Prologue: Wreckage
I am not responsible for the wonderful characters or storyline from Akira Toriyama that my own story here takes place around.
Even though it follows the Dragon Ball gang's conversation loosely and is scattered, please read the prologue before proceeding to the story. It'll provide the basis of the story!
During the chaotic battle between an amplified Super Saiyan and a freaky foe, many voices pealed out at the same instant:
"What's going on? We're alive?" a bald man with avocado skin tones realized.
In a separate universe, on Earth, a massive scaled dragon lit the darkened sky. "All those killed by Frieza were successfully revived!" His gorgeous head tossed nostalgically before he wished them, "Farewell."
"What's going on? Why am I here?" The chief Namekian touched the chartreuse skin folds on his forehead.
"I'll tear you to shreds just like the other bastard Earthling!" The mauve Frieza taunted our hero with the death of his longtime comrade.
"Send everyone to earth, except Frieza!" The stout, blue King Kai urged.
"If I'm not allowed to finish this fight, I won't forgive you!" Goku grasped at the chance for combat and for vengeance.
"How should I know what's going on, Gohan?" Bulma, unfazed by the shattering planet, answered Gohan's question in annoyance.
"How am I alive?" Vegeta's firm gaze was on his hands, those he had freshly regained.
The always lit, Namekian sky darkened with supernatural intention. Between the clashing foes, anxious King Kai, dying elder Namekian, disoriented Bulma and Gohan, and bewildered Namekians, time stopped as a child's voice rang out urgently in an alien tongue. "Excluding Goku and Frieza, I wish for everyone on Namek to be transported to Earth!"
A different atmosphere coalesced around them all, a familiar one.
"What?" Bulma asked of no one in particular.
"We're on earth, everyone," a resonant voice assured, trying to make sense of the chaos for the bemused gathering.
"A village is missing!" an alarmed antennae-head exclaimed. "Where are they?"
Their murderer came forward. "I killed them. You asked Shenlong to bring back those killed by Frieza and his team. It's too bad that I wasn't with them." Although he mentioned it was 'too bad,' Vegeta's words were decidedly not an apology.
The Namekians' alarm was overwhelming. The children made quiet squeals of dismay. They had died through Frieza's men. Here they were, again plagued with one of the violent marauders who had shocked them from their gentle lifestyles over the past week.
The chief Namekian interrupted with a grunt of pain and his children abandoned their terror for Vegeta, and replaced it with concern for their father. He grunted again as youthful Namekians rushed to support him. They watched his large body crumple to the ground. "Fear not, Children. There is safety here for the time being." His old senile eyes twinkled at everyone present, landing for perhaps an extra second on Vegeta. "May peace be with the Namekian!" he declared. Silence followed his last words as animation slipped from his body, and his body slipped the rest of the way to the ground.
The present Earthlings were silenced for even a moment more than the Namekians until they were able to steel themselves to handle the situation at hand. "What about Goku?" Piccolo finally asked. His anger surfaced. "Staying there to fight is too rash! Frieza's power is too much for him!"
"You're wrong, Piccolo," Gohan said with cool confidence, his eyes twinkled with his secret. "Dad became a Super Saiyan!" he conveyed, shocking the others speechless.
Wh-what? Vegeta's alarm quickly melted into narcissistic confidence. Impossible! He thought with a smirk.
At that moment, on the other end of a distant galaxy, debris scattered as the planet of Namek dispersed into oblivion.
A voice, then, telepathically resounded in Bulma's head. "Bulma, do you hear me?"
Her breath hitched. It was Yamcha who she had mourned over for the past two months, crying her eyes out every time she found herself alone. Only the idea that he would be brought back to her consoled her. Worse still, the last time he was still breathing they had been fighting. Consequently, the memory of the last nasty thing she had said to him was an object of self-torment. How could she use words to undo everything now?
As a rule, Yamcha and Bulma didn't say apologies to each other. Usually, their anger or sadness towards each other would be eclipsed by some random, accidental circumstance: namely, the Earth being in danger, yet again. "How are you?" she said lamely, helpless from the shame.
"Other than being dead, I'm well," he said, impatiently. A world-shattering circumstance would yet again distract and send their problems to the back of their minds. "Listen, Son killed Frieza."
Bulma's exuberance at the news would not be kept down. "Everyone! Goku killed Frieza!" she reported.
Vegeta perked up at this outburst. Kakarotto killed Frieza? The man's denial could only go so far. When his narcissism was coupled with Kakarotto's magnificent show of strength and this news of vanquish, straight from the back of Kaio-sama, he succumbed to the Super Saiyan yarn, his denial crumbling from the weight of the facts.
Bulma interrupted his thoughts, shrilly. "Son died when Namek exploded! What a bummer!" she shouted, unappreciative of his sacrifice.
"He didn't make it?" Gohan flinched.
"What are you thinking, being so indelicate!" Yamcha confronted her loudly.
"Ignorant, aren't you? The Namekians' dragon balls can be used without limitations. We can use them to bring Goku and the others back!" she answered in blissful confidence.
"You're the ignorant one! Because Goku and Krillin died on Namek, that's where they'll be brought back. They'll be resurrected and then immediately suffocate in space." Her indelicacy was dwarfed as tactlessness, yet again.
Where there's a will, there's a way, and that desire to victor over even death, was found in Vegeta's Saiyan veins. "Your ignorance is too much," he started, much on the same wavelength of Yamcha and Bulma. "Bring their souls here; whatever it takes." His vigor was simultaneously mistaken by the gathering:
"That could work!"
"We can do this!"
"You're not so bad after all!"
"Don't get me wrong!" he snarled as his thoughts went on vehemently in his head. I'm not your friend. My intentions lie with seeing Kakarotto's power and defeating it with my own.
A Namekian village leader presented the question. "Until we have access to a suitable planet, where will our people stay?"
Bulma presented the answer. In the fashion of a mock instructor, she pointed a finger, put her other hand on her hip, pursed her lips, and winked at the Namekian. "I have just the answer. My house has the room and you have the dragon balls. Fair, no?"
But what exactly made her turn to the murderous cause of her good mood? And what gave her the courage she generally lacked to calmly invite the would-be-convict to stay with her and the Namekians?
Although I haven't come up with anything of my own please let me know if you like this so far, or if you don't, for that matter.