Outlanders
Chapter 48: The Lay of the Land
Vegeta's hand came to rest on the edge of his battle pod. To his touch it felt brittle, and he knew it was more worn, slower, and less comfortable than any of the newer models he could request, but he still appreciated it for what it was, what it represented. It was a tether to his past, replete with all the scratches, cuts, scuffs, and dents that could never really be fully smoothed over without replacing it entirely, but those scars made it what it was. This was the ship that carried him into battle and brought hellfire on the unsuspecting victims of whatever planet he was tasked to, as it was the ship that brought him back to his port of rest after every bone-crushing battle without fail. He wouldn't trade it for any luxury or asset in the galaxy. It was, in a word, priceless. 'That is what they told me, Nappa,' Vegeta finally spoke, pulling his mind back to the present matter at hand. 'They claim that, when we apprehended them, they were hunting down Raditz's allies.'
Behind him, situated just near the edges of the landing pad, Nappa shifted on his feet. 'And they expect us to believe that?' Nappa asked, clearly amused. 'Do they think we're that dense?'
'We shouldn't be so quick to dismiss their theory. Raditz could have been planning on betraying us,' Vegeta cautioned, 'even if he apparently died before he could do so.' He half-turned his head to Nappa. 'There's been no more launches from Earth, correct?'
'None. But you have to admit, Vegeta, that their story is far too convenient for them. It puts their goals directly in-line with ours.' At his side, Nappa clenched his hand into a fist. 'If Raditz had actually betrayed us, we would have hunted that traitor down to the ends of the galaxy. They knew this. So it just so happens that they were doing our job for us? Rooting out whoever was pulling his strings? I don't buy it.'
'I'm under no illusions that they're holding information from us,' Vegeta stated in a low voice. 'But the fact remains that they're offering this lie even with the knowledge that we could end their lives without so much as a wave of our hands. That piques my interest- what would motivate them to go to such lengths to protect what they know?'
'There's a way to find out.' Nappa's mouth curved in a predatory smile. 'I could always go to Earth and knock around some heads.'
'It's certainly an idea,' Vegeta murmured. 'There's something that happened between them and Raditz that they aren't telling us. But-', Vegeta now fully turned to Nappa, 'we'll need to wait to examine the option further, among others, until after I return from Arcosia.'
Upon hearing this, Nappa's face immediately drew into a frown. 'You're meeting him on Arcosia? Not on his ship?'
'No,' Vegeta said, looking over his shoulder at Nappa and exhaling. 'Not on his ship.'
The wind pushed across the landing pad, scattering dust and dirt, and seized their conversation. Through slitted eyes, Nappa stared at Vegeta, curled his right hand into a fist, and diagonally laid it across his own chest. 'I'll be awaiting your return, my Prince.'
The significance of the gesture was not lost on Vegeta. He nodded in acknowledgment and climbed into his ship. With the hiss of its hydraulics, the pod hatch began swinging down, slowly removing Nappa from his vision. As the craft powered up around him, and the computer buzzed and blinked to process its pre-imputed destination, the Prince of Saiyans lapsed into reflection once more.
He hoped this wouldn't be the last trip his ship would make.
0o0o0
Piccolo could taste it. His vision narrowed, his pulse quickened, his body collectively clenched in anticipation as the air around him zoomed past him with scant appreciation for this moment. Every emotion imaginable was at the tips of his fingers, waiting for the proper moment to be expressed. Exhilaration was what currently motivated him-what sent him hurtling forward towards some far-off, quaint-looking planet. It was an undeniable rush to finally rush towards what had been his goal, his sole reason to trudge on in what Piccolo oscillated in believing was the universe's equivalent of purgatory, steadily grow larger in front of him. On that planet awaited a true master, someone who trains only the most worthy deceased beings in the galaxy. This North Kai would help him, without-
Uh. Would there be any consequences for shoving that insufferable human off the edge of the path? Would North Kai even be aware of such a fact? Perhaps he ought to think of a lie. "Krillin, ultimately, gave up. He must be miles and miles behind us now…" That'll do.
Satisfied, Piccolo refocused his attention on the planet. It seemed that he had judged the size of the planet wrong- it was growing in his visual field much faster than he would have expected. No matter. He abruptly clamped on his ki, depriving his flight of any more energy- but, inexplicably, he didn't slow down. Alarmingly., Piccolo noted that he was actually speeding up as he approached the planet. His limbs thrust to all sides, Piccolo hurriedly focused his energy to his front, working to slow down his momentum.
Uh… He wasn't slowing down. Contrary to what he expected, he continued to move very quickly. Uh!-
As ungracefully as any being in the known universe could have managed, complete with his limbs desperately flailing in every direction around him, Piccolo slammed into the planet face-first, throwing up a small spout of dirt in a circular pattern. As it turns out, the planet was much smaller than he had thought it to be.
Pain, then shame held him in this position for several seconds. It hadn't seriously hurt to collide with an asteroid-sized planet, of course, but it wasn't pleasant either. When it came to move, however, Piccolo found that he couldn't; it was like a steel blanket had been draped over his entire body, snuggling him flush to the ground. What's going on!?
Muted sounds of figures shifting reached his ears. He wasn't alone. Focusing his efforts and his ki, Piccolo barely managed to prop his head up by his chin.
Several feet away from him, two figures were lounging in lawn chairs, each one half-turned and curiously appraising him. One looked decidedly godly- their antennae, formal clothes, pale blue skin, and not least the massive Kai symbol blazoned on their front were anything but ambiguous as to their significance. The other figure looked human. Suspiciously human. Something deep in Piccolo's brain pulsed at the sight of the otherwise normal-looking man. He might have thought more of it if he hadn't been distracted by the figures' similar black-tinted eyewear.
Piccolo's attention then rounded on the drinks they held a few inches away from each other. Were they about to clink glasses? What the hell did I stumble in on?
The human stood, setting their drink down on their seat with one hand and smoothing back their long, silky black hair across their head and down their neck with the other. 'This is a surprise,' the human remarked. 'You look different.' His gaze seemed to be searching the sky above Piccolo.
Piccolo narrowed his eyes at the human. There was something much too familiar about him.
'Wasn't there supposed to be two of them?' the one still seated asked lazily. Instead of standing, he had made himself more comfortable in his chair.
A long pause. 'There was,' the human replied, his tone less friendly than just a few moments before. He strode across what Piccolo now recognized as grass and crouched down next to the Namekian. Piccolo was helpless as the stranger rested a hand on his head; at the point of contact, a strange sensation spread across his body, reminding Piccolo of the action of flipping pages in a book. Not that he'd done much reading in his life- I don't think I've ever read a book, actually. But I have a sense of it. Father?...
Without warning the human rose, withdrawing their hand from Piccolo's head and severing whatever sensation had brushed Piccolo's mind. His displeasure was written clearly on their face. 'I shouldn't have expected anything different,' the man said in a low voice- he was angry, though not in a "attack him" sort of way. More like "angry inconvenienced".
The human stepped away from Piccolo and cast a glance at the seated person behind him. 'I need to go fix something. Keep an eye on this one while I'm gone.'
The pale blue-skinned person gave a curt wave. 'Come back soon! You'll miss the best part!'
Then, faster than Piccolo could track, the human in front of him blasted off the surface of the planet into the sky. It was… effortless. His strength… His fingers dug into the grass and dirt. It's unimaginable!
'Take however long you need, by the way,' the other one called out to him, shaking Piccolo out of his thoughts. The Namekian spared a look and saw him still seated and sipping on their drink. 'People usually take a while to get used to the gravity.'
'Gravity?'
'Yep.'
'That's why I can't move?'
'Yep.'
'So I'm supposed to struggle until I can stand?'
'He took a long sip of their drink. 'Yep.'
Piccolo frowned. Endless tests! 'You're North Kai, aren't you?'
The seated figure adjusted his glasses and flashed Piccolo a grin. 'Get yourself off the ground and I'll answer every question you have. And I am North Kai, if you were wondering.'
0o0o0
Krillin should have felt angry, betrayed, anything- but he there was nothing to feel. Even as his body fluttered through yellow clouds that grew thicker and thicker as he descended, thrown into its current predicament by an unexpected elbow blow, his mind was far away from where he was physically.
I thought we were getting along well.
The disconnect between what he thought was true and what actually was true stung. It stung a lot. Piccolo had become something akin to a pillar for Krillin- he had become the only reminder of a life he had before death and the goal that awaited him at the end of Snake Way. Which isn't to say Piccolo would have been his first choice for this role, though. He probably would have enjoyed any one of his many friends' company over the glum and taciturn Namekian. But Piccolo had been enough- though he had groaned and complained and, even though he tried to disguise his own frustration, was obviously incensed at the length of their journey. Krillin hadn't needed someone who made good chit-chat or was even kind to him. He had needed solidarity. For every step of the way, Piccolo was right beside him.
And to be right there- glimpsing North Kai's planet peacefully wedged into place just a bit into the distance- only to be forcefully yanked away from journey's end was shattering. But, again, he didn't feel any anger. If anything, he felt disappointment towards his traveling companion.
I thought he knew better.
The clouds around Krillin now began to thin out and weaken- more of an ever-present pink background became visible. Krillin suddenly realized that he was still falling. He should have hit something solid by now. He looked down- and all he could see were low-lying grey clouds obscuring what must have been the ground. It was still an incredibly long distance away considering how fast he was presently moving. He was sure that, in all the time he'd been alive, he had never fallen continuously for this long before. Okay...
With slow and deliberate effort, ki began to flow out from Krillin's body, slowing his never-ending freefall into a controlled hover. His momentum soon slowed to nothing, pulling the whipping air away from his skin. He seemed to be in the middle of nowhere- he was just below the visually impenetrable mass of yellow clouds he had just fallen out from amidst an endless darkened air that swirled and coiled through the air like a hundred thousand snakes. Wherever he was, it didn't seem welcoming. With a shrug, he began to accelerate upwards back from whence he came.
Krillin was mere feet from passing back into the clouds when he felt his momentum vanish. 'Huh?' he muttered, verbalizing his confusion. He examined his body and then the beginning of the thick clouds just a few feet above him. Tentatively, he extended his arm up. It pressed against a translucent barrier that refused to be solid; depending on how fast or slow he reached his arm towards it, it would appear at various distances away from him. Not in any circumstance did it disappear entirely, however.
'What the hell?...' He continued to prod fruitlessly at the barrier, and after some time dropped his arms to his sides entirely. 'Some sort of one-way barrier? Doesn't make any sense... What's the point of that?' Admittedly, he barely knew anything about Otherworld barring the check-in station and the torturously long path he had been glued to for the past few months, but from what he had seen so far, he found the realm to be pretty opaque. Nothing provided an easy answer to the question, "Why?". And now he couldn't fly up? He definitely preferred the version of the afterlife they had taught to him at the Olin Temple- he had always been a big fan of the idea of karmic reincarnation.
Krillin suddenly became aware that he was tired- he had spent a lot of energy slowing himself down and hovering in the air for the past few minutes. The scenery below him looked anything but inviting, but if he couldn't go up, what other option did he have? Soon enough he was dropping again in the sky.
The first landmark that revealed itself to him was a huge lake of red. Blood red. Krillin's face shriveled up like a dry sponge. Ah. I think I'm starting to see the bigger picture now.
His ki sense was unsettled- as he descended, things felt weirder and weirder to him, as if the whole place was off in some intangible way. Eventually he was forced to suppress his ki entirely in an attempt to buttress himself against the roiling waves of discomfort. Doing so helped, though it didn't fully rid himself of this sensation. If I had to bet… this must be hell...
He sliced through the low lying clouds obscuring the ground- he quickly recognized these puffs as fog as soon as he entered them. The air around him was humid, cloying, seeking to reach into his lungs and infect him with whatever nastiness was in it. But it wasn't just the physical air- Krillin felt his entire being be repulsed by where he found himself, shrinking away from any sort of interaction with this part of the Otherworld. He knew he wasn't supposed to be here.
His feet tapped down on the ground; he found himself in a grey, craggy landscape, full of jagged and pointing stretches of… well, the shapes looked like they were made out of rock, anyway. Krillin decided it didn't really matter. He had to navigate this mess of a land and find out how to get out of here. Seeking to conserve his energy, he set out on foot down a relatively narrow path to his left.
He got maybe five feet before he tripped on a hidden pit in the path. Thrashing his arms wildly, Krillin toppled forward and rolled several feet down the slope of the hill he had landed on, just narrowly avoiding being skewered by any one of the shark-looking spikes. Unfortunately, his fortuitous rolling barrelled him straight into an occupied clearing.
Several angry-looking people whipped around and sized up Krillin, who was resting on his butt and rubbing the nascent bruises over his body. 'Hey!' one of the shorter ones said, jabbing a thick finger in Krillin's direction. 'What are you doing here?'
Still disoriented by his roll, Krillin limply titled his head to one side. 'Huh?'
Arms descended on Krillin and wrenched him off his feet. 'I'll ask one more time,' the shorter man now yelled into Krillin's face from just a few inches away. 'What are you doing here!?'
Krillin barely registered the spittle spattering over his face. He was much more consumed with studying the fuming face in front of him. The red hair and black eyepatch were unmistakable- this was the corpse of Commander Red with a yellow ring above his head come to life. A shiver jolted through Krillin's body.
He silence must have lasted longer than he thought because the next thing Krillin knew, he found himself being whisked away again. 'Get him out of my sight and towards the front!' the same voice from before hollered from behind Krillin. 'We need every human bastard out there fighting right now!' Someone at Krillin's side grunted and he felt his body be carried farther away from that ghost.
Because that's what he is to me, right? A ghost? I never knew Commander Red when I was alive. He's… a ghost.
I guess, until this halo above my head disappears, I'm a ghost too. Krillin glanced at the two men carrying him across a wider, more open space of the land. They also had halos. The same is true of them.
A dull pulse hit him, alerting him to a spike of energy in front of him. Lurching his head upright, Krillin nearly gasped when the sight of a battlefield assaulted his vision. Pure carnage raged in an amorphous line of bodies in front of him, full of humans clawing and kicking each other to the ground, though there was a distinct lack of fighters falling to the ground defeated. No… it was much too vague of a battle. The closer Krillin got to it, the less visually coherent it seemed. Didn't that happen at battles, though?
He spared a glance at the people gripping his arms- and found that he was alone in a wide-open field with his feet back on the ground. Disorientation sawed through his mind. Krillin looked back in the direction he had come but he saw no sign of Commander Red nor of the people he had been with. He was utterly alone in a blasted, empty wasteland.
His breathing quickened. What?...
0o0o0
'You see them, don't you?'
Two figures watched over the plain like unwilling guardians, unable to turn their attention to anything else. Very rarely would they see anything worth watching.
The one on the right rubbed their arms together. 'It can't be real.'
'It looks real.'
'He shouldn't be here.'
'And you know that for a fact?'
The figure rubbing their arms stopped, and in a long and drawn-out motion, began rubbing the front of their thighs. 'I should.'
'It sounds like you don't.'
'I wish I did.'
The figure on the left out a quiet chuckle. 'Well, here's your chance.'
'What do you mean?'
They gestured. 'Go on and ask him.'
0o0o0
Carrying two armfuls of groceries, Rayne laid a single free finger around the door handle, turned and twisted it, and used her body to push the door open. She stumbled into the large entrance hall that opened up into the Fire Mountain castle via the long, narrow hallways to her front and sides.
'Chi-Chi?' Rayne called out, her voice echoing slightly.
'In here,' a voice replied to Rayne's right. Adjusting her grip on the groceries, Rayne set off in that direction and swung herself into a small room. Seated on a couch chair, an exhausted-looking Chi-Chi looked on as Gohan, clad in a simple red shirt and diaper, scooted across the floor on his butt. A weak but genuine smile ran the length of her face.
Rayne nodded and strode over to a table where she set the groceries down. She then spun around and leaned on the fixture. 'He's growing up fast,' she commented, as she watched Gohan with the same type of adoration Chi-Chi had.
'He is,' Chi-Chi said wistfully. 'Soon enough he'll be walking and flying around, living a life of his own, and we'll be on the sidelines, saying the exact same things we're saying now, and-' Chi-Chi's line-of-thought stopped, and she turned and regarded Rayne with concern. 'It- it slipped my mind. You didn't need to get me those-'
Rayne held up a hand, silencing Chi-Chi. 'If anything was made clear to me recently, it's that I'm tougher than I give myself credit for. If I can subdue you in hand-to-hand combat, well…' her hand snaked down to her belly protectively, 'carrying groceries up a mountain won't do any harm. I've read that exercise while pregnant is pretty beneficial, actually.'
'Does this beneficial exercise include trying to keep a maniac from biting you?'
Rayne playfully frowned at Chi-Chi. 'You get what I mean.'
Chi-Chi smiled. 'I do.'
They let a calmness settle on the room, each one content to watch Gohan bumble around like only a toddler can. Rayne couldn't help but see that he was such a kind and loving kid- the type that any mother would be blessed to have. At times he did seem a little flighty and scared, evidenced when his face would draw into an anxious expression and he would twist his head around clumsily looking for her, but considering the circumstances, was this really a surprise? Not many children under the age of 1 have been involved in as many near-death experiences as he had. In some ways, it was a miracle that he was as normal as he was. Set him next to another toddler and he looked like any other kid who clamored to be with mamma. He was cute.
Watching Gohan was nice. Which made it a shame that Rayne had to move things along. The kid did have a tail, after all, among other things. 'Have you thought any more about what I said?' she asked, her eyes flitting to Chi-Chi. 'About the-'
'I agree about the tail,' Chi-Chi replied quickly without looking at her, indicating that she had been thinking on this topic before Rayne had prompted her. 'It should be removed. I'm not sure what I was thinking when he was first born- keeping that tail around for nearly a year was a dangerous thing to do. He most likely would have killed us if he had seen even a glimpse of the moon.'
Rayne let out a small sigh, releasing some of the tension that had been building up inside her the past few minutes. 'I'm glad to hear that. And as for the second question?'
Silently, Chi-Chi turned to Rayne, made eye-contact, and returned her gaze to Gohan. 'I'm undecided.'
'Do you mind if I ask why?'
Chi-Chi gave a sigh of her own. 'My thinking on this is complicated. Hard to describe. It's like trying to put to words a giant tangle of feelings and thoughts. Like trying to make it real.'
'Well, preemptively excuse me for saying this,' Rayne said in a more serious tone, 'but I would appreciate if you shared whatever's going on in your head with me. This is important, Chi-Chi. Gohan has a lot of latent power. At every opportunity for him to show it, even though he's not even a year old, mind you, he's proven himself to be undeniably strong. If he's given the right guidance, he could become the strongest of us one day.'
As this sentence lingered in the air, Gohan scooted backward right into the side of Chi-Chi's couch, and surprisingly, he didn't seem fazed by the impact at all; he simply spun around and started scooting backward in the direction he had come from. 'This isn't about his strength,' Chi-Chi replied as her eyes traced Gohan's past and future path along the floor. 'It's never been about his strength.'
Rayne crossed her arms. 'I don't think we'd be having this conversation if Gohan wasn't as mind-bogglingly strong as he is.'
'You-' Chi-Chi shook her head, 'You misunderstand. That's my fault for not being clear.' Chi-Chi physically turned in her seat so she could fully face Rayne, who adjusted the angle her body was laid against the table. 'It's not a question of whether he's strong enough to be trained, or whether he's strong enough that he must be trained. It's a question of whether I want to thrust this lifestyle on him.'
Rayne blinked, thrown off by this statement. She had a good idea of what Chi-Chi was referencing, but she asked all the same, 'What kind of lifestyle?'
'The lifestyle of a fighter,' Chi-Chi clarified. 'Someone who pours their every ounce of energy and willpower they have into training, who pushes themselves to surpass whatever goal rises before them, and ultimately, someone who sacrifices their own energy and blood to protect what they care about. It's dangerous to be a fighter. I mean, it's like... ' Chi-Chi trailed off, shuddered, and twisted her head away. 'I…'
'Like what?' Rayne asked gently.
'Like Krillin.'
'Oh.' Rayne slouched down, as if the words needed time to fully settle on her.
'I shouldn't have said that-'
'-No,' Rayne dismissively waved one hand, 'no, you're right. It's dangerous. I know that.' Rayne paused. 'Krillin knew that.'
Chi-Chi held her gaze with Rayne; she was sad and angry at herself for picking at her friend's fresh wound, but the words were spilling out of her now. 'I don't want to make Gohan into someone who lives and breathes by battles. That's not a good life. There's... more to it than that. I shouldn't be thrusting a world of fighting on someone who doesn't want that. And I know there's a chance that if I introduce him to this lifestyle now, it'll deprive him of choices of what he wants to do in the future. I'd be… hardcoding it into his life, in a way. His earliest memories won't be of falling asleep on his mother's lap, or of being bounced around on her mother's shoulders, or having... ' Chi-Chi's voice dropped off briefly, but then returned with a new rawness, '... or having a father that's around and loves him… I just want to protect him from all the harm out there.' Her hands were now reaching and snaking up and down her body in a desperate effort to keep herself from falling apart. 'I just want to keep him safe…'
For as long as Rayne had known Chi-Chi, she had never seen her come undone quite like this before. It was a strange juxtaposition to how they first met; it's hard to believe that the woman before her now had stumbled upon a dying girl in a forest and had patched her skull together, piece by piece. What Rayne saw before her eyes now didn't make that fact any less true, however.
'I understand,' Rayne said in a soothing voice. 'He's been through a lot. You've been through a lot. Not many mothers need to battle to the death just to keep your child safe. But you did. And you won.'
Chi-Chi looked exhausted by her own emotional outpouring; she murmured, 'I guess.'
Gohan continued to bumble around the room, blissfully unaware of the dampened mood within the room. Seemingly taking a breather from the conversation at hand, Chi-Chi slid her attention back to the constantly in motion toddler, though the glum expression on her face didn't change.
A legitimately wise thought popped into Rayne's head as her eyes lapsed into the same watching Chi-Chi was doing. She was, frankly, struck by how insightful it was. 'Chi-Chi,' Rayne spoke again, 'can I ask you a question?'
Chi-Chi shot a miserable look at Rayne. 'What?'
'Don't you enjoy training?'
A corner of Chi-Chi's mouth turned downwards. 'In a way. Otherwise, I wouldn't have competed as many times as I did at the World Martial Arts Tournament. I was always in it more for the social element, though- I enjoyed spending time with everyone. We were such a tight-knit little gang, dedicated to testing our limits and helping each other get there… I enjoyed that.'
'And you don't think Gohan would enjoy that?'
'He might,' Chi-Chi admitted. 'He might not. But going down that path, it's... ' She gripped her own head in her hands, '... it's dangerous, and I wouldn't be giving him a choice… oh...'
'Chi-Chi…' Rayne padded over and sat on the chair arm of the couch, and draped an arm over Chi-Chi's huddled body. 'You're Gohan's mom; that makes him one of the luckiest sons in the world. I don't know a single woman who's more dedicated, caring, and conscientious than you. Tell me this; have you thought about striking a balance? You like training- he might like training- but you can do other things with him.'
Chi-Chi rubbed at her eyes. 'What do you mean?'
'You can teach him anything! Show him whatever! Instruct him about everything! Don't you understand?' Rayne's voice was bordering on manic. 'This kid is a blank canvas waiting to be exposed to some of the best things this world can offer! Everything you and him love to do- tell me, Chi-Chi, do you have any doubt in yourself?'
'I-'
'Don't answer that,' Rayne quickly butted in. 'You don't. You know why? Because you're an incredible person. You were saving my life at the age of… what, 13? 14? Fighting off the world's terrors at 16, 17? You trained under the greatest martial artists in the world! And you still found the time to visit your Dad!'
'Rayne…' Chi-Chi tried to decouple herself from Rayne, who had become a mess of energetic gestures. 'You're starting to freak me out.'
'Alright, alright-' Rayne made an effort to physically calm herself down, '-here's my point. If there's a mother out there who can strike the balance in a kid's education between the mind and the body, it's you.' Rayne loosed a bright, pleasant laugh. 'You've got it all, Chi-Chi! Brains and brawn! Bulma can't claim the same!'
At this, Chi-Chi poked her head up, her eyes red and puffy but her mouth stretched into a smile. 'Yeah?'
'You're an incredible person. If you make his welfare your mission, Gohan would have one of the most blessed upbringings a kid could ever dream for. And, of course, you have a bunch of friends who would help you out in this endeavor.' Rayne chuckled nervously.' If I was in your shoes- and I soon will be- I'd know I'd like the help, too, of course…'
Chi-Chi gave Rayne a playfully suspicious look. 'From one mother to a soon-to-be one; are you just packaging advice for me that you've thought of for yourself?'
'Chi-Chi,' Rayne said slowly as he placed one hand on Chi-Chi's shoulder and one hand on her own chest, 'let me make the purpose of my rambling clear. For as long as I live, no harm will come to Gohan. Train him, educate him, but no matter what, I will make sure that the crazy chaos our planet gets wrapped up won't affect him. You have my word.'
Chi-Chi frowned. 'That's not your choice to make.'
'But I choose to make it mine regardless.'
'You sure about that? I could do the same for your kid.'
'I'd like to see you try.'
Chi-Chi laughed. 'Well, look what you've done,' she said, half-hiding her smile behind an arm that still dabbed at her eyes, 'you've made me laugh.'
Rayne gave a big, broad grin, and with one arm around Chi-Chi's neck, pulled her closer to her side. 'My scheme is revealed...'
0o0o0
The mess hall, hemmed in by stubby grey walls and filled to the brim with uncomfortable metal benches and tables, was a nightmare to navigate amidst the jostling and ill-tempered soldiers noisily chowing down on food. It was less of a line than it was a brawl which led towards the series of counters where food that was so bland, colorless, and tasteless that it might as well have been pureed cardboard was served on steaming trays. Tien had elbowed his way to the front, ignoring the stares of the alien soldiery around him, and had purposefully taken away two trays of food. They were unwieldy to carry through a crowd, but Tien soldiered on until he found an empty table in one corner of the room. Instinctually, he sat with his back against the wall; he always did prefer to be the one watching people rather than the other way around.
And so it was- his food untouched, Tien observed the other supposed soldiers of what he had come to know as the Planet Trade Organization, or PTO, go about their meals. If he was being honest, the fact that he was among soldiers didn't make a lot of sense to him. What did a trade organization need a standing army for? To fight people who didn't trade with them? Why instead wasn't he surrounded by traders? Diplomats? This whole place reeked of militarism. Tien could see it in the ways the technicians and other support staff avoided him, who were too scared to talk to him to even dare to look in his general direction. He could see it in how the soldiers presented themselves. Among each other, they made no attempts to censor their own violent and brutish nature. Spats between different soldiers seemed to be never-ending- one would end and another would soon take its place within the cramped mess hall. Fists acted like sheathed guns, ready to be unleashed at the slightest twitch. All this contributed to a remarkably violent work environment.
Concertedly, Tien patted the armor he now wore that made him indistinguishable on its chest plate- a dull vibration traveled through the piece, a testament to the inertia dampening technology that had been used to create such a battle-ready piece of armor. He hated it all the same. But perhaps this armor would help him survive a few more hits, absorb a few more blasts in combat. That was as good as much a reason to keep it around- or at least a good enough reason to not disrobe and blast the thing into smithereens immediately. The scouter was a different issue entirely. Because he could sense energy, it had no purpose to him except for serving as a chain to his Saiyan superiors while working a mission. At least he had been able to refuse to wear it while at base.
His attention was inevitably drawn to the other soldiers wearing more-or-less the same armor as him. The chest plates seemed to differ from person to person- Tien saw black and brown ones, as well as white ones identical to his own- but every other part of their uniforms, from the white gloves and tan pointed tips of white boots to the black jumpsuits, were identical to his own. They were, as individuals, made to be identical. Even though the Crane school had employed the same types of standardized clothing among its students, there was something more to his old school's practice- it was motivated by pride, not by utility. Displaying the Crane symbol on his clothing was a message to the world about his dedication and commitment to the martial arts. Tien suspected the armor he wore now sent an entirely different message. But, in other regards, the life of a soldier was very similar to the life of a martial arts student in a dojo. He was accustomed to becoming a face in a crowd again, someone worth no more than a glance and a scowl. His parallel training to become an assassin had stressed this- anonymity and inconspicuousness were some of the only elements of his work that he could control. For soldiers, these traits didn't make them better soldiers per se, but they went a long way towards making them better tools to their commanders.
That concept unsettled Tien more than anything else than this experience. If the soldiers before him represented what the PTO curtailed, what did that say about the people handing down orders?
Tien must have appeared particularly spaced because before he knew it, a fist slammed down on the table in front of him, startling him out of his thoughts. Hovering over his table, a smug-looking, purple-skinned alien flanked by similar looking cronies gave him a toothy smile. 'You're new around here, aren't you?'
Tien had spent enough time in a hostile martial arts dojo to immediately recognize what this alien was doing; this person was trying to get a scare out of the new guy. Calmly, Tien stood, all the while maintaining eye contact with the would-be thug. With some satisfaction, he noted that he was taller than any of the three. 'I am.'
There was a brief facial twitch from the lead alien, but his crafted demeanor did not break. 'I thought so,' he said pleasantly. 'It's pretty rare to see some new faces around here, and I've never seen someone like your kind before. Me and my boys here were wondering what hole you crawled out of.'
'None of your business,' Tien replied gruffly.
The purple alien spread his hands wide in an appeasing gesture. 'Not true! We're all refugees of a sort- otherwise, we wouldn't be here on this far-flung outpost where the old and pestering waste away. Commonalities exist between us. C'mon,' the alien cooed, sliding closer to Tien, 'surely you must have crossed someone you shouldn't have, or maybe you're some kind of prisoner, someone who escaped the purge of their own planet-'
'I'm no-one,' Tien bit back. 'And I intend to keep it that way.'
A corner of the alien's mouth twitched. 'You're being difficult, aren't you!' he said through forced laughter. 'Come now; my friends and I only want to help you- sitting alone in this corner is as clear a signal that you need some. Contracts are tough to come by and even tougher to complete. Working together, I'm sure it would help us both-'
'Bez,' a hand clamped down on the purple alien's shoulder, causing him to immediately clench up and suppress a twinge of fear running brazenly across his face. 'You shouldn't be harassing my people.' Tien hadn't seen the Saiyan until the last second- he thought this was more due to the crowd-like nature of the mess hall than to anything else. Nappa leaned in more, such that his head loomed over Bez's shoulder like a bull. 'But you weren't doing that, were you?'
Bez shocked Tien by laughing, a nervous and anxious thing that died as quick as it left his mouth. 'You know me, Nappa! I just like to play around with the new guys, that's all!'
'Go play with some other new guys,' Nappa growled. 'These ones work for me.'
Nappa's hostility seemed to be a bit overkill- Bez was already physically distancing himself before the shift in Nappa's tone took place. But whereas before Bez appeared nervous, he now looked to be downright terrified. 'Of course! How could I be so silly!' Bez practically slobbered. 'This guy is strong- real strong- of course he would work for you! You're-'
'Beat it' Nappa grunted.
Bez and his buddies shook their heads quickly, apparently relieved that nothing more was said or done to them. Without a word, they spun around and hurried away from the table.
Nappa watched the gaggle of purple-skinned aliens quickly recede into the crowd around them before turning to Tien. 'Don't talk to them again,' he said flatly.
Tien furrowed his brow. 'Because they're miserably trying to intimidate me?'
'Because they're Qoolians,' Nappa growled. 'And they're a pain in the ass for any other race that has to work with them. You didn't tell them about your upcoming assignment, did you?'
'I didn't.'
'Keep it that way.' Nappa glanced around again, and then dipped his head and whispered, 'No-one here is your friend. Remember that.'
Considering from whom this advice was coming from, Tien appreciated the irony. 'I have.'
Nappa eyed Tien for an instant, his mind working out what exactly Tien's words might have meant, but he apparently had better things to think about. 'You and your buddy better eat quick.' Nappa said, staring at the two untouched trays of food on the table. 'I expect you to be on your way to LPT094 within the hour.'
'Worrying about us, are you?'
Nappa gave a dismissive wave of his hand. 'You can be cute when you want to, Earthling,' Nappa said dryly.
'Tien.'
With another dismissive wave of his hand, Nappa turned and started to walk away. 'Whatever. Just stick to the schedule.' The saiyan gradually melted into the crowd and left Tien alone once more.
Tien spent another half hour alone. After another ten minutes, he sighed, spooned the cardboard puree into his mouth as quickly as possible, and exited the mess hall with irritation exuding from his every step. Screw Yamcha- he would go to that planet alone if he needed to.
0o0o0
Bulma had very quickly learned that she hated being interred in a hospital bed. There was nothing productive about her life- she couldn't reach or rise without assistance, nor could she casually grab a phone or a laptop and keep her mind busy (not that they would have those things here)- and this lack of activity was causing her a lot of stress. She wasn't used to being so… inert. She even had to rely on machinery to fulfill her basic bodily functions; every time the cold fingers of the plastic bag strapped to her leg brushed against her consciousness, she had to repress an urge to scream. That last fact of her situation irked her considerably. Did no one on this backwater planet have the decency to help her to the bathroom?
That had been the first horrible week. In the second week, things became better as soon as she could stand and walk for a few seconds at a time. She could wobble over to a toilet situated in the far corner of the room, do her business, and then collapse back into bed. Piece by piece, she was gaining her independence back. That was something to be happy about.
But her visitors were few and far between. No-one seemed to care about a random person stuck with gravitational adjustment sickness, or whatever long string of words were said to her- her condition was either seen as too normal or too boring for any of the base's regulars to pay her a visit. Not that Bulma was complaining. A lot of the people at this base seemed like musclebound thugs, or in other words, people she didn't want to associate with. She was made sadder by the fact that not many of the technical staff visited her either. She had no idea what Vegeta had said to them when Tien, Yamcha, and herself had accepted his offer to work for him, but if they were informed about her status as a scientist, they didn't seem to care. Very rarely would anyone examine the machinery and vitals situated around her bed, and when such people did come, they made it a point to not talk to Bulma. She had to wonder whether there was some sort of quarantine put in place around her- perhaps they thought she was sick in some regard?
Regardless, she missed having someone to talk to. During her infernal entombment within this bed, she had become saliently aware that she was an alien trapped on a foreign world, who was in turn trapped within a bed. The isolation was distressing- back on Earth, she had always been sure to either keep herself surrounded by friends or a lab full of experimental prototypes that need fixin'. Here, she had neither. Tien and Yamcha rarely had the time to visit her, and even when they were present, they were either utterly tired from whatever training they were doing or were frustratingly untalkative. She hadn't expected anything different from Tien, but Yamcha's newfound reluctance to speak hurt. She felt like she was losing her connection with him, drip by drip, the longer they were stranded here. On the occasions when he would come alone, and his expression was as alien as any other stranger that would come into her room and ignore her, she could barely recognize him.
With companions like these, Bulma even would have enjoyed that short saiyan, Vegeta, coming back to her bedside to chat. Which is not to say they would have a pleasant conversation, but at least it would be spirited. Something to get her mind churning.
It was nearing the end of week two of her residence when, amazingly, someone spoke to her. An old human-looking man with pointed ears and a fringe of grey hair around the back of his head and his face came to Bulma's bedside slowly, but unlike the ones before whose gazes were focused on the wires and tubes feeding into her, his attention was fixed solely on her face. 'Hello there,' he said with the practiced manner of a doctor. 'How are you feeling?'
Bulma's eyes went wide in surprise, and her mind was caught on such a noteworthy event, but her mouth quickly answered for her. 'Alright. Could be better. I think I'm nearing the end of my stay in this bed, though.'
'Indeed you are. You're almost fully acclimated with this planet's gravity. Congratulations!' he said with undisguised admiration. 'You had one of the most severe cases of gravity sickness anyone at this outpost has ever seen. We were worried-'
'Let me guess-' Bulma cut him off, '-you thought I was carrying some sort of disease, right? Because my symptoms were so severe?'
'Why, yes.' One of his eyebrows raised. 'How'd you figure that?'
'I'm something of a scientist from where I'm from,' she said with a hint of pride in her voice. 'I kind of do it all.'
'Oh… well, good for you.' The interest in man's eyes began to fade. 'Unless you have any other questions, I'll take my leave. I should continue with my rounds…'
It took a split-second for Bulma to realized that the only engaging and pleasant conversation partner she had had in the past two weeks was leaving. Hold on. The man was halfway out of the room when Bulma cleared her throat. 'Hey, could you… actually stick around for a little bit?'
'Hmm?' He turned; there was a confused expression on his face. 'What for?'
'Well, I have some questions,' Bulma confessed. 'This is a planet comprised of thousands upon thousands of things I've never seen nor understand. You're a literal alien to me. From one scientist to another, surely you understand my curiosity?'
The briefest flicker of expression broke across the old man's face, but was quickly suppressed before Bulma could make sense of it. 'I guess there's no harm if I stick around for a bit longer.' He moved back to the bed and sat down in the chair next to it- Bulma noticed how carefully he lowered himself into the chair and how tired he looked once he was seated. His at first impressive presentation now was mediated by exhaustion and age.
Bulma spent a moment sketching out the outline of the conversation she wanted to have, then asked, 'What's your name?'
'Planthorr.'
'And I assume you know my name.'
'Bulma, if I remember correctly.'
'You are correct. You're not a human, are you?'
'A what?'
'You look like someone who could be from my species- a human. Though, looking at you now…' Bulma's eyes were drawn to the man's pointy, almost elf-like ears. 'I'm not sure where I got that idea from.'
'You'd be surprised how many species in the galaxy resemble each other. The leading xenobiologists theorize that sentient galactic life develops along roughly two or three tracks that are highly similar between different species.'
'Fascinating… that's… wow.' Bulma would have to make a few calls when she got back to Earth. Or tell her Dad, at least. 'Can I ask another question?'
'Go ahead.'
'How are we speaking right now?'
The old man raised an eyebrow. 'Are we not speaking the same language right now? Are we not speaking galactic common?'
'But… this is the language of my planet, my people, and we've never interacted with anyone not from our planet until very recently.'
A hint of mischief flickered across the old man's face. 'A common language would seem counterintuitive, wouldn't it? You just stumbled upon one of the greatest galactic mysteries- the commonalities between languages that evolved on separate planets and had never interacted with each other are astoundingly high across the galaxy. There's usually one or two tracks of language that, within each one, contain a number of extremely similar languages.'
'So it's like the xenobiologist theories? There's an astounding amount of overlap and uniformity?'
'Exactly. Some religions claim these similarities could only be the result of divine intervention- but, as another person of science, you can understand my objection to that idea.'
'Yes… but… wow.' Bulma was dumbstruck. How was it possible that such radical similarities exist? She would have laughed at the idea if she wasn't having a conversation with a literal alien.
'I can see you'll need some time to take this in.'
'You seem much nicer than the others,' Bulma said abruptly.
'Hmm?'
'None of the other doctors of technicians cycling through didn't so much as look at me. You're the first person to show me some genuine compassion. I want you to know that I'm grateful.'
'Oh, well,' Planthorr said, smiling, 'I have to be nice considering my role here.' The old man gestured to a crude patch sewn into a white garment that ran down and covered his body from his shoulders down. It was red and blue, and shaped like a "V". 'Doctors don't get the luxury of being mean to their patients within the PTO, unless they have a death wish.'
'PTO?'
'Planet Trade Organization. Basically the organization that runs this station and most of the known galaxy.'
'Ah.' Bulma paused. 'Last question,' she said, eyeing the man's tapping foot, 'because I see that you've got places to be.'
'Right again you are,' Planthorr replied, chuckling. 'What's your question?'
'The name of this planet is FP083, right?'
'That's right.'
'What does that stand for?'
'Frieza Planet Zero-Eight-Three.'
'And who's Frieza?'
Planthorr snorted. 'Someone we mortals need not concern ourselves with. Not on a planet this far out, anyway…'
'What do you mean?'
But the man was already standing. 'I'll come by tomorrow. Until then, continue to relax. Spend some time walking around every day, but don't push yourself too hard, too fast. Gradually lengthen the time you spend standing and walking around. Do that, and you'll be walking around as well as me before you know it. Hah!'
As Bulma watched the old man stride across and out of the room, and laugh to himself at his parting joke, she noted with a pinch of frustration that Planthorr had ended up being as difficult as every other person that she had talked to the past few weeks.
She had to know what she was up against if they were going to escape from this place and make it to Namek. At this very moment, Tien and Yamcha were on their way to wage war on a distant alien planet, and if she didn't start digging soon, she would run out of time to construct an escape plan that didn't get them killed.
She needed to be on her feet. After a moment of preparation, Bulma swung her torso up and nearly fell onto her knees. She caught herself, however, and then, one-by-one, swung her legs off the bed to the side. If other people won't tell me what I want to hear, I'll figure it out myself!
0o0o0
Tien was halfway up the steps to the landing pad where his and Yamcha's ships awaited when he glimpsed a familiar mane of hair sticking up near one of the pods. 'Yamcha?' he called out as his feet finished ascending.
The hair spun, and Tien was face-to-face with Yamcha clad in similar white-and-tan armor to his own. 'Yeah?'
'Are you okay?' Tien immediately asked, forceful concern bleeding through his voice. 'We were supposed to meet in the mess hall before coming here.'
'I wasn't hungry.'
'So you didn't come at all? Did you even eat?'
Yamcha narrowed his eyes at Tien and placed a hand on the pod next to him. 'Are you ready to go or not?' he asked, seemingly uncaring about Tien's previous questions.
'What were you doing before you came here?'
Tien's tone was undeniably suspicious- he hated how conspicuous he was with his intentions sometimes. Yamcha rolled his eyes at him. 'What, are you my mom?'
'I'm the only friend that can back you up in a fight,' Tien growled. The sentence came off much more antagonistic than it should have. 'And if you're running around endangering yourself, then I can't-'
'Don't get worked up into a knot,' Yamcha said brusquely. 'You had your own preparations for what we're about to do, and I had mine.' He gestured to the pod in between himself and Tien. 'Shall we?'
'It's been a few weeks,' Tien stated, as if he was reminding himself of that fact as well. 'You can't keep ignoring me forever. Eventually, you're going to be forced to talk to me.'
'Are you done?' Yamcha said, glaring at him. 'We have a job to do, don't we?' He stood and motioned Tien to do the same. 'Let's get it out of the way.'
Tien spent a moment staring into the scarred human's eyes, searching for something to suggest that there was something still left of Yamcha that cared about his own wellbeing. He failed in that, and thus he entered his pod without protest.
A short time later, both pods rose gently from the ground, rotated in mid-air, and then blasted off into the sky.
0o0o0
Backpedaling, Krillin nearly tripped and fell over some feature of the ground, but he regained his balance and hopped backward just before tumbling. The fog was pressing down on him from every direction now, choking his sight of anything beyond five feet in any direction. He was fumbling around with his hands and feet in the strongest sense of the world now- his ki sense had stopped working entirely, like the fog around him was both physical and spiritual. But that couldn't be the case, right? That's not how fog worked.
These questions seemed increasingly irrelevant as the space around him began to shift. Swathes of gray were beginning to form vague outlines of people of various shapes and sizes, but all except one remained ephemeral- out of the center, a short man with an eyepatch and a cigar parted through the smoke. 'My troops were looking for you,' he said in a gravelly voice. 'You ran off for a bit there, but we found you again.' His expression twisted into a pure knot of anger. 'Do you know how long I've been searching for you? You and your friends have caused me an unprecedented amount of stress. I've doubled the number of cigars I smoke in a day thanks to you!' He stepped closer, waving the lit cigar with his right hand. 'And now I have you right where I want you! You're alone! Defenseless! My boys will riddle you with more bullets than a wall facing a firing squad!'
It was surreal; Krillin felt like he was a kid again, running around fighting the big bad Red Ribbon Army. But he knew that time had passed, and that the person in front of him didn't scare him. He said as much.
'What?' Commander Red blanked. 'You… oh…' And just like that, Commander Red began to fade away into the background, as every inch of him untied and scattered back into the fog around Krillin. In more normal circumstances this would have shocked him, but throughout his traipse through the fog-induced confusion, Krillin hadn't forgotten that he was in hell. Things would be weird as long as he was here. Which reminds me; how exactly do I get out of there? As far as he knew, he couldn't fly out, which meant he had to find something down here that would help him escape. But this was hell- it was tough to stick to a single path and, so far, Krillin had been led astray and confuddled by the miasma of fog dogging his every move.
As Krillin set off a direction and trudged further, the fog began to part and shift again. Like before, a figure emerged from it, but this time their gait was different- it was buoyed by contained power. Thus, Krillin was not surprised when King Piccolo emerged before him, though there was something decidedly off about him.
'You don't look like how I remember you,' Krillin said softly. 'You're different.'
A vein bulged on King Piccolo's head. 'But you're still the impudent whelp I crushed beneath my feet all those years ago. You still have that dumb expression painted all across your face-'
'This isn't real. You're not whole,' Krillin said calmly. He stepped closer, which caused King Piccolo to flinch.
'Wait!... Stop!...' King Piccolo pleaded, as his feet were seemingly rooted in place. 'Don't… please... ' His protests faded away as Krillin's hand slid into his body like it was water. King Piccolo's image briefly wavered before falling apart entirely as every brick of his figure crumbled into smoke. The fog quickly rushed in to fill the space where the demon had been.
Exhaling, Krillin withdrew his hand. He was starting to understand what was going on- the place was playing on his mind. These people weren't really here- he was being tricked somehow. I am… I… wait... There was a sound reverberating through the fog. A voice?
He twisted and turned, searching. 'Hello?' On cue, like a ship parting through the fog, a familiar figure strode into Krillin's vision. Their spiky black hair was as dead a giveaway as any. 'Kakarot?'
The Saiyan looked identical to the last time Krillin had seen him, minus the grievous injuries and wounds. His gaze was fixed on him. 'So it really is you. I'm surprised...'
Krillin immediately got a different vibe from Kakarot that he had gotten from the other illusions… no, that's exactly it… he's not like the others.
'You killed me,' Krillin blurted out. 'You saved Raditz's life.'
Weirdly enough, Kakarot didn't react to this statement at all except for extending a hand. 'I can get you out of here.'
'But you're not real.'
'And you shouldn't be here-'
But his words were cut off as a booming sound reached them, cutting through the fog between them and thrusting both of them backward. When the chaos settled, Krillin found himself gazing up at a human man, dressed in an unending stretch of purple fabric that clothed him from his neck to his feet. Their hair was black and silky, and black sunglasses rested on the tip of his nose.
A hand clasped Krillin's. He saw the man flash an eerily familiar grin. 'It'll just be like old times, huh?' He joked as Krillin felt his feet lift off of the ground. 'Just like old times…'
0o0o0
Piccolo had just managed to prop himself up on his elbows when a sudden shockwave rumbled through the ground, disrupting his balance and shaking him back to the ground face-first. Growling, he propped his head up once again and glimpsed the origin of the quake- the human from earlier was back and was cradling Krillin with both arms. Damn it! Damn them both!
The human let Krillin out of his arms- and, immediately, Krillin fell to the ground and came to rest in a similar splayed out position to Piccolo. It seems that he wasn't the only one being affected by this planet's gravity- still irked him that the human with black hair and North Kai handled it so effortless, though. The universe loves to spit in my face-
'Hey,' Krillin's choked voice called from Piccolo's right. 'Why are we being flattened to the ground like pancakes right now?'
'Wouldn't you like to know!' Piccolo barked. 'I wouldn't-'
'This planet has ten times the gravity of Earth,' North Kai said lazily. He hadn't bothered to move from his lawn chair since Piccolo or Krillin had arrived.
As the human man strolled back to his own lawn chair, North Kai's eyes flickered over to him. 'You should have seen- err-' North Kai sputtered. 'That's right.' North Kai abruptly reached for his drink and effected a long, noisy slurp.
The other man sat down and leaned back in the chair. 'I was quite the mess when I first got here, too. In his many years of fighting, never before had Kevin Woo encountered such a daunting physical challenge.'
'Who's Kevin Woo?' Krillin inquired.
'Myself.'
'Did you just talk about yourself in the third person?' Piccolo snarled.
'Yes.'
Another loud slurp punctuated the conversation. 'I'm glad we've gotten introductions out of the way,' North Kai spoke up, setting the drink down on the arm of his lawn chair and standing. 'But you two are here to train, right?'
Krillin and Piccolo both nodded as best they could from the position their heads were in.
'Then stand up,' North Kai said.
'Are you kidding?' Krillin replied in disbelief. 'I can barely move right now!'
'You may feel that way, but I can assure you that you can. This one here,' North Kai jabbed a thumb at Kevin Woo in the chair behind him, 'was able to stand after some effort on the same day he arrived here. And both of you are stronger than he was then. Stand.'
North Kai made it sound so easy. Like overcoming an oppressive force was as easy as willing it. For Piccolo, it wasn't a question of how much he wanted to get stronger- if he didn't have the power to get up, then… Wait…
Piccolo half-turned his head to the right. Amazingly, Krillin had shakily pulled himself onto his hands and knees, and was panting from the effort, but his expression was nothing but resolve- daring resolve that was thrown in Piccolo's direction by the human's focused gaze. The challenge was clear- he would stand before him.
Indignation bubbled up in Piccolo. WIth a drawn-out grunt, Piccolo pulled himself to his hands and knees, glimpsed that Krillin was now moving into a crouch, and quickly mimicked him. Over the space of seconds, the two of them raced to a standing position, each one clamoring to be the first one to do so. It was ungraceful, ugly, and undeniably hard- but the pure effort needed to do this radiated off of them.
Tucked away behind North Kai, Kevin Woo could only watch on with pride. Not that I'd tell them it took me a literal day to stand, though...
It took some time but eventually both were fully off the ground. The two of them traded surprised glances with each other.
'Ahem,' King Kai cleared his throat. 'If you two are ready, we can begin.'
There was a clear physical toll exacted from both Krillin and Piccolo to remain standing, not to mention the discomfort each felt from being near the other, but they both continued to hold their heads high. This was what they were building towards, the reason for why they had taken step after excruciating step towards a place they weren't even sure existed. They both had their differing motivations for wanting to get stronger- but their resolve was unimpeachable. Nothing was going to get in their way- not even each other.
The two students glanced at each other, broke away, and bit into their cheeks. 'We're ready, King Kai,' Krillin said steadily.
The ghost of a smile graced King Kai's face. 'Glad to hear it. Now then- tell me a joke.'
A/N: Things are happening! Wowie! I'm super sorry for the weeks-long delay, but I needed to finish up some academic work/ figure out some story details moving forward/ recover from more sickness. Still as committed as ever to this story!
And we blasted past 100 follows! Holy freakin' moley! That's a lot of people! Thank you all so much! If I could suggest an additional action, leave a review! I'm pushing forward a lot of non-canon things in this story and I'd like some feedback on what you, the READER, likes and doesn't like. With that, here are the reviews and see you next week!
Reviews:
Transformers g1's-Prime: Something of the sort you imagined. I tried to keep things pretty vague about what was going on in Hell.
Thank you! Sorry this chapter took so long!
Anonymous:
Q: I don't understand how Vegeta and nappa caught up with the earthlings
Their ship was as fast as the saiyans maybe faste seeing as they reached name before Vegeta did despite Vegeta having a head start(barely spent a day in regeneration chamber) and stealing the newest model they beat him to namek
here they are in their old model, so they shouldn't have had any hope of catching up
A: *rubs hands*. I was waiting for someone to ask this question.
Alright, so we know from the manga that it took a month for Kami's ship to take Bulma, Gohan, and Krillin to Namek. We also know that, using the Saiyans' ships as a template, Mr. Briefs was able to create a ship that took Goku to Namek in one week. This would imply, barring any sort of amazing (and unlikely) technological innovation Mr. Briefs could have made in space aeronautics, we should assume that the ships the Saiyans use, and by extension all of Frieza's forces, are faster than Kami's ship. You could make the case that, because it took Nappa and Vegeta roughly a year to make it to Earth that their ships are relatively slow, but we have no idea how far away they were coming from and whether Kami's ship would have done the trip faster. However, because we do know that Kami's ship is slower based on the travel time to Namek, we can assume that any ship within the PTO's arsenal that was even roughly specialized to intercept ships would be fast enough to intercept Kami's ship. We also don't know how far the planet Vegeta recovered on was from Namek and Earth. It could be that the planet was very far away from both the Earth and Namek, and the reason Vegeta landed when he did was because his ship needed to make up a lot of space ground quickly.
If this explanation doesn't satisfy you, keep in mind that the Saiyans also knew exactly where Kami's ship had launched from and were tracking it from the moment it had entered space. I'd imagine that this makes Kami's ship much easier to intercept.
