"Stop picking on me."
A shrill voice whines from the mouth of a child Namekian surrounded by his peers.
"Stop picking on me," the leader of the group says in a mocking echo. "I guess we should just stop and leave Nail alone, right boys?"
The other two snicker. One of them shoves Nail to his hands and knees.
"We're just trying to toughen you up," he says. "You're always going to be a weakling if we don't build some character for you."
"Yeah," says the third boy, "you don't want to be a failure your whole life do you."
He kicks Nail in the ribs. Nail flips over, and the heel of the leader grinds into the side of his head.
"Yeah Nail," says the leader. "You're just a failure. A Nailure!"
He laughs at his joke. His cohorts join. They each kick him one more time and walk away.
"See ya' later, Nailure."
"Don't cry too much, Nailure."
"Bye bye Naiiiluuure!"
They chant as they leave.
"Failure, failure, Nail is a failure."
Nail waits for their voices to vanish before getting up. He pokes his fat lip and winces. Blood stains his finger. He spits out a purple glob of saliva.
"Why do you let those kids treat you that way?"
Nail starts at the voice. Embarrassment fills him as he faces whoever watched his ass kicking. He finds a tragically thin adult sitting in the shade of a tree. The meditative form the Namekian holds unfurls into a casual position with outstretched legs. Nail can tell that despite being fully grown, the Namekian would be barely twice as tall as the bullies.
"Well what am I supposed to do," says Nail. "They're bigger than me, and there's more of them."
"I meant stand up for yourself, not win a fight against them," says the man.
"I've tried that, but it never works."
"Giving up just because it didn't work won't make it better. You need to stand up for your feelings every single time you feel wronged even if you don't think it will change other people's behavior."
"Oh yeah, who told you that?"
"My father did. And he lived by it every day. He was short like me and never won a fight in his life, but everyone was careful not to start one with him because they knew they would walk away with some serious bruises."
"Did he get in a lot of fights?"
"Yep. He felt like he had something to prove. His dream was to become a great champion and join the warriors of legend. He thought getting into fights would toughen him up."
"Did it work?"
The man grins.
"Nope. Not at all. But he always told me he would use his left arm to preserve our people's past, and his right arm to protect our future. I want to carry on his memory by becoming a great champion and follow his mantra."
"You? A champion of our people? Pfft, no way. We haven't had a champion in ages. What makes you think you'll be the next one?"
The man hangs his head.
"That's harsh. I thought I'd get sympathy from you at least. I may not be big and burly like the other warriors, but I'll win the Champion Trials and become a fantastic warrior one day."
Nail studies his face for any sign of this being a joke. He finds none.
"What's your name?" he says.
"You can call me Slug. Everyone else does."
"What? Why would you tell me to stick up for myself and then go around letting people call you a stupid name like Slug."
"Hey it's better than Nailure."
The man laughs.
Nail's face scrunches as tears well up in his eyes.
"I'm sorry kid. I didn't mean it like that. Hey look, I'm sorry, okay."
Slug gets up and kneels beside Nail. He claps a hand on his shoulder.
"What I meant was, I wear the name Slug with pride. I know people try to insult me with it, but I just turn it around and make the best of it. Now it just upsets them when I don't get offended by the mean nickname."
Nail stops crying. Slug smiles.
"Alright then," says Nail. "I'll start sticking up for myself if you keep working to become the next champion of our people."
"You got it kid."
###
Nail awakens in a hammock strung up along the back wall of the Earthlings' spherical ship. He rubs his forehead and massages the memory back into the depths of his mind. A quick survey of the crew reveals the short bald one and the woman standing beside a workstation table while the father and son practice martial arts forms. Namekuji meditates.
"You really think you can repurpose their blasters?" says Krillin.
He scans over the salvaged parts left behind after their battle with the galactic empire's army. It all looks like junk to him.
"Hey, I turned their scouter technology into training equipment didn't I? Compared to that, this should be a snap."
Krillin smiles into her enlarged eyes behind the magnifying goggles she wears.
"It's good to see you smiling again. I can't remember the last time I saw it, but it's nice."
"Yeah, good friends, a hobby, and taking time away from it all have done me a lot of good. Thank you so much for being there every step of the way. I know I've just been a huge, reclusive mope for a long time now."
"Don't say that, you've been dealing with a lot. We all have. Hopefully we'll fix that soon enough."
Bulma nods.
"Can you show me how to do some of this stuff?" he asks.
"Sure. Put these on."
Krillin takes the goggles from her. The magnification distorts his vision. He wavers around with unbalanced steps.
"Woah, how do you work in these?"
She grabs his shoulders and stabilizes him. He looks at her hands.
"You need to focus on something specific, not try to walk around with them."
He examines the enlarged hairs and pores of her skin as she leads him to the table.
"Now grab your tools."
His clumsy hands flop atop the table. Bulma's fingertips touch the back of his hands, and they stop.
"Here, let me help."
Krillin's heart races a little as Bulma's hands maneuver a pair of tweezers and a soldering pen into his fingers. Her warmth against his back and the tickling of her chin as it bumps the top of his head a couple times comforts him.
She gives him instructions which he fails to follow with any kind of precision. They laugh each time something goes haywire.
"I guess putting on the goggles doesn't make me smarter after all," says Krillin.
He laughs and slides them off to hand them back.
"Maybe not but you make a cute lab assistant with them on," says Bulma, taking them.
"You really think so? I figured I just look like a big bug."
They laugh and continue augmenting the weaponry with Bulma doing the work, and Krillin fetching whatever tools and parts she asks for.
On the other side of the ship, Goku circles Gohan with fingers clasped around his chin. He observes every movement and monitors the flow of his ki through his body.
"You're doing good Gohan, but your energy seems restricted today. You feeling okay?"
Gohan stops and looks at his feet.
"I … I still feel useless. I couldn't hold my own in that last battle. That's why Piccolo died. How am I supposed to bring him back if I still need so much help."
"Fighting a large group of enemies is way different than just fighting a single strong opponent. I was struggling myself so don't judge yourself too hard."
He kneels down and hugs Gohan.
"Besides, saving you when you're in trouble is what being a dad is all about. I'll always be there when you need me."
Gohan sniffles and looks up.
"Really?"
Goku nods.
"You bet. We'll get the Dragon Balls and bring everyone back. No sweat."
"Yeah!"
Gohan gives a joyous laugh.
Nail watches them with disdain. His eyes flick to Namekuji, but he just sits in a meditative position.
Nail growls and approaches the control desk. The flashing lights and graphics confound and aggravate him. He bellows a booming question.
"How much longer until we arrive?"
The five other members of the crew stop what they are doing to look at him. He does not return the favor. Bulma walks to his side.
"This one you big jerk."
She points to one of the gauges that seems to indicate the ship's location in relation to the destination.
"And that's assuming that little homing signal of yours is right," says Bulma. "We're basically flying blind into space hoping you pointed us in the right direction."
"We're going the right way, I can feel it."
"Then why did you ask?"
"Because it's taking too long."
They glare at each other.
"Uh, Mr. Nail."
Their eyes slip to their corners to find Gohan next to them.
"I'm sorry it's taking so long. I understand how eager you are to get back something precious to you. I'm hoping we can help you and get Mr. Piccolo back too."
Nail snarls and reveals a fang. The child's innocence softens his anger.
"This Piccolo, he is one of my kind, is that right?"
"Yes, only he and all of us never knew until some alien warriors came to our planet and told us."
"I've never met a foreigner who cared about the members of my species beyond their selfish desire to use us. What makes this Piccolo so special?"
"He was my teacher and my friend. He taught me martial arts and how to use ki. And he took care of me for almost a whole year while my father was away.
"He even gave his life to save mine in our battle with those aliens. Do you have anyone in your life like that, Mr. Nail?"
The nightmarish image of Slug's back as Nail flies off in the escape ship flashes across his mind. Emotional distress grips him, and he spins away from Gohan. He inhales a deep breath.
"I did once. A long time ago. I'm going to get some more sleep, hopefully we'll be there when I wake up."
Before he can walk away, Dende's staticky voice crackles from a speaker on the console.
"Nail, Nail, are you there?"
Bulma gives Nail a wry smile.
"Looks like someone misses you," she says.
"I'm not going to answer."
"You're such a grouch," says Bulma. She presses a button on the console by the speaker. "Dende, sweetie, is that you?"
"Yes, I'd like to speak with Nail, please."
"I know you do, honey, but we didn't give you that communicator for personal phone calls. We will call you when we find what we're looking for. So unless this is an emergency, please don't use the communicator. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I do. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. We'll call you soon."
Bulma looks at Nail.
"Would that have been so hard?" she says.
Nail rolls his eyes and turns away. Goku gives him a strange smile as he walks to his hammock.
The goofy grin grows as Goku sizes his aura up against Nail's. He watches him stride to the hammock and climb in, back to the rest of the room.
Man is he strong, thinks Goku. I had no idea guys like him and Vegeta existed beyond Earth. I wonder how hard he had to work to get this powerful. How hard will I have to work to catch up? I'll have to get back to serious training soon!
"Come on Gohan," says Bulma. "You said you were interested in learning some tech stuff. Let me show you what I'm working on."
Gohan grins and follows her and Krillin back to the workstation.
###
The crew stares at the planet on their screen. A pulsing wound on the black flesh of space. Jaundice haze surrounds bleeding red clouds covered in the black and purple scabs of storms.
"Is that really our homeworld?" says Namekuji. "It's awful."
Nail grimaces but cannot deny the familiar aura twisted with the tainted evil.
"It is," he says. "We'll restore its natural beauty as soon as we recover the Dragon Balls."
"Is it safe to go down there?" Krillin says.
"If we survive the turbulence, I can check if the air is breathable," says Bulma.
"That really doesn't make me feel better."
"Well we've come too far to turn back now."
"I guess you're right."
He gulps and turns to Goku. His friend gives him a confident smile and nod. Krillin firms up and extends a fist
"Let's do it then! For Yamaha and the others!"
The ship plunges into the violent atmosphere. The crew slam around in their constricting seatbelts as the vessel obeys the will of the wind. Rain and ice batter the hull. Creaks and crashes threaten to rip open the walls. Lights and alarms flash as sparks burst from the control panel.
The vibrations rattle their heads and bruise the vertebrae of their necks. Bulma shuts her eyes so she will not vomit from vertigo. Painful minutes pass until things start to settle. One final impact rattles the ship as it lands.
Bulma stands up but almost falls back to her seat. She pinches her eyes shut and steadies herself. The dizziness passes so she can operate the control panel.
"Hmm. Readings indicate the air is not safe to breathe. Looks like we'll be wearing spacesuits."
Bulma leaves the room while the men step into mostly orangish yellow suits. Navy patches cover the shoulders and outer thighs.
Goku slides stretchy white sleeves down the length of his arms. He flexes them in the puffy material and finds they are quite mobile. His gloves and boots attach to the ends of his sleeves and leggings with a double air tight seal.
He examines a helmet and sees two flashlights attached to either side above the shoulders. He clamps it down on his suit and finds the glass is wide enough to not obscure his peripherals.
With everyone suited up, Bulma rejoins them in her own identical gear. They approach the chamber for decompression which seals off the main door to the ship. They enter three at a time with Goku opting to go first with the two Namekians. They wait for a green light of approval before cracking open the hatch to the world outside.
Nail staggers through the wasteland that was once his lush home. The powerful trees and their beautiful blossoms are nowhere to be seen. The soft soil is now a fragile gravel that flattens to dust when stepped upon. The wind quickly sweeps it away.
The deep ravines of crystal clear water that separated the landmasses into an archipelago have dwindled to a swampy soup. The blackened sky above twists with angry fury as red clouds spit yellow rain and crackle with purple lightning.
Goku watches the despair on Nail's face grow with every second. Namekuji seems to take the catastrophic landscape better than his brethren. Goku opens his mouth to ask how Nail is feeling, but the door to the ship opens again. Bulma, Krillin, and Gohan step into the hellish landscape and their faces are filled with the same horror as Nail's.
"How awful," says Bulma. "I was really hoping it looked worse from space than it was. I'm so sorry to both of you."
"It's fine," says Namekuji. "I was born after the tragedy, so I don't have any memories to compare it to. But we're here to fix it right, so none of this really matters?"
"I guess," says Bulma. "I hope we can help."
"Yeah," says Krillin, "the sky looks like it does when you summon the Eternal Dragon."
"Does the sky turn dark when the Dragon is summoned?" says Namejuji.
"It sure does. Gives me the creeps," says Krillin with a shiver.
"Interesting," says Namekuji. "I guess we should start looking then. Any ideas?"
"Let me check the Dragon Radar for any signals."
"You have a radar that can detect the Dragon Balls?" says Namekuji as he watches Bulma rummage in a satchel at her waist.
"Yes," she says, pulling it free and clicking the button. "It's how we find them back home." Her face frowns. "Nothing. There's no Dragon Balls anywhere."
"Uh, what if they use a different frequency," says Krillin. "Maybe that would prevent them from showing up."
"I suppose. I could try adjusting the receiver and see if anything comes in."
"No time!" says Goku. "A huge life force is heading this way, and it doesn't seem friendly."
Krillin looks at Goku and finds him and Nail in a fighting position.
"You guys sense someone's energy," says Namekuji. "I don't see anythi—"
A huge fighter concealed in a moldy black cloak crashes a crater before them. Krillin leaps back from the hazy purple aura emanating from the warrior. He swears for a moment a pair of red eyes flash from within the swirling energy and singles him out.
Stained and soiled clothes peek from beneath the cloak. Whatever color they used to be are now dingy shades of brown.
"We're not here to fight," says Goku.
The obscured man roars and charges him.
"Nail, let's go," he says.
Goku rushes to meet the attacker, but Nail does not move to join him.
Goku swings a fist, but the enemy bulldozes him and presses him to the earth. The ground parts as Goku splits it with his body. He struggles against the painful grip clamping his upper arms but cannot break their bonds.
"Come on Nail," says Krillin as he leaps into action with Gohan right behind him.
Nail remains motionless. His lungs tighten and constrict his airways. The monstrous aura blankets him with a creeping suspicion his brain wants to keep buried.
The cloaked man stands tall above Goku and stomps a foot upon his chest. He flicks his other foot behind himself and catches Krillin in the chin to stop his attack.
Seeing this, Gohan sways back and barely avoids a backhanded slap. He raises his hands above his head. A painful cry from his father heightens his anger.
"Masenko!"
He drops his hands and fires a flash of ki. The brilliant light fades to reveal a smoking palm from the foe.
"Run Gohan!"
Goku grips the ankle anchoring him to the ground. He lifts it an inch before it presses back down and smashes him deeper into the dirt.
A deep orange sphere forms in the man's brown, wrinkled hand. Purple streaks of light escape his fingers as the color shimmers across the surface of the growing orb.
"Aren't you going to help?" Bulma says.
"I'm not really much of a fighter," says Namekuji. "But I can run interference if he tries to attack the ship."
"Do I have to do everything?"
She throws a capsule which spawns a thick briefcase. She pulls from it the modified blaster she worked on and straps it to her arm.
She charges to the sidelines of battle and takes aim. She clicks the button on the side of the grip in her palm several times.
Yellow darts fire from the muzzle and pelt the enemy's torso. They work their way up to his face and finally get him to wince.
Goku gives a mighty shove during the distraction. His arms straighten, pushing the foot away and the man off balance.
Krillin swoops in on an arced path and kicks the foe's wrist. It shifts just an inch as it shoots at Gohan.
The blast deafens Gohan's left ear as it whizzes through the crook of his neck and shoulder.
Goku slides out from under the foot and rolls away. Upon regaining his feet, he looks to Krillin who nods.
They both rush the mold covered man side by side. They swing their inside legs low and spin away from none another. Their feet sweep the man's shins out from under him.
As they complete a full spin, they rise and kick with the same legs again. Goku's shin impacts the adversary's chest at the same time Krillin hits the foe's stomach.
They plant their feet and cup their hands at their hip while chanting in unison.
"Kamehameha!"
Their blue blasts rocket from their hands and crash the enemy. The beams drive him back. He blows across the ground until it gives way to the sea. He speeds across it until smashing into a rocky plateau on the next island over.
Goku and Krillin catch their breaths while Gohan drops in beside them. They jump when an eruption of earth explodes up from the plateau. The man leads the clods of dirt and rocks as they ascend high above the trailing dust cloud.
Goku gapes at the now cloakless figure. Though his skin is brown and wrinkled, the unmistakable features of a Namekian make themselves known. Antennae and pointed ears line the skull and jaw of his face which reminds Goku of an elder Demon King Piccolo. The most startling difference in their appearance is the sightless, milky white eye with a horrible scar across it.
Nail stares into that eye. His knees tremble, and his arms, chest, and back break out in bumps. They tighten his skin as his tension builds.
"It can't be…"
Sadness sags his face.
"It just can't be…"
The old Namekian reaches the apex of his ascent and divebombs Goku, Krillin, and Gohan. His arms wave with wild whiplashes to rain down a scattershot of ki bolts.
Goku and the others dance between the explosions. Heat burns their skin while flying debris bruises it. A stray shot flies directly at their ship.
Namekuji jumps between them with crossed arms. The sphere explodes over him, sending him hurtling against the ship. The hull dents from the impact and throws him to the ground.
Bulma runs to his side to check him.
The smoke clears, and Goku braces for the charging Namekian. A second figure zips in beside the enemy and kicks him in the side.
The Namekian splashes into the water displacing enough to send a wave of it surging over the shore.
"Oy," says the new arrival. "What's the big idea throwing a party and not inviting us, eh?"
Krillin stares at the huge man with giant muscles. His bright orange skin brings some much needed contrast to the grisly scene of the atmosphere.
"Us?"
Three more figures swoop in as the Namekian washes up on land.
"Wow, you strangers actually did a number on old One-Eye," says a tall, lean man with an angelic face.
His long blonde hair drapes over the pale teal skin of his exposed shoulders. Air freely flows through the lilac shawl wrapped around his torso as a shirt.
"Let's not waste the opportunity," says a muscular gargoyle hovering next to him on flapping wings.
He enters free fall and aims his right shoulder at One-Eye, pulling himself from the water. The brazen brown skin of his arms and head surrounding the black armor of his torso give him the appearance of a flaming meteor.
A short goblin man cries out in a shrill voice.
"Finally! Get him my babies."
His huge yellow eyes with tiny pupils roll up and away from each other before recentering. Four huge boils bubble up from the dark green skin of his exposed back. Tiny life forms take shape and slide around in the mucus filled sacs.
The boils pop, and four miniature versions of himself take flight from his back. They zoom after the gargoyle.
The winged man exhales a lingering grunt. His right arm swells with power and enlarges. The shoulder overtakes his head while the bent elbow extends to below his hip. He flaps his wings to push himself faster.
The overgrown arm smashes One-Eye beneath it. A crater instantly forms and fills with water from the sea.
A burst of purple aura pushes the gargoyle from the hole. His arm returns to its normal size as his wings stabilize him in the air.
One-Eye stands upright and roars. He sets his sights on the gargoyle, but the goblin clones attach themselves to each of his arms and legs. His vaporous aura shrinks as the energy siphons into the tiny bodies.
He reaches for the two replicas on his left arm and leg. A fist on a stretched arm cross punches him in the cheek. The angelic man flies in behind his extended limb with the other arm lengthening to match. It tags One-Eye in the gut. Both fists rear back like a snake and strike from random angles as the man closes the distance between them.
One-Eye roars and light fills his throat. He spits a nasty ki orb at the angelic man who narrowly dodges by stretching his midsection sideways. The attack passes through the loop between his hips so his shoulders. His body slides back into place.
The huge, orange skinned man who first showed up drops in behind One-Eye and clamps his arms around the enemy's waist. The hold pins One-Eye's arms to his side.
"All right boys, let's finish this monster off," he says. "Medamatcha, keep draining his power. Dorodabo, let's see you flex those big muscles. And Angira, show us those graceful moves of yours. I'll squeeze him until he breaks!"
"Right Zeeun!" says the other three.
Zeeun's flaming red hair swishes between his shoulder blades as One-Eye struggles. Dorodabo flaps his wings to land before the restrained opponent. His fists start pumping punches into the exposed torso. His knuckles sink deep with every strike as the body braces against Zeeun's mighty chest.
One-Eye's aura shrinks faster as Medamatcha's minions draw it in harder. Medamatcha seats himself with his legs wrapped around the back of Zeeun's neck. He grabs the enemy's shoulders and siphons more energy into his own body.
Angira curls his elongated punches around his teammates to smack One-Eye's head back and forth. It bobbles in every direction around the axis of his neck.
Zeeun's arms compress the foe's waist. His elbows slide closer together as he pinches the hold tighter.
Nail senses the Namekian's life force slipping away. He watches the old man's good eye scan the battlefield. It falls upon Nail.
The sharp edges of the vertical slit pupil soften. It shrinks into a round shape as it pleas for help with the torture. Nail screams.
"No, stop! You'll kill him."
His aura breaks forth from his body, and he rushes towards the beating. He charges a ki blast in each hand.
"Get away from him! Get away from Slug!"
The four new arrivals turn their heads to him. He fires the ki shots which force Dorodabo and Angira to jump aside. He flies straight at Zeeun and swings a foot at his face.
Zeeun releases his grip and drops back out of the way.
Now free, Slug shoots off into the sky at breakneck speed. He rips the clones from his body and tosses them aside. He disappears into the distance.
"What the hell did you do that for!" says Zeeun. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"You obviously don't know who that was," says Nail.
"I sure as hell do! That monster is the murderer of my people. And we almost had that bastard for once."
"He's no murderer. That was Slug. The greatest champion Namek has ever seen. I don't know what has possessed him, but killing him isn't the answer."
Zeeun slams his knuckles against Nail's stomach. Nail stumbles back and takes a fighting stance.
"You speak of a world that doesn't exist anymore. This is our home now."
"No you're just the mazoku scum who stole our home from us. This place was once beautiful, and you've soiled it with your filth."
"You better watch your tongue," says Angira. "We aren't the ones who caused the catastrophe. What you see now is the way your people left it for us. It's what our ancestors adapted to. So don't go acting all high and mighty."
Nail broadens his shoulders and raises to his full height to confront the challenging words.
"How dare you speak lies. I was there when it happened. I saw the demons that terrorized my people. And all four of you reek of that awful stench."
Zeeun steps up to him. Their chests bump. Nail cannot match the height and width of his body.
"Before you dig that hole of yours any deeper with your ignorance, let me show you how wrong you are."
Nail frowns.
Goku tenses for a fight.
"Fine," says Nail. "Prove me wrong. If you can."