A magical carpet carrying a black djinn and a young Namekian halted from a speedy blitz and hovered above an abandoned patch of sandy land, surrounded by rice fields. The desolate place had a few houses on it, with the largest one reading "Dojo" on it. When the flying carpet stopped and Dende got used to the environment that they found themselves in, he began looking around and sensing the area for a trace of Namekian magic that would have betrayed the location of the Dragon Ball.
"Hmm…" Dende looked troubled when he jumped off of the carpet and approached the dojo building. They've already collected five Dragon Balls by that point. Their quest was nearing its end. Then they would have to conceal the Dragon Balls and keep them away from Baby. By now they've learned to only resurrect people deceased by the current threat to Planet Earth after the threat passes. Baby seemed to have gotten desperate and angry, making him unpredictable. Not to mention, he also carried great pain within him. While that made him more grounded, it also made him even more dangerous. "I think the Dragon Ball is inside that dojo…"
Mr. Popo leaped off the magical carpet with a frontal flip and gracefully landed on the ground with his arms tucked behind his back. With a dull look, he approached the door and slid it open without having to open it with his hands. Dende exclaimed something unintelligible, worried that Mr. Popo's boldness might have gotten them into trouble with the locals. They were still the Earth's guardians, meaning that they shouldn't have harmed or discomforted anyone they came across on their quest for the Dragon Balls.
A handful of men in a white dogi, wearing colored belts, turned to the two strange visitors. In front of them stood a perky teen with messy and short black hair. The martial artists and the owner of the dojo alike both stared at Dende and Mr. Popo, waiting for them to state the purpose for which they'd come here. Almost immediately, an orange marble with one red star positioned at the center caught Dende's attention.
"Ah, the Dragon Ball!" Dende pointed at the marble. "Excuse us, but we direly need this Dragon Ball!"
"Say what?" a muscular martial artist in a white dogi got outraged by this declaration. "That's bold, coming from some sort of fiend and his exotic friend!"
"For your information, this jewel belongs to the dojo! It is its sacred relic!" Another martial artist stepped in front of Mr. Popo and the Dragon Ball that was placed upon a plain wooden pedestal. The rice farmers training in martial arts here lacked even the luxury of a pillow, choosing instead to put the One-Star Dragon Ball on top of a handful of potato sacks to soften its base and prevent it from rolling off the wooden stand.
Mr. Popo looked up at the burly man obstructing his path. Even though Mr. Popo said nothing and there wasn't even a hint of malice in his eyes, the man shook and staggered back, taking up a fighting pose that he intended to use to defend himself if this strange visitor decided to attack and try to take the Dragon Ball by force. The young woman vaulted off of the front of the dojo, soaring across with a flying kick, but Mr. Popo merely leaned back and effortlessly avoided it without having to look at the spunky fighting girl.
"This dojo belonged to my family! They left for the city for food and supplies one day and never returned. The city was destroyed by infernal machines landing from the sky! Ever since that day, it was up to me to manage the dojo. No one wanted to train at a dojo managed by a child. One day, I found this starry jewel in the rice fields and brought it back here. Since that day, more and more martial artists have shown up. It has brought fame and good fortune to this gym and this village!" the perky teen proclaimed, adopting a fighting pose and joining her much taller and burlier pupil in a stand against Mr. Popo.
"This may be so," Dende pleaded. "But if you keep this Dragon Ball, it will attract the same doom that befell the city your parents left for. More aliens are after this Dragon Ball and it is only a matter of time until they find it. In fact, we're in a race against them to collect the Dragon Balls before they can even begin their search. We are emissaries from God and this Dragon Ball is actually the creation of my predecessor!"
"You mean it comes from the sky? Like those machines that killed my parents?" The young woman turned back and glared at the One-Star Dragon Ball with disgust.
"A benevolent alien race made it. Not one that came here intending to invade, but yes. It is not of earthly origin…" Dende replied, only for the young woman to grab the Dragon Ball and fling it at him. The orange marble stopped in mid-air and slowly flopped into Dende's hands, controlled by the young Namekian who had become the last of the Namekian Dragon Clan and carried all their powers within him, just like Piccolo carried the legacy of the Namekian Warrior Clan.
"Leave!" the owner of the dojo demanded. "Nothing good ever comes from the sky!"
Dende hovered into the air while Mr. Popo jumped as high as the clouds, only for the magical carpet to swoop below them and pick them up, carrying them off toward the horizon. At the same time, Dende put the One-Star Dragon Ball back into the sash and pulled out the spare Dragon Radar that Bulma built for them while she was hiding in the God Temple. Dende's look became somber and his eyes moistened.
"These poor people. They've endured so many disasters that they've come to distrust everything that comes from the sky, no matter if it is good or bad. Divine or demonic. The Evil Clan, the Saiyans, Lord Slug, the Artificial Humans, the Machine Mutants, and now Baby… What's even worse, sometimes allies wear the faces of the enemy, like Piccolo not looking too different from Demon King Piccolo or Lord Slug, while sometimes enemies wear the faces of our allies, as with Baby Vegeta… Despite being our friend, Vegeta has threatened this planet more times than these people saw him as its protector…" Dende spoke up with a sorrowful tone.
Mr. Popo didn't respond. Mr. Popo just kept on looking forward with the same blank stare.
"Kami Upa-san has done much more for these people than his predecessor, he's sheltered them and he personally steps down from his tower to fight for them when he can. However, I can't help but wonder if we should somehow tell these people more than they know. Maybe then they would understand?" Dende looked at the unwavering back of Mr. Popo and his quickly fluttering vest, but Mr. Popo didn't respond. Mr. Popo just kept on looking forward as the magical carpet blitzed toward the location of the final Dragon Ball.
"Hey, let me pitch now," a lean and tall young man with a sleeveless sports shirt and long blond hair raised his hand while the gym coach was picking from kids to play baseball. It wasn't a game of teams, like baseball usually was. Kids as young as Gohan's class were still mastering the rules and the moves of the game, learning the basics, to run and to slide, to pitch and to bat correctly. Instead of separating the kids into teams, the coach merely chose kids out of the bunch to perform certain moves.
"Sharpner?" the coach tilted the beak of his cap. "You've batted and ran today already. No need to tire yourself out…"
"Gee, you're really itching to stick it to that Saiyan, aren't you, Sharpner?" a round and unusually tall for his age young man laughed out, slamming his wide hand at Sharpner's back in encouragement. "You should let him go, coach. Sharpner would have gone to Orange Star Middle School this year if it weren't for the Machine Mutant invasion toppling the city down. He's got frustrations to vent…"
"My gym isn't a place for you to settle your differences. Fine, take to the field. But I'm warning you… If I see one bit of your shtick I don't like, I'm pulling you out and failing you! If you fail P. E. in Central City Mid, you can kiss that Orange Star City scholarship of yours goodbye," the coach crossed his arms.
"Hey, can we hurry and play?" Gohan, wearing a wrongly secured and dangling helmet over his head and wound up with his baseball bat, hurried the game along. "I haven't earned my grade for today yet!"
"Hmph… You wouldn't need it if you didn't hold back so much and acted like a buffoon in class!" Videl crossed her arms with a sneer while Giru hovered by her side. It was odd how few people questioned a hovering white robot, but Giru looked so little like the Machine Mutant heavy machinery that invaded the eastern part of the continent that no one batted an eye or questioned him too much. Videl could wave it off as being the latest Capsule Corps invention, and people already knew her family was rich enough to afford something like that.
After her brief talk with Giru, it didn't feel right to deactivate him or to keep him stuffed in the backpack for the whole day.
Sharpner stepped out in front and put his leg up. With a pitch that began textbook and silky smooth, but turned with a snap at the end, Sharpner pitched what should have been the perfect ball, if it weren't awfully off-mark. A helm-splitting crack made the students tuck their heads and chins and wince from the gruesome noise. Oddly enough, Gohan didn't as much as flinch when the ball hit him square in the forehead, slipping under the helmet, and then fell to the ground.
"What the shit, brat!?" the coach cursed and smacked his cap into the dirt. "I told you–no funny business!"
Sharpner's wide eyes couldn't believe how little effect the ball had on Gohan. While Sharpner had heard that Saiyans were much tougher than ordinary humans, one never imagined something like this being possible before they saw it. The blond and athletic youth sighed and began shrugging, unintelligibly excusing himself before the coach, who looked like he was ready to skin the brat alive.
"Hey, what's the holdup?" Gohan grumbled with a pout. "That's just the strike-one, right? He's still supposed to pitch two more times. I still haven't made my grade for today!"
Deep down, Gohan couldn't stop cheering for himself. This foul was just perfect for him! If he struck the first ball, he'd have shown himself off too much and earned a perfect grade. While his mother would've been over the moon about it, the other kids would've only cranked up the hatred on him and Videl out of jealousy. With Sharpner intentionally flunking the first throw, if he missed the second one and then struck it on the third–he'd earn a passing grade. Just good enough to pass, but nowhere near perfect. Just like Gohan wanted it!
Taken aback and emboldened by Gohan's declaration, Sharpner grabbed another ball, rolled to him by the other players, and prepared to pitch. With his teeth gnashed, Sharpner pitched a perfect throw that everyone knew he was capable of, proving without a shadow of a doubt that his previous foul was no fluke, but an intentional attempt at cracking Gohan's skull. Gohan swung the bat almost cartoonishly too late.
"Come on, kid! Even my dead granny has a better reaction time! Are you sure you're not concussed or something? You should go see the nurse…" the coach grumbled, picking up and fondling his cap while he approached and checked Gohan's forehead for a fever and examined the movement of his eyes with his index finger.
"Nope, all good, coach! The pitch was just really fast!" Gohan snickered, grinning with a sheepish smirk.
As expected, Sharpner's third pitch was perfect. Gohan did not respond in kind. Despite the blazing speed of the ball, the teen thought he'd fall asleep waiting for it to get into position. Gohan became serious in a blink, swatting the ball off into the atmosphere and busting the baseball bat in half. Despite the widespread Saiyan antagonism in Gohan's class, the students all gawked at the sky with twitching eyes and drooling, completely turned off from the objective reality they inhabited and entranced by the superhuman sight of the baseball leaving Earth's orbit.
"Right, that's a home run if I ever saw one…" Gohan smirked, turning his baseball cap around. "I get a passing grade, right?"
"Eh? Umm… Yeah, sure, I guess…" the coach sat down on the gravel, pouring with sweat. The man took off his baseball cap and exhaled some cold air from his mouth while staring ahead of him with a dazed look. If Gohan didn't know any better, he'd have thought that the gym teacher was suffering a heart attack or something.
"Damn Saiyan!" Sharpner hissed. "Just had to show off, didn't you?"
"Eh? Show off? But I missed the first couple of times…" Gohan pointed out, looking completely stunned by the conclusions drawn by his classmate.
"Learn how to lose, Sharpner," Videl rolled her eyes, approaching the yard since it was the girls' time to make their grades. "No one likes a sour loser."
"A sour loser!?" Sharpner growled, throwing his hands up as he got up in between Videl and Gohan as if he intended to strangle both of them but couldn't decide which one to smother first. "I've lived my whole life training and playing sports! I had hoped to find a sport I'm great at and enroll in the best schools in the world based on my skill at sports and maybe even become a professional athlete! How am I supposed to feel knowing that this runt here is just faster, stronger, and tougher than me just because he's born different from me!? What am I supposed to do with my life now? Do I just roll over, become a nobody, take up an office job, and get squished by a collapsing building the next time one of his Saiyan buddies throws a fit in the middle of a metropolis!? Saiyans ruined my entire life, in more ways than one! They blew up the school I worked hard to get into, and then they're threatening my scholarship and my livelihood!"
"Unless your plan is to change your gender and compete with girls, I suggest you take five, Sharpner," Videl squinted at the outraged jock. "You're kind of meddling with our game and impeding us from making our grade for today."
"Ugh…" Sharpner turned around, flipped his hands up in the air, and walked off. Even his buddies looked confused since the top athlete in school just waltzed off in the opposite direction. It was completely unclear where he was headed and what his intentions were but based on his livid expression, he didn't want to see anyone in front of him, or else he'd try his hand being the top bare knuckles boxer in school on the spot.
"Hey, wait up!" Gohan yelled out, running off the square after the blond jock. Videl looked baffled by the fact that Gohan chased after someone who carried so much personal vitriol toward him. She was so confused by it, that had Giru who hovered by her side not warned her that the other girl was about to pitch, she'd have probably missed the first pitch and knee-capped her grade.
"Seriously, man? Back the fuck off! I'm not in the mood for your alien hillbilly shit!" Sharpner hissed.
"It's just… I didn't know you felt that way. I have to say… I don't think I see where you're coming from. Because I missed the first two pitches, I've only got a passing grade, whereas you've aced your gym class. I'm nowhere near being a threat to your scholarship, Sharpner," Gohan explained his side of the argument. "Honestly, gym doesn't really matter to me. I've already found my calling in life in studying martial arts, so I'm fine letting you get your scholarship and staying on top of the class."
"Spare me your stupid pity, Saiyan!" Sharpner barked out, pointing his finger at Gohan. The angry jock grabbed and pulled Gohan up by his collar. "What is it supposed to matter to me if I get the top grades or not? I don't practice sports to get good grades! I practice sports because it's what I'm good at basketball, baseball, boxing, marathon… I'm good at all of those, but now none of it matters! You're just stronger, faster, and tougher than me just because you're a Saiyan! It's not fair, and sports are supposed to be fair and balanced!"
"I mean… We can talk to the principal. Maybe we can see that I get excluded from gym class because of my Saiyan heritage and unnatural strength and I get a passing grade for the rest of the year? That works for me, I'll have fewer classes on my schedule and I don't much care for sports anyway," Gohan shrugged.
"I already told you! Don't you dare pity me! It's not about grades or anything like that! It's about being the best at what you do! It's like you said… You don't even care about sports, you constantly get confused by the rules and you forget which players are on your team and keep passing the ball to the enemy team all the time. Despite that, when you need your grade, you get ahead just because of your Saiyan traits…" Sharpner growled with a miserable tone that made Gohan wonder if he was about to punch him or break down crying.
"You know… Both me and my dad were born barely even stronger than ordinary people. It's our martial arts training and Ki control that put us ahead. Well, I suppose Zenkai helped us out too, but the other non-Saiyan martial artists I know became really impressive just by working really hard. Videl is becoming an amazing martial artist too, and she only learned to control her Ki a few years ago. I could show you a thing or two after school, help you catch up to me a bit…" Gohan suggested. His look didn't give Sharpner any solid promises, and Gohan wouldn't have trusted such uncertainty himself, but Sharpner seemed blown away.
"Hmm… I guess I could do some extracurricular activities. Show you some of my boxing techniques…" Sharpner crossed his arms and turned around, having completely calmed down. "Maybe after a few sessions, you'd stop kicking people in the ring?" he smirked after turning back to Gohan and excusing himself with a thumb up.
Gohan chuckled. He wasn't sure if Sharpner could ever catch up to him in terms of martial arts training, but that all depended on how hard he would work for it. While Gohan and the others in the Dragon Team have been training their entire lives, new martial artists like Videl showed impressive results by skipping a few steps and relying on what worked really well based on the experiences of other martial artists. The new generation of martial artists had more tools for honing themselves available compared to the old, making them a bundle of sheer untapped potential. If Videl could stand up to the Ghost Warriors in just a few years of training, who's to say Sharpner was hopeless?
"Baby-sama is waking up! The healing is complete!" the Machine Mutants hustled and rushed to welcome their awakening master. One by one, the steel wires detached from Baby Vegeta's system and released the regenerated super Tsufurian to flop on one knee while panting from a swift and complete regeneration process. "How is Baby-sama feeling?" the Machine Mutant drones wouldn't stop asking.
"The Big Gete Star's regenerative process isn't pleasant," Baby Vegeta stretched his back out and flexed his arms, observing his body moving. "Steel wires plunged into your arteries and muscles, pumping chemicals and surges of bio-electricity. My muscles still hurt even now. But… Underneath all that rubbish, I feel… Power! Much greater power than even when I first awakened and ascended to this form! Besides that, I feel adulthood creeping up on me. Soon, I'll reach my maximum potential and mature into my adult stage! Then I can shed this body and rip it apart, then merge with Hatchiyack's to become the ultimate and invincible force of nature that no rebellious Saiyan or Earthlings that don't know what's good for them can defy and oppose!"
"What are your orders, Baby-sama?" a Machine Mutant drone inquired.
"What is the plan now that the Saiyans have refused to cooperate?" another joined in while more and more curious red lights blinked across the dimly lit hallways and corridors of the planetoid-sized station.
"I will collect the Dragon Balls and ask the Divine Dragon to restore my planet and my people. Then, I will personally exterminate every single Saiyan on Planet Earth and leave to protect and watch over my people!" Baby Vegeta clenched his fist tightly enough to squeeze the rubber of his glove. "Do we have a means of tracking these Dragon Balls down?"
"Based on our intelligence from our previous invasion, the Earthlings possess special radar technology capable of tracking down Dragon Balls. One of our units, DB4649T2006RS, a scout model, has assimilated Dragon Radar technology within him. He is currently on Planet Earth," a Machine Mutant model replied after the collective analyzed the data available to them with a handful of blinks of their red lights. "He is in the region of Planet Earth known as "Central City"."
"Excellent, use the transportation beam of the Big Gete Star to call him up to the station. I will put his technology to good use and collect the Dragon Balls in no time at all. You Machine Mutants are proving to be invaluable assistants in reaching my goal. Rest assured, I will not forget your devotion and your service," Baby Vegeta smiled faintly, closing his eyes with a tranquil expression. He could almost taste his triumph now. All the pieces were comfortably falling into place.
"Hmm… I wonder where Gohan went off to…" Videl sighed after leaving the changing room after class. It took no time at all to earn her grade since she wasn't purposefully slacking behind like Gohan. "Oh well, it's not like I've forgiven him already or anything…" Videl pouted. "What's next on our schedule?"
"Videl has a free period," Giru announced.
"Oh, that's cool!" Videl's expression softened up. "Maybe we can go crime fighting again?"
"Giru-Giru! Crime fighting is dangerous!" Giru beeped out. "Giru doesn't like Videl being put in danger! Videl is Giru's friend!"
"Come on!" Videl waved it off, walking toward a small kiosk that sold cheap snacks for students to get herself a milkshake. "It's not like those criminals can even hurt either of us. We're just helping people while practicing our skills and killing time, so it's a win-win situation. As long as you remember to hold back some. Don't think I forgot how you used that missile indoors or pulled that car too hard and split it in two. Who knows when those robbers will leave the hospital after dropping out from a split truck in a high-speed chase like that?"
A cerulean sky beam slammed down around Giru, blanking Videl out and throwing her on her rear end. The blinding, flashing light left Videl temporarily stunned and wondering what was going on. Her first impression was that maybe she was being attacked by someone's Ki wave, but at no point did she feel the burn or the sting of it. Whatever hit them was harmless.
"Giru-Giru…" Giru beeped out, looking terrified and jerking around with an energy field erect around him. "It's the Big Gete Star! The Machine Mutants are transporting Giru onboard! Giru doesn't want to go! Giru wants to stay with Videl! Giru… Wants to go crime fighting…!"
"Giru!" Videl cried out, charging straight into the beam and wrapping her hands around Giru to cradle him. The terrified scout drone seemed to settle down in her arms, pulling his arms and legs in while a loud howl and overwhelming force blanked Videl out completely. The cerulean sky beam narrowed down and swooped the disassembled particles of those caught in its range toward the source of the transporter.
As the beam vanished, Gohan dashed right up to the beam with a desperate look on his face. "Videl-san!" he cried out into the sky, but he was too late. Videl and Giru were in Baby's hands now.