bendez." Frieza finishes. "Go out with Merce yourself and do it." He shrugs, then smirks. "Besides, I'm doing you a favor. You'll eventually need to be self-sufficient. Even if I do find you a treasure trove of food "a hundred miles away", how do you intend to continue collecting that food and bringing it back here? Hm?" Frieza lets out a real chuckle now, turning away. "But that's a you problem-" Flipping a wave over his shoulder, the Arcosian turns back to the door, but the older man calls out.

"Wait! You could use this to get on people's good sides!" Frieza stops, noting the etch in the man's voice as he speaks. Snickering as desperation gives itself away, no longer hidden behind the veneer of a wise old man. "You'd be saving dozens of lives! People might be willing to let things go!"

"Pass." Frieza waves him off, smirking now. "Like I said, I don't want them to like me. It frankly doesn't bother me, so long as the men continue to work-"

"The men are dying!" Bendez responds, and Frieza's attention snaps back towards him. Bendez steps forward and opens his eyes again, casting a projection from them into the darkness, revealing images. If the people here were emaciated, then these men were anorexic, with stomachs so thin and skin so tightly pulled that bones were visible. Sunken eyes and hollow cheek bones met, transforming healthy young men into zombies meant for the grave. "Someone had to get less... And in a situation like this, where the women and children need it more... It was them. They'd rather die than have their families go, but I'm not going to let that happen. You're not going to let it happen." Bendez focuses back onto Frieza's eyes. "Even if you hate us all, you need them." Shutting down the projection, Bendez crosses his arms. "So, still not going to help? Because unless you want to spend the rest of your life here after we've all starved to death, I'd suggest suiting up."

Frieza glared at the man for a moment, frowning deeply. He couldn't let the men perish. Without them, there wouldn't be anyone to build his route home. Once again, the tyrant had his freedom dangled in front of him as a threat. Another ounce of disrespect. Another reason to kill.
But in the end, he sighed. As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn't. He needed them.

He rolled his eyes, taking a step forward. "Fine." He growls. "But hear this. If that man annoys me, I will not hesitate to blast him into oblivion."

Setting the robes down on the bench next to him, Frieza sighed and glanced back at the other man. "And you're quite certain that the smaller cybernetics I requested aren't fit for field testing yet?" He asks, hopeful that perhaps Ford was just lying to him, that the problem was only some minor glitches.

But alas, the old man shook his head. "Nope, its just like I said last week. We are entering the final stages, but there's still a few technical limitations I need to get through. These cybernetics will be completely brand new. I haven't had to build wholly new ones in... Years." Ford explains, and Frieza sighs. "But I have had the chance to do plenty of upgrades. You'll be the cream of the crop, all things considered... I'm still working out how to incorporate the growing feature you requested, but-"

"Yes, yes I get it." Taking a seat on the bench, Frieza takes a long drink from his waterskin, desperately thirsty under all this heat, before holding his arms and legs out. "Just get these off already..." His eyes narrow as the man approaches, and Frieza quickly adds- "Actually, are you sure they will still be able to connect to my body in my Reduced Form?"

"In theory, yes. I've never seen this supposed transformation, but by all accounts, the same basic biology should apply, albeit on a smaller scale." Ford replies as he set to work, carefully removing Frieza's left arm, followed by his right. Ford, unlike Bendez, didn't look too different than he had been before. He was always a scrawny- ancient- man, though now his robes clung to him like they were three sizes too large, forcing the older man to pull his sleeves up, exposing sweat-dripped arms that weren't much wider than small data-screen. "Though... I do have to ask." He stops to look up at the other man. "Why exactly are you doing this transformation... Now of all times? Why not before? If it does as you say it does and heals your wounds and saves energy then..."

Frieza takes a moment to choose his words carefully as the scientist detaches his right arm and moves into a kneeling position, starting work on his legs. "If transforming back was all it took to regain my limbs believe me I would have reverted back ages ago. No, unfortunately once my wounds healed I was trapped this way. As for saving energy... Really, I've avoided doing anything too strenuous up until this point. I didn't see the need to up until now." He shrugs, looking down at himself in disgust as he does so. Moving with those cybernetic abominations was one thing, but without them? He looked deplorably helpless, like an Ameliac- only unlike them, Frieza's body was carved apart, not like it had been made that way. "But..." Still cringing, Frieza continues. "But since your glorious leader was so kind to ordain that I go outside to rescue you from your food problems, I suppose I should worry about conservation. After all, I'll be forced to share my water with... Unseemly individuals." He glares at Merce, who was standing across the room with his arms crossed.

The man, who's neck was a bruised purplish shade, glared back. "How kind of you." He snarled.

But before the man can say more, a small face popped out from behind the door frame and brushes against Merce's thigh, causing him to jolt away from the door in surprise before relaxing. Usually, Frieza would have laughed at the man's overreaction to the child, who had now fully stepped into the room, but in this case... He merely let out a groan. "Ugh, why is she here?" Frieza's stump moves up, the phantom of his arm reflexively trying and failing to pinch the bridge of his nose. He cringes harder, turning his face away from them all to hide his embarrassment. It hadn't been the first time phantom pains had cropped up since Frieza attained his cybernetics, though in those cases, Frieza was actually able to somewhat satisfy his mind. Without the limbs attached, the feeling of missing something had increased exponentially... And Frieza would be lying if he said he hadn't gotten used to the cybernetics replacing his limbs.

"I wanna seee!" The little girl squeaked, eagerly coming to a stop in front of the pair of men. Two golden eyes reflected the gentle orange glow of the room, set underneath a shock of similarly colored curls- a fact that Frieza loathed, yet a trait the girl shared with her mother- as Yota looked up at Frieza. "No one else can transform! You said you'd show me!" The girl adds, crossing her arms. Unlike the adults, Yota wasn't wearing a cloak, a wise decision given the intense heat... But one that allowed Frieza to get a better look at her arms and legs, both of which were almost stick thin. The girl, and all of the children, were eating more than the adults by a mile but even so, they were verging on the anemic as well. His eyes dart away from her small arms, turning up to her golden eyes as the Arcosian lets his own eyes harden into a glare.

"I most certainly did not!" Frieza retorts. "I said that I would be transforming today! Not that you could come gawk at me!" Eyes snapping to the door, Frieza then adds. "And if there's anyone else out there, I'll kill them before I leave. I'm not a circus performance!"

"I'm not gonna gawk!" The young girl bounces up and down while throwing her hands towards the ground and tilting her face up at him, pouting. Her bright eyes shone preciously as she clasped her fingers together at her hips. "Come on pleaseeeee?"

Unable to help the smile that forms on his face, the Emperor tilts his head to one side as well, letting out a laugh as he speaks. "You're adorable!"

"For thinking that would work on me!" Tone switching to sinister, the Arcosian glares at the girl, leaning in with every syllable until they're eye to eye with one another, his own eyes widening dangerously as his face contorts into a snarl. "I thought you were smarter than that."

The girl's eyebrows push together and her lips purse, cheekbones sticking out as she attempts to match the Arcosian's glare. Frieza didn't budge. This girl was unlike most children her age. For months, she had slowly but surely gotten used to Frieza's mannerisms. His threats slowly grew less and less effective at driving her off, even physical efforts to remove her had failed to keep her at bay for long. In one instance, he'd physically tossed her away from him after her questions became incessant to the point of irritation, and the girl was back the next day. In another, he'd expected the girl to run off after he'd threatened to blast her, and had even shot a hole into the cave wall to make his point, but the girl was either foolishly brave or bravely foolish, she'd stood her ground then, and she stood her ground now. Even the other adults were not so bold, cowering away in fear for their life at the mere mention of his wrath... But not her. She was different.

And so, he smiled.

Unlike all the others, Yota didn't stand her ground out of some misplaced belief that she was superior to him, or that she was in some way deserving of his respect. No, the girl held a reverence for the Emperor. As much as he found it loathsome that his sole companion was a mere child, the girl's near-obsession with the wider universe had given her a healthy respect for the conqueror. No, she stood her ground because she had to. If she wanted to get anything from him, she had to be willing to stand up for herself. It took a brave soul to stand against Frieza, especially one so young. She would have made a terrible soldier, but a wonderful sycophant. He liked her in that way, not to mention that her questions kept him sane, as much as he hated being regulated to a babysitter for Hoda.

Pulling away, Frieza felt his face relax, settling on bemused. "Fine, fine. I suppose its only fitting to have you here as well. Someone should spread the world of my terrifying ability to transform after all."

Her fist pounding the air, Yota let out a small "Yes!" as the Emperor shut his eyes. Taking a breath, Frieza began to focus. An aura erupted around him, but not one of energy leakage. No, this was different than powering up- it was a feeling unfamiliar to the Emperor. He'd only ever really had to do this every now and then- and even then, only when he needed to transform back from his Second Reduction Form into his First. He hadn't gone from his True Form to his Final Reduction Form in decades.

Frieza wasn't quite used to the feeling of his power level lowering.

His aura began as a faint purple shimmer, but quickly, that shimmer strengthened into an aura that hardened into an orb of purple energy- smooth, round, and shiny, like a marble of light. While it shone brightly for everyone else, for Frieza it was more like being back in the womb. Closed off from the outside world, kept in a safe, pitch black, shell where he felt like nothing could harm him. It wouldn't last long though, his cocoon began to shrink, tighter and tighter as the energy began to flow back into the Arcosian, causing his energy to plummet.

Then, his whole body began to morph. First, his torso changed, tightening back into the shape and colors of his First Reduction Form, then growing smaller and smaller, forcing his form to compact. Broad shoulders pulled inwards, muscles began to compress, and bio-armor formed in place of soft flesh. Then, Frieza let out a pained grunt as two black horns shot out of his skull. Though neither of them interfered with his cybernetics directly, the pain that the black barbs created as they punched through his head's bio-gem was splitting, like Cooler had blasted him all over again, and this time he'd struck his brain directly. He disliked that part the most, but it usually didn't hurt this much. Whatever damage had been done to his cranium when Cooler shot him must have been affected by his transformation. No matter, it would be worth it soon enough. Less energy spent in the desert was always better.

The light faded, and soon enough the aura was gone too, revealing the much smaller Arcosian, now in his Fully Sealed Form. Frieza floated down and took a "seat" on the bench, sighing sadly as he did. Some small part of him had hoped that he was wrong. That all it would take to return to his original form would be to transform back. But even now... His arms were gone, his lower half missing, and despite that... He ached where his arm should have been, desperate for the touch. He looked up at the others and noticed that they were all staring at him. Yota had wide, excited eyes that sparkled with admiration, but they faded as she noticed his sad look, prompting the Arcosian to look away. If she had seen it, then the others surely had as well. "Ford." He didn't look at the man, but the elderly doctor nodded and stepped towards him.

Yet as Ford got to work, Frieza felt something on his shoulder. Looking over, he noticed the small hand of Yota, who looked up at him with soft eyes as she gave him a pat on the arm. These people, they hardly understood the love for organic parts and yet even their children knew the pitiful state that Frieza was in. His eyes turned sour, and he shrugged off her hand.

And despite this, the girl stayed there with him the entire time as Ford worked, offering the Emperor her pity...
And her comfort.