Slowly, throughout the cold, lifeless void of space, a tiny spaceship thrust through the blackness like a dagger. The ship was symmetrical, and had it been in top condition, it would have almost looked frightening. Instead the ring like interior section had several gaping holes, easily noticeable by the clear mist of oxygen billowing out into space. Most of the blue and yellow domes around the outside of the ship were destroyed or cracked, and where fourteen panels that would normally hold pincer-like legs used to land the ship, only nine remained. Of these nine, only six were properly locked inside, with the other three legs hanging out, the panels and computers housing and controlling them long since destroyed. The main observation dome, on what could be called the front of the ship, had huge cracks in it as well. Inside this dome, two beings struggled for life.

Most of the ship’s systems, save for propulsion were either critically damaged, or completely destroyed. The small repairs the two beings had managed to make were serving nothing more then to keep the badly damaged ship going for a few more days. The temperature controls had given up the ghost several days ago, and now rather then simply watch their oxygen supply dwindle, enabling the two to have a somewhat peaceful death in their sleep, they were in danger of freezing to death. They were both skilled fighters, but had been exhausted by their battle weeks ago. With the healing chambers off-line, they had not been able to keep their energy levels up. What little ki they had been able to channel in an effort to warm themselves had long been expended, resorting the two of them to wrapping themselves in any clothing or blankets they could find. They had already moved to the bridge, which fortunately was still the warmest part of the ship. Together, they sat in two chairs side by side, awaiting death.

Suddenly, one of the panels on the bridge lit up, accompanied with a loud alarm. The being on the left chair jumped up with sudden speed, tossing his three blankets aside, which was quite surprising for his weakened state. He was about four feet tall, with an elongated oval shaped head that was more horizontal facing then vertical. Several brown spots along the sides and top of his head accompanied his purple skin. His neck joined more near the front then the back, and two yellow fang-like teeth hung over his lower lip. He was attired in a white fighting jacket, which he wore over a dusty black long sleeved shirt. His fighting jacket was type 2, which meant that it had shoulder guards but it didn’t have thigh guards and instead stopped at the waist. He had long abandoned the short pants that he would originally be wearing in lieu of long, tight black pants. To finish his outfit, he had on white boots with a protective yellow material around the points of his feet.

The other being scowled at his comrade’s enthusiasm, as he had long since decided that they were going to die. He was at least twice as large as his companion, having huge bulky arms and wearing the same fighting jacket, albeit several sizes larger. His skin was pink, and he had a rather lumpy face, with huge purple lips and cold eyes. His head was almost like a rounded lumpy pink triangle, except that it had several spike-like ridges dotted all around, complete with smaller, pointed ears. He looked fat, and some people might have considered him as such, but he was powerful and fairly quick. His huge arms, which were bare, held powerful muscles. His legs were likewise the same, and he was wearing black pants similar to his companion’s, and the same boots. Of course, he didn’t share his companion’s enthusiasm. He considered himself above his companion. His companion was of a lowly race, while one of their Master Freezer’s most trusted lieutenants, the great Dodoria, was of the same race as he. In truth, though their relative power was vastly different, they both had their talents.

He thought back to the event two weeks ago. The ship had been damaged severely, and of the original twenty fighters, only two remained. But they had won. Master Freezer had wanted to send the Ginyu Tokusentai, but he would rather die then let that dancing band of idiots prepare that planet for selling. He had volunteered his squad. And they had won. The inhabitants of the planet had been far more powerful then previously expected and they had lost five of their members in the first two hours of landing on the planet. He grinned coldly. Once the planet’s fighters had realized they couldn’t win, they had blasted away at the ship in a vain effort to stop the invaders. And it had almost succeeded. But not quite. He and his companion had taken particular satisfaction in slaughtering the innocents of that planet. He was interrupted from these evil thoughts as his companion turned back towards him, grinning.

"Sir! I don’t believe it, but we have a chance to survive! I managed to kick the main navigational computer up yesterday, and now it’s paying off! There’s a ternary solar system about two days away, and there’s a planet that can support life in that system, according to this readout! We can land, and even if it takes weeks to fix the ship, we can survive! Isn’t that great?" He said, enthusiastically, the jolt of adrenaline providing the first burst of energy he had felt in days. Still sitting in the chair, a blanket around his shoulders, with his massive arms crossed, he scowled.

"What makes you think we can make it there before we die, Ideo? We’re low on oxygen and it’s getting colder and coler in here. We’re probably not going to make it anyway, and even if we do, who says we can even repair the ship when we get there?" He said, icily.

Ideo’s eyes narrowed as he smiled evilly.

"I thought of that. But we do have enough oxygen to last that long, and now that we know we’ll be on a planet in two days, then we can try and use some of the ship’s remaining energy to warm this place up a bit. According to a scouting mission in this area five hundred years ago, this planet is inhabited. The planet had about ten people, and was in such a bad shape that it was never considered for being conquered. But the point is, we believe these people have, or once did have, space travel. With any luck we’ll be able to "persuade" them to help us. What do you think, Smetllack?" The pink alien grinned.

"Do it. If we survive, then maybe we’ll be able to report back to Master Freezer with news of our victory. At the very least we might get to kill something else before we die." He turned and glanced out at the stars, even while Ideo left to change the ship’s trajectory manually, and begin trying to warm the ship. He sighed. He might have to survive two more days of the freezing cold. He started to pull his blanket tighter around himself, then thought better of it. Reaching down, he picked up Ideo’s blankets and wrapped them around his massive body for added warmth. With luck, the diminutive alien would never notice they were gone. He smiled, and then, for the first time in weeks, he began to laugh.

Tiptoeing silently around the hut, a cloaked figure glanced around twice, then ducked into the doorway when he was sure no one was looking. He glanced around. It was dark in the house, despite the brilliant light outside, and the figure crouched next to the doorway for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He heard a faint breathing sound, which he assumed was his target snoring. The tall Nameksei-jin was sweating a bit, and his eyes were shut tight. He was most definitely asleep. Under his hood, the figure grinned. He snuck around to the back of the bed, until he was standing over the Nameksei-jin’s face. The figure grinned. This was too easy. He reached into his cloak and withdrew his weapon. It was a bit crude, but it would do the job. His cloak parted as he raised his arm high overhead, revealing his green skin and pink Nameksei-jin muscles. Then, chuckling evilly to himself, he raised it one more time with a flourish, savoring his victory. With astonishing speed, another Nameksei-jin arm flew from below and grabbed the figure’s arm by the wrist. The figure gasped in surprise. His weapon went clattering to the floor as Neru’s eyes flashed open. They narrowed, focusing on the other Nameksei-jin, whose hood had fallen off. Neru scowled. He bent his other hand near the bed and picked up the weapon. A brush, dripping with a blue dye that Neru remembered was so difficult to get out of clothing, or even skin, that it would remain there a week. He smiled slightly, smashed the brush with his hand, and released the other Nameksei-jin’s arm. Neru shook his head, and jumped to his feet, as he was not very happy. He whirled and glared at the younger Nameksei-jin, who was about half a foot shorter then he was, with a more oval-shaped head, light green skin, and slightly smaller ears. The Nameksei-jin was wearing what he hoped was a disarming grin.

"Um, gee sorry Neru, I thought this was Muuri’s house… really!" The Nameksei-jin said, in his normal, never serious voice. Neru grumbled.

"Karacol, if you’d put half as much time into training as you did with these stupid practical jokes…" Neru began. Karacol focused on nothing in particular, and started lip-syncing the words he knew would be coming next.

"You’d be just as good at fighting as me, I know, you’ve told me before Neru." Karacol said, finishing. Neru groaned. He didn’t like to think of himself as a person who didn’t like some people, but Karacol just always rubbed him the wrong way. He was always trying to pull pranks on people, and never seemed to want to train when Neru did, being very lazy. At times, the younger Nameksei-jin was so childlike and irresponsible that he just couldn’t believe that by Nameksei-jin standards, Karacol was easily an adult. Neru admitted that he did have fighting potential, and despite his shortcomings, he was arguably the second strongest Nameksei-jin on the planet, but by a wide margin in power. Quite frankly, Neru just didn’t like him because he was never serious, and oftentimes didn’t think before acting. The older Nameksei-jin glanced down at the ground, speaking in low tones.

"Did you ever think that I might instinctively use deadly force when someone sneaks up on me like that? In combat, you can’t afford any mistakes. They might mean your downfall. You’re lucky I was able to sense your ki when you came in, or next time you might be lying there on the ground, twitching with a broken neck. Understand?" Karacol rolled his eyes.

"Yeah yeah, I know I know, so do you wanna train or not?" Karacol said bitterly. Neru almost exploded, but held his rage in.

"Do you have any idea where I was earlier when it was nice and hot out?! While you were relaxing in bed, I was training as hard as possible!" He said angrily. Karacol smiled that stupid, disarming smile again.

"Sorry Neru, but I sprained my leg, and it only now just felt better, so I thought I’d better test it. So do you want to go outside and spar or not?" He said questioningly. Neru muttered something under his breath. Karacol didn’t pick up on all of it, but it sounded something like, "Yeah, I’ll give you a sprained leg you lousy little…" he didn’t hear the rest. He made an over-exaggerated sweeping gesture towards the door. Neru reached over and picked up his long vest from a nearby chair. He tugged it on and glanced at the door.

"After you…" He said, smiling just a bit, letting his rage cool. Karacol grinned.

"Oh no, you’re the strongest Nameksei-jin, after you." Neru glanced up at the ceiling and started walking out the door. Behind him, Karacol chuckled, having pinned a small piece of paper with Nameksei-jin writing on it to Neru’s back. Enscribed on it was, "It’s so hot out I can’t talk. Someone throw a bucket of water on me, please!" He snickered and followed after the older Nameksei-jin.

Neru smiled, nimbly dodging out of the way of another kick by his opponent, Karacol. Dust scattered up all around them, as Neru dodged another flurry of punches. They were sparring in the village, much to the amazement of a few Nameksei-jin watching. The younger Nameksei-jin’s teeth were clenched tight, and he was sweating from his exertions. Neru was sweating slightly, but he had to face the fact that after the practice earlier that day, this just wasn’t a challenge. He was still angry, but unless Karacol did anything else to enrage him, he figured he’d be able to control his emotions. By unspoken agreement, neither was using any ki attacks. Neru grudgingly admitted that of all his areas, the one Karacol was somewhat near Neru in skill was in flinging around energy and things like that, but it took far more then that to be a good fighter. Neru believed that a fighter should learn the fundamentals before the advanced techniques. He blocked another punch.

"Look at all the areas he’s leaving himself open to attack. He’s being far too frenzied in his attack." Neru thought, slightly annoyed. He sighed softly, dodging a high kick. It was time to illustrate that point.

"Karacol, you’re being far too offensive with this attack! The best defense isn’t always a good offense, you’re so undefended at some points!" He yelled. Karacol grinned, launching into another flurry of kicks and punches, which Neru continued parrying.

"You’re just finally giving way to my assault, so you’re trying to keep from finally getting beaten by me! Admit it, Neru!" Karacol said, with a smug tone in his voice. Neru’s eyes narrowed. He hated to do it, but it was time to teach his student another lesson.

"This is going to hurt him a lot more then it hurts me," He thought. Karacol lunged at him with another kick. Neru ducked under it with blinding speed, rolled out of the way of one of Karacol’s punches, and before the other Nameksei-jin could react, firmly planted a fairly weak kick by his standards. It achieved the desired effect, landing on Karacol’s unprotected side, right in the Nameksei-jin equivalent of the solar plexus. Karacol let out one quick scream of pain that died abruptly as he slumped to the ground in a cloud of dust, the wind knocked out of him.

Neru scoffed, walked up and stood over Karacol, who was still trying to breathe normally. He extended a hand to help the other Nameksei-jin up. Somehow, gasping for air, Karacol managed to grin. Neru raised an eye ridge in disbelief.

With a tremendous splash, Neru suddenly felt himself dripping wet. He growled in anger and spun around to face a large Nameksei-jin, wearing no top, who was holding an empty bucket of water and staring at Neru with wide eyes and a dumb, unintelligent grin.

"Hey Neru! Did I save you? Can you talk again?" The brawny Nameksei-jin asked. Neru glared.

"Just what the heck did you do that for?!" Neru demanded. The brawny Nameksei-jin, whose name was Tulapas, scratched his head, staring at Neru quizzically. He wasn’t the brightest Nameksei-jin in the bunch, and was fervently trying to think of a reason why Neru was mad at him.

"Um… Neru… there’s a… sign on your back. It told me to throw water on you because you couldn’t talk… are you okay now?" Neru blinked at Tulapas, and scratched his head. Water dripped off the tips of his antennae. He heard chuckling behind him, and didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Still lying on the ground, Karacol was laughing his head off. Neru reached behind his back and felt around for the note that he knew had to be there. He tore it off with a small shred of his own vest, and squinted at the note. The dye used to imprint the note was running, but Neru was able to make out the words. And more importantly, whose handwriting they were in. He spun around, his eyes practically ablaze with fire. Karacol gulped. Neru cracked his knuckles.

"Real funny, eh? Always playing those tricks on ol’ Neru, are you? Well, I’m sick of it."  He started walking towards Karacol, who gulped. He started scrambling backwards on his hands and feet, until his back came in contact with the wall of a nearby hut. He groaned. Neru advanced, his face set in stone. Karacol got on his knees, begging.

"AHH! Neru, don’t hurt me too much, I didn’t mean too! Please don’t…" Karacol’s voice cut off to a whimper as Neru pulled his right arm back. Vainly waiting for the punch he knew was coming, Karacol shut his eyes tight. Nothing came. A few more seconds. Still nothing. He opened one eye slightly…

…And immediately felt a rush of coldness as Neru threw a bucket of water in his face. Karacol accidentally swallowed some of the water in his mouth and started choking. Neru glared at Karacol in contempt. He threw the bucket down so hard that it landed in the dirt with a thud.

There was an awkward silence, during which Karacol still wasn’t sure if Neru was about to tear him apart. Finally, he let out a sigh of relief as Neru smirked.

"Not so fun, now is it Karacol? Perhaps next time you’ll think before you pull another trick. And Tulapas," He turned and glanced at the brawny Nameksei-jin, who was still trying to comprehend what was going on. Neru grinned wider. "If you see any signs on someone’s back, don’t do what they say, okay?" Neru said. Tulapas smiled dumbly and nodded, although he obviously still had little idea what Neru was talking about. Neru shrugged. He glanced at Karacol one last time.

"I think you’ve had enough training for one day. I’m going to go teach someone who would like to learn something from me." Neru finished, and started walking in the direction of Muuri’s hut. Karacol groaned, as his side still hurt a bit. As Neru walked off into the distance, one final piercing yell echoed across the village.

"HEY NERU! COME BACK! YOU FORGOT YOUR NOTE!" Tulapas yelled to the departing Neru, waving a wet piece of paper in one massive hand. Karacol glanced up at the bright green sky, and slapped himself in the forehead.