Burori awoke, the soft light coaxing him back to consciousness. He groggily shook his head, trying to lose the nagging feelings of dreams lost and minds shattered. He shifted in his pile of rags, looking for his companions. He saw them in the corner, quietly eating their bowls of unappetizing gruel. His stomach rumbled; he could not remember the last time he had eaten anything. His eyes locked on a third bowl near the grate that closed off the cell, and he quickly snatched it up, devouring the lumpy paste with relish. The vileness of the food's taste could not override his desire to eat, and within moments the bowl was emptied. Sheepishly he wiped his mouth, now aware that his cellmates were watching him.

" Good morning," Krinis said with a smile as she set down her bowl. " Father, Burori has changed."

The old man eyed him suspiciously, his gaze still wary of the young warrior's strength. Burori felt an uncomfortable knot in his stomach. He didn't know how to deal with these people now that his hate had fled him. He felt the faint flicker of ki within his chest, but even its warming light could not bring the words into his mouth. He smiled awkwardly at the old Saiya-jin, hoping that somehow this feeling would pass, and once again he would be able to touch that part of him that was lost.

" You are a great warrior," Yanorik wheezed as he wrung his wrinkled hands. "I am honored to be in the same cell as you."

" You're lying," Burori stated glumly, catching the old man by surprise. "You're terrified of me. You don't have to hide it."

" Well, I-" Yanorik stammered, desperately trying to find the words to appease the wrath of the young fighter.

" You needn't waste your breath, old man. Something is wrong."

Burori looked down at his hands, studying the network of scars and calluses. He ran his fingers from one hand down the palm of the other, trying to remember the feel and power of his fist.

" I've lost something. My fighting spirit it's gone."

" Burori," Krinis whispered as she leaned into him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. " It's okay that you don't want to fight anymore."

" But I do," he replied, looking up at her with starry, distant eyes. " I want to fight. There was something in the fighting, the killing something that I can't remember anymore. It was something like peace, but now it's gone."

" Why would you ever want to fight?" Krinis asked, her eyes wide with shock and indignation. " Fighting never solves anything."

" Fighting solves everything," he whispered back, still trying to remember the power of his own fists. " Fighting is freedom. Fighting is life. Without it, I'm nothing."

" I would never fight," she declared as she stepped away from him, her comforting warmth leaving his shoulders. " Fighting is stupid. Fighting gets you hurt or killed, and even if you win, what then? You'll have another fight, and another, and another, until eventually you lose. And that's when you die."

" I never lose," he stated flatly as he looked at her, and she swallowed hard, amazed at the burning conviction in his dark eyes.

" My mother tried to fight," she muttered, her eyes going soft.

" Krinis, don't," pleaded Yanorik from the corner, his old lungs struggling to fill themselves with breath.

" My mother tried to fight Zaros, she tried to escape. The guards killed her. I watched her die." Her eyes became wet, and her voice began to waver. " I still remember what it was like to see her face go white, and to see her blood on the floor. I cried for days before I could eat again. I will never let myself go like that."

" Krinis, don't be sad," Burori consoled, walking over to place his hand on her shoulder. " Your mother died honorably, like a true Saiya-jin."

" My mother wasn't a Saiya-jin," she whimpered, trying to hold back her tears.

" What?" Burori asked, shock erasing all thoughts of sympathy.

" She was human," Krinis said softly as she looked into Burori's astonished eyes.

" Human? So you-" Burori pointed an accusing finger at Yanorik, making the old man tremble in his bed. " You, you defiler! You wretched, perverted thing! How dare you?"

" I was lonely!" the old man pleaded, holding his hands in front of his face. "Zaros put us in the same cell, and what was I to do? Remain alone for years, let myself wither away without comfort or companion?"

" Then that means-" Burori muttered as he looked at Krinis, her confused brown eyes staring at him. " Half-breed."

He felt the spark of something ignite within his chest. He could feel it there, an ancient anger, something primal and untapped that was waiting to be brought to the surface. His tensed body could sense the tide of hatred resting beneath the calm surface, ready to rise up at any moment and engulf him. The bestial rage within his skin excited him, tempted him beyond imagination, but something was blocking it from coming to the surface. There was some piece missing, some vital part of his being that was unable to reach down into that power and ride it through the gates of hell. He faintly remembered a name, but the name meant nothing to him now. There was no link between his fury and his mind, and within moments his anger subsided. The beast within him laid down once more, returning to its uncertain sleep.

" Burori, are you all right?" Krinis asked as she looked into his vacant eyes.

" I'm-" he looked at her, and he could see her lip trembling, her eyes shimmering in the soft light, her body smooth within his touch. His will faltered, and he felt himself giving in to the lies. " I'm fine."

" Burori," she said as she smiled at him. " I'm so glad to have you back with us."

" Does this mean that you're no longer a fighter?" Yanorik asked, his face still painted with nervousness.

" I suppose not," Burori sighed, abandoning his hope of clenching his fists once more.

You lie to yourself, Saiya-jin.

" Azlan!" Burori shouted as he leapt to his feet, trying in vain to see the source of the voice. Krinis and Yanorik looked at him strangely, and with embarrassment he realized that the voice was only inside his head.

You can never stop being a fighter.

" What have you done to me Azlan?" Burori cried out, his voice echoing off of the thick cell walls.

" Azlan," Yanorik muttered, his voice full of contempt. " Burori, do not listen to him. He is a Namek, a liar and a killer. He'll try to draw you into his web of intrigue, to use you as a pawn in his mad games!"

Burori ignored the old man, trying instead to focus on the source of the elusive voice.

I blocked out your hatred.

" Why? Why Azlan?" Burori pressed his hands up against the wall, trying to find a way to get to his tormentor. " I can't fight without my hate!"

A true warrior fights with calm strength and determination.

" Azlan, stop toying with me!" Burori yelled. " I want you to make me like I was!"

I cannot, Saiya-jin.

" Why are you doing this to me?" he demanded, despair reaching its icy claws around his chest.

" Father, who is he talking to?" Krinis asked, her voice barely masking her fear.

" Azlan, the sorcerer slave who has been here longer than I," Yanorik muttered as he held his daughter's hands. " If he is behind this change in Burori, then no good can come of it. I do not trust the creature, and he will surely be the doom of us all."

Zaros is using you as a weapon.

" I don't understand!" Burori screamed as he sat back, flinging his head back in a howl. " Why is this happening?"

Saiya-jin, hope is not lost yet.

" What do you mean?"

If you help me, then we can escape.

" Help you how?" Burori asked, trying to drown out the voices of mocking doubt that crept through his thoughts. " Why do you need my help?"

I need you to help me free the slaves that Zaros uses to maintain his ship.

" But I can't do that," Burori muttered, his mind swirling in empty confusion.

If the engineers are freed, then Zaros will not be able to use his terrible machinery to fulfill his plan.

" It doesn't make any sense," Burori whispered.

Saiya-jin, it is the only way.

" Always this," he whispered to himself, emotions fleeing his body. He was familiar with this sensation, with the feeling of being carried by the winds of fate. He wanted one chance, just one chance, to determine his own destiny. But that always eluded him. There was something he could just barely remember, the blurry memory of some original sin back in the recesses of his mind, but he could not grasp it.

We can defeat Zaros.

" We can defeat Zaros," he repeated softly, the sound of the words seeming alien to his ears.

" What? Are you mad?" Krinis asked as she shook him, trying to snap him out of his entranced state. " Do you realize what you're saying? Zaros is the most powerful being in the universe! We can't beat him."

" Krinis is right, Burori," Yanorik said in a humble tone as he looked absently at the cell grate. " There is no way to escape, no way to defeat the tyrant. He'll crush us all."

Do not listen to them Burori.

" Yes," Burori said, looking into at Krinis's gentle face. " Yes we can. But we need to work together."

No Burori.

" You think we can do it?" Krinis asked, her face now bright with hope.

" Krinis, no," Yanorik protested. " You can't buy into a mad venture like this. I need you. I can't sit back and let what happened to your mother happen to you."

" Azlan," Burori whispered, trying to make his voice soft enough that his cellmates would not hear. " Azlan, if you want me to help you, then you have to help these people too."

Burori, it is too dangerous.

He looked into Krinis's eyes, and he felt something within him burning, like a nest of embers. It was an unfamiliar sensation, totally unlike hate, but it still filled him with a sense of power.

These people have been in Zaros's grip for too long.

Burori's ignored Azlan's voice, so totally enraptured was he by this beautiful woman who was within arm's reach. He touched her, trying to assuage her doubts with his own strength. He found himself blushing at that thought, of someone feeling safe by having him there.

Burori, they cannot be trusted.

Yanorik opened his mouth to protest, but gave in when he saw the way his daughter's eyes seemed attached to the young warrior's body. He sighed with the knowledge of an old man watching youth, and he prayed silently that this violent stranger would be enough to protect the only person he cared about.

" Azlan," Burori whispered, still lost in the depths of his young companion's eyes. " Azlan, this is important to me."

You're making a mistake.

" A mistake shouldn't feel this right," he whispered as he leaned forward, his trembling lips brushing against the young woman's mouth.

� � Azlan broke contact, shaking his head in disgust. This situation was rapidly getting out of hand. Still, he had been able to get the Saiya-jin to work with him, which meant that there was still hope for Namek.

The old Namek stretched his tired muscles, his body pleading for rest. He knew that it was impossible to give in now. The stakes were too high, and lives were being played with on a grand scale. The Saiya-jin was the key to Zaros's plan, but he was the key to Azlan's plan also.

Azlan rubbed his temples, trying to massage away the throbbing pain inside his head. The telepathy taxed his powers, especially within the confines of the ki-resistant cell. Hopefully it would only be a few more days until the time was right for the breakout. The plan was simple from there.

He laid down on the metal floor, trying to envision what his homeland looked like. He loved that far off land, loved it more than any being could ever understand. It called to him like a mother, soothing him from afar. It was the light, guiding the universe along its path. It was the planet of hope, and without it, tyrants like Zaros would rule in darkness for eternity.

Locked in thought, Azlan began to slip away into deep, regenerative meditation. He was glad that he could still think in those terms, in the language of the crusade. Making his personal struggle into a holy war for the fate of the universe made it easier to crush the lives of simple creatures, like the Saiya-jins in the cell next to him.

� � Zaros paced back and forth in his personal chambers, drumming his talons along the rail of his sleeping capsule. Voma had been in the operating room for several hours now, and he still had not gotten report from the medics. He would be sure to punish those fools when he got the chance. Frustration wormed through his mind, blocking out his calm, cool thoughts of ambition. He was so close, and only now were the forces of incompetence and treachery conspiring against him.

He gazed out the window, looking at the stars beyond. Soon they would all be his, billions of worlds floating in the black void, worshipping him. He smiled, and the frustration seemed to drain from his skull. The plan always calmed him in moments like this, giving him the strength to carry on. It had saved him years before, when Freezer had discovered his treachery and he had been forced to flee into the depths of uncharted space. It had guided him through countless voyages through darkness, showing him the path to power. It had allowed him to see the opportunity present in the Saiya-jin corpses strewn out amongst the space rubble.

" The Saiya-jin," he rasped, the word coming off of his tongue like an obscenity. That creature seemed more like a curse than a blessing, but he had worked through hard times before, and soon enough the troublesome tree would bear ripe fruit.

He remembered reading the reports from the communications channels, the shock and disbelief of the news that Freezer was dead. And at the hands of a Saiya-jin, nonetheless. A Super Saiya-jin. The distinction rang clearly in his mind. Arrogance had been the downfall of his old master, but Zaros did not consider himself arrogant. Dreams that would have been mad for other creatures to have were to him cold, calculated ambition.

Off in the distance he saw it. A tiny green orb, rotating around some unnamed star. It was life, gentle and primitive. He could see the ki surrounding it, giving it strength and vigor. It would be perfect.

" Goybi," Zaros hissed as he clicked the microphone on. " Set the Zarastros on a course straight for that green planet 3 o'clock from the prow."

" Yes, master, as you desire," Goybi groveled on the other end of the loudspeaker. " Have the guards rally the slaves, and ready the cannon," Zaros rasped as he flicked the microphone off, leaving him in silence. He looked at the tiny green fleck of life out in the void and laughed.

" This should be an excellent test," he chuckled to himself as he scratched his talons along his dining table. He snatched up his glass, filled with a mixture of blood and liquor, and inhaled the pungent aroma. Soon there would be no one left to stop him.

Soon every world would know his name, and they would worship him.

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