Echoes

Chapter 72: The New Normal


The morning had turned into the afternoon- a beep at her wrist the only thing interrupting her uncharacteristically deep thinking about what's important in her life- when the knock on her door came.

She guessed wrong as to who it was, though.

'Bez?' Bulma scanned the hastily dressed alien. 'What's up?'

'I got an idea,' he said quickly, his body ready to pop up like a spring. 'Can I come in?'

'Yeah…' She leaned out of the door, and glanced around her stoop. 'You sure there's no one else with you?'

Bez nudged her aside and walked in. 'Pretty sure- but someone's going to come around later.'

She eyed him. 'Who?'

'Krillin.' Bez's expression shifted. 'Bulma, why didn't you tell me about what happened with Kami?'

She closed the door. 'I didn't think you knew about him,' she admitted, turning to him.

'I do now. Krillin told me.'

'Why did Krillin tell you?'

'Because this is a big deal!' Bez said, straightening. 'I appreciate you giving me a place to sleep and something to do in those board meetings,' his face darkened, 'but I would have spent my time differently if I knew how bad things are right now.'

Bulma half-frowned. 'They're not that bad…'

'Krillin told me he hasn't done any training in the past year because of the whole mess with Ginyu,' Bez said patiently. 'And now your magic squares, or whatever, might be out of commission?'

'Balls,' Bulma corrected him. 'Magic balls.'

'You get the point.' Bez moved past her, paced the hallway leading to the door up and down once. 'You probably get my entire point- we need to fix these issues.'

'Yeah?' Bulma crossed her arms; a shadow of a sneer radiated from her face. 'And what do you think I've been doing?'

'I know what you've been doing,' Bez said. 'I've been to the board meetings.'

'And you think I tell them everything I've been working on? You think I've got nothing slow-cooking in my lab?'

'Not the point! I'm not trying to discount your work- but you haven't made any progress with Ginyu or Recoome, right?'

It was a little too early in the day- and Bulma was in entirely the wrong mood- to pridefully defend her problem-solving for problems she hadn't actually solved. 'No,' she said, her posture slightly deflating. 'I haven't.'

'Right-' Bez said, pacing and spinning to her. 'So I had an idea. When Krillin talked to me-'

'Wait- back up,' Bulma said, holding up a hand. 'Why did Krillin talk with you and not me?'

'Because I've been in the PTO the longest,' Bez said, glancing at her. 'I know how people like Ginyu think… somewhat.'

Bulma cocked her head. 'So that's your idea? It's got something to do with them? What, want me to blast them into space?'

Bez stopped, and drew his arms into his body. 'Bulma-' he looked at her, '-you have a splice into the PTO network, right? Could you retrieve a very particular type of file?'

Bulma squinted at him. 'Huh?'

0o0o0

He hadn't broken.

Days stretched into weeks stretched into months, dragging with it any sense of time. He had been chained to this wall, energy cuffs chafing his wrists and ankles, and was forced to watch his old body freely flit into his cell from time to time, taunting him with his past mistakes. Never before had he failed to dispose of his old body after having taken someone else's. It was a stain on his record, and coupled with the conditions of his life here… he was suffering.

But it was bearable suffering. For he knew that he had claimed the final victory- that, as long as he had this new body, they couldn't touch him. Sooner or later, they would have to give up on trying to convince him and face facts; either they would lead his master here and perish, or would be forced to release him- if his master wasn't already on his way.

To be honest, Ginyu thought the first option was a win for both sides- he left them, resumed his lofty position in the galaxy, and they stopped flirting with total annihilation. Of course, they probably suspected what he desired- once free, he would aim to destroy this planet as revenge for his time in imprisonment and the likely death of everyone in his squad. But he would not pursue that immediately. He wished to enjoy the pleasures of the galaxy- in an entirely new body, with its new sensations and proclivities- first.

His thinking churning along that thread, Ginyu barely noticed when someone utterly unexpected stomped into his cell.

'And who are you, wretch?'

Adrenaline surged through Ginyu's body. He glanced up. 'My Lord!?'

Lord Frieza, dressed in his regal armor as if pulled Ginyu's memories, glared at him. 'Speak, wretch!'he growled, raising a finger tipped with red ki. 'Or I'll punch you full of holes and see what answers fall out!'

Ginyu babbled- genuinely babbled, without a thought spared for where his mouth was going- before suddenly lurching against his chains. 'My Lord, it is I, Ginyu!' he shouted. 'Please, save me!'

'Save you?' Frieza mocked back at him. His finger glowed brighter. 'You look like all the other pests I've exterminated on this planet so far- and you claim to be Ginyu?' Frieza swung his head back and laughed. 'Hilarious!'

'It's true, my Lord!' Ginyu said. 'If I wasn't him, how would I know to utter his name in your splendid presence?!'

'Because you are desperately trying to be cunning!' Frieza said, still laughing. 'My enemies must be when they know they cannot hope to best me in a fight.'

'Lord! Please! Release me!' Ginyu pleaded. 'If you are here-'

'If I am here,' Frieza interrupted him, his voice flat, 'that means that my army is in the process of leveling this planet as we speak. In other words,' Frieza raised his finger at Ginyu again,' we are killing everything that breathes. What reason do I have to take your word as truth and spare you? How could you prove that you are Ginyu?'

'I'm chained up!' Ginyu said, rattling his bonds. 'I'm obviously not aligned with these pasty people!'

'And, yet, you are pasty,' Frieza said with disgust. 'Just because you are not aligned with them does not mean you are aligned with me.'

'Lord, there must be some way… I… I can!...' Ginyu, eyes set on the rippling drop of red ki at the tip of Frieza's finger, wracked his brain. 'I- I can switch bodies!' He exclaimed. 'Yes! I can switch bodies with someone else and prove I'm Ginyu!'

Frieza's face lifted, though his finger did not point away from Ginyu's chest. 'Oh? Can you?'

'Yes!' Ginyu said, face dancing with relief. 'Free me! Free me!'

For a long second Frieza gazed at him, his face a mix of wariness and obvious pleasure. To Ginyu, it seemed that he was weighing what would be more entertaining: killing a chained man now, or killing a moving target. I'll prove him wrong… I just need a chance!

'Fine.' With a quick flick of Frieza's hand, a line of ki raced across the room and passed between Ginyu and the wall. He immediately fell forward; he staggered and caught himself on sore and unused muscles. Ginyu was far too elated to care about that, though. 'Lord!' he said jubilantly lifting his head. 'I-'

'Uh… my Lord…' Ginyu said slowly, wiggling his wrists and ankles. 'You didn't free me of my restraints.'

'That is because I don't trust you, imbecile,' Frieza said, turning. 'For all I know, you may be a spy…'

Frieza's speech fell off as he exited the room. Hopping frantically, Ginyu followed him out.

He had never been out here- and, judging by the scale of carnage wrought on the stone floors and ceilings, and the motionless, bloody body lying in a pile of broken wood to his left, he guessed he would never get an accurate sense of this world. He nearly fell over from a quake, which preceded the sound of a distant building crashing down, that split the floor with a nasty crack.

'...some idealist who tried to shank me- that was annoying,' Ginyu heard Frieza finish. Without sparing a glance for the devastation around him, Frieza continued striding forward down a long and narrow hallway. 'So, before you rejoin my army,' he stopped abruptly, and turned to him. 'You're going to switch bodies- with this one,' he said, pointing with his right arm across his body to his left.

Ginyu followed Frieza's indication… and saw himself. He gulped. 'Him?'

'I sense difficulty in your voice,' Frieza said.

'Uh, Lord… he looks nearly dead,' Ginyu said tentatively. 'And he's still shackled, too.'

'I smacked him around when he didn't address me properly,' Frieza said casually, glancing at the bruised and crumpled purple alien. He was pushed against the wall, spooning a massive impact crater. 'And you claim to be Ginyu? You claim to be him?'

Ginyu stood to attention. 'One hundred percent, sir!'

'So prove it.' Frieza stood to the side, giving Ginyu a clear path to his former body. 'I liked you more when you were purple, anyway.'

'But… sir… I like this body,' Ginyu said, like a child being forced to give up a new toy.

'Ugh,' Frieza groaned, rolling his eyes. 'Freaky, annoying little…'

'What was that, my Lord?'

'Do as I say!' Frieza said suddenly, snapping his head to Ginyu. 'Or I will obliterate you without a second thought!'

Ginyu flinched back- 'Sir- but-'

A chorus of screams- short, horrible, and then silent- rushed down the hallway and past Frieza as his mouth hinged open. 'NOW!'

'Ohhhh!...' Grimacing, Ginyu shut his eyes and turned to his old haunt. 'Change, now!'

Everything went weird for a second- which happened whenever he shoved his soul into something else- but the dizziness and confusion passed, and when he blinked, he saw Frieza leaning over him with a curious look. Oddly curious, actually.

Once Frieza saw he had come to, however, normal regality returned to his face.'See?' Frieza said cooly. 'Was that so hard?'

Ginyu tested his body. He didn't feel that smack Frieza had given it earlier, but pain had a way of lagging after swaps. Rolling his neck, he looked to his right; his former body-

He gasped, rolled backward as Krillin came up to Frieza's side, grinning like a madman. 'Frieza,' he said, 'would you be a dear and relieve me of these handcuffs?'

Uncomprehending, Ginyu glanced to his master- and from his position, beneath Frieza and the corridor's light above him, he saw thin silver lines flow through the air around his humorless face. Frieza never looked away from him as he pressed a button on Krillin's energy cuffs and let them clunk at his feet.

He didn't know what was going on- his eyes darted back to the freed Krillin- but he saw his chance! Shuddering, he took a deep breath. 'CHANGE-'

A flash of red swept through his vision, and his mind slipped away.

0o0o0

As soon as she saw the dot of white disappear into the upper atmosphere, and confirmed what she saw with a glance to her wrist, Bulma sagged and sighed in the same measure, and pinched the bridge of her nose. 'Crazy, stressful ideas…'

By the time she plunked down on a sofa, mug of coffee gripped firmly in one hand, she had collected herself- and was just beginning to come to grips with what their gambit had achieved when her conspirators walked into the room.

Her calculating mood was dispelled by a single smile from Krillin's face.

'Krillin!' she strode over, setting down her cup, and drew him into his arms. 'How does it feel?'

Krillin hugged her back. 'Feels more normal.'

'Awesome,' she said warmly, letting go of him. 'Truly awesome, Krillin.' She stepped back; a mixed expression appeared on her face. 'With everything going on, we could all use a little more normal.'

She caught herself- she looked to Puar. 'Except you, of course.'

Her easy smile matching the energy in the room, Puar shrugged her shoulders. 'To be honest, what I did back there felt pretty normal for me.'

'Impersonating the ruler of the galaxy felt normal?' Bez asked, staring at Puar. He had come into the room slightly after Krillin and Puar and was just now reaching them. 'Have you… done that before?'

'Shapeshift?'

'Impersonate someone that... evil before.'

'A few times,' Puar said, thinking. 'Mostly underworld crime lords, though. Pretty bad people, for sure, but I don't think it's a fair comparison between them and this Frieza guy; they never had the same opportunities as him. It was a little tricky to play him, to be honest.'

'You played him perfectly,' Bez enthused. 'Showed the right amount of callousness, haughtiness, casual cruelty… It was…' He rubbed his neck. 'It was a little unnerving, to be honest.'

Bulma retreated to the couch, sat back in it, and took a sip of her coffee. 'You never saw him up close and personal though, Bez, right?'

'No…' Bez picked at his clothes- he was wearing clothes you'd see on a typical West City office worker, down to the pleated dress pants and loose-fitting tie. 'But everyone in the galaxy, and especially those in the PTO, saw the videos on the GalacticNet like the one you studied, Puar. There weren't many of those nakedly showing Frieza's evil… but the ones that were out there were widely seen.'

Puar frowned, lisping in the air. 'Yeah… I saw why.'

Krillin stared at Bez; he struggled to mesh together this person with the recalcitrant, defeated, and wary deserter with the… seemingly normal person in front of him. It had been one year- and what a difference Earth could make on a person in that time.

While I was stuck with other things...

'Bulma,' Krillin said, looking over to her. 'You sent him away while I was out, right?'

She looked up from her mug. 'Ginyu? 'Course. Wouldn't have come back in if that wasn't the case.'

'He's gone?'

'Yeah-huh.'

'Really gone?'

Bulma gazed at him through the heat lines rising from her drink. 'You need another hug?'

'I'm good,' he said, settling down on the other end of the sofa from Bulma. Drifts of Puar and Bez's conversation- which by now had somehow moved to good places to eat around West City- floated over to them. 'Just… hard to believe I'm back.' He smiled, patting his body. 'Back in this… good old thing…' he trailed off, still grinning.

Bulma watched Krillin admire his body, and calculated how nosy she wanted to be. She settled with very; she figured that she had some goodwill to burn.

'How'd she take it?' she asked casually between sips.

Krillin glanced up at her. 'Well,' he said slowly, 'I saw Rayne- told her what I planned to do before I left. She was happy then. She was happy now.'

Another sip. 'As well as you could expect?'

He softly sighed. 'Yeah. About as well. Things might take a while to get back to where they were, but…' he looked back to Bulma, warmth tingeing his voice. 'I have time again, thanks to you.'

Bulma swung a hand over their companions. 'And them.'

'And them- but you're kidding yourself if you don't think you're the MVP of this operation, Bulma,' Krillin said sternly.

'I always think I'm the MVP of everything I do, admittedly,' she said, smirking, 'but I appreciate the recognition.' She placed her cup down and stretched her arms above her head. 'Let me tell you; it wasn't easy I'm not sure what was worse; trying to find a shapeshifter without an address, phone number, or online presence in a city as big as Central, or stealing a video from the PTO network bit-by-bit so that I wouldn't get caught.'

'Probably the video,' Krillin said gamely, 'considering you had to crack the script the data was being transmitted in.'

'Actually!' Bulma said, sitting up. 'I didn't have to crack anything. As it turns out, video on the PTO's network doesn't have coding- they're transmitted unfiltered and without any accompanying script. So it was just a matter of trial-and-error until Dad and I found a video with Frieza in it-'

She snorted. 'Which didn't take long. He very much seems to be an egomaniac.'

'The people under him were, too, so it makes sense.'

'They followed his lead?'

'Probably.'

'Guess so,' Bulma mused. 'That's definitely true for Ginyu, though…'

Krillin looked at her. 'Though what?'

Bulma interlocked her hands and put them behind her head. 'Related topic… I haven't sent Recoome away.'

'... you meant to say "yet" at the end of that, right?'

'I'm not sure he wants to go,' Bulma said frankly. 'I don't think he wants to do anything.'

'Ginyu wanted to go while he was in my body,' Krillin pointed out. 'Why worry about what Recoome wants?'

'Well, you've been with him,' Bulma said. 'He sorta just… stares off into space and doesn't respond. I feel bad for him.'

'Yeah, and-'

Krillin's abrupt silence grabbed Bulma's attention. 'What?' she asked, looking over to him.

'I forgot,' Krillin said quietly. 'With everything that was going on, I forgot... I put him in that bed.'

'You did,' Bulma acknowledged, 'but, if you hadn't done that, well...' She frowned and drew a line across her neck.

Krillin shot a look at Bulma. 'I still feel bad about what I did- and aren't we supposed to be sympathizing with the guy? Why are you reminding me that he tried to kill me?'

'Because… it's complicated, I guess,' Bulma sighed. She glanced away from him. 'Because Bez once tried to kill Yamcha and Tien.'

Krillin's expression dropped. 'Seriously?' he said quietly, matching Bulma's tone. He noted that Bez and Puar were, somehow, still chatting about restaurants. 'He did?'

Bulma nodded. 'When Tien and Yamcha were still in the PTO's ranks. Bez tried to kill them while they were on a mission and steal their contract. It was a close fight, but unlike his cronies, Bez managed to live longer than the battle. He was struck down, but alive, and…'

'And what?' Krillin asked.

Bulma's hands gripped the edge of the sofa like clamps. 'Tien told me that Yamcha tried to kill Bez… after he fell unconscious.' Her gaze dropped to the floor. 'When he couldn't defend himself…'

'Oh.' Krillin said. 'I didn't know that.'

'It wasn't his fault,' Bulma said quickly, looking at him. 'Both Tien and Yamcha- they suffered in the PTO, each in different ways… and that's what I keep thinking about.' Bulma shook her head. 'I think about how the PTO was evil and cloying enough to turn Yamcha into a would-be murderer. I think about what it did to Bez.'

Krillin looked away. The well-dressed alien…

'I thought a lot about that today. And I wondered the same about Recoome.'

Krillin broke the silence by placing a hand on her shoulder.

'If that's the case,' he said, standing, 'then I'd suggest you get him out of the room you've been keeping him for the last year. Get him somewhere more… humane, or xeno-phane, or whatever, and give him something to do.'

Bulma examined his posture. 'You're leaving?'

'Got a few more things to do- people to cheer up, and the like- before I get down to business.'

'Training?'

'Training,' Krillin confirmed. 'And,' he glanced around the room, 'if I could make one more suggestion?'

'Go ahead,' Bulma urged him.

'If Bez went toe-to-toe with Tien and Yamcha, get him training, too.'

Bulma scratched her neck. 'Why not just tell him yourself?'

'Aren't you employing him right now? He probably needs your permission to stop coming in.'

'Ah.'

0o0o0

'Four grunts. See them?'

'No.'

'Look to your left.'

'Where?'

'More left.'

Bardock roped his hand around Kakarot's head and turned it in his desired direction. Not too far away, about a hundred feet away from the ruined half-wall their heads were currently peaking over, four PTO soldiers were milling around a small angular patrol craft. Black and white strips of metal ran up and down it, tapering at the cockpit like an arrow. Bardock figured there'd by two, at most three seats in that ship. It wouldn't be the most comfortable thing in the galaxy… but it'd certainly be the most comfortable thing on this world.

'See them now?'

'Yes,' Kakarot grunted, shifting. 'And you want to steal their ship?'

'I don't think it's their ship,' Bardock said. 'Looks like they impounded it from someone else.'

'How can you tell?'

'The PTO would never own something so stylish.'

Kakarot smirked at him. 'Is that love I hear?'

Bardock, though smiling himself, said nothing as he stood and vaulted over the half-wall. 'Go around and approach them from behind,' he said, glancing back at Kakarot. 'We'll see if I need your help.'

He crossed the landing strip quickly- quick enough that the four soldiers didn't see him until he was nearly atop of them. 'Woah!' the biggest, and presumably most senior, exclaimed, turning to him. He was a well-muscled orange humanoid with mottled magenta patches splattered across his face and arms. 'You lost?' he asked, his voice amused. At the same time, his three buddies turned and spread out in a half-circle towards Bardock. 'You must be lost, huh?'

The smile had never really left Bardock's face. If things went how he wanted…

'Totally lost,' Bardock said, playing along. 'See, I thought that was my ship, actually.'

'Can't be yours, 'cos it's ours,' the lead alien said. 'Gonna palm it to someone else… for the right price, of course.'

Bardock's grinned further. 'This really is a backwater planet, isn't it? Who's your CO?'

'None of your business.'

'You got some interesting armor there, bud.' one of the other soldiers, lizard-like, said. 'I like it a lot.'

Bardock glanced to him. 'That so? I have to warn you; it's probably hard to get another set like this. They haven't been made for a while, I think…'

'Nah,' the other alien said, glancing at his buddies. 'I think it'll be pretty easy to get one, actually.' He stepped forward, his fingers twitching. 'Won't even have to refit it, if I'm lucky…'

They were about to jump him- Bardock knew as much from their body language- but he noticed a key detail and held up a hand confidently enough to halt them.

'Hold up,' he said, glancing between them. 'None of you have scouters?'

The lead orange alien barked laughter. 'Why would we need them? The people on this planet are puny.'

'Good thing too,' another soldier, yellow, and smaller and slimmer, said. 'What with the shortages-'

'Shut it!' the orange alien punched him on the arm. 'Don't tell a local that!

'Sorry! You know my loose lips-'

The soldier never finished his sentence as a blue blast of ki engulfed him from behind and incinerated him. Bardock spared a second to roll his eyes before appearing behind the lead alien. His neck snapped like a twig.

Some time later, once the ship had cleared the planet's surface and was firmly plotted to their next destination, Bardock sat back in the pilot's seat and turned slowly to Kakarot. 'So,' he said casually, 'you wanna explain why you obliterated that guy back there?'

Kakarot swiveled in his chair and shot him a look. 'The first guy or the second?'

'First.'

'I did what you asked me to. I attacked them from behind.'

Bardock opened his mouth, then made a tsking sound. 'Kakarot,' he said slowly, 'I didn't actually tell you to do that.'

'Yeah?' Kakarot shot him a doubtful look. 'Was your plan to convince them to let us take their ship?'

'Again, not their ship,' Bardock said quickly, 'and, no, but…'

'What?'

'It doesn't matter,' Bardock said, staring out the cockpit. At the speed they were going, stars were either slow-moving smudges or streaks against the void depending on how far away they were. Everything's relative... 'Just… you seem to have a problem with following orders in general,' he said finally.

Kakarot stared at him, then joined him in his gazing. 'Killing them was implicit,' he argued, 'though… Raditz would probably agree with what you said.' He turned away. 'I didn't grow up like you two. I never even left Earth.'

'Never?' Bardock questioned, turning to him.

'We've been over this, Dad,' Kakarot grumbled. 'Never.'

Bardock blinked at him. 'Jeez. What kind of life did you lead?'

'Again, we've been over this.'

The ship blinked and whirred around them, indifferent to the silence created by their mutual staring. Bardock thought that, if some poor sop was lost in space and was staring into their cockpit at this very moment, they would have seen two reflections studying each other. From far enough away.

'Regardless.' Bardock said, craning his head, 'it doesn't matter, because before they died, I got some useful information out of them.'

'Who were they, anyway?'

'Ah!' Bardock stood- as best he could, considering the cockpit's low ceiling- and pressed his back to the wall. 'Good place to start. Those four soldiers were part of the PTO- the Planetary Trade Organization. Back when I was alive, they basically ran the galaxy. Seems like they still do.'

'Raditz gave me the low-down on them before,' Kakarot drawled. 'Though, I'm curious: why's "Trade" in the name? Those guys looked very… militarized.' Kakarot's gaze drifted to the ceiling. 'Brings me back…'

'Long story, but there's a pretty funny- or apt, depending on how you see it- reason for why it's called that. The PTO trades planets to bidders in exchange for money… after purging those planets of all life.'

'Raditz also made that clear,' Kakarot mulled. 'So, he did that, and…' he looked at Bardock. 'I assume?...'

'I did the same, yes.'

'Did you enjoy it?'

The question caught Bardock off-guard- he bumped his head into the cockpit's ceiling. 'What?' he groaned, rubbing his head. 'Did I enjoy it?... What kind of ridiculous question is that?'

Kakarot scrutinized him. 'Why is it ridiculous?'

'Because it was a job,' Bardock emphasized. 'The only job available to Saiyans like me- Saiyans who weren't good at anything else- once the PTO took control and paid us to purge planets for them. There wasn't any choice in it, you see. And what does enjoyment have to do with something I had to do, period?'

'You could still like or dislike it, even so,' Kakarot stated.

Black eyes bored into Kakarot's. 'I don't know what bounces around in your thick skull sometimes, Kakarot,' he said, moving back and falling into his seat. 'But it's obvious that you've never spent a day among Saiyans, because if you did, you'd know how we think.' Bardock bristled, and turned gaze out again to space. 'We wouldn't waste…'

Bardock shook his head. 'Nevermind. Not important. Just another reminder.'

'What were you going to say before?' Kakarot asked, almost wearily, as if he had been drained of all his energy in the last minute.

'Think there's something up with the PTO- some major change that happened or is happening. The guys earlier mentioned shortages- scouters, if you can believe it, because every soldier in the PTO would be blind to how much danger they're in during a battle without them.' Bardock paused. 'Me included. I was pretty sure they were weaker than us, though…'

He shrugged. 'Either way, putting aside that we need to get some scouters soon, the fact that they're having supply shortages tells me something's disrupted the top-end of the organization. And…'

Bardock swept his hand over the central console of the cockpit, and held it just below an engraved metal plate. Marks in the pale yellow surface barely covered an older engraving. 'These plates are in every PTO ship, and carry on them the name of the PTO's ruler. See it?'

Kakarot squinted. 'Says Cooler.'

'And it was changed very recently. The guy in charge when I was alive was called Frieza.'

'Why is this relevant?'

'Because I just got a whole lot happier,' Bardock said, smirking. 'Now I know that the guy who destroyed my planet is either disgraced or started rotting in hell as soon as I Ieft it. The galaxy has a… way about it, sometimes.'

0o0o0

Traveling to the Lookout was a surreal experience for Krillin in the best possible way- familiar sensations lighted up and down his body, reminding him what it was like to be… human? Not sure I ever stopped. My soul was human, even if my body… hmm… when I die... I should talk with King Kai.

His white blip of a destination appeared in the distance. Which won't be anytime soon… right?

He snuffed his aura as his black boots tacced onto the tiles. The first thing he had done after getting his body back was re-patch and repair his gi after it had been hanging on or around Ginyu for a year. It didn't look brand new anymore, nor smell that way- it hadn't for years, actually- but, well, he wasn't exactly brand new, either.

Across the Lookout, he spotted the impromptu shelter resting above the remains of the central chamber.

'You're back.'

Piccolo's voice, precipitating the speaker by a few seconds, slid over to him from the ruins of the complex. The Namekian strode out, cape calm behind him, and stopped several feet away from him. 'And I see your body is, too,' he added, looking over him.

'I figured out a way to sort things out with the dragonballs,' Krillin said briskly.

One of Piccolo's brow ridges lifted. 'Is Ginyu gone, then?'

'His ship should be beyond the solar system by now, yes.' Krillin's expression shifted. 'How's Kami?'

Piccolo seemed to consider this information- he stared at Krillin- before breathing and glancing away. 'I've asked Korin and Mr. Popo to move him into the Pendulum Room.'

'What?' Krillin's face twisted. 'Why?'

Again Piccolo stared at him. 'If Katas was the one who influenced Kami, and is alive again,' Piccolo said, face tight, 'then we have no idea what he wants or what'll he do next. Could be that what he did to Kami was a one-time thing… could be that it wasn't. Either way, to protect both of us, Kami needs to be put somewhere where Katas can't access him as easily.'

'So the Pendulum Room?...' Krillin asked.

'It has… properties,' Piccolo said, his voice drifting. 'Blocks things from going in and out of the chamber. It's the best we can do, at any rate.'

'That's a roundabout way of saying we really shouldn't use the dragonballs unless we can avoid it, right?'

Piccolo frowned. 'Too many unknowns.'

'Good to know,' Krillin sighed. He noted Piccolo's oddly distant look. 'You're thinking about the spar, right?'

With a sudden duck of his head, Piccolo threw off his cap and cowl. They clunked to the ground a few feet away. 'Yes,' he said, his face betraying no emotion, as his right foot slid back.

'Here?' Krillin asked glancing around. 'Hasn't this place been through enough-'

His sound was drowned out by a rush of wind, and flickering, Krillin lifted one red-glossed arm and caught Piccolo's forearm strike. 'No warning!?' Krillin exclaimed, forearms pressing against each other. 'No warning at all!?-'

Krillin's crimson aura flashed as another strike, screaming in from his right, headed towards his legs; with a quick step backward, Krillin dodged the leg sweep and knocked away Piccolo's forearm with his knee.

But by the time he looked back to his opponent, he saw a fading outline, and a screeching rushing towards his right ear triggered a boost in his Kaioken. Ki roaring, Krillin spun and caught the fist with both hands. His fingers shook against the force of the blow as his feet skidded against the tiles. Piccolo wasn't kidding around!

Grimacing, Krillin decided to go on the offensive; Piccolo pulled in his fist, drawing Krillin in closer, but when he pulled back his other arm to ram into Krillin's gut, Krillin flattened his back to the ground and slid underneath Piccolo's legs. His red aura flared once more, burning strong enough to provoke an immediate twinge of pain from his muscles, and he stopped, pressed a hand to the ground, and launched backward, twisting and leading with a fist towards Piccolo's back.

Their fists met head-on, crashing into each other like puzzle pieces, and a shockwave rode out from their collision, flinging light and snarls of energy through the air. They glared at each other, blue aura pushing against red, until Krillin's red cloak abruptly vanished. Panting, he fell back onto his butt.

Piccolo looked on, fist outstretched, before his aura dropped and he stepped back.

'I'm a little… out of practice,' Krillin said, struggling to catch his breath.'

'So much so that you can't teach it?'

'Uh... no,' Krillin managed, 'I wouldn't say that…'

'We're done, then,' Piccolo said, crossing his arms. 'You've proven that you haven't forgotten King Kai's teaching over the last year.'

'You can… tell all that… just from that?'

Wordless, Piccolo stepped away, collected his cap and cowl- which had blown farther away during their brief spar- and pulled them on.

'Piccolo,' Krillin, huffing, called over to him. 'Be honest… you weren't really going to kill me if I didn't use the Kaioken, right?'

Slowly, Piccolo turned to him, and a smile- a wide, unconstrained smile- rested on his face. 'For both our sakes,' he said, 'I think it's best I didn't answer that.'

'Huh?..' Krillin frowned, trying to think that through, before giving up with a great big sigh and falling onto his back.

0o0o0

Some people would say inviting a stranger into what could be seen as a secret dungeon was a risky decision. But when Bulma's mind got rolling with problem-solving, she tended to ride with the ideas she came up with- no matter how outside of the box they were- until something catastrophic happened. So… She gestured to the guard at the desk and the final set of doors unlocked for them. Here goes nothing...

The man followed her and stopped alongside her at the one-way glass. Beyond it, Recoome was sitting in bed and staring at a wall, as per usual. Bulma noted with a pang of guilt that his musculature had shrunk considerably since coming to Earth.

'That him?' the man next to her asked.

'Yep.'

'Why's he down here?'

Uh oh. 'We had a leak upstairs in the main building,' she said diplomatically. 'This is one of our emergency guest rooms-'

'This a sex dungeon?'

'... No…' she said extremely slowly, because she wasn't sure if she could keep her voice at a human volume if she spoke any quicker. 'This is not. A sex dungeon, what...' she lapsed into muttering, not sure what to express of the many negative emotions burning through her. Shock? Indignation? Sheer anger to match his comment's stupidity? If she actually had a sex dungeon-

'You are Mark Satan, right?'

The man, his curly black hair cut extremely short over a taut, vertical, and mustached face, smiled as he turned to her. 'Just making sure,' he said amicably. 'I've been hired to do a lot of weird things- things I had to make clear that I wouldn't do when I showed up.' He turned back to the glass. 'So, I'll be upfront… no orgies.'

A sharp, cutting breath, done quickly to suppress a scream, seized Bulma. 'You-' she fumed. 'You absolute… oooh! Are you done!?'

To the man's credit, he remained serene and patient in the face of Bulma's growing fury. 'I've got no more questions,' he said. 'Just had to make sure.' He threw a look to her- a relieved look, Bulma saw. 'Thanks for not wasting my time today. I could really use the money.'

In that one look Bulma got an immeasurable measure of this man's humility; something that put his earlier questions in an entirely different context. It didn't change what she felt towards the idiot. But she now had a reason to tolerate him.

'Back to the matter at hand,' Mark said, drawing her attention back to the glass. 'You've said this man's been bedbound for a year?'

'About that,' Bulma replied, making sure nothing crept into her tone. He'll get one more chance…

'Sweet cripes.' Mark leaned forward, almost pressing his face to the glass. 'This guy's pretty big.'

'He used to be bigger, if you can believe it,' she replied. 'Think you can handle it?'

'Handle it?' Mark echoed, chuckling. 'I've handled men ten times as big as this guy in the ring. This'll be a piece of cake. I don't care if he's got no legs- I'm going to give him the best damn arms workout he's ever had, and then I'm going to teach him to walk! On those damn things!' he shouted, startling Bulma.

'Dear Kami,' she swore under her breath. 'This man…'

He stepped to the door, smacked his hands together and rubbed them. 'You got this, Herc-' he muttered loud enough to make Bulma wonder whether she a part of this one-person conversation. 'Do it…' his fist shot victoriously into the air. 'For Videl!'

Bulma balked at the bizarreness. Despite what she'd already suffered from this man, she couldn't help herself. 'Videl?'

'My baby girl, pride and joy,' he said, looking cool and calm over his shoulder at her. 'Now, if you'll excuse me…' He smoothed out his clothes. 'I've got a paycheck to earn.'

Bulma laid a hand over her left cheek, gaped, and limply pressed the door's entry button. Mr. Satan, with his showy gait and puffed out chest, sauntered into Recoome's room as if the whole world was watching.

But… there's just me and the guard, though… and he's reading the newspaper.

This is the first and last time I let a semi-professional wrestler within a hundred feet of Capsule Corp.

0o0o0

Whether it was by his hand or the happy chattering of his friends, word of an event of sorts spread far and wide. An informal agreement was made to meet at an old place to watch a demonstration, though the time and date had never been firmly established. Krillin half expected to be the only person there for a few days before people began to trickle in.

But as dropped from flight, descending towards a sparkling navy-blue sea stretching farther than Krillin could track, he made out a distinctive black dot made of people below- which wasn't preferable, because he hadn't wanted to be the last one to arrive. He would have liked to greet everyone one-by-one as they trickled in and slowly come to grips with what he had to do…

Ah, hell. I was going to face this eventually. How else are people going to learn? Maybe it's best to dive in, head first…

The crowd hushed; he spotted Tien, Launch, and Chiaotzu standing in a circle to the left, with Launch familiarizing them with the island. In the middle, Yamcha, Chi-Chi, and Rayne stood, eyes trained on him, ready to go. Towards the right, Retu, Suno, and Bez gazed at the ocean- and on the very edge of the island, half-hidden by rolling water, a turtle shell peered curiously back.

Everyone on Earth who could throw a proper punch, barring Piccolo, was here. Even Yajirobe, standing around bored way in the back, was in attendance. Krillin wondered who had flown him over.

Taking pains to avoid the overhead porch, he carefully landed on the Kame House doorstep and scanned the faces arranged towards him. Anyone who hadn't been looking his way before was certainly doing that now.

He glanced back at the house, touched a hand to the newly painted pink wood; he would have to thank Yamcha at some point.

'Alright…' he said slowly, turning back to them and testing his voice in the same motion. 'Today, or however long this takes… I'm going to show you, and, hopefully, teach you, something called the Kaioken.'

0o0o0

From the Lookout, time seemed to move quicker- as the year rolled over into the next, and then the one after that, Korin wondered how much of Kami's aging came from his watch spent here. He felt older, somehow- even though he had been made immortal for his job down in his tower- whenever he got a glimpse of the world below. People growing, aging, being born and dying… billions of people living their lives for however long they were. He frequently felt overwhelmed- but a part of him did feel that, if something like good "overwhelming" existed, it would probably look something like this.

That being said, he didn't see those things or feel that way often, or even occasionally; after two years, he was still learning how to make this damn place do what he wanted it to do. Sometimes, he was able to tap into whatever power was here and was able to look out on the world like he imagined Kami did; sometimes, all he got for his effort was a headache. One time he had even accidentally contacted King Kai- or he thought he contacted King Kai, because all he heard was the whoops of a monkey and the chirping of a cricket and he knew he wasn't aimed towards the Earth.

He, of course, had other notches on his imaginary belt from his residency here. He had been to every room, and though he didn't know what each one was for, he had Mr. Popo to answer that question whenever it might arise. His staff had touched every tile and wall, had been used alongside Yajirobe's labor to rebuild the main complex to its full glory, and rested as comfortably in his hands as it did at any time in his life. He had even made sure to grow a hardy reserve of senzu beans in his free time in a new plot in the gardens.

And yet he wasn't sure if he'd ever be a fully-fledged Guardian of Earth- or if that was even possible as long as Kami was still alive. Even though his coma hadn't broken, despite every senzu bean and magic tonic given to him, his life force clung to the mantle of Guardian. And it was clear, until or unless something happened… he wouldn't… ooof!-

A splitting pain gripped Korin's chest, forcing a sharp gasp from his lungs. Both his hands wrung around the staff to keep himself standing. 'What…' he panted, chest aching, and in the darkness he watched wisps of white fur float away from him. 'What the?...'

Gritting his teeth, Korin took a deep breath and tried to track the pain. He had grown very good at distinguishing sensation; what touches to ignore, which ones to examine further… but… something like this?...

In the endless shroud of muted night, not a single sound or light stirred atop the Lookout. Faraway stars, barely able to pierce the mist, clouds, and fog that rolled slow across the place's empty sparse surface, shined like dull spotlights upon ivory white tiles. Korin, a shade less white than almost everything around him, took another sharp gasp and slowly turned his attention to the night sky.

Stars. Some distant, some not. and some...

'Something's... coming…' Korin mumbled, unsure of what he would say until it had come out of his mouth. 'Something… someone?'


A/N: Hey all; sorry for a delay you probably weren't aware of. Considering this chapter's length, I could have cranked it out in a week… but, whatever. A week and a half ain't that bad.

In case I didn't make it obvious enough, a time jump is happening. I'm not super well-versed with doing them, so… we'll see how it goes!

Next time, we're starting Visions. See you then.

(also, added some power levels after the fact here before the time jump- also should emphasize that a person's position relative to everyone else is more important than their actual number.

Power Levels:

Tien: 45,000

Launch:18,000

Chiaotzu: 10,000

Yamcha: 30,000

Chi-Chi: 12,000

Rayne: 8,000

Bez: 15,000

Retu: 8,000

Suno: 15,000

Yajirobe: 5,000

Piccolo: 100,000

Krillin: ~15,000

Reviews:

TienFan99: Glad you liked it! Figured I had to make the backstory fairly expensive to justify it existing in the first place. I also hope it recontextualizes a lot of the interactions with the Namekians and Piccolo. More interesting on a second read, ya know ;).

As for whether this backstory is canon; I think you can go with:

1) it totally replaces canon's

2) totally in accord with canon

3) or a mix between the two

1) is pretty self-explanatory. The backstory is totally new and not in accord with canon. You can probably point to a few parts where it doesn't line up. Like as for why Guru dies early in this fic compared to canon- who knows! Maybe the arrival of visitors to Namek of any kind stresses and confuses him because it brings back a bunch of bad memories, and he dies. I dunno.

2) is where that backstory as depicted happens exactly in canon, and the only difference is that Katas never gets a chance to mess around with Kami in the afterlife (the reason for that being is that in canon, he only had a month to do evil stuff before Kami was revived- in this fic, he had about three or four) Without the chance to mess around with Kami, Katas never gets revived and eventually fades in Hell. The disaster spoken about by the Namekians in canon is a cover story for what actually happened, and Moori keeps his mouth shut about what he learned from Guru because he sees no reason to tell anyone (unlike here when he literally saw Piccolo consume a Namekian). Overall, I think the backstory is logical and contextual enough that you can make a case for this.

3) is where some of the backstory occurs, but not all of it. Cityracer points out a probable point of departure- it could be that the first attack on the Namekians in the past occurred, but the second one didn't, and as a result, Namekian culture went along its merry way. Some other planetary calamity happens (I'd guess overpopulation combined with climate change) and we get the as-shown thinning out of Namekian society. Guru rises as a leader during this crisis, Katas build a ship for his son and sends him away, and depending on if you see the movies as canon, Slug leaves and does nefarious shit in the wider galaxy.

This was around the time I planned to introduce the Kaioken to everyone beyond Krillin… but I had a different idea of how it'd be introduced compared to how it panned out. Also… here it begins, friend. Tien is getting that sweet Kaioken.

I think Tien/Yamcha would have probably won, but it would have been a lot closer. And, depending on the margin of victory, if Nappa sees that they're on death's door after a fight with a friggin' saibaman, he might grade them as having failed his test and kill them.

I'll try to live up that #1 distinction!

Perfect Carnage: Mission success.

Cityracer: As always, your feedback, both good or bad, is super appreciated. In fact, getting some critique from someone who almost always leaves positive reviews is a good reminder that my work in not a monolithic block of the same narrow band of quality, but in fact can range from extremely good or extremely meh depending on how I go about doing it. So thank you for your honest thoughts; they mean a lot to someone who edits what they write, week-in, week-out, and tries to decide if what I've got written down is the best they can do.

Before I start my mini-essay of a response, I will reiterate that last chapter was an experimental, one-time thing, and hopefully, you won't have the same issue with any chapter going forward.

With that out of the way… let me explain the potentially incongruous format and inclusion of that chapter.

The Namekian backstory is something I've been dancing around with since Chapter 46/47 or so. By the time I got to the last chapter (71), I felt that readers probably had a lot of questions about plot points surrounding the Namekian backstory; Why is Katas in hell? Why is he evil? What did Moori tell Piccolo and Nail? What's going on with Kami? What's with that weird absorption thing Piccolo did with Leera? Why did Moori and the Namekians react the way they did when that happened?

There also came a point around Chapter 56/57 or so that some readers noted the story was getting a bit scattershot. I looked at my work, agreed with them, and around that time I began to take a different approach to how I structured arcs. I realized that the stuff I was thinking of tying piece-meal into the Namek arc- Vegeta and Nappa's build-up and battle with Turles- could be handled with one or two focused chapters. So I pushed their content into this arc, and focused exclusively on the stuff going on Namek until that arc ended.

In the same vein, I didn't want to put too much distance in the story between all the question provoking plot points (those written out before) and the ultimate explanation of them. Thus, I wanted to give the Namekian backstory in its full form as soon as possible before the fic moves along to other topics. In other words, this was priority number one in writing this chapter: tie up lingering questions before moving onto other plot points/ questions.

I acknowledge that everything revealed wasn't super necessary to know at this juncture, but I faced a second issue/priority in this chapter: Piccolo's asymmetrical knowledge. Keep in mind that Piccolo knows all of this backstory from Moori before Chapter 71, and can make a pretty good guess as to what happened to Kami when factoring in his subjective experiences. So now I'm faced with a dilemma- going forward, how do I write Piccolo in such a way where I don't reveal what he knows while still giving peaks into his mind? Whatever he knows isn't and can't be divulged to the readers, as that'd make a real mess of asymmetrical knowledge with the humans.

I guess I could avoid this tangle because the Namekian backstory isn't relevant to the immediate future plot, and thus Piccolo has no reason to be thinking about that in the first place, but then we're faced with another issue: if we agree that Piccolo would see the logic of divulging what he knows to the humans to get them training again, how could he divulge some of what he knows but not everything? Piccolo isn't charismatic enough to say "you need to know X and Y, and that's it," without getting pushback from the others who want to know the full picture. Perhaps I could have written a scene where Piccolo tries to give them the abridged version, gets pushback, and then relents to divulging everything to them, but the end result would have been the same. To satisfactorily explain his theory as to what happened to Kami, he has to significantly go into the Namekian backstory. And insofar as that's true, I wanted to make that divulging engaging to read. Obviously, you weren't a fan of how it turned out, but I do think there were worse ways I could have presented and pumped out last chapter. Not defending it, of course, but considering the route I decided to take, I'm as satisfied as I could be with it. I got to give a cool origin to the present-day Namekians, speculate via Piccolo on the nature of the galaxy, and do an almost tragic arc of a victorious trio. Revealing information piece-meal makes doing those things harder.

My second-and-half priority- because the Namekian backstory is very stinkin' new, I felt the need to be very clear in giving it to the reader. Thus, information dump. Probably not necessary, but considering that this was my first non-canon introduction into the story, I erred on the side of caution. I probably won't do the same for the hypothetical second.

My third priority in writing out the backstory (which isn't super apparent, I think, because I have the behind-the-curtain fic look), is that knowing the Namekian backstory is important for future events. Right now, a given reader knows the basics about Katas's past, and can make some guesses as to what's relevant to him in the galaxy now that he's alive again. What are his current motivations? What does he want? Those are questions readers can ask now that know the Namekian backstory, and should frame events relevant to Katas when they arise. Can't say anything more without giving spoilers, but basically, I didn't want future questions to be based on previous unanswered ones. Again, this could have probably been revealed later in more detail, but then we're punting a big reveal/explanation farther down the road- and farther away from a bunch of scenes where I danced around it.

I'm glad you liked the content of the lore, though. Been holding onto that revelation for a looooong time and it felt good to finally drop it.

I agree with your assessment of the distinction between Raditz's arrival and Future Trunks'. I much prefer the later's due to all the reasons you outlined. If possible, I would have liked to go that route, but again, I felt that Piccolo had to do full disclosure or no disclosure at all. He wasn't a time traveler who worried that revealing too much might erase himself from existence.

My thoughts as to whether I think this backstory could be canon is written out in TienFan's review response above.

I read a few select chapters from BTtL to refresh myself on Bulma and Zarbon's relationship. I thought there was a lot more characterization of their relationship than there actually is. For the most part, canon's relationship between Vegeta and Bulma is implicitly used with a few Zarbon flourishes thrown on top. I think for the most part it works, though I think it fails the "passing/expanding of the torch" message I see as implicit in a lot of the DBZ storylines. Trunks, as Zarbon and Bulma's son, is supposed to do some amazing things in lieu of his parents… but I can't actually remember a single significant thing he did in the story. I guess he sacrificed himself for Future Break? But that was in a different timeline. Meanwhile, in canon, Trunks is a significant actor in the Buu Saga. So I think their relationship in the story could be improved by better utilizing either A) their relationship to affect the plot (which I don't think canon did for Bulma and Vegeta's, for the record) or B) their kid/kids.

Wow. This was really long. Apologize in advance (actually, retroactively!) for spelling and grammatical errors.