Gine stood at the edge of the rocky outcrop, her eyes fixed on the location the man had described. Below her lay a small, hidden valley surrounded by high cliffs, its entrance obscured by large boulders and thick patches of desert shrubs. The twin suns of Tatooine were dipping low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the sands, and the air had begun to cool with the approach of night.

In the center of the clearing below, a ship was parked—a rugged-looking freighter with mismatched panels and dents across its hull, clearly patched together after countless encounters with the dangers of space. The ship's landing lights glowed a dull blue, illuminating the figures moving around it. Their shapes were varied and distinct. Gine's sharp eyes could make out at least five beings, their features unfamiliar and strange, but she recognized the signs of people accustomed to rough work. Her heart raced as she took in the scene below, her fingers tightening around the communicator in her pocket.

This was it—the meeting place. She'd taken the chance, activated the communicator, and followed the instructions to come here alone. Now, it was time to see if this "job" was truly the opportunity she had hoped for.

With a deep breath, Gine stepped forward, descending the narrow path that led down into the valley. The ground was uneven, but her Saiyan agility made quick work of the rocks and loose dirt, her movements swift and sure. As she approached the ship, the figures gathered around it turned to look at her, their eyes filled with curiosity and wariness. She felt their gaze on her, judging and assessing, but she kept her expression calm and focused.

The man she recognized from the marketplace was standing by the ship's loading ramp, his face lighting up with a grin when he saw her. He raised a hand in greeting, his voice cheerful as he called out. "Well, well! Look who decided to show up! I knew you wouldn't be able to resist a good opportunity."

Gine stopped a few paces away, her stance relaxed but ready for anything. "I'm here," she said simply, her tone cautious but firm. "You said there was a job, and I'm listening."

The man chuckled, clearly pleased by her directness. "Good, good," he said, stepping forward and extending a hand. "I never did introduce myself properly, did I? The name's Tarrin. I'm the one running this little operation, and I'm glad you decided to take me up on my offer."

Gine hesitated momentarily before shaking his hand, her grip firm but not aggressive. Tarrin's handshake was confident, but she could feel the underlying tension in his movements—a wariness that told her he wasn't quite sure what to make of her yet.

Tarrin gestured to the group behind him, a motley assortment of beings that had gathered near the ship. "Let me introduce you to the rest of the crew," he grinned. "I figured you might want to know who you'll be working with, assuming you decide to take the job."

Gine nodded, her eyes scanning the group. There was a tall, slender Twi'lek woman with deep blue skin, dressed in a sleek combat suit and armed with a pair of blasters strapped to her thighs. Next to her stood a heavily armored Trandoshan—a hulking reptilian figure with thick scales and sharp claws, his yellow eyes cold and predatory. A wiry Rodian with green, pebbled skin was crouched near the ship's landing gear, tinkering with a toolkit, while a gruff-looking Weequay leaned against the hull, his scarred face twisted into a permanent scowl.

Tarrin pointed to each one in turn. "That's Lura," he said, nodding to the Twi'lek woman. "She's our sharpshooter—best with a blaster you'll find in this part of the galaxy. And that big guy over there is Hossk," he said, indicating the Trandoshan. "Our muscle. Good in a fight, if a bit temperamental."

Hossk's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of his name, but he said nothing, his gaze fixed intently on Gine.

"Zako," Tarrin continued, gesturing to the Rodian with the toolkit. "Our mechanic. He keeps this rust bucket flying and handles the technical stuff. And last, we've got Draze," he said, nodding to the Weequay. "He's our pilot. Knows how to get us in and out of tight spots."

The crew members each gave a brief nod of acknowledgment, though their expressions ranged from indifferent to skeptical. It was clear that Gine was an unknown element to them, and they weren't sure what to make of her yet.

"And you are?" Lura asked, her voice smooth but cautious as she looked Gine up and down, her gaze lingering on Gine's athletic build and confident stance.

Tarrin turned back to Gine with a curious smile. "That's right," he said. "I didn't catch your name the other day. Mind introducing yourself to the team?"

Gine hesitated for only a moment before speaking. "My name's Gine," she said clearly, her voice steady. "I'm here because you said you needed someone strong. I'm ready to prove myself if that's what it takes."

At her words, Hossk let out a low, rumbling laugh—a harsh, mocking sound that made Gine's eyes narrow. The Trandoshan pushed off from where he had been standing and lumbered toward her, his heavy footsteps making the ground tremble slightly. He towered over her, his broad, armored frame blocking out the light behind him. He looked down at her with a sneer, his voice a deep, guttural growl.

"Her?" Hossk said, glancing back at Tarrin with a look of disbelief. "You said she was going to be the muscle? This little thing?" He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "She doesn't look like much. Maybe you brought her on for… other reasons, huh?" His eyes glinted with a predatory light, and his words dripped with innuendo.

Gine's expression remained calm, but her eyes hardened. She didn't like the way Hossk was looking at her, the way his mocking words belittled her without knowing anything about what she was capable of. He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder in what he probably thought was a friendly gesture, but it was anything but.

Without a word, Gine's hand shot up and grabbed Hossk's wrist in a vice-like grip. The Trandoshan's eyes widened in shock as he felt the strength in her slender fingers—far more strength than he had expected. Gine's face remained calm as she tightened her hold, her eyes locking onto his with a steely intensity.

"Take your hand off me," Gine said softly, her voice cold and deadly. The pressure she applied was enough to force Hossk down to one knee, and she felt his muscles strain against her grip. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break free.

Hossk's face twisted with surprise and pain, his arrogance vanishing instantly. He grunted, his free hand clawing at the air, but he quickly realized that she wasn't bluffing. With a low growl, he relented. "Alright," he snarled, his voice strained. "Alright, let go!"

Gine released him without a word, stepping back as Hossk stumbled, rubbing his wrist with disbelief and rage. He glared at her, but there was no longer any mockery in his eyes—only grudging respect and a flicker of fear.

Tarrin laughed, his tone genuine and amused. "I warned you not to judge her by appearances," he said, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. I told you she was stronger than she looked, didn't I?"

Lura's eyebrows rose slightly, and she gave Gine a slow, appraising nod, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Even Zako looked up from his work, his eyes widening slightly at the display. Draze, the Weequay pilot, just chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as if he had seen this kind of confrontation a dozen times before.

Hossk muttered something under his breath, his pride clearly wounded, but he said nothing more, stepping back to his original position without further complaint.

Gine met Tarrin's gaze, her own eyes calm and steady. "Are we done with the introductions?" she asked coolly, folding her arms over her chest.

Tarrin's grin widened, and he nodded enthusiastically. "We are," he said, clearly pleased. "Welcome to the team, Gine. I think you'll fit in just fine." He turned to the others, his tone more serious. "We've got a job to do, and I expect everyone to give it their best. Gine's here to help, and if you're smart, you'll respect what she brings to the table."

The crew muttered their agreement, though Gine could tell that they were still sizing her up, still uncertain of how to handle her presence. But she didn't care. She wasn't here to make friends—she was here to get the job done and to earn enough credits to make a better life for her sons.

Tarrin gestured to the ship behind him, his expression turning businesslike. "We've got a lot to discuss," he said, his voice taking on a sharper edge. "But for now, why don't you come aboard? We'll go over the details inside. Welcome to the team, Gine."

Gine nodded, feeling anticipation as she followed Tarrin up the ramp and into the freighter's dimly lit interior. She didn't know exactly what she had signed up for, but she was ready to find out.

The freighter's interior was dimly lit, with exposed wires snaking along the walls and the soft hum of the ship's engines filling the air. The smell of old machinery, oil, and a hint of stale air hung in the narrow corridors, and Gine's footsteps echoed slightly on the metal floor as she followed Tarrin and the others into a central meeting room. The space was cramped but functional, with a circular metal table bolted to the floor and a worn holographic projector at its center.

Tarrin gestured for everyone to sit, sliding into a chair with the practiced ease of someone used to live aboard a ship. Gine stood momentarily, her eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger or hidden threats, but the rest of the crew was already settling in. Hossk stood off to the side, his arms crossed and his gaze narrowed, clearly still nursing his bruised pride. Lura leaned back in her chair, casually checking the blasters at her hips, while Zako and Draze took seats on either side of the table.

"Alright, let's get down to business," Tarrin said, his tone brisk as he activated the holoprojector. A flickering blue image of a planet appeared above the table, the swirling clouds and rugged terrain illuminated by the soft glow of the projector. "I told you this was a retrieval mission, and that's mostly true," he said with a small, almost sheepish smile. "But the details are a bit more... complicated."

Gine's eyes narrowed as she moved to sit, crossing her arms over her chest. "Complicated how?" she asked, her voice calm but suspicious. "You said we'd be retrieving something. What's the real story here?"

Tarrin chuckled, clearly expecting her skepticism. He leaned forward, pointing at the projected planet. "This," he said, "is Vrykor IV. It's a remote planet in the Outer Rim, mostly uncharted, and it's not exactly a tourist destination. The reason for that? The Crimson Claw Gang controls the entire system, and they don't take kindly to visitors."

"The Crimson Claw Gang?" Lura repeated, her eyes narrowing. "I've heard of them. They're not just some small-time operation—they're dangerous. Pirates, smugglers, slavers, and worse. You're telling us we will hit one of their outposts?"

Tarrin nodded, his expression serious now. "Exactly. They're sitting on something valuable—something that our buyer is willing to pay a lot of credits for. And we're the ones who are going to take it."

Gine leaned forward slightly, her interest piqued despite her caution. "What is it we're after?" she asked. "And why is it worth the risk?"

Tarrin tapped a few buttons on the control panel, and the planet's image zoomed in, revealing a massive, heavily fortified compound built into the rocky terrain. High walls, multiple watchtowers, and various defense systems were visible, and Gine could tell at a glance that it was a fortress.

"Our target," Tarrin said excitedly, "is inside this compound—a vault containing a rare crystalline artifact known as the Heart of Xylox. It's an ancient relic, rumored to have special properties that make it incredibly valuable to the right people."

"What kind of properties?" Zako asked, his eyes flicking up from the hologram to meet Tarrin's gaze.

Tarrin shrugged, his expression unreadable. "The buyer didn't specify, and frankly, I don't care. All I know is that they're willing to pay a fortune for it, and it's currently sitting in the Crimson Claw's vault under heavy guard."

Hossk grunted, his eyes still narrowed with skepticism. "So, we break into a fortified compound, steal an artifact, and get out alive, all without getting shot to pieces by a gang that makes a living off of killing people who try to steal from them. Sounds easy," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Tarrin's smile widened a glint of excitement in his eyes. "It's not going to be easy," he admitted. "But that's why I've assembled this team. We've all got our roles, and if we play our cards right, we'll be in and out before they know what hit them."

He glanced over at Gine, his gaze assessing. "And that's where you come in, Gine."

She raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed. "What do you mean?"

"You're going to be the distraction," Tarrin said with a grin, clearly enjoying himself. "While the rest of us move into position and infiltrate the vault, you'll draw their attention away. With your strength and speed, you're the perfect candidate to keep them busy while we do the job."

Gine's eyes narrowed, and she felt a surge of irritation. "You want me to be bait?" she asked, her voice cold. "To put myself in the line of fire while the rest of you sneak around in the shadows?"

Tarrin held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Not bait," he said quickly. "Distraction. There's a difference. You won't be alone, and you won't be outgunned. You're the best person for the job because you can handle yourself in a fight. And if things go south, you're strong enough to leave there alone. We wouldn't stand a chance if we tried infiltrating that compound without someone drawing their attention."

Lura nodded in agreement, her eyes on Gine. "He's right. We need someone to make enough noise to draw their forces away from the vault entrance. If you can get them riled up, get them to focus on you, we'll have a clear path inside."

Gine considered their words, her gaze shifting to the hologram of the fortress. She could see the logic in their plan, and while she didn't like the idea of being the "distraction," she knew she was more than capable of handling whatever the Crimson Claw could throw at her. A part of her was eager for the challenge—a chance to prove herself and see how far she could push her Saiyan abilities in a real fight.

"Fine," she said, her voice firm. "I'll do it. But if things go wrong, I won't stick around just to cover for you. If I need to get out, I'm getting out."

Tarrin's smile widened, and he nodded approvingly. "That's the spirit," he said. "And don't worry—we'll have your back. This is a team effort, after all."

"What's the plan after we get the artifact?" Draze asked, his tone businesslike as he leaned forward, his arms resting on the table. "Where's the buyer, and how do we make the handoff?"

Tarrin tapped the controls again, and the image shifted to another planet—a lush, green world covered in dense forests and rolling hills. "Once we have the Heart of Xylox, we'll make our way to Arboris Prime," he said. "That's where our buyer is waiting. It's a neutral planet outside of Imperial control, and there are plenty of places to hide if things go sideways. We'll deliver the artifact, get our payment, and then we're done."

Zako's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression thoughtful. "And what do we know about the buyer?" he asked. "Are they trustworthy?"

Tarrin's expression darkened slightly, and he hesitated before answering. "The buyer is... well-connected," he said carefully. "And they have a reputation for paying well. As long as we deliver the artifact in good condition, I don't expect any problems."

"Well-connected," Hossk muttered, a note of skepticism in his voice. "Sounds like you're not telling us everything, Tarrin."

Tarrin's smile was tight, but he didn't flinch. "I'm telling you what you need to know," he said evenly. "The job is dangerous, but the payoff is worth it. We all stand to make enough credits to get off this rock for good and set ourselves up somewhere nice. That's what matters, right?"

The crew exchanged glances, and Gine felt the weight of their expectations settle over her like a heavy cloak. She could sense the tension in the air, the unspoken doubts and questions, but she had decided. This was the opportunity she had been searching for—the chance to earn enough credits to build a new life for her sons, far away from the dangers of Tatooine.

"Alright," Gine said, her voice strong and clear. "I'm in. Tell me exactly what you need me to do."

Tarrin's smile widened, and he leaned forward, his eyes glinting excitedly. "Good," he said, his voice low and eager. "Here's the plan..."

As he laid out the details—the points of entry, the security systems, the timing—Gine listened closely, absorbing every word. She could feel the anticipation building, the thrill of a challenge that lay just beyond the horizon.

The heat of the twin suns bore down on Mos Eisley as Ben moved steadily through the winding, dusty streets, Raditz walking by his side with a spring in his step. It had been a struggle to keep the boy from tagging along. His curiosity had been insatiable ever since his mother, Gine, had gone off on her own. Ben had reluctantly agreed to bring Raditz back to the bustling spaceport city, hoping to distract him for a time and maybe pick up some supplies. But he couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at the edges of his mind, a sense that something dark was lurking just out of sight.

Raditz, on the other hand, was practically buzzing with excitement. His tail swayed back and forth behind him, a telltale sign of his curiosity and barely contained energy. Kakarot, who was slung comfortably on Ben's back in a secure wrap, was giggling softly, babbling to himself as they walked. Ben was cautious, though. His senses were sharp, alert to any danger, and he kept his hood pulled low over his face to avoid any unnecessary attention.

"Ben, when do you think Mom will be back?" Raditz asked suddenly, his voice filled with impatience. He had asked the question three times already, but he couldn't help himself.

"Soon, I imagine," Ben said softly, his voice calm but distant as he scanned the crowd. "She'll be back when she's ready. We just have to be patient."

Raditz pouted, kicking at the dusty ground. "I'm not worried about her," he said, crossing his arms. "Mom's strong. She can handle anything. I just want to see what's out there. There's so much to explore!"

Ben smiled slightly beneath his hood, but his mind remained preoccupied. There was something wrong—something he couldn't quite put his finger on. The Force felt… distorted here, like a faint pulse of warning that he couldn't fully interpret. He had felt it ever since they entered the city, and now it seemed to grow stronger. He took a deep breath, centering himself, and kept moving forward.

The streets were crowded with all manner of beings—traders hawking their wares, droids shuffling to and fro, and travelers from across the galaxy passing through the dusty alleyways. But as they turned down a narrow side street, away from the main market, the noise faded slightly. The alley was empty and shadowed, a rare quiet space in the bustling city. Ben's sense of unease spiked, and he came to an abrupt stop, his hand instinctively reaching out to halt Raditz.

"Stay close," Ben said quietly, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Raditz opened his mouth to protest, but Ben's stern expression silenced him. They had only taken a few steps into the alley when a low, almost mocking voice echoed from the shadows ahead.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" The voice was cold and taunting, and Ben's blood ran cold. It was the Seventh Sister.

Ben's heart pounded in his chest, and he kept his face hidden beneath the hood. He had to stay calm and keep his presence in the Force as quiet as possible. Revealing his true identity here would be a death sentence. He held his breath as another figure emerged from the shadows—a tall, broad man with a dark, menacing expression. The Fifth Brother. The two Inquisitors moved forward slowly, their eyes locked onto Raditz, who looked up at them with a mix of confusion and defiance.

"What's going on?" Raditz asked, his voice steady despite the tension. He glanced up at Ben, who remained frozen, weighing his options. He couldn't sense the Inquisitors' intentions through the Force, but he knew they were dangerous.

The Seventh Sister's gaze dropped to Raditz's tail, which was swishing back and forth in agitation. Her eyes narrowed with recognition, and she smiled—a cold, calculating smile that sent a chill down Ben's spine.

"Look at that," she said, her voice a soft, dangerous purr. "A tail. Just like the one mentioned in the report."

The Fifth Brother stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied Raditz and Ben. "The woman we're hunting," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "She had a tail, too. This boy must be connected to her."

Ben's heart sank. They had made the connection—Raditz's tail had given them away. He tightened his grip on Kakarot's wrap, his mind racing. He couldn't reveal himself and couldn't risk exposing his identity. But he also couldn't let them take Raditz.

Suddenly, stormtroopers appeared at the mouth of the alley, their blasters raised and aimed at the small group. They were surrounded.

Raditz's eyes widened, but instead of showing fear, his expression hardened into a fierce glare. He stepped forward, his small fists clenched at his sides. "You think you can scare me?" he said boldly, his voice defiant. "I'm not afraid of you! I can take you all on!"

"Raditz, no!" Ben hissed, but it was too late.

Raditz launched himself forward with blinding speed, faster than Ben had anticipated. The boy's movement was fluid and precise, his punches landing with a force that belied his small stature. He moved like a blur, his tail whipping behind him as he knocked the first stormtrooper's blaster aside and sent him crashing into the wall with a single blow. The other stormtroopers fired their blasters, but Raditz ducked and weaved between the shots, his agility astonishing for someone so young.

The Seventh Sister's eyes widened in shock, her face contorting with anger as she watched the boy deflect a blaster bolt with his bare hand. The Fifth Brother took a step back, clearly stunned by the display of raw, physical power.

"Impossible," the Seventh Sister muttered, her voice incredulous. "He's not using the Force… but he's still that strong?"

Ben moved quickly, keeping his movements subtle as he deflected a stray blaster shot with a metal pipe he picked up from the ground, his actions swift and controlled. He couldn't use his lightsaber—he couldn't risk revealing himself as a Jedi—so he relied on his instincts and training, guiding Raditz without drawing attention to himself. But Raditz needed no help. He was a whirlwind, taking down troopers with ease, his strength and speed almost superhuman.

The chaos escalated as Raditz fought with a ferocity that left even the Inquisitors taken aback. But just as it seemed the boy had the upper hand, a sharp, high-pitched cry pierced the air.

Ben's blood turned to ice. He spun around, his eyes widening in horror as he saw the Fifth Brother holding Kakarot in his massive, armored hand. The baby was squirming, his tiny fists flailing, his face red with distress.

"Enough," the Fifth Brother growled, his eyes locking onto Raditz, who froze in mid-strike, his expression turning to one of shock and fear. The Inquisitor's grip tightened around Kakarot, and the baby let out another wail, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks.

"Stop!" Ben said sharply, his voice low and dangerous. He stepped forward, keeping his hood pulled low to hide his face. "Let the child go. He has nothing to do with this."

"Oh, I think he does," the Seventh Sister said with a cruel smile, her lightsaber still inactive but ready at her side. "You see, we've been searching for a woman—a woman with a tail, just like this boy. And it seems that these two are our best lead to finding her."

Raditz's face twisted with fury, and he stepped forward, his fists clenched. "Let my brother go!" he shouted, his voice desperate. "I'll make you pay if you hurt him!"

The Fifth Brother's smile was slow and cruel. "No," he said calmly, holding Kakarot a little higher. "I think we'll keep him. He'll be useful. A perfect little piece of bait to draw out our target."

Ben's mind raced, every instinct screaming at him to act, to fight, to save the child. But he couldn't—he was outnumbered, and if he revealed his powers, they would know he was a Jedi. He stepped back, his heart pounding in his chest as the stormtroopers moved in to form a barrier between him, Raditz, and the Inquisitors.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," the Seventh Sister said, her voice mocking as she activated her double-bladed lightsaber with a menacing hiss. "We don't want to hurt you—yet. But if you try to stop us, the child will pay the price."

Raditz's eyes were wide with rage and fear, but Ben reached out, grabbing his shoulder firmly and pulling him back. "Raditz," he said quietly, his voice firm but gentle. "We can't do anything right now. We have to wait for the right moment."

Raditz's eyes blazed with frustration, but he nodded slowly, his hands trembling at his sides. Ben felt the moment's weight press down on him like a suffocating shroud. They had no choice—they had to let them take Kakarot. It was the only way to keep them all alive, for now.

The Fifth Brother's gaze flicked between Raditz and Ben, his smile widening as he backed away, Kakarot still crying in his grip. "If the woman wants this child back," he said coldly, "she'll come to us. And when she does, we'll be ready."

With that, the Inquisitors turned and disappeared into the shadows, Kakarot's cries fading into the distance. The stormtroopers followed in a tight formation, leaving the alley eerily silent and empty in their wake.

Raditz stood frozen, his entire body shaking with rage and helplessness, his eyes locked on the spot where his brother had been taken. Ben knelt beside him, his hand resting on the boy's shoulder, his own heart heavy with guilt and fury.

"We'll get him back," Ben said quietly, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his chest. "I promise you, Raditz. We'll get him back."

Raditz's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and he looked up at Ben with a fierce determination that belied his young age. "We have to," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "We can't let them hurt him. We have to get him back."

Ben nodded, his jaw set with resolve. He had failed to protect Kakarot, but he wouldn't fail again. No matter what it took, no matter what dangers lay ahead, they would get Kakarot back.

And he knew, with a certainty that burned in his very soul, that this was only the beginning. The Inquisitors had made a grave mistake—one that would cost them dearly.

The sterile scent of disinfectant filled Bardock's nose as he slowly blinked his eyes open, his vision blurry and unfocused. The first thing he noticed was the unfamiliar white ceiling above him, illuminated by soft, pale lights. He lay in a tank filled with a strange, viscous liquid, his body submerged up to his neck. He could feel the warm fluid swirling around him, soothing the pain in his muscles and injuries. He tried to move, but a sharp pain shot through his side, and he let out a low groan, his breath catching in his throat.

Confusion clouded his mind as he looked down through the tank's slightly tinted glass, seeing the mask covering his face to help him breathe. His body was littered with bruises and cuts, now bandaged and patched up. He could feel his armor had been removed, replaced by a simple, loose garment clinging to his body. His tail, though tightly wrapped around his waist, was still intact. His instincts screamed danger, but he forced himself to stay calm, taking in his surroundings.

The room he was in was sterile and clean but unfamiliar. It looked like some kind of medical chamber, but nothing like the ones on Planet Vegeta or Frieza's ships. There were no scouters—only the simple, rounded tank he was submerged in and medical equipment arranged neatly on counters and trays. A gentle hum of machinery filled the air, and Bardock could see a few blinking lights on devices he didn't recognize.

He shifted again, wincing at the dull throb of pain in his side, and that's when he saw her—a small figure slumped over a chair near the tank, her head resting on the edge of the glass. She was a young girl, no older than seven or eight, with dark hair tied back neatly. Her face was peaceful, eyes closed, and Bardock's breath caught in his throat as he noticed how she seemed to be watching over him, even in her sleep. For a split second, she reminded him of someone—someone he had lost—but the thought faded as confusion settled back in.

His mind raced as he tried to piece together what had happened. The last thing he remembered was… chaos—the urgency of stealing a pod for Gine, Raditz, and Kakarot—the cold realization of Frieza's betrayal. He remembered the overwhelming surge of power, his final defiant stand against the tyrant as Frieza's death ball bore down on him, engulfing Planet Vegeta in a blinding light.

He should be dead. He was sure he had died.

Before he could make sense of it, the door at the far end of the room slid open with a gentle hiss. Bardock's instincts flared, and he struggled to sit up, ignoring the pain that shot through his ribs. A man entered the room, his steps quiet but confident. He was dressed in fine robes, his expression calm and dignified, with an air of authority that immediately put Bardock on edge. The man had dark hair, slightly graying at the temples, and a warm yet cautious look in his eyes.

"I'm glad to see you're awake," the man said, his voice calm but carrying a weight of curiosity. His eyes flickered briefly to the sleeping girl at Bardock's side before returning to Bardock. "We weren't sure if you were going to make it."

Bardock's eyes narrowed his senses on high alert. He didn't recognize the man, and everything about this situation felt wrong. He forced himself to speak, his voice rough and hoarse, muffled slightly by the breathing mask. "Who are you?" he demanded, his tone sharper than he intended. "Where am I? And what is this place?"

The man raised a hand in a gesture of peace, his expression unflinching. "My name is Bail Organa," he said evenly. "You're on the planet Alderaan, in the Royal Palace's medical wing. You were found unconscious and wounded in the palace gardens a few days ago. My daughter—" he glanced again at the girl, his gaze softening, "—Leia, found you and alerted us."

Bardock's eyes flicked down to the sleeping child, confusion warring with the instinct to get up and fight. His memories were still fragmented, but he remembered nothing after facing Frieza's attack. How could he have ended up here, in some unknown place, with no sign of Frieza's forces or his own people?

"Alderaan?" he repeated, the name foreign on his tongue. He had never heard of such a place. His mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. "How did I get here? The last thing I remember is…"

He trailed off, the words dying in his throat. He couldn't explain it—he didn't know how he had survived, let alone ended up in this strange place with these unfamiliar people.

Bail Organa's expression was sympathetic but cautious. He moved closer, standing at the foot of the tank, his eyes never leaving Bardock's. "I was hoping you could tell us that," he said gently. "You were badly injured when Leia found you. No one saw you arrive, and our security systems didn't register any ships landing in that area. It's as if you simply… appeared in our garden."

Bardock clenched his fists, his frustration mounting. Nothing made sense. He had been ready to die—had died fighting Frieza—and now he was here, being questioned by some nobleman in a place he didn't recognize. He had more questions than answers, but the pain in his body and the confusion in his mind left him feeling vulnerable, something he wasn't used to.

"Look," Bardock said, his voice strained. "I don't know what happened. One moment, I was… somewhere else, fighting. And the next, I'm here." He looked down at his bandaged body, his frown deepening. "You're saying your daughter found me? In your garden?"

Bail nodded, his gaze shifting to Leia's sleeping form. "Yes. She's quite stubborn when she wants to be. Insisted on staying by your side until you woke up."

Bardock's eyes softened slightly as he looked at the girl, though he quickly masked the emotion. She looked so innocent, so unlike the harsh, battle-hardened faces he was used to. It reminded him of Kakarot, of Raditz when he was younger—memories that felt painfully distant now. He shifted his gaze back to Bail, his expression hardening.

"You're saying you don't know how I got here?" Bardock asked, his voice skeptical. "No ship, no pods, nothing?"

"Nothing," Bail confirmed. "I wish I had more answers, but all I know is that you were gravely injured when we found you. We did our best to treat your wounds, but I can tell that your… physiology is different. The injuries you survived would have killed a normal human."

"That's because I'm not human," Bardock said bluntly, his eyes narrowing. He still didn't trust this man, and he needed to find out more before revealing anything important.

"I had assumed as much," Bail said, his tone calm and composed. "You're not from around here, are you?"

Bardock hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "No. I'm not," he said slowly, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how much to tell this stranger. "I come from… far away. And I don't know how I ended up in this place. But what I do know is that I have to get back. My family… my people—"

He stopped, his chest tightening as the image of Planet Vegeta's destruction flashed in his mind. He could see it so clearly—the overwhelming power of Frieza's blast, the blinding light, the fiery explosion that had wiped out everything he had known. The realization hit him with the force of a sledgehammer, and his breath caught in his throat.

"My people," he said again, his voice barely a whisper. "They're… gone."

Bail's expression softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of empathy and sorrow. He could tell that Bardock was speaking of something deeply personal, something that had shaken him to his core. "I'm sorry," Bail said quietly, his voice sincere. "I don't know what happened to you or where you came from, but it's clear you've been through something terrible."

Bardock's jaw tightened, and he forced himself to look away, unwilling to let his grief show in front of a stranger. He needed answers—needed to understand how he had survived and why he was here. But for now, he was at the mercy of these people, whoever they were. If they had wanted to harm him, they could have done so already.

He looked back at Bail, his eyes hard. "I don't know why I'm here," he said slowly. "But if you helped me, then I'm grateful. I'll repay you, somehow."

"There's no debt to repay," Bail said gently, his tone kind. "We're just glad that you're alive. Leia was worried about you, even though she doesn't know who you are. She has a… compassionate heart."

Bardock's eyes flickered back to the girl, who was still asleep, her small frame rising and falling with each steady breath. He didn't understand why she had stayed by his side—why she had found him at all—but something about her presence felt strangely comforting, even in the midst of his confusion.

"I don't belong here," Bardock said, his voice gruff. "I need to find a way back. My family… my sons… they might have survived, and I need to find them."

Bail's expression grew thoughtful, and he nodded slowly. "We'll do what we can to help," he said calmly. "But for now, you need to rest. Your injuries were severe, and you'll need time to recover fully."

Bardock's instincts screamed at him to get up, fight, or do something, but the pain in his body kept him pinned to the tank. He hated feeling weak and the vulnerability that came with it, but he knew he had no choice. He was stuck here, in this strange place, until he had the strength to leave.

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth, his eyes blazing with determination. "But I'm not staying here forever. As soon as I'm healed, I'm leaving. I don't care what it takes—I have to find them."

Bail gave a small nod, his expression understanding. "I won't try to stop you," he said gently. "But know that you're safe here as long as you need to stay. Rest, recover, and when you're ready, we'll help you however we can."

Bardock said nothing, his eyes drifting back to the window, where the soft glow of Alderaan's night filled the room. He didn't trust Bail and didn't understand why these people had helped him, but for now, he had no choice. He had survived Frieza's blast—somehow—and he needed to find out why. And most of all, he needed to know if Gine, Raditz, and Kakarot had survived as well.

As the night wore on, Bardock lay floating in the tank, staring into the darkness and trying to piece together the fragments of his shattered world.

Well, folks, it seems like things are really heating up! We've got Gine diving headfirst into a dangerous heist, playing the main distraction—though, let's be honest, she's probably tougher than anything they can throw at her. But just when you think it couldn't get crazier, Goku—oops, I mean Kakarot—gets snatched up by the Empire! Looks like when the Empire can't win with brute force, they're not above playing dirty.

And then, just when you thought it was over... surprise! Bardock is ALIVE! Now, you might be scratching your head, wondering how that's even possible. Well… let's just chalk it up to the same mysterious logic that brought him back in that old Bardock special with Lord Chilled! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯