Namek

Chapter 52: The Fleeing and Forsaken


The adrenaline needed time to wear off- they were far too exuberant, jubilant, nervous to consider speaking, which would imply they would live longer than the new few minutes. Eventually, however, after their ship had remained undisturbed within interstellar space for some time, and Bulma had received no messages directed towards the ship, they all gave a collective sigh of relief. They had actually done it. They had escaped.

Bulma was glued to the pilot's seat for most of this, but when she heard the ship pulse and hiss into an automated destination for Namek, she swung her chair around ready to cheer.

She expected happy faces to be among her passengers; but Tien and Yamcha, while looking less frantic from before, hadn't lifted their heavy gazes from their purple companion, who gave them a neutral look in return. Bulma also felt something else; she wasn't wanted in whatever conversation was about to occur. Which was fine with her; frankly, she didn't have the emotional energy left for people she didn't care about and conflicts she wasn't intimately involved in. Besides; she had to get back in touch with everyone she had hung up on on Earth.

So with a simple press of a button, the door to the cockpit slid shut.

0o0o0

No sooner had the door closed did an awful silence descend on the back-end of the shuttle. Tien and Yamcha weren't going to willingly say anything to the person who had tried to murder them in cold, calculating blood- so it was Bez who acted first.

'Do you mind if I get comfortable?' He asked calmly.

An eyebrow raised itself on Tien's face. 'In what way?' he questioned.

'I hate this armor,' Bez remarked, patting his chest plate. 'Even though it's supposed to be "universal", it was always too big for my torso. So…' He began to strip himself of his plated armor- though he did not touch his black jumpsuit underneath- and as he sat and began to pull off his boots, Tien and Yamcha got the first full glimpse of their would-be murderer. On top of being purple-skinned and bald, it was apparent now that Bez was lithe and tall, reminding Tien a little of his childhood hero Mercenary Tao, and his face was angular but smooth, like a well-worked slab of stone. In all other regards, he struck Tien and Yamcha as very humanoid.

When his armor was gathered together in a pile at his feet, Bez focused his attention back on them. 'Considering our past history,' he began tentatively, 'I'm going to assume that neither of you particularly care about me, or even worse, suspect me of some ulterior motive in helping you and your friend escape. So for the sake of ensuring I survive this- hopefully brief- period of time we seem likely to spend in each other's company, I'm going to be perfectly honest with the two of you. Alright?'

The physical uncomfortableness that Tien and Yamcha felt around Bez didn't change in the slightest, though Tien's gaze shifted to an incrementally more considerate one. 'Go ahead,' he said.

Bez nodded. 'After I woke up in the rejuvenation tank, I realized that I had been spared, and even more bizarrely, had been brought back to base to be healed. At first, I didn't know what to make of this. The last time that-' Bez gave a pained expression. 'It had been a very long time since anyone else had done anything good for me. I was torn- one side of me wanted to keep my distance from you two, because I couldn't understand why or what you two had done, and one side of me wanted to hurt you.'

A long pause filled the room. 'I've never considered myself prideful,' Bez admitted, 'but there was something… something that enraged me about what had happened. Sure, I lived, but I also knew that the two allies I had always fought alongside, Yaz and Reso, the only other people I knew who had escaped my homeworld alive, were no longer at my side, and were dead. I knew you two had killed them but had spared me. And I didn't know what to make of that. So I was stuck between thankfulness and rage. I followed you two around, and I found out you two had another human friend at base. And today, when I set out after her, not knowing what I'd do to her if I found myself alone with her, I saw Nappa take her and chain her to this shuttle.'

'A lot of thoughts went through my mind then,' Bez said, his voice as distant as the ruins of a base they were quickly moving farther away from. 'And, still, I didn't know what I would have done if the Saiyans hadn't started to rip through the base soon after. But at that moment, my survival instincts kicked in, and I began to search for a ship to leave with- but everything else that could fly except the shuttle your friend was chained in was either gone, missing, or destroyed.'

'And then I made the choice that, if I found you two, I would escape with you and your friend. And, to be honest, I don't know why I didn't just leave on the shuttle by forcing your friend to pilot me off the planet.' Bez seemed like he has something more to say, but he simply sighed.

'So that's the long and short of it. I knew where your friend was, and I figured the chance of you two killing me after already having spared me once were low, so I threw my lot in with you. That's it. I don't expect to be with you two very long, nor do I expect you two to like me for what I did. It would be best for all of us if you could drop me off at the first planet we come across that's connected to the interstellar travel routes. I'd be fine with that; that's all I ask.'

The room was motionless for some time after that, as it was clear that Bez's audience needed a moment to process what he had said. Then, Tien stood, followed soon after by Yamcha. 'We're going to talk about what you told us with our friend,' Tien informed Bez. 'And then we'll decide what to do with you.'

Bez, hanging his head, gave a weak nod.

0o0o0

It took Tien and Yamcha some time for them to catch-up Bulma on everything Bez had said- they needed to say a bit more about what had happened on their mission than they had revealed previously for her to understand fully- and at the end of their explanation, she leaned back in the pilot's chair, her eyes glued to Yamcha. 'You… killed two of Bez's race, Yamcha? Two people who had survived a genocide?'

Her gaze pierced him- it was so raw, searching, that he could barely contain his own shame. It had been one thing to explain this to Tien and shrug off someone who could be cold, distant- but Bulma was never anything but personable and direct, and even if she hadn't wanted to make her own profound disappointment clear, it was written plainly across her face. The last few months had been too much- since Krillin's death, and all the horrible things that had transpired since- and at that moment, something cracked in Yamcha.

From a sitting position, Yamcha brought his head into his hands, like an old statue holding up a weight far too heavy to hold forever, and for the first time Tien saw the scarred human cry, exhaling in soft, ragged sobs and struggling to keep the tears from spilling out from his hands. It was ugly, bitter, and suddenly, Tien realized how horrible a friend he had been to Yamcha when this was what had been lurking underneath his troubled and uncooperative exterior.

There wasn't much Tien or Bulma could do but throw their arms around him and, like two ropes anchoring a boat to a dock, hold him close to solid ground.

0o0o0

Some time later, when Yamcha had spent himself and wandered mutely back to the back- thankfully, there was another room in the shuttle that he could go in that didn't have Bez in it- Bulma sat back in the pilot's chair, with Tien leaning wearily against a side wall of the cockpit.

Seemingly reading Tien's mind, Bulma spoke up: 'Do you trust him? Bez, that is.'

'No,' Tien said bluntly, 'but we're stronger than him. And I doubt he would try to sabotage the ship he's currently on.'

'And there's no chance he betrays us?'

'He hates the PTO as much as us. Not a chance.'

'Then I don't see the harm in keeping him.' Bulma said, before wrinkling her nose and continuing, 'actually, we shouldn't even let him go.'

Tien gave her a look. 'What?'

Swiveling in her chair, Bulma turned to him. 'We're in a race against time and the Saiyans now, Tien. It's likely that Vegeta and Nappa are either following us to Namek, or are on their way to Earth. We can't stop at a planet to drop off Bez- we'd waste time we can't afford to lose.'

'Bulma,' Tien said severely, 'bringing Bez to Namek, where he can learn about the Dragonballs and possibly ruin our plan, is a horrible idea.'

'Didn't you say that you and Yamcha are stronger than him? That you could easily take him on and defeat him?'

Tien made a face. 'We both know how Yamcha is right now-'

'I'm the pilot,' Bulma interrupted him, stating it as a fact. 'So I'm telling you right now- I'm not stopping this ship to drop him off. If I understand the basic specifications of this shuttle and intergalactic coordinates as well as I think I do, we should arrive at Namek in about a week,' Bulma told him, though there was an undercurrent of uncertainty that lined her statement, as if she didn't expect things to go as well as she described it. 'So can you handle Bez for a week? And then… maybe the Namekians will help keep an eye on him. Be hopeful.'

Tien had his doubts, and reflected to himself that being optimistic had never gotten him anywhere in the past, but for Bulma's sake, he remained silent.

0o0o0

Nappa had staked out a desolate part of the ship, near the hanger for small, single-person pods, and was beginning to grow bored when the sound of footsteps echoing farther into the ship reached him. He listened closely to the sound of the person's gait, and after a handful of seconds stood at attention for the approaching figure. Soon after this, Vegeta rounded the corner. Nappa immediately laid his arm diagonally across his chest. 'My Prince.'

'At ease, Nappa,' Vegeta said. 'You are prepared to leave, correct?'

'I am.'

'Good. Now that Frieza has the tracker in his hands, he has accepted my report and has granted us permission to go. The sooner we are off this ship, the better.' Vegeta then walked past Nappa and gestured for him to follow.

Nappa hesitated, however, and quickly asked, 'But if we can't track them… how are we going after them, then?'

Vegeta halted, and turned to look at Nappa over his shoulder. 'After our failure at FP083, Frieza has forbidden us from pursuing them. He had elected to take the matter into his own control.' A small smile graced the Prince's face. 'He can't have unknown Saiyans rampaging through the galaxy. You see, as much as Frieza would claim otherwise, he is easily manipulated; he exposes his hatred and fear of us with his every breath, and would do anything to ensure that there are not more of us running around the galaxy untended to. And so he has proven himself a fool; he will focus his attention on our former associates, and leave us undisturbed once more.'

Nappa smiled at this, though it faded after a moment. 'Then we're going… to the planet?' He tried to be ambiguous, aware that they were still on Frieza's ship.

Surprisingly, Vegeta seemed to consider this question, and after some time he fully faced Nappa. 'Do you remember that Saiyan we took into our group years ago, Nappa? The one with the dark skin?'

Nappa's eyes flickered, and he seemed to be accessing a memory long unused. 'The one who died,' he said. 'The one who died in training? Hah!' He bellowed a deep laugh. 'That one?'

'That one, yes,' Vegeta said, his eyes evidencing a mind deep in thought. 'Frieza said something strange to me during our meeting. He was making Zarbon recite all past sightings, real or claimed, of unregistered Saiyans within PTO space. One such sighting involved a dark-skinned man crash-landing on a PTO fringe outpost in the South Quadrant six years ago. I had known of this event since that time, and at first discounted it as a hoax, but Zarbon, unknowingly, revealed additional info to me about this man. He had a tail.'

Nappa's amusement now morphed into scorn. 'Zarbon lies. I saw that Saiyan die myself. He was obliterated when he was caught between two blasts.' Nappa grunted, and then said emphatically, 'He's dead.'

'But this sighting in the South Quadrant occurred after his apparent death,' Vegeta said in a cool voice. 'And, if I remember correctly, didn't you report that the pod he had traveled in was missing at mission's end?'

'I thought it was destroyed…' Nappa said, his jaw unnaturally loose. 'Do you think-'

Vegeta abruptly held up a finger to his lips, and glanced over the other Saiyan's shoulders. A roaming technician made eye contact with the Prince and was spooked back in the direction they had come in. 'Not here; not now,' Vegeta said again after they were alone again. 'You know the main North-South galactic route along the PTO military bases?'

Nappa nodded, and Vegeta went on, 'We'll talk of this more at the first stop. But know that I want to investigate this matter further.'

'So this is a detour?' Nappa said with a hint of frustration. 'I was ready to punish those vermin for everything they put us through.'

'Everything in good time, Nappa,' Vegeta assured him. He checked again that no-one was around, and then said, 'Their planet isn't going anywhere, nor is it known as something to note by anyone except us; they might suffer the occasional low-level soldier willing to travel to the edge of the galaxy, but no-one strong enough to utterly devastate them will be drawn to as lowly a contract as their planet awards. And while we could go there now, I would rather wait until I am sure every pest is in the nest, so to speak, to ensure that their destruction is wholesale. We shall give them time to return home, heal, and grow complacent, while we gather our strength. And when the time comes to rain down fire and death from the skies, and pit our full might against their own, we shall exact the price for their insolence and slaughter them without remorse. Does this suit you, Nappa?'

'It does, Vegeta.'

'Good,' Vegeta finished. 'Now then- we leave.'

0o0o0

Zarbon had maintained his role as Frieza's right hand only by paying close attention to his master's every cough, inhale, and twitch, and it is for this reason that he prayed Vegeta would stride out of his Lord's chamber before the entire ship was destroyed with a flare of a nostril. When the doors hissed closed behind the Saiyan, Zarbon turned to address his master, but Frieza's patience was unmanageably short.

'I cannot believe this!' he raged, though Zarbon knew that the true extent of his master's irateness could not be contained within the confines of their current system, and was thankful for Frieza's restraint. 'Saiyans running amok, destroying my bases and making a mockery of my army, across my Empire? Did I not take explicit steps nearly twenty years ago to prevent such a thing from happening!? Zarbon!'

The teal-skinned alien snapped to attention, pushing his chest out and pulling his head towards the ceiling. 'Yes, Lord?'

Frieza, seated in his enclosed hovering chair, looked about ready to crawl out of it and rip Zarbon limb-from-limb. 'Surely you must have more information about this that you did not share in the presence of that buffoon Vegeta! Because, otherwise, I do not understand how you have served at my side for so long!'

Zarbon swallowed, and said, 'My Lord, we both know that some Saiyans slipped through our grasp when Planet Vegeta was destroyed. Additionally, to this day there are unaccounted pods dispersed across the galaxy. The chances of any Saiyans living that we don't know of are, quite frankly, high-'

A sudden increase in the temperature of the room silenced Zarbon, and it only took a split-second of searching to determine what was the cause; hovering over the tip of one vertically extended finger, an incredibly small orb of ki danced next to Frieza, and was so heavily laden with energy that the hovering chair Frieza sat in had incrementally tipped down on the same side of the held attack. 'I don't care for excuses, Zarbon,' Frieza said in a horribly sharp voice. 'I care for results. And the fact that you did not foresee this attack happening bodes badly for you. Am I understood?'

Zarbon kneeled and plastered his gaze to the room's metal floor. 'Perfectly, Lord Frieza.' He did not dare glance up at Frieza to gauge his master's mood, and so he was frozen in terror for a time while the soft glow of the orb remained within the room. Eventually the glow faded, however, and Zarbon felt the room's temperature return to a more normal level.

'I am not mad at you Zarbon,' Frieza said in an oddly familiar voice. 'I am merely disappointed.' Zarbon looked up at Frieza then, and saw that the Emperor had let a neutral expression reign again on his face. 'I know you can do better- you have done better in the past. And, in light of this, I would like to put this ugly mistake behind you.'

There was pause which Zarbon interpreted as his cue to speak, and so he said, 'What do you have in mind, my Lord? In terms of putting this behind me, that is.'

'I'm glad you asked, Zarbon,' Frieza said in an oddly ceremonial way. 'As you're of no doubt aware, a gaggle of rogue Saiyans is frolicking across my domain without receiving an inch of resistance. Vegeta has been so kind as to give us a means of following them to their destination, which allows us to plan out the consequences for their brazen attack. Or, to be more accurate, you are to plan out the consequences,' he said, pointing at Zarbon. 'I want you to assemble the strongest force possible from our available resources and lead the charge against them yourself. I want them to suffer for their transgressions. And, once you have taught them how painful it is to violate my authority, I want them delivered to me alive so that I may enact their final punishment myself. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes, my Lord- though, do you mean every available-'

'Every. Available. Resource,' Frieza said in a dark voice. 'You are given my authority to pull any and all troops you deem fit for this mission. As you well know, Saiyans are an unmediated blight on the galaxy without a superior force to control them. These rogue Saiyans will decimate everything we've worked to accomplish if not eliminated with brute, overwhelming force. I don't even care if you pull soldiers far above your power level,' Frieza said with a dismissive wave of his hand. 'I want them to be defeated and subdued, even if you have to deploy soldiers ten times their own strength. I want no-one to escape what is owed of them.'

'...You've given me a lot to think on, Lord Frieza,' Zarbon said after a moment, his mind furious with thought.

'You have time to think,' Frieza said, 'they still seem to be a ways away from their destination; but the moment their ship lands, I want you to be en route, if not already in transit, to where they are. You have that long to prepare.'

Zarbon briskly stood. 'Then I shall not waste another second. Thank you for entrusting this task to me, Lord Frieza. I will not fail you.' He bowed, and then turned to go out the same doors Vegeta had left by.

Frieza watched Zarbon go, his eyes scrutinizing his form for any sort of tremor or shake, but seeing none, he rotated his chair to face the black expanse of space, soaked in the void, and smiled.

0o0o0

The connection with Bulma cut out abruptly and seemed to snap everyone at Capsule Corp. out of a daze; even Puar and Oolong had been caught by this spell and were amazed to find out how much time had passed since they had entered it- the voice of an old friend had a way of capturing your attention, though.

Launch beat her chest proudly. 'Bulma… she's such a crazy bastard,' she said warmly. 'No other person in the galaxy could have just done what she just did.'

'She was a bit braggy about it,' Rayne commented.

'But it's still impressive,' Chi-Chi said.

'True.'

No-one really knew what to do for some time- they hadn't expected Bulma to message them from across space and tell them: Hey, we don't really need help, you can stay at home! And quite a few of them had expected to be tumbling through space by now.

When Suno and Chiaotzu realized they weren't going on some dramatic rescue mission- Suno was more wedded to this characterization than Chiaotzu- they moved over to Launch, said a few words, and then told everyone they were going to go back to training. Rayne, Chi-Chi, Puar, and Oolong decided to leave together soon after, saying that they had a lot to catch up on (and a certain kid to meet). So it was Retu, left alone in a room that was far too big for one person, who was surprised when a door swung open and Mr. Briefs hurried in.

'I heard everything from the ship,' he said quickly, wiping a tear from his cheek. 'I'm overjoyed that my baby girl is still okay… I should have never doubted her in the first place. I… wait,' he said, looking around, 'where did everyone go?'

'They left once Bulma said they didn't need any help in the form of a space mission- for the foreseeable future, at least.'

'Oh. A shame,' Mr. Briefs murmured. 'I had thrown in a number of cool features into the ship that I had wanted to show to everyone.'

Retu looked at him funny. 'Did you change the ship's design since the last time I looked at the schematics?'

'Well, after we agreed to move back the launch date, I had more time to tinker with the ship…' Mr. Briefs scratched his neck. 'I may have invented a really helpful training aid…'

Retu pursued his lips. 'Really?...'

0o0o0

Korin, with his staff firmly held in his right hand, gazed over the edge of the Lookout. He still had some difficulty tapping into this place's passive omnipotence- he wasn't The Guardian, after all- but his experience serving in his tower was proving to be marginally transferable; it had taken time and effort, but he had set his sight upon Capsule Corp., had held it there for a brief time, and learned of what had just occurred from afar. It was, if he was being honest, pretty nifty.

'So they aren't going, after all…' Korin mused to himself. He slowly opened his eyes, readjusting his senses to where his body currently stood, and took a moment to gaze out at the blue expanse surrounding the Lookout in every direction. If he were to continue with being honest, he would have to admit that Kami's view was much better than his own.

'Yajirobe,' Korin said, turning to face away from the edge. 'I have some good news!'

The samurai was balanced expertly on one leg and had a watering can in each hand. From each, water rained down on the rows of plants to his left and right. 'Yeah?' He responded.

'They're not going to Namek,' Korin informed him while drawing closer. 'Looks like you won't have to be pressed back into training after all-'

'Well, that's good-'

'-although I highly recommend it.'

An awkward silence descended on them, as each was reluctant to acknowledge what the other had said, but Korin surrendered and said: 'That's my opinion. You're your own person, of course.'

'Damn right,' Yajirobe said soon before he tipped to one side very quickly, flicked the watering can over his head in an arc, and caught it with the free fingers of his other hand.

The cat gave a soft smile. 'You're getting quite good at gardening,' Korin remarked.

'I'm hungry. I have to be good at gardening.'

0o0o0

To be alone in Hell was to suffer. It had not taken long for Kakarot to learn this, as the confusing, twisting, bedeviling landscape led him in circles real and imagined, threw him into conflicts old and new, and aimed to drain him of any will to persist. To be alone in hell was to be spent, exhausted all the time, with nothing to reflect on except the past actions that had landed him here- which were numerous and irredeemably stained with regret.

But to have someone else at your side… it insulated Kakarot from the heavy energy that sought to sink him with every step he took. He was grateful to have a companion; he was grateful that it was his father.

'Tell me about the girl again,' Bardock said, squatting down on the cliff edge to his left. His father, ignoring the battle armor that resembled that of Raditz's, was the spitting image of himself, albeit with a few more scars on his face and cheeks. When Kakarot had died, he was both surprised and disappointed that the clothes he was given in Hell were the same brown rags he had died in.

They both faced and had faced a flat wasteland for some time. Neither could specify anything further. 'What was her name?'

'Chi-Chi,' Kakarot answered quietly. His eyes relentlessly swept the ground stretching against the horizon. 'She… began to understand me.'

'She was a fighter, yeah?'

'She was. She… is. I hope.'

'Well, she's not here,' Bardock pointed out. 'So she's either alive or in a better place than us.'

'Mhm.' Kakarot's attention was firmly fixed forward.

Bardock half-turned to Kakarot in his squat, twisting on his ankles and heels, then snapped back to his previous position. 'You know, I never found your mother here,' he said in a low chuckle that carried his words off the edge of the cliff. 'Makes me think she's in a better place than us. Which is how it should be; she was always the better person of the two of us.'

'So you saw her die?'

'Not necessarily- but I saw enough.'

It was a daily struggle for Kakarot to remember that there was a world beyond their unending watch; that there was a planet called Earth moving on without him, where his son continued to grow and Chi-Chi did her best to raise him. That was gnawing- there were things that were happening, had happened, that he cared about immensely, and the only knowledge he could glean in this present time and place was gathered from endlessly watching a flat, unending wasteland. There were answers he should have known beyond a doubt- and yet his present circumstances denied what he knew to be true, because he had done the deed himself-

Kakarot's scanning of the wasteland reached a peek, and then in disgust, he swung his gaze away. 'I don't understand. Raditz should be here.'

Bardock gave a grunt; he didn't intend for it to really say anything, and accordingly, it didn't seem to mean anything to his son.

'He should be here…' Kakarot repeated from worry. 'I killed him… he should be here.' He turned to Bardock, distraught. 'Are you sure everyone new enters around this area?'

'Kakarot,' Bardock said in a stern voice, 'I've been dead for nearly as long as you were alive. Trust me when I saw this; I know far more than I want to about this realm. If Raditz died, he would have arrived here first.'

'So, then, he didn't die? But- I know-'

'Son,' Bardock said, bouncing up off his heels to stand. 'We see funny things in death. When I died, I thought I saw my mother- your grandmother- welcoming me back into her arms, even though the last time I had seen her, I was storming out as she flung every curse imaginable my way for mating with your mother- which was a very controversial choice-'

There was something very comforting and familiar in the way Bardock spoke to Kakarot, but at the same time, it was infuriating- it just spoke to everything Kakarot had missed out while growing up that led to the twisted life he had led. He didn't want to be angry with his father, to blame him for his life in a way he would never express, but these feelings rang true to him.

'...And who knows? Perhaps the humans weren't as strong as you thought they were. Raditz might have won, after all. We saw the bald one here, after all- he wasn't strong enough to survive.'

'That's because I killed him,' Kakarot said in a low voice. 'Just like I killed Raditz.' Emphatically, and without making much of an effort to disguise the anger he felt, Kakarot turned to his father. 'He should be here.'

Bardock had run out of things to say, and lacking anything better to do, he did something very Saiyan and kept his gaze steady towards his son. Kakarot's obstinance seemed to run aground on this and break; he crossed his arms and resumed his watch of the wasteland after a few tensed moments. 'Is this all we can do?' Kakarot said in a small, hopeless voice. 'Scrutinize a colorless horizon for the rest of eternity? Is that all?'

'We'll do this for however long Raditz needs to join us here,' Bardock stated plainly. 'Family is everything. That's why you care about Chi-Chi and your son- that is why I care for you, Raditz, and your mother.' Bardock looked Kakarot dead in the eyes. 'You and Raditz are the only things keeping me around like the old, haunting specter that I am; as long as your brother is unaccounted for, my job as a father isn't done.'

His speech affected Kakarot; his son's seriousness of expression lightened some. 'He must be alive…' Kakarot muttered. 'He lived… but… how?'

'Well, if you'd just listen to me-'

'I need to tell you something,' Kakarot cut him off, so suddenly and abruptly that the thought must have sprung into his mind just as forcefully. 'Something I didn't even tell Raditz.'

Bardock rubbed his jaw. 'Well, from what you told, Raditz grew into a real piece of work, so I'm not surprised that you didn't really confide in him... so, hit me.'

'Is it possible that Raditz arrived here and then left before you noticed?'

The question caused Bardock to arch his arms backward in an apparent stretch. 'Possibly,' he answered. 'I didn't notice that you were here for a little bit, after all. Who's to say he didn't pop in and out? Though… why would that happen? It's not like people in Hell get to leave.'

'Well- I was thinking-'

'Ahah!' Bardock exclaimed, shooting upward. 'Maybe Raditz ran off as soon as he got there- just flew to the ends of this realm looking for an exit. He could have done it- I did it, after all, and if there was anything Raditz inherited from me, it was my stubbornness, though not my strength…'

Kakarot swung his head to look at Bardock, who was now bouncing around with energy he scarcely seemed to possess just seconds before, and felt a wave of astonishment wash over him. His father was so different from Raditz- he could be stoic, exuberant, even silly, while his brother had never treated him with anything better than a thinly disguised disdain. There were so different… and even though he was trapped in a foul mood, Kakarot felt his father's presence like a hand extended to help. He was, again, grateful.

'No-' Kakarot interrupted, shaking his head '-listen. Chi-Chi told me about something in passing once- about some set of artifacts that were so strong and powerful that they could bring the dead back to life.'

'Yeah?' Bardock looked at him skeptically. 'No kidding?'

'Yeah. She called them Dragonballs.'

And so Bardock listened to Kakarot and his story of a god-like green being, and fell into a deep thought.

0o0o0

The world was unlit, muted, like his ship during the long journeys he had once taken through space. No, that was exactly it; this was just like the hundreds of times he had been drugged to sleep while his pod floated through the dark void of space. He was that ship, hurtling through the blackness, a shell for something that would never be touched by the streaks of light gracing the ship's path. It almost felt like he was dead, except that he knew- even if he couldn't think or do anything else than simply experience what he currently felt- there was a living world shining all around him. He simply needed to reach out and open the hatch, and let the light spill through. He- he stretched-

And then a white pulse flowed through Raditz's veins, all at once confirming what he had suspected, what he had known- he wasn't dead. He couldn't be. It was such a warm, sunny feeling to still be alive-

'You seem much calmer this time around,' a voice said, sliding into his world with all the ease of the sun shining down on a cloudless day. 'Do you feel calm?'

'I do,' Raditz spoke candidly 'I feel as if I can think-'

'In the ways I enabled you to,' the voice said acutely. 'I wanted to have a discussion. What do you know about your race?'

'My… what?' The question made his head- no, not his head, something far more essential; something hurt, even though his mind tried to search for an answer. 'I…'

'One moment.' Then there was a gasp from someone not him, and Raditz felt the answer float to the top of his head.

'The Saiyans? We are a proud race.'

Something akin to tutting crinkled Raditz's reality. 'I don't care of pride. I care about what you are- your body, your flesh, your latent abilities… I care about these things greatly.'

'I am… a Saiyan.'

'Yes, you've said that. What else?'

'I… am Raditz.'

A sigh pierced Raditz like light, and for the first time he began to grow scared. Sighing was not supposed to do this. He felt liable to wilt and die like a plant set out in the sun too long-

'I don't care about your name!' the voice resumed. 'You really don't know where you are, do you? I've done my job too well!'

Raditz thought for a moment- thinking in some ways was hard, but immeasurably easy in others- and said: 'Where is Kakarot?'

'And who,' the voice complained, 'is that?'

'My brother.'

The light was held constant for a moment, and then Raditz felt like a platform being pushed towards the sky. 'Your brother? Tell me; did he have a tail?'

'Yes… I want to see him.'

The voice snorted. 'Well, I never found him, so we're both left wanting.'

Confusion gripped Raditz. Who was this person? And why was it so bright? 'Am I dead?'

'What does your tail do, exactly?' the voice said, seemingly ignoring Raditz's question.

'Am I not dead?'

'Tell me about your tail.'

'Why?'

The light shuddered violently, and for a second Raditz thought the shell would crack and shatter. 'You talk too much! Insufferable, unhelpful speech! Curse progress; curse my old body! A few more years and you would be singing to me! I need time! Time…'

Raditz said nothing; he was much too afraid.

The light held on him, and began to pull back. 'You are pitiful,' the voice said, its tone altered. 'Within you must be the strongest genome ever contained within a biological organism, and yet you fell to miserable, weak humans. If you had just survived of your own accord… my word, how you would have grown. If your cells have told me anything, they speak volumes of your potential!' The voice paused, and then Raditz felt the light wax to almost nothing. 'That is something I cannot tolerate… a horrible waste of raw resources…'

'No!' Raditz cried, now almost fully left in the dark. 'Don't… leave… please…'

'Oh?' In a perverse distortion of Raditz's wishes, the light returned quickly, painfully, as it cut into every exposed part of his being. 'You've made things indescribably difficult for me,' the voice seethed, shaking Raditz with the sheer brightness belaying its tone. 'I never wanted you, with your failing body and half-living brain- I wanted Kakarot, the boy who had reduced my strongest creations to nothing and forever shamed my reputation as a scientist. He would have served my purposes well; he would have been the perfect avatar to bring about my revenge against those baneful human interlopers!'

Around this time, Raditz realized that he was alive, and furthermore, he realized he did not want to be.

'But I will make do with what I have… and if you do not have a tail now, then I will simply have to wait, and if time seeks to thwart me, I will solve that issue, too. And then I will solve you.'

Then the darkness closed in around him again, and he was forced to be a shell.

0o0o0

Things were calmer now on King Kai's planet- the earlier, atypical uproar was now several hours in the past, and serenity had reclaimed the four souls who, for the moment, resided there.

And then a crimson flash of light burst into life from seemingly nowhere, shone and burned as bright as any star in the galaxy, and faded just as quickly as it appeared. Another uproar was born.

'What the hell was that?' Krillin asked, bewildered. King Kai's power level had shot up- shot up- well it had shot up! Ki wasn't supposed to do that! Power levels weren't supposed to do that!

The Namekian at Krillin's side took a much more measured approach. 'That was a technique?' He guessed.

'Indeed. Just a little something I call the Kaioken,' King Kai answered with a smile.

'He didn't invent it, by the way,' Master Roshi informed them from his nearby chair.

'Now, why did you have to go and say that!?' King Kai yelled, twisting and raising a fist at Master Roshi. 'I was going to-'

'You were going to claim credit for it,' Master Roshi said lazily. He hadn't lifted his gaze from his magazine. 'That's what you did with me, anyway.'

'I deserve credit!' King Kai shot back. 'I may not have invented it, but I perfected it!'

To King Kai's annoyance, Master Roshi shrugged at this last comment and thumbed forward a page. 'Jerk…' King Kai muttered under his breath as he faced his pupils again. 'Regardless, I am an unimpeachably qualified teacher of the Kaioken. Ask me any question, and I shall answer it.'

'Well, how does it work, to start?' Krillin queried.

'Good question, and a prescient one! The Kaioken enables a supercharged state of ki- for a brief period of time, a user's power is enhanced by an overwhelming energy coursing through every inch of one's body, but this energy comes at a heavy cost!' King Kai made a point of raising a foreboding finger and wagging it. 'It is derived from a ruthless and thorough drain of the ki in one's surrounding environment and, furthermore, one's own muscles- the crimson color derives from the user sucking ki out from the immediate space around them. That is to say, the longer one uses the Kaioken, the more damage you do to your body! And this strain only increases as you use the state's higher forms! In other words, it is a very dangerous ability!'

'You didn't look very troubled using it just now,' Piccolo observed.

'That's because I'm a deity,' King Kai said matter-of-factly. 'It doesn't have an effect on my ki, or at least not the extent it would have on you two. Both of you have mortal ki.'

'Can we still use it, though?' Krillin asked, and shifted his gaze beyond King Kai. 'Can you still use it, Master Roshi?'

'Oh, I can use it fine,' Master Roshi replied off-handedly. 'It's just very taxing to use.'

'And dangerous!' King Kai reminded them. 'Both of you must always exercise caution when considering when to use this technique! If used improperly or with the slightest bit of distraction, the extra ki might prove too hard to handle and may kill you!'

Piccolo crossed his arms. 'Do you take us for children?'

'Well, no-'

'Then trust our judgment as seasoned fighters,' Piccolo said bluntly. 'We'll use it only when we absolutely need to. So can we start learning, now?'

'Fine, fine,' King Kai relented, adjusting his shades. 'To teach you the basic principle of the Kaioken, I'll need to press a hand to your head and impart it to your mind… you do not object, do you?'

Piccolo looked uneasy with the request, but he sighed, and said: 'Just make it quick.'

'Wait-' Master Roshi spoke up just before King Kai's hand touched Piccolo's forehead. He set his magazine down and gave a hard glare at King Kai. 'Are you planning to teach Piccolo the Kaioken?'

'Wasn't that obvious from the beginning?'

'He's a villain- he's planning on using this to advance his own agenda,' Master Roshi pressed. 'Didn't you hear what he said earlier?'

'I'll get a feel for his true nature when I impart the lesson on him,' King Kai said, somewhat irked. 'If he's hiding any evil desire, I'll know it the moment I touch him.'

Piccolo's eyes widened. 'Wait, what-'

In the next moment, when King Kai's hand made contact with Piccolo's skin, and for a brief moment neither of them moved an inch. Then, in the next, it was over, and King Kai was retracting his hand. 'Well, that's unfortunate. I'm terribly sorry…' he addressed Piccolo, 'but I'm afraid that I cannot teach you the Kaioken. You've got a good heart otherwise, though.'

'What!?' Piccolo barked. A purple flush- either from rage or the embarrassment of his inner nature being talked about aloud- was present on his face. 'Why!?'

'It's because of your constitution, your abilities- you can use regenerative abilities, can you not?'

Piccolo's anger cooled some, and he narrowed his eyes at King Kai. '... I can, yes.'

'Someone who can use ki to regenerate cannot expend ki in the way the Kaioken necessitates- for the technique requires someone to negatively use ki to harm oneself in an attempt to power up, effectively. Regeneration is utterly different- it is what pushing is to pulling. You, Piccolo, expend ki within your body to repair, not harm.' King Kai saw the sour look painted on Piccolo's face, and added, 'Sorry.'

'But what about ki attacks?' Piccolo asked, thinking he'd found a flaw in King Kai's argument. 'With those, I'm manipulating my own ki to harm someone else.'

'Ah, but in those circumstances, the ki has left your body, has it not? What would happen if you tried to launch a ki attack out of your own flesh? I imagine your regeneration would make that impossible- your energy goes in the opposite direction.' King Kai briefly looked at both Piccolo and Krillin. 'I really hope you're getting some idea about the dangers of the Kaioken, because it is, in most ways, akin to launching a ki attack from deep within your own body.'

To Piccolo, the explanation made sense, and despite his urge to declare that some sort of trickery was at work, he did realize that his regenerative powers were unique. Perhaps he could make them a strength- he could certainly survive more blows in combat than the human, Krillin, could.

Inwardly, Piccolo sneered. Did I just refer to that human by his name? I'm ashamed of myself...

While these thoughts strode through Piccolo's mind, King Kai gracefully moved over to Krillin, placed his hand onto his offered head, and rescinded it a second later.

A proud focus came into King Kai's eyes. 'You, Krillin, can learn the Kaioken.'

0o0o0

A being strode across a lifeless, barren wasteland that matched his own metaphysical state, and went unseen and unnoticed by the shadows and wraiths prowling all around him. The air in Hell was thick, and made breathing hard, even though King Piccolo somehow knew that he did not need to breathe here. If he held his breath his lungs would ache, and an itch would spread across his body from head to toe, but he was too wise- Kami was too wise- to not know the tricks this place could play on you. The link he felt with his "good"- he preferred "foolish"- half had been strong when he had first arrived here, but concurrent with the growth of his heir and son, he had felt this connection waver and fade. At first he had been grateful to finally be free of such an insufferable being; but now, in the blasted landscape he now found himself in, he found his own mind a lonely companion.

There had been something… drawing him, like a beacon in the fog, across the rough and confusing landscape of this realm. He had spent so much time drawn into that first wonderful illusion- the specters of the past that rose from the dust and gave him a chance to right ancient wrongs and settle old scores; but the battles were but a mirage, and did nothing but exhaust him and torture him with enemies he could never fully defeat. And so he had turned his back on this place, on the grudges that called out for vengeance, and had focused on a distinct feeling that emanated from some long-off point. He had begun wandering a very long time ago, and like other things in this realm, he did not know if his choice to walk and the long-off destination were real.

But it was something, a goal of sorts, that could give him a reason to persist. He had seen enough specters and sufferers to differentiate the two- he saw beings far eviler than him be devoured by their demons, and wander half-wild and crazed through the scarred and twisted land, becoming better reflections of the trauma they surely committed in life by the second.

There were very few people here who did not lose their minds, and the ones who did not were either too strong for this realm to absorb, or were convinced enough of a goal to persist. King Piccolo was sure enough that he fell into the latter category.

He came to a ridge, and much to his surprise, he found it too steep to walk up. Up until this point he had seen no vertical landmarks or hard to climb fixtures in Hell- everything here was maddening traversable, confusing but not impossible. All experience was made to be monotonous, which made this feature of the landscape all the stranger.

King Piccolo actually found himself getting excited. It had been a long time since he had last needed to use his body for any activity other than walking. A quick examination of the ridge revealed many crags and footholds- it would be an easy climb.

As he ascended, and he felt the first true exertion in his muscles in what felt like eons, the beacon washed over him anew, foretelling of his imminent arrival at it. In turn his breath quickened and he moved up the ridge even quicker.

When he had pulled himself over the ridge's edge, feeling the fake relief flood his lungs, his hearing caught something; there was another being up here breathing in calm, measured lengths. Slowing his own breathing, King Piccolo stood and wandered towards the center of the ridge until he came across- he couldn't-

The person before him was much too large, much too familiar to be anything but terror-inducing. Green skin of an even darker shade than his own accentuated a simple black robe that, again, was too much like his. And to make the mimicry complete, they were seated in a meditation pose nearly identical to one he would use. This person was clearly a Namekian… but…

'Who?...'

The figure had not seemed to notice his approach, but upon King Piccolo's meek utterance, they slowly stood and fully unwound their thick, long-limbed body, and with a sick, muscled sweep of his arms, made a muted gesture towards the small space at the top of the ridge. 'You've found me at last.' the person said, in a deep voice even lower than Piccolo's. 'My son… what has he done to you?'

0o0o0

They would soon disembark onto solid ground once more, but before Tien could permit himself to face the task ahead, he had to face the task before him. Pausing for a moment, he knocked.

Yamcha opened the door the next moment. Outwardly, he looked fine, though Tien would be foolish to assume that was the case. 'All ready to go?' he asked.

Yamcha gave a nod; but then something flickered in his eyes, and he said in an even voice: 'I'm sorry about everything, Tien. I haven't been as steady as you needed me to be- as Bulma needed us to be- since Krillin died. I thought I was coping in the right way, that keeping a frozen face would be the best for all of us… but I see now that I was just denying my own problems. I was distant, uncommunicative… a general pain in the ass. And I'm deeply sorry for that. I want you and Bulma to know that I'm going to be… around as much as I can, emotionally, so that I don't fall off the cliff-edge again. If our time on Namek is going to be anything like the events leading up to it, then we're going to need to be here for each other.' There was a glittering in the corner of one of his eyes, but Yamcha moved quickly and rubbed at it with his hand. 'I'll try to be more like you- stable. It's what I need to do.'

Tien hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching the Yamcha's expression for a single chink. 'There's something you should know, Yamcha.' He said, voice steadily quiet. 'My decision to spare Bez- I didn't do that because I was sure it was the right choice. I was afraid of killing him. The last time I had killed someone, it had been because I was a hired killer, and I had no sense of the harm that I was doing… and to be placed into that position again, even though I knew I was right to kill Bez… it reminded me too much of my past.' Tien's eyes focused on Yamcha's. 'I was the coward, not you. You defended us and fought by my side, and did what you thought needed to be done. I can't fault you for that.'

For a moment Tien considered whether to stop there. 'I just want you to know…' he continued. '...It's okay to not know what to do. But as long as we have each other, and we pool our strengths, we can figure out any problem that throws itself in our path.' He placed a hand onto one of Yamcha's shoulders and gave a squeeze. 'Alright?

Yamcha gave a small smile, and did the same in return. 'Alright.'

0o0o0

Bulma was first out of the shuttle, and was struck by the what she saw. The blues and greens of Namek, expressed through tall, waving grass and placid and endless lakes of water, were such a marked departure from the bleached brown and grays of FP083, that Bulma felt she had crossed into an entirely different life; one where she hadn't been forced to work as a technician for an evil galactic empire, and hadn't needed to enable the extinction of countless civilizations, each one with a distinct story now wiped from the fabric of the universe. But in the current life she led, the gravity of Namek was comfortable, pleasant- this planet might as well have been a paradise compared to what the galaxy had offered them so far. She took in a deep breath; it smelled of freedom.

Bulma was convinced that Namek was a beautiful world, if not idyllic, and hopefully, if its inhabitants were representative of their home even slightly, it would make the Earth a more beautiful world, too.


A/N: I wasn't quite sure how to approach this chapter from an organic perspective. There were some different places I wanted to touch upon, though I wasn't sure how to naturally lead into them. So what you see here is my best attempt of it. Cheers.

You also may notice that I am going down the path of creative liberty for "big universe backstory-slash-events-whatever". In other words, for the events that were either very vague or inconsequential to the main story, I'm doing a revamp of them and incorporating them into a larger conception of the timeline/universe. I hadn't really planned on doing some of the changes that are showing up in this chapter, but a manic day of brainstorming led me to some (hopefully) very cool ideas for the world-building.

Also, I gave a headcanon reason for why I think Piccolo wouldn't/couldn't use the Kaioken. This is more of a power scaling balance more than anything else, because it's shown that Namekians can get plenty strong without something like the Kaioken to aid them.

Reviews:

LWexe: And here we are! Namek! Ta-da!

Perfect Carnage: I really, really wish I could explicate exactly how I've planned that. Or how I planed the lack of that happening. You know.

Luke: Thank you for the high praise! I aim to shade :^).

TC9078: Ah, how could I not! TFS has done wonders for the characterization of so many characters in DBZ. So much respect for those goobers.

Rowan Citrian: Thank you for the first time review! I certainly love 'em :^)

TFS does indeedy use an approximation of that line, though I was trying to go for a different use for it; while it was used in the show by Vegeta and Nappa to mock Raditz's power, for Krillin and Piccolo here, Raditz is the standard for strength up until this point. He was nearly untouchable for most of their fight with him, and as such, I thought it would be the metric Krillin's mind would immediately spring to when even more daunting powers were unveiled to him.

Bez? I gave a little more description in this chapter, but to be honest, I'm not big on physical characterization- when I read a book, for example, I get a vague image of characters but usually never anything specific. Though, in this case, considering that there's another purple, bald alien running around- *cough* Cui *cough*- I definitely should have described him better earlier, lol.

OneofTen:

Alright, the throw-down chapters are still a ways away, but they're coming! I might have jumped the gun at the end of the previous chapter.