The Odyssey – 7

Let There Be a Firmament

XXX

"Trunks. Come on, you've got to get up." Pan shook his shoulder, trying to wake him. His breathing was labored and sandy blood covered half his face, matting also in his hair. Pan gasped when she saw him, and tried now to gently brush the clots and dust away.

Trunks groaned and stirred. Slowly, he came to and opened his eyes a crack. His head was swollen, the worst area being around the nasty gash by his left eye, where the alien had kneed him.

Pan supported his back with an arm and helped him sit upright. She knew they had to move, for the sun was high and scorching. It would burn them badly if they didn't seek cover, and with the ship gone, the only cover would be some sort of makeshift shade made by the blankets from their outdoor bed. She shook thoughts of the ship's loss from her head for the present, as the first order of business was helping Trunks.

"You okay?" Trunks croaked, his mouth parched and sandy.

"Shh-here, drink." Pan handed him a canteen full of water and Trunks guzzled thirstily. She cringed as he downed most of the water. Trunks needed the hydration she knew, but their supply was limited now.

The aliens had taken the Excalibur, leaving them stranded with only the things they had outside for their silly camping. The workbench remained, with the tools and broken part, the gas stove was there, their chairs, bed, blankets, some paltry snacks and four one-liter containers of water. Much of what they had was marginally useful, but Pan wished she could trade it all for more water.

"The ship's gone?" Trunks asked groggily, as he slowly stood up.

"Yeah, the yellow bastard stole it." Pan walked Trunks over to a chair, steadying him along the way. She grabbed a blanket and ripped some fabric off, got her water canteen ready and went to Trunks, "I need to clean your face."

Trunks touched it and winced, feeling the tightness of the dried blood and sand. It was tender, but he knew it had to be cleaned. Pan tried to be gentle as she dabbed and rubbed, trying too to conserve the water. She had been fortunate wit her injuries. Aside from some bruises and scrapes and a nasty spot on her neck where she had been chopped, she was undamaged.

She still fumed thinking of that yellow creep. Who was it, and where did they come from? She figured they were probably pirates of some sort and had taken advantage of a quick and easy bounty. But the one they fought was so strong. Both she and Trunks hadn't even hurt it at all.

Trunks looked better after he was clean. The gash next to his eye was deep, but clotted for now. It would probably scar, Pan realized. The areas around the cut were bruised purple and swollen.

"I'm sorry, Pan." Trunks said as Pan dabbed his face.

Pan figured she knew what he would say, but went along with him, "For what?"

"All of this – everything. I was too weak to beat that guy, and now our ship is gone. I had to rush him like an idiot and let him get me before I could even try to transform. But if I had only worked through the night like I should have, we could have been long gone now."

"It's not your fault." She said, rubbing his arm sympathetically. It would probably make him feel even worse to tell him that she had lasted a good deal longer against the thing than he had, so she decided not to mention it.

"I'm just glad you're okay." He said. Pan smiled at him, and went to throw away the bloody rag. Aren't we just pitiful, she thought. She was worried now about all this romance that had occupied them both these past weeks.

It was embarrassing to her warrior's pride to think of them weak, frolicking as lovers when they should be training and keeping their guard up. This disaster was a wake-up call, and a harsh one. Space was deadly, and all this foolishness could well get them killed.

Trunks went about the camp, taking inventory of what they had. He was trying to plan their next move. He too despaired about the water shortage, and felt horrible about drinking so much.

"What are you thinking?" Pan asked, coming to stand by him.

"We need to leave." He said at length, "I remember the scans for this side of the planet, and it's all barren desert. If we stay here, we're dead. Our only chance is to explore the other side of the world, and hopefully find help."

Pan had been afraid of this. Up until now, she had kept the issue away from her focus, worrying instead over Trunks and the supplies. But now the truth of their plight was cast in the stark, blinding light of this world's star, and it was grim.

"We'll gather what we can use of this stuff, and fly til dark. We need to pace ourselves so we don't run out of energy." Trunks set to work as he talked, examining the supplies and deciding what should stay or go.

Pan watched him with a smile. He may be badly out of fighting shape, but his mind was still the best. She felt a small tug of home for the first time since she had awakened from being knocked out, knowing that if anyone could get them out of this mess, it was Trunks.

They ended up with two knapsacks made from a blanket, filled with supplies. They were light and small enough to tie to their backs, like backpacks for the traveling. Any direction was good, since they didn't know the world, so they decided to fly in the opposite direction of the star, keeping it to their back. Pan knew that had they been moving on foot, they would have picked a direction that maintained the star's position for guidance, to assist navigation. But flying was far faster and more accurate, so they didn't worry about their heading.

The breeze was pleasantly cool on their sunburned faces, although they knew that windburn could be an irritating problem if they weren't careful. Miles upon miles of sand rolled away beneath them, all of it looking the same. Not one bush or rock did they see, and their spirits were beginning to falter. If the whole planet was like this, there was no hope. But they had to try, so on they flew.

At dusk, they stopped. They might miss something if they flew through the night, and they needed to conserve energy, so they decided to sleep and continue at sunrise.

The camp was meager and joyless, neither speaking much. Pan wanted to clean Trunks's wound again but he refused, citing the water shortage. They ate and drank a little, but remained hungry and thirsty as they tried to ration. Despair was beginning to call as the bright star set, and it took all of their effort to keep the negative thoughts at bay. Pan's neck ached and her burned skin tingled a fevered chill in the cold night air.

This was the scene for three more days. By day they flew and searched and hoped, tiring steadily as their supplies dwindled to nothing. At night they slept fitfully, both beginning to resign themselves to an agonizing death on this hellish planet.

They spoke very little, both short-tempered and remorseful. They cast no blame at the other, but were hating themselves for the careless frivolity of the first night. Had they just done what they should have, instead of pretending to be on vacation, none of this would have happened.

Near dark on fourth day, they saw something. What appeared to be a rocky hill glistened on the horizon, the radiating heat skewing the shape into waves. They wondered at first if it was a mirage, but decided to check it out regardless. After seeing nothing but sand for so long, this hill gave a small rise of hope.

It was no mirage. As they drew nearer, the haze began to clear and the hill took shape. It was a large mound of packed earth and stone, blue-gray in color, rounded like an ant hill. They landed and inspected it. It was strange to see in the midst of all the sand.

But there was nothing special about the mound, just a pile of earth. They had wondered if it might be a burrow for some creatures, or even the entrance to an underground civilization. But there were no holes or cracks in the hill, no entrances or seams. Giving up, they both slumped down against the dirt, weary and disappointed.

"I guess we're going to die here." Pan said, stating the fact with a resigned finality. Trunks said nothing, too drained to try and protest or raise her spirits. He hated himself now more than he had these past few days. If he had just done his job and fixed the damned ship... But he was too tired even to focus on his misery for long.

Pan and Trunks sat, watching the star set slowly, darkness creeping upon them as they sat silently and wondered what it would feel like to die this way. No valiant end from a good fight, or a pleasant departure due to old age would find them now. They would just waste away on this desert world, with nothing to mark their passing but sand.

Pan thought of her mother and had to struggle to keep tears from forming. She couldn't spare the water. How stupid and selfish she had been to leave her like she did. Her father might be in trouble, but he was a Saiyan – one of the most powerful people alive. Videl was strong, but she was only human, and Pan had left her alone and bereft. She wondered if her mother felt the way she did now – alone in the world, and lost.

The tears finally fell, Pan unable to stop them. Her emotions had been a wreck these past days anyhow, and in her weakened state, there was no predicting or controlling them. Trunks noticed her cry and grimaced in agony. He hoped she was blaming him, the way he blamed himself.

He reached out to her and pulled her into his chest, holding her tightly. She didn't sob or weep, but the tears continued to flow. Pan wanted to tell Trunks that she didn't fear death out here, and was only regretting her treatment of her mother, but she didn't have he energy to defend her pride. Let him think what he wants, it won't matter anyway.

A shuffling in the dark woke them both. They had fallen asleep against the dirt mound, still clinging to each other. It was always a restless, fitful sleep lately, and the feint noise roused them easily. They sat up, staring across the dim, moonlit sands.

They heard the rustling again, closer now. Standing up, they scanned their surroundings, wary for trouble. Then to their right, a wan light began to glow. It was a yellow light, brighter and more distinct than the moonlight.

Excited now, Pan and Trunks dashed around the side of the mound, hopeful to see what was producing the glow. They continued around the side of the hill, the light growing brighter as they neared it's source.

A barrage of noises stopped them. All around them, they heard alien cries and calls. The sounds were unintelligible; clicks, pops and warbles coming from several sources. They wondered if these were animals or intelligent aliens. The light source ahead of them began to move, drawing nearer.

Finally, four aliens rounded the corner and stood facing Trunks and Pan. They were short and thin, with wrinkly, pink skin and bulging eyes. But they wore clothes, all four dressed alike in tattered red pants and white shirts, and one held it's hand aloft, a glowing orb of ki energy producing the light they had seen.

Pan and Trunks were dumbfounded and speechless for several moments, staring at these aliens with a roiling broth of emotions. The four aliens stood, speaking with one another in their strange, bouncy language. They were obviously discussing the two and wondering what to do about them.

Trunks and Pan stood still, trying not to be seen as threatening. The aliens looked frail, but they could obviously control their ki, and were likely an advanced species. The last thing the two wanted was to scare their potential saviors away.

Eventually, one of the pink aliens broke away from the pack and cautiously approached Pan and Trunks. It moved slowly and eyed them warily. Stopping a few paces away from Trunks, it stared for a moment then raised a hand, palm facing Trunks.

Trunks wondered briefly if the thing was going to try to blast him, but the body position and gesture looked innocuous enough. The alien nodded, indicating Trunks reciprocate the gesture. He slowly raised his own hand, stopping it in front of the alien's.

The creature seemed approving, and moved his hand to meet Trunks's. The pink skin was cold and dry. They stood like that for a moment, Trunks figuring this to be a sign of greeting. He smiled hopefully, trying to convey his pleasure at the meeting.

The alien maintained contact for a while longer, it's face and eyes flickering slightly. Trunks was wondering what was going on, and was about to say something when the alien broke the contact. It took a step back, smiled and spoke.

"Greetings, strangers." It said in a thin, croaking voice.

"You speak our language?" Trunks asked excitedly.

"I do now." The alien said, "I just learned it from you. My name is Ropa. What is yours?"

Trunks was speechless for a moment, staring at Ropa with wonder, "Trunks. Pleased to meet you. This is Pan."

Pan smiled and nodded at Ropa. She and Trunks were bursting with questions, but neither wanted to spook these strange aliens. What a wondrous ability, to learn a language by touch. What else could they do?

"You are both welcome here if you mean no harm. Why are you on this planet?" Ropa asked, looking at them curiously.

"We landed a few days ago to repair our ship, but it was stolen from us. We've been wandering the desert since then." Trunks said.

"Stolen? By whom?" Ropa asked.

"Big yellow bastard." Pan blurted, "He was strong. We tried to fight, but he beat us."

Ropa eyed them further for a while before speaking, "It is surprising you are alive. I know that one, and he is very powerful. He is responsible for the destruction of our world. There are few of us remaining now, but I welcome you. We are the Yardrat."

XXX

Gohan tensed his muscles and summoned his ki. His aura pulsed as a white flame, flaring with blinding intensity around him. The energy suffused his every cell, injecting raw power and iron strength. Bolts of white energy crackled around him like lightning, dancing across his skin. The power was awesome.

Cael looked on, a satisfied grin on his face, "You are finding your power again, Gohan. This is the first step, and although we are not yet finished with the process, you have grown mighty indeed."

Gohan stood in the midst of his own inferno, looking at his hands as the electric arcs jumped between his fingers, "It feels different."

He was yet to reach his peak again, but already there was a very different feeling to his energy. It seemed somehow more concentrated, more pure even.

"You are truly beginning to draw into the wellspring of your potential." Cael said.

"I know, but the Elder Kai unlocked my hidden power before, and it didn't feel like this."

"Do not forget that you are retraining yourself, Gohan. As you revisit your past, you are taking full advantage of your ki. This training will unleash the purest, most perfect form of yourself. If I had to guess, I'd say that when we revisit your training with the Kais, we will witness a truly remarkable thing." Cael grinned as he spoke, an eager fire of his own burning in his eyes.

Gohan had watched him closely these past months, looking for any more hints about the old man's history. He had acted very strange during their first revisit to Gohan's past, almost like he knew his friends and father. But Cael had been careful to display no further signs of recognition.

Several times Gohan had asked about Cael's strange incident, but he refused to address the topic at all. He was here to train Gohan, not tell his own life story. He said he may explain himself to Gohan when he was ready, but not before. More mystery and fog, Gohan thought. But he couldn't deny these results.

He and Cael had watched as Gohan traveled to Namek, fighting Frieza's goons and eventually Frieza himself. Cael had nearly slipped again as he watched Vegeta die. The old man stared wide-eyed as the Saiyan Prince told Goku of his past; of the destruction of Planet Vegeta, his slavery under Frieza and the legend of Super Saiyan. He looked cold and grim as Vegeta died and Goku buried him.

"We will return to this moment." Cael told Gohan, but would answer no questions why.

They observed the battle with Garlic Jr. and with the androids, although Gohan had little to do during the latter. The threat of Cell was upon them next, and soon Gohan and Goku would enter the hyperbolic time chamber to begin their training.

"That room is a dimensional bridge." Cael had explained, "It taps into the very fabric of Fuilar."

"You mean the room takes you here?" Gohan asked.

"Not exactly. It does draw upon Fuilar's constants of Motion and Flux however, lending the room it's special properties of time and space."

"Can we access it from here?" Gohan asked. He knew the hyperbolic time chamber was an alternate dimension, but he felt somehow that if he could visit such a familiar place, it would feel a little more like home.

"Yes, but it is not the same as the entrance you have on Earth." Cael said, "The Earth's portal deposits the visitor into one of the milder realms of that dimension. Most of the rest is far more brutal and harsh. If we were to visit from here, the gravitational forces would destroy us instantly. That dimension is a black hole, Gohan. The Earth's portal leads to an outer section of the event horizon, where space and time are warped, but not as horribly as deeper into the core."

A black hole? That made sense, Gohan thought, drawing upon his memory of them. "How do you know all that?" He asked. Even the most brilliant scientists on Earth had little more than theoretical knowledge of them.

"It is unimportant, but on my world there was another portal to that realm, leading to a similarly mild outer rim of the hole. There are several such portals in this galaxy alone."

"And I suppose you're not going to tell me what your home world is." Gohan said, annoyed. Cael always surprised him with his knowledge or actions; it was killing him to learn about the old man.

"No. It isn't important – at least not yet. Now focus, Gohan. From what you have told me, I gather you reached Super Saiyan in the time chamber. This is a pivotal step in your progression, and you must pay attention." Cael bid Gohan begin the revisiting trance. He closed his eyes, gathered his thoughts and feelings and accessed his past.

They came to in the time chamber. Gohan hadn't expected to feel the gravity in here, but he did. It was negligible to him, but noticeable. He glanced around at the portal shrine, remembering the difficult, but magical time he had here.

He looked out into the expanse of white nothingness, remembering Cael's words about this being the event horizon of a black hole. It was so surreal, but somehow fit together in his mind. Nobody really knew what lie beyond the event horizon, and indeed some of the wilder speculations posited the hole leading to other dimensions or other universes entirely. Gohan wondered if he should write a paper on this if he ever made it home.

A rogue energy blast flew by, snapping him out of his daydreaming. His father and his young self came into view, powered up and sparring furiously. The young Gohan's face was contorted in severe concentration and effort, while Goku wore almost a smile as he sparred with his son.

Gohan recalled the annoyance this used to bring, knowing his father was only toying with him. He always begged him to go harder, thinking that if Goku went all-out, it would force him to improve. Goku always insisted that he was working him hard enough to get stronger, but not so hard as to injure him.

Gohan smiled now as he watched them go at it. He felt the boy's energy in flux, still as adolescent and immature as the boy was. He willed the young man to relax and focus, trying to convey the mentality needed to improve. Of course this wouldn't really help the apparition before him, but by retraining his past self in this way as he went, his own power was learning.

The image before them began to reflect Gohan's focus, as the boy stopped, took a deep breath and accessed the situation. Gohan felt the change as the childish urgency and stress fell away, replaced by a calm and determined mindset.

Goku was closing in, and the young Gohan shifted into a back stance, watching his father for the perfect strategic moment. Right now Goku was charging full-tilt, trying to spook Gohan with his intensity. But the boy knew that he would reduce his energy at the last moment, so as to not hit him with his full strength. Gohan reached out with his ki, feeling the power level of his father, and waiting.

Goku yelled just as he was about to strike, using the scream to scare Gohan and mask his own energy reduction. Gohan felt the drop in power and, ignoring the yell, used the split-second before Goku struck to channel all his energy into his fist, dodge the weak kick, shoot beside his father and punch him with all he had in his side.

Goku's eyes widened with shock as the blow landed, sending him spiraling across the floor. He lay gasping for several moments, clutching his ribs in pain. Gohan ran to his father, worried and apologizing for hitting so hard.

Goku grinned through clenched teeth, beaming up at his son with pride. He wasn't hurt, just the wind knocked out of him, and he soon rose and clasped a hand on Gohan's shoulder, "You win, Gohan. No more kid gloves."

Young Gohan grinned and jumped back into stance. Cael and Gohan watched as the two fought. The time was coming soon when Gohan would reach Super Saiyan. He was curious about what this would do to his recovering power, as already he was far stronger than a Super Saiyan, although he hadn't yet recovered that technique.

"Cael, will I become a Super Saiyan again when my younger self does?" Gohan asked.

"You already have that ability, Gohan. You have experienced that burning need for the power before, and your body remembers the feeling of accessing that channel of energy. Maybe you will learn a deeper aspect of your energy when your youth discovers that power, but for now it is of no real concern. Just watch carefully, and study."

"How do you know that the Super Saiyan transformation comes in response to a need? I never told you that." Gohan eyed Cael, knowing that now he had to explain himself. There was no pretending that that slip didn't happen.

"It does not matter now." Cael said.

"Yes it does." Gohan said, "I can't focus on my training if I'm wondering about you. You know things about my family, and you know about becoming a Super Saiyan. Who are you?"

Almost as if to emphasize Gohan's point, they saw the oblivion of the time chamber fade away, the landscape of Fuilar returning to take it's place. Cael sighed and looked at Gohan hard, studying him.

"Perhaps you're right." He said, "You can't focus if your attention is divided. I meant to wait until you were progressed further, but I suppose the time has come to reveal myself."

Gohan watched as Cael closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He stood like this for a while, and Gohan recognized the trance meditation he had been using for training. And indeed after a few moments, the world of Fuilar fell away and they were somewhere else.

The sky was dark red and clouded, and Gohan wondered for a moment if they were back on Mourd. But in the distance, several tall, white buildings loomed. There was nothing like this on Mourd. Gohan saw that they were standing on a platform which was attached to the top of a tall stone cliff. There was a doorway cut into the cliff face, and Cael walked towards this entrance.

The old man's face was strained as he looked around the world. Gohan saw in his eyes longing, pain and nostalgia. They were some of the same sensations he himself had felt when he returned to Earth that first time, and experienced his childhood again.

Within the cave was a sparsely furnished dwelling, utilitarian and bleak. Cael looked around at the room, studying the bare furnishings.

"Is this your home?" Gohan asked.

"It was, long ago." Cael said, running his hand over a battered chest that sat at the foot of the bed.

"Where is this?" Gohan asked. Cael looked at him and smiled sadly.

"How I wish you knew, Gohan. It pains me that things had to unfold the way they did, but even the strongest among us cannot tell what tomorrow will bring. This is the planet Vegeta."

Gohan stared in shock, looking with new intensity out into the red sky. Planet Vegeta was the home world of the Saiyans, he knew. This was his ancestral home!

"So...you're a Saiyan?" Gohan asked at length, studying Cael.

The old man nodded, "I am."

Gohan was about to follow up with more questions, but someone landed on the platform outside. The man entered the dwelling and Gohan gasped. It was Cael. He was much younger, with short, black hair and intense dark eyes. He looked so similar to Gohan, save for the clothes. A red cape billowed behind him, attached to black and gray armor of the same style as Vegeta used to wear. His tail was coiled around his waist.

The young Cael opened the chest at the foot of the bed and pulled his chest-plate off, placing it within. As he closed the lid, someone else landed outside.

"Cael, I urge you to reconsider." The voice sounded oddly familiar to Gohan. And as the new arrival entered the room, Gohan discovered why. At first he thought it was Vegeta. The man had the same hair and facial structure. But as he looked closer, he saw that this person was taller, darker and wore a beard.

"My King, I have given you my answer. I do not desire to train the boy. My power is not something that can be taught – it is in my bloodline alone." The young Cael said.

Gohan looked at them in wonder. Cael had called the man King. Did that mean that this was King Vegeta?

"You may be the guardian of this planet Cael, but I am King. You are a friend to me, but I will command you to train my son if I must." King Vegeta said, his face drawn into a look Gohan had seen so many times on Vegeta.

Cael was silent for a while, staring at Vegeta, "Then you will have to command me. But do not forget what I have told you: the Prince will be a powerful fighter, but he will never possess my gift. I know you want your son to inherit the legendary power, but I beg you not to fill his head with false hopes. No amount of training can alter his fate."

King Vegeta snorted derisively at the remark, turned and walked to the door, "I expect you to begin tomorrow."

Gohan watched the King fly away. The younger Cael sat on his bed for a moment, staring through them into the deep, red sky. After a while, he pulled from his pocket an intricate silver bangle. He held the bangle, staring at it with sadness and remorse. Gohan heard Cael inhale sharply beside him. The old man was staring at the silver bracelet with such torment and grief that Gohan had to turn away.

XXX

Videl arrived at Bulma's just before seven. From her view in the sky, it appeared that everyone was already there, milling around in the back courtyard. Bulma had really gone all out, and Videl wished she felt more like partying. There was a canopy set up in a corner of the yard, with several tables laden with food and drinks. A very nice PA system was pumping some music that Videl could hear from several meters away, but not so loud as to drown out the sound of laughter and reunion amongst old friends. She felt like an intruder as she landed; an alien from the outside, come to wreck the fun.

She knew she had to tell them all about Gohan, but was dreading it. The news must be given, for to omit such an important thing would be downright wrong of her. They all loved and cared for Gohan too, and they would want to know if he was gone. Videl would wait for the right moment to land the blow, and not just blurt it out immediately. That would be rude as well. Let them all enjoy themselves for an evening, before having to be slapped by reality.

"Hey, Videl!" Bulma yelled over the din of voices, waving her arm. She beamed a surprised smile at Videl as she landed, surprised to see her show up.

"Hi Bulma." Videl said in the most upbeat tone she could muster, returning the woman's smile of greeting. Bulma came over and wrapped Videl in a hug, and the younger woman smelled the traces of wine and expensive perfume.

"I am so glad you made it! I was afraid you wouldn't show, but this is the best! You want something to eat, or drink? I've got all kinds of stuff around here, so you go ahead and get whatever you want." Videl smiled as Bulma talked, for it was obvious that she already had a bit of an alcohol buzz going on.

Videl made her way around the guests, speaking with friends and doing her best to stay chipper. It was odd, but she found that forcing herself to be upbeat was actually helping her mood some. The smile she had plastered to her face was slowly becoming more genuine by the minute.

Everyone asked how she was doing, and tried to be supportive. She answered their questions and thanked them for their kind thoughts, but made sure to keep steering the subject away from her troubles and onto pointless small-talk or inquiries about the well-being of the others. She asked about Goten a lot, since he wasn't in attendance, but nobody had heard from him.

It soon became obvious that half the people there had been at the drinks for a few hours now, and some were rather tipsy. Master Roshi and Krillin were trying to figure out how to get some karaoke going, and Yamcha was trying to flirt with some of the catering staff.

It felt nice to be in this atmosphere, and Videl was glad she had come, although she couldn't shake the feeling that she was an outsider. Her only connection to these people had been Gohan, and although they had all taken her in as family, and continued to treat her as such, without him around, she felt a little out of place. She knew this was silly, for since Pan had been born she was officially a part of the Son family. But the feeling remained.

"Mind if I sit with you?" She asked Vegeta, who was sitting alone at a table, nursing a beer.

The Saiyan looked up at her with a bemused half-scowl before grunting, "It doesn't concern me, where you sit."

Videl thanked him and took a seat. Vegeta eyed her curiously, but said nothing. She ate her food, and watched the people around them. It was nice to sit here in silence, without the pressure to talk. Vegeta didn't expect or want Videl to engage in conversation, and the mutual peace and quiet set her at ease. The two of them looked around the party, sipping their drinks and grinning at the drunken guests having fun. Videl decided that Vegeta was a decent guy after all, despite what people said about him.

As the party progressed, Videl realized that it would be nearly impossible to tell them all about Gohan now. Most of the guests were getting more and more intoxicated, and probably couldn't process the information even if she told them. And they were having so much fun, she didn't know if she had the heart to break the sad news. She hung her head in despair, wondering what to do. Could she really just leave and not say anything?

She didn't notice, but Vegeta had been watching her for a few moments. To her surprise, he spoke, "Have you had any word about Gohan?"

Her head shot up when she heard him, startled by his question. She shook her head, still staring at the ground. She was silent for a moment, but for some reason felt like telling Vegeta what she knew, "He's gone, Vegeta. I...felt him die." The Saiyan stared at her in shock, speechless from the surprise.

"What did you say?" Videl heard a gruff voice demand, and she looked up to see Piccolo standing a few paces away, staring at her now wide-eyed. He walked over to their table, face drawn.

"Gohan is dead, Piccolo. I felt him pass a few weeks ago." Videl watched the pain cross the big Namek's face, and she hated it for him. She knew how close he and Gohan had always been.

"How do you know this?" Vegeta asked.

"I've always had a connection with Gohan." She explained, "Even after he was taken away, I could feel him in my heart. But now, he's just not there."

Piccolo stood silently for a time, his mouth agape with the news. Vegeta had composed himself, and said nothing else. Videl could see the shock in his eyes still, and knew that in his own way he was grieving the loss of his fellow Saiyan.

"I can't believe this." Piccolo said finally as he stared at the ground with fists clenched by his side, "All this time, I just knew he would be okay somehow. And what about Pan?"

Videl stared silently at Piccolo for a second, trying to find the right words. Her pained look must have been revealing however, because she saw the Namek's face contort again in understanding. He knew what she was going to tell him, and he cursed between clenched teeth at the realization. Vegeta stared intently at the two.

"They're still out there, looking for Gohan." Videl said at length, solidifying what Piccolo had already guessed.

Piccolo grunted in anger, and Videl empathized with his look of desperation and frustration. She had already been down this road, so many times.

"We've got to do something." He growled, "We can't just let her and Trunks stay out there chasing around."

A little late for interventions, Videl thought. They had been through all of this when the kids took off in the new Capsule ship, discovering that it moved too fast to be caught up with. The only hope was Goku's instant transmission technique, but he was nowhere to be found. Piccolo and Dende had tried everything to find him, but had been unsuccessful. He was off training in another dimension, beyond the reach of everyone.

"What can we do now that we haven't tried already?" Videl asked. Piccolo knew she was right, and growled.

"What about the Dragonballs?" They turned to see Krillin standing nearby, his face drawn with worry. The poor guy was drunk and obviously was finding it difficult to keep his balance. He looked at them all, blinking through the alcohol fog. He had overheard the conversation as he passed by, and was trying to get his act together to help, "We can wish Gohan back, right?"

No, no don't get your hopes up, Videl said to herself. It will hurt too badly, just don't do it to yourself.

"They can't help Gohan." Piccolo said, looking down.

"Why not?" Krillin asked, stumbling over his own weight.

Piccolo looked at the little man with a grimace, trying to find a way to tell him that he would understand through his stupor, "Gohan probably died on Mourd. If you wish someone back to life with the Dragonballs, they revive that person right where he died. Gohan would be right back on that planet. Whatever he endured there, he would have to go through again. He would just be killed again anyway."

They were all silent as this thought sank in. Videl swallowed hard, fighting the rising lump in her throat. She had been trying all this time to not think of what suffering Gohan may be enduring on that hellish planet, but this brought it all into light. She gritted her teeth in helpless anger, wishing with all her might that she could have helped him somehow. What had he been through?

Maybe...maybe he's finally better now, she caught herself thinking. The thought startled her. But if Mourd was really as bad as Vegeta thought, maybe in death Gohan was better off; at rest now after his ordeal.

I've got to stop being selfish, she thought. If I can't have him back, I at least want him to be in peace and happy. Even if it means I'll never see him again, it's better if he's off that planet.

"We could use them to bring Pan and Trunks back though." Piccolo said at length. Videl's head shot up to stare at him, tears fresh in her eyes. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt hope - real, honest hope.

XXX

Author's Note: Here we are at the end of another chapter, and once again I thank everyone who has read, reviewed and followed this thing! This marks the end of the chapters that I had written prior to posting, and the next one will be a bit different I think. I recently read On Writing by Stephen King, and some of the advice and tips in that book slapped me in the face. I realize that I am very guilty of a few fatal flaws in my work, above and beyond what I already knew, so I'm going to make an effort to do things differently. Maybe it will work, maybe not. But stay tuned people, and I hope to see you next week!