The twilight sky over Planet Vegeta bled with deep hues of crimson and violet, casting long shadows over the rugged landscape of jagged cliffs and rocky outcroppings. It was a world that exuded raw, untamed power, a planet where the strong thrived, and the weak were either left behind or destroyed. Yet, within this warrior planet's cold, stony heart, a small, quiet home nestled between jagged peaks.
Inside, Gine stood by a small crib, gently rocking her infant son, Kakarot, who was peacefully dozing. His tiny tail twitched occasionally, a clear indicator of the Saiyan blood running through him, even as an infant. Gine's soft eyes—so unlike the hardened gazes of most Saiyans—lingered on his sleeping form, her fingers brushing through the small tuft of black hair that crowned his head. The room was dim, lit by the fading light from the setting sun through a narrow window. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to bask in the quietness and calm before everything seemed to shift.
From the corner of the room, Raditz, barely seven years old, fidgeted as he wrestled with his training gear, grumbling in frustration. His tail flicked behind him, betraying his growing impatience.
"Mom, when's Dad coming back? He said he'd take me to see the elite soldiers train!" Raditz pouted, crossing his arms.
"Patience, Raditz. Your father's… he's been busy lately," Gine replied, her voice soothing but distracted. She continued to rock Kakarot though her mind was wandering. Bardock had been acting strange since returning from one of his recent missions. He was quieter and more brooding than usual, which was saying something for a man like him.
The front door slid open with a metallic hiss, and Bardock stepped inside, his form shadowed in the doorway momentarily. His armor was scuffed, as usual, and his red headband—the one stained with the blood of his fallen comrades—was tied tight around his brow. His eyes, sharp and fierce, scanned the room, lingering on Gine and the children.
Gine immediately noticed the tension in his frame, the way his jaw was set just a little too tight, the way his tail hung low, stiff with unease. Something was wrong.
"Bardock?" she asked softly, her brow furrowing. "What's going on? Did something happen?"
He closed the door behind him, stepping into the room with a heavy sigh. Raditz brightened up, hopping to his feet. "Dad! Can we—"
"Not now, Raditz," Bardock said, his tone unusually curt, making the boy freeze in place. Gine's heart skipped a beat. Bardock was never harsh with Raditz, no matter how serious things got.
"Go outside for a bit, play if you want," Bardock added, softer this time, but the firmness remained. Raditz opened his mouth to protest, but one look at his father's face stopped him. He huffed but obeyed, walking out the door with a frustrated groan.
Once the door closed behind him, Gine felt a chill run down her spine. She gently laid Kakarot back into his crib, turning to face her husband fully.
"Bardock," she began cautiously, "What's going on?"
For a moment, Bardock didn't respond. He stared out the window, his eyes distant, as if weighing the gravity of what he was about to say. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white against his dark gloves. Finally, he spoke, his voice low, gruff, and filled with a kind of resigned bitterness that sent shivers through Gine.
"Frieza…" Bardock started, and the weight of that single name seemed to hang heavy in the air. "He's ordered all the Saiyans back to Planet Vegeta. No exceptions."
Gine frowned, stepping closer. "That's… unusual, isn't it? I thought—"
"It's more than unusual," Bardock cut her off, turning to face her. His eyes, normally hardened from years of battle, held something she wasn't used to seeing in him—fear. "It's a trap. I know it is. Frieza's planning something, something big. His men—his top lieutenants—they've been asking questions about the Super Saiyan legend. About us."
Gine's breath caught in her throat. She knew the legend, as did every Saiyan, but to hear it spoken of now, in this context, with Frieza's name attached to it—something wasn't right.
"But… the legend? That's just a story," Gine said, her voice trembling. "You don't think—"
"I don't think Frieza gives a damn whether it's true or not," Bardock interrupted, his voice low but intense. He stepped closer to her, his hands gripping her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes. "He's scared, Gine. Scared of us, of what we might become. He sees the Saiyans as a threat, and you know what Frieza does to threats."
Gine shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "Bardock… no. No, you can't be serious. He needs us—he needs the Saiyan army. He wouldn't—"
"He would," Bardock said, his voice almost a growl. "And he will."
She stared at him, heart pounding. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation, but it was like grasping at smoke. Frieza? Destroy Planet Vegeta? It seemed impossible, but Bardock—Bardock was never wrong about these things. His instincts in battle were unmatched, and when he got a feeling like this, it was never for nothing.
"But… what can we do?" she whispered, voice barely audible. "We can't fight him. Not Frieza."
Bardock's grip tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "No. We can't. But you can run."
Gine's breath hitched. "What?"
"I'm getting you and the boys off this planet," Bardock said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "There's a ship. One of Frieza's patrol pods. I can steal it and get it ready for you. You'll take Kakarot and Raditz and leave tonight."
Gine's heart felt like it was being crushed. "No," she breathed, shaking her head. "Bardock, you can't—what about you? You're coming with us, right?"
Bardock's gaze softened for just a moment, and he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his calloused fingers surprisingly gentle. "I can't. I have to stay. If I'm wrong… if Frieza isn't planning anything, I'll return and get you. But if I'm right…"
Gine's throat tightened, and she grabbed onto his arms, desperation surging through her. "No, you can't stay here! If you're right, you'll die! We'll all—"
"Which is why you have to go," Bardock interrupted his voice firm. "You, Kakarot, Raditz—you three are all that matters. I won't let you die here."
Tears welled up in Gine's eyes, spilling over as she shook her head again. "But where? Where would we even go?"
Bardock took a deep breath as though steadying himself. "There's a planet," he said. "It's off the grid—Frieza's forces don't know about it. I've been planning this ever since I started suspecting something was off. It's far, secluded. You'll be safe there, I promise."
"But—"
"Gine," Bardock's voice softened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close. For a moment, the world outside disappeared, and it was just the two of them standing in the twilight of their world. "I need you to trust me on this."
She buried her face in his chest, her hands clutching the rough fabric of his armor. She wanted to argue, scream, and demand that he come with them, but she knew. She could feel his arms trembling just slightly as he held her. Bardock believed this was the only way.
"Okay," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Okay… I'll go. But you promise me—promise me you'll come back to us. If you're wrong, if it's all just in your head… you'll find us, right?"
"I promise," Bardock said, his voice soft yet strong. He kissed the top of her head, lingering for a moment. "Now go. Get Raditz and Kakarot ready. I'll get the ship."
Gine nodded, pulling away from him and wiping her eyes quickly. She turned toward Kakarot's crib, her hands trembling as she lifted the sleeping infant into her arms. He stirred slightly, his tiny fists clenching and unclenching as she held him close to her chest. She glanced at Bardock one last time, her heart aching with every step she took toward the door.
"Raditz!" Bardock called out, stepping outside. "Come here, boy!"
Raditz appeared from behind the house, his face flushed from training. "What's going on, Dad? Are we leaving?"
Bardock knelt before him, his hands resting on Raditz's small shoulders. "Listen to me, Raditz. You're going with your mother and Kakarot. You need to protect them, alright?"
Raditz blinked, confusion clouding his features. "But… why? What's happening?"
"Just do as I say," Bardock replied, his voice low. "You're a strong Saiyan. I'm counting on you."
Raditz looked up at his father, then Gine, who held Kakarot close. His confusion melted into something more serious, and he nodded, determination in his young eyes. "I will."
Bardock stood, his eyes lingering on his family one last time before he turned toward the horizon, where the faint glow of Frieza's base could be seen in the distance.
"Go," he said quietly. "I'll catch up with you when I can."
Gine stared at him for a moment longer, then, with a heavy heart, turned and led her two sons into the night.
As they disappeared into the shadows, Bardock remained, watching until they were no longer visible. He knew, deep down, that this was likely the last time he would see them. But if he could give them a chance—just one chance—then it was worth it.
With a final glance at the darkening sky, Bardock headed off into the night toward his uncertain fate.
The night air on Planet Vegeta was thick with tension, and the distant sounds of the city were now a mere hum in the background as Gine hurried along the rough, rocky path. The weight of Kakarot in her arms was grounding, his tiny body warm against her chest, while her free hand firmly gripped Raditz's small, calloused one. Raditz, confused but silent for now, kept glancing up at her with wide, questioning eyes. She could feel his unease through his tightening grip, but there was no time to stop and explain—not fully, not yet.
The dim lights from the city flickered on the horizon, a fading beacon as they moved deeper into the outskirts where Bardock had hidden the stolen pod. Gine's heart raced from the physical exertion and the weight of everything happening so fast. Bardock's words replayed in her mind, his grim expression, the way his voice trembled just slightly when he told her to leave. She knew him well enough to recognize the fear behind his resolve. He truly believed they would die if they stayed.
"Mom… where are we going?" Raditz finally spoke, his voice hesitant as he struggled to keep up with her hurried pace. "What's happening? Why didn't Dad come with us?"
Gine swallowed hard, glancing down at her oldest son. His face was scrunched in confusion, but there was a hint of fear there, too. He was still so young despite the proud Saiyan blood running through his veins. He didn't yet understand the depth of what was happening, and she didn't want to overwhelm him with the truth. Not now.
"We're going somewhere safe," she said, her voice soft but hurried. "Your father… he's staying behind to ensure we're alright. He… he'll come back for us, Raditz. But right now, we need to move quickly."
Raditz frowned, his brow furrowing in frustration. "But I'm strong too! I can help! Why are we running away?"
Gine sighed, her heart breaking a little at his words. She stopped momentarily, crouching down to his level, her free hand resting on his small shoulder. Kakarot stirred slightly in her arms, his tiny tail curling around her wrist.
"Raditz," she began, her voice as calm as she could muster. Sometimes, being strong doesn't mean fighting. Sometimes… it means protecting the people you care about by ensuring they're safe. That's what your father's doing for us. And that's what you must do for me and your brother now."
Raditz looked down, his expression conflicted. His fists clenched at his sides as if he wanted to argue, but the seriousness in his mother's voice weighed on him. Finally, he nodded, though the uncertainty didn't leave his eyes.
"Okay, Mom," he mumbled, though his tail twitched nervously behind him.
"Good boy," Gine whispered, squeezing his shoulder gently before standing up again. "Now, come on. We're almost there."
The terrain around them grew more rugged, the jagged rocks and cliffs looming larger as they descended into a hidden ravine. Bardock had chosen this place carefully, far from prying eyes and Frieza's patrols. Gine could just make out the silhouette of the stolen pod, nestled between two towering rock formations concealed by the natural landscape. Relief washed over her, though it was brief—there was still so much that could go wrong.
As they approached, Raditz pulled his hand free from hers and ran ahead toward the pod. "This is the ship?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. Where are we going in this thing?"
Gine bit her lip, hesitant to answer. How could she explain this to him? How could she make him understand that their home—everything they'd ever known—was in danger? That the mighty Frieza, the tyrant who commanded their entire race, was planning to wipe them out?
"We're leaving Planet Vegeta," she said softly, trying to find the right words. "There's… something bad happening. Your father thinks it's not safe here anymore. We're going far away, to a place where Frieza can't find us."
Raditz turned to her, his face scrunched up in confusion. "But why? Why would Frieza do that? We're his best fighters!"
Gine didn't know how to respond to that. It was the same question she had asked Bardock, the same disbelief she had felt when he told her his suspicions. But seeing how Bardock had looked at her—so certain, so grim—she knew there was no doubt in his mind. And if Bardock believed it, she had to as well.
"I don't know, Raditz," she admitted quietly. "But we have to trust your father. He's doing what he thinks is right to protect us."
Before Raditz could protest further, Gine's breath caught in her throat as something bright flashed in the corner of her eye. Her gaze snapped upward, her heart freezing in her chest. High above, cutting through the darkened sky like a blade, was Frieza's massive ship. Its unmistakable shape hovered ominously in the atmosphere, casting a shadow over the land.
And then she saw it.
A pulsating, glowing ball of energy—massive and burning with terrifying power—formed at the base of Frieza's ship. Her breath hitched, and her blood ran cold.
"Raditz," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Get in the pod. Now."
"But—"
"Now!" Her voice cracked with urgency as fear gripped her. There wasn't any more time.
Wide-eyed, Raditz hesitated only for a second before scrambling toward the pod. Gine held Kakarot close, her legs moving instinctually as she rushed toward the pod's entrance. She could hear the growing hum of Frieza's energy ball, which sent a primal, bone-deep terror coursing through her.
She shoved Raditz into the pod first, then clambered in after him, frantically hitting the control panel to seal the door. Kakarot let out a small whimper in her arms, sensing the tension and fear in the air.
Just as the pod door hissed shut, Gine's eyes caught sight of another flash of light in the sky—a smaller, concentrated blast of energy rocketing toward the massive ball of death above. Her heart skipped a beat. That energy… she knew it. She knew its signature, its fierce, determined power.
"Bardock…" she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.
Through the small viewing port of the pod, she could see him—her husband, her warrior—facing the impossible. His lone attack was aimed directly at the center of Frieza's deadly ki ball, a desperate attempt to stop the inevitable.
For a brief, agonizing moment, she dared to hope. Bardock's energy collided with Frieza's, and for an instant, it seemed like he might succeed. The energy ball wavered, its trajectory slowing.
But then, with a surge of power, Frieza's ball overpowered Bardock's attack. The smaller blast was swallowed whole, and the massive energy sphere continued its descent toward the planet.
"No!" Gine gasped, her heart shattering as she watched the scene unfold.
In the distance, she saw Bardock—his figure illuminated by the fiery glow of the energy ball—stand his ground until the last second. Then, the energy struck the planet's surface in a brilliant, blinding flash of light.
The explosion was instantaneous and devastating.
The entire planet seemed to shudder, the ground splitting open beneath the force of the blast. A wave of fiery destruction spread outward in every direction, consuming everything in its path. Gine barely had time to react before the shockwave reached the pod, sending it careening through the air, its systems overloaded by the force of the explosion.
She screamed, clutching Kakarot and Raditz close as the pod spun wildly out of control. Outside the window, the view was nothing but chaos—a swirling storm of fire, debris, and space.
Through the confusion, Gine's mind was consumed by one thought: Bardock. He was gone. She had seen him standing there, so proud, so fearless, and now… he was gone.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but there was no time to grieve. The pod's systems malfunctioned, and the blast damaged the navigational controls. Gine could feel the pod shaking as it veered off course, heading into the unknown.
"Hold on," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Hold on…"
Raditz clung to her side, his own fear palpable as the pod hurtled through the darkness of space. Kakarot, still an infant, whimpered softly in her arms, unaware of the devastation they had just escaped.
As the pod stabilized slightly, Gine looked out the viewport, her chest tightening. Planet Vegeta… their home… was gone. All she could see now was the remnants of the explosion—a swirling cloud of fire and ash where their world had once been.
And Bardock… her heart broke all over again.
But she couldn't stop. She had to keep going. For her sons. For the future.
She had no idea where the pod was taking them now. The force of the explosion had knocked them far off course, and without proper controls, they were drifting through space, heading toward an unknown destination.
Gine closed her eyes, holding her children close as they floated through the dark, endless expanse. Wherever they were going, whatever awaited them… they would survive.
And they would honor Bardock's sacrifice.
The pod floated through the vastness of space, a small, dark speck in the endless void. Gine's body felt heavy, and her limbs were weighed down by exhaustion and the weight of everything they had lost. After the explosion, after the destruction of Planet Vegeta and the loss of Bardock, the pod had spiraled uncontrollably through space, leaving them adrift. Gine had no way to guide them, no knowledge of where they were or where they were headed. All she could do was hold her children close and hope they would land somewhere safe—if such a place existed.
Her arms cradled Kakarot, whose small chest rose and fell rhythmically, his breathing soft and steady. Despite everything, despite the fear and the chaos, he had somehow managed to sleep. Raditz, sitting next to her, had curled up into a restless sleep as well, his brow furrowed even in his dreams.
Gine stared out through the small viewport, watching the stars streak by in a blur of white light. Her mind wandered to Bardock, to the last image she had of him—standing tall, facing down Frieza's deadly energy blast with the defiance of a true warrior. The pain of losing him was still fresh, a raw wound that throbbed in her chest. But there was no time to grieve, not yet. She had to keep moving and stay strong for her children. She had to honor Bardock's sacrifice by ensuring they survived.
A soft whimper broke through the silence, pulling Gine from her thoughts. Kakarot stirred in her arms, his small face scrunching up as a cry escaped his lips. The sound was faint at first, but it quickly grew louder, more insistent. Gine blinked, her body reacting on instinct as she gently rocked him, trying to soothe him.
"Hush, hush, it's alright," she whispered, though her voice sounded hollow even to her own ears. "Mama's here. It's okay."
But Kakarot's cries only grew louder, his tiny fists flailing as he squirmed in her arms. Gine felt a surge of panic. They had been adrift in space for who knew how long, and she had no idea when—or if—they would find solid ground. Her chest tightened as she realized Kakarot was probably hungry. No food, no water. Her pulse quickened. How long could they last like this?
Raditz stirred at the sound of his brother's cries, rubbing his eyes groggily as he sat up. "Mom? What's wrong with Kakarot?" His voice was thick with sleep, but there was a note of worry in it.
"He's hungry," Gine murmured, gently bouncing Kakarot in her arms. "He's just… he's hungry, and we don't have anything to give him."
Raditz frowned, his small face scrunching up in confusion. "What do we do? Where are we?"
Before Gine could respond, a sudden jolt rocked the pod, and her heart leaped into her throat. Kakarot's cries grew louder as the small spacecraft lurched, its thrusters flaring to life. Gine looked up, her breath catching in her throat as a planet came into view through the viewport—an unknown world with vast stretches of desert that seemed to extend endlessly beneath two suns.
Gine's eyes widened. "What… what is this place?" she whispered, more to herself than to Raditz.
Raditz pressed his face against the glass, his eyes wide. "Are we landing?"
The pod descended rapidly, and the friction of the atmosphere caused it to tremble and shake violently. Gine's hands tightened around Kakarot, holding him securely as the pod hurtled toward the planet's surface. The roar of the thrusters filled the small cabin, drowning out Kakarot's cries, and Gine could feel the heat rising as they plunged through the atmosphere.
Moments later, with a bone-jarring thud, the pod hit the ground, sending a cloud of sand and dust into the air. The shaking subsided, and a deafening silence filled the pod once again. The only sound was the faint hiss of the cooling systems and Kakarot's soft whimpers.
Gine blinked, her body still tense from the landing, but they were alive. They had made it. She let out a shaky breath, loosening her grip on Kakarot as she tried to gather her thoughts. Slowly, she stood, her legs trembling beneath her as she moved toward the hatch.
Raditz scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide with excitement and nerves. "Mom, where are we? What is this place?"
"I don't know," Gine admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She punched a few buttons on the control panel, and with a soft hiss, the hatch opened, letting in a blast of dry, searing air. The heat hit her like a wave, and she squinted against the brightness of the twin suns overhead.
As she stepped onto the barren desert sand, Gine looked around. The landscape stretched out before her in all directions, an endless sea of golden dunes and jagged rock formations. There was no sign of life, no trees, no water—nothing but sand and sky.
Raditz hopped from the pod behind her, shielding his eyes from the harsh light. "It's… hot," he muttered, kicking at the sand with his boot.
Gine nodded absently, her mind racing. They were in the middle of a desert on an unknown planet with no food, water, or scouter to locate any signs of civilization. Her gaze flickered down to Kakarot, whose cries had softened into quiet whimpers. His tiny face was flushed, and he squirmed in her arms, clearly uncomfortable in the heat.
Panic began to claw at the edges of her mind. How long could they survive here? How long before Kakarot—before all of them—succumbed to the brutal heat or dehydration? She couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't let Bardock's sacrifice be in vain.
Raditz tugged at her arm, breaking her out of her thoughts. "Mom… what do we do? Where do we go?"
Gine took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "We need to find water. Food. Anything." She looked around, her gaze scanning the horizon for any sign of life, but there was nothing but sand dunes stretching as far as the eye could see. "We'll fly," she said, making the decision quickly. "We'll fly and try to find a settlement or any kind of civilization. But we need to hurry."
Raditz's eyes lit up at the mention of flying. "I can fly! I'll go fast and find something!"
"No," Gine said sharply, her voice firm as she glanced down at Kakarot. "We stay together. I can't risk losing you. We'll fly, but we'll do it together."
Raditz frowned but nodded, clearly not wanting to argue in the face of the situation. "Okay, Mom. But we need to hurry, right? Kakarot won't last long in this heat."
Gine's heart squeezed painfully in her chest as she glanced down at her youngest son. His skin was already beginning to flush from the heat, his cries weak and tired. She felt a lump form in her throat, but she swallowed it down. There wasn't time to panic, not now.
"Let's go," she said quietly, her voice filled with determination. She tightened her grip on Kakarot, holding him close to her chest as she kicked off the ground, her body lifting into the hot desert air. Raditz followed close behind, his tail flicking with excitement despite the seriousness of the situation.
They flew for what felt like hours, the relentless heat beating down on them as they soared over the endless dunes. Every so often, Gine would glance down at Kakarot, who had stopped crying altogether and now lay limp in her arms, his small body exhausted from the heat.
"Mom," Raditz called out from beside her, his voice strained. "Do you see anything?"
Gine scanned the horizon again, but it was the same as before—nothing but sand. Her heart sank. She had hoped they would find something by now, but the desert seemed endless, and without a scouter, there was no way to pinpoint any settlements or towns.
"Kakarot…" she murmured softly, her chest tightening. His breathing was shallow, his little body too hot to the touch. She could feel his energy waning, and fear gripped her heart.
"Mom, we have to find something soon!" Raditz's voice was louder now, more urgent. "Kakarot—he's… he's not okay, is he?"
"No," Gine whispered, her voice cracking. "No, he's not."
The realization hit her like a blow. If they didn't find civilization soon, if they didn't find food, water—anything—Kakarot wouldn't make it. He was just a baby. He wasn't strong enough to survive in these conditions for long.
But she couldn't give up. Not now. Not after everything they'd been through. She wouldn't let her son die. Not here. Not like this.
"Keep looking," Gine said through gritted teeth, her eyes scanning the horizon again. "There has to be something. There has to be—"
Under the oppressive heat, the landscape seemed to shimmer and blur, and for a moment, Gine thought she was imagining things. But then, in the distance, she saw it—a figure moving slowly but steadily through the desert.
Raditz spotted it, too. "Mom, look! Someone's out there!" he exclaimed, pointing toward the figure.
Gine's heart leaped into her throat. She blinked, unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her, but no—there was definitely someone there, a solitary figure riding what looked like a creature of some kind. The heat made it hard to make out any details, but the person was real. And they were headed in their direction.
Without thinking, Gine's legs moved on their own. She began to run toward the distant figure, her steps uneven in the sand, and the weight of Kakarot made it difficult to move quickly. Raditz followed close behind, his small legs working hard to keep up, his eyes wide with hope.
As they got closer, Gine could make out more details. The figure was draped in a long, tattered cloak, its face obscured by a hood that shielded it from the harsh sun. The creature they rode was unlike anything Gine had ever seen before—large, lumbering, with rough skin and long, spindly legs that allowed it to traverse the desert with ease. The rider sat atop it, calm and composed, their movements slow but deliberate.
Gine's heart raced. Who was this person? A local? A traveler? It didn't matter. All that mattered was that they were here—and they might be their only chance of survival.
As they approached, the rider stopped, pulling gently on the reins of the creature, which lowered its head with a soft grunt. The figure dismounted with practiced ease, their movements graceful, almost deliberate. Still, the face remained hidden beneath the hood, giving nothing away.
Gine stumbled forward, her breath ragged as she stopped a few feet away from the stranger. Her legs trembled from exhaustion and fear. She held Kakarot tightly, her heart pounding in her chest as she gazed up at the mysterious figure.
"Please…" Gine's voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper, but the desperation in her tone was unmistakable. "Please, help us. My son… he's—he's too weak. We've been stranded here with no food, no water… I—" Her voice cracked, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Please."
For a moment, the stranger said nothing, simply observing her in silence. Gine couldn't see their faces, but something about their presence—calm, almost reassuring—made her heart ache with a glimmer of hope.
The figure's hood shifted slightly, revealing a glimpse of a weathered face, though the details were still obscured. The stranger's gaze lingered on Gine for a long moment, then shifted to the bundle in her arms. Kakarot let out a small, weak whimper, and Gine held him closer, her heart aching at the sound.
The figure finally spoke, its voice low and measured, yet there was an air of quiet strength behind it. "You're far from home."
Gine's eyes widened slightly, though she kept her voice steady. "Yes… we… we were fleeing. Please, I don't have time to explain—my son is dying."
The figure nodded, their movements slow and deliberate, as if they were carefully weighing the situation. They looked over Gine and Raditz again as if assessing them before turning toward their mount. The creature gave a low grunt as its rider retrieved something from one of the saddlebags—a canteen. Without a word, the stranger extended the container toward Gine.
"Here," they said simply. "Water."
Gine's hands trembled as she reached for the canteen, unscrewing the cap and bringing it to Kakarot's lips first. The infant weakly sipped at the water, and Gine's heart lifted slightly as she saw the color returning to his face. She offered more to Raditz, who drank eagerly before finally taking a sip herself. The cool liquid was a balm against the dry heat that had parched her throat.
"Thank you," Gine gasped, her voice thick with relief. "I don't know how to repay you."
The figure said nothing, simply watching her with an intensity that made her feel like they were studying her every move, as though they were trying to understand something deeper about her. Gine felt uneasy under that gaze but said nothing, her focus entirely on Kakarot and keeping him hydrated.
After a moment, the stranger spoke again. "This is no place for you or your children. The desert is unforgiving."
Gine nodded, looking up at the twin suns that hung high above, their relentless heat beating down on the sand. "I know," she replied softly. "We had no choice. We don't even know where we are."
The stranger was silent for a moment as if considering her words. Then, without warning, they gestured behind them toward the direction they had come. "My home is nearby," they said, their voice calm but firm. It's not much, but it will offer you shelter and water. You'll be safe there."
Gine blinked in surprise, her heart pounding as she processed the offer. Relief washed over her, though there was still an undercurrent of uncertainty. "Your home?" she repeated, her voice hesitant.
The figure nodded once, their face still mostly hidden beneath the shadow of their hood. "It's quiet. Isolated. You'll have what you need to rest and recover."
Gine glanced down at Kakarot, whose cries had quieted but whose body was still far too warm. He needed water, food—something to help him recover from the heat. She didn't know who this person was or why they were offering to help, but at this point, there were no other options.
"Thank you," Gine said quietly, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and desperation. "I… we don't have anywhere else to go."
The figure nodded again as though they had expected her answer. With a graceful motion, they mounted their creature once more and extended a hand down to Gine. "Come. We must hurry. The desert is unforgiving, especially for your son."
Gine hesitated for a brief moment, glancing at Raditz, who stood beside her, his face filled with uncertainty. She couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness. She didn't know this person—didn't know if they could be trusted—but what choice did she have?
Trusting her instincts, Gine shifted Kakarot in her arms and took the stranger's hand, allowing them to help her onto the creature's back. It was larger than she had realized, its rough skin hot from the sun, but its presence felt steady, almost reassuring. Raditz climbed up behind her, his hands gripping her tunic for support.
As soon as they were settled, the creature began to move, its long, slow strides carrying them across the desert sands with surprising speed. Gine held Kakarot close, her heart racing as the hot wind whipped past them. She could feel the exhaustion creeping into her bones, but the thought of safety—of shelter—kept her going.
The stranger said nothing as they guided the creature through the dunes, their face still hidden beneath the hood. Gine stole glances at them, wondering who they were and why they were helping her. There was something strange about their presence—calm yet mysterious as if they were holding back more than they were saying. But Gine didn't press for answers—not yet.
For now, all that mattered was survival.
After what felt like hours, Gine spotted something on the horizon. A small structure, barely visible against the endless expanse of sand, began to take shape. As they drew closer, she could make out a modest dwelling made of rough stone and clay tucked into the shelter of a rocky outcropping. It was simple and isolated, just as the stranger had said, but to Gine, it looked like salvation.
"We're here," the stranger said quietly as the creature came to a stop in front of the dwelling.
Gine slid off the creature's back, her legs trembling slightly as they touched the ground. Raditz followed his expression, a mixture of curiosity and relief. Kakarot, though still weak, seemed calmer now, his small breaths more even as he rested in Gine's arms.
The stranger dismounted and moved toward the entrance of the home, gesturing for them to follow. "Come inside. There's water. Shade."
Gine didn't need to be told twice. She followed the stranger into the dwelling, her heart racing as she stepped into the cool, shaded interior. The temperature difference was immediate, and Gine let out a sigh of relief as the oppressive heat of the desert melted away.
Inside, the home was sparse but functional. A simple table sat in the center of the room, with rough-hewn chairs surrounding it. Shelves lined the walls, filled with various supplies—some that Gine didn't recognize, others that looked more familiar. At the far end of the room, a water basin stood, and the sound of dripping water was like music to her ears.
The stranger moved silently, retrieving a small, simple cup and filling it with water from the basin. They handed it to Gine without a word, and she accepted it gratefully, immediately offering it to Kakarot. The infant sipped weakly, his small body relaxing as he drank.
Gine's heart swelled with relief. She had been so afraid—afraid that Kakarot wouldn't make it, that they wouldn't survive this harsh world. But now, with water and shelter, there was hope.
"Thank you," Gine said again, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know how to repay you for this."
The stranger simply shook their head, their face still obscured by the hood. "You owe me nothing," they said quietly. "Rest. You and your children need it."
Raditz, who had been silent until now, looked up at the stranger with wide eyes. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice filled with curiosity. "Why are you helping us?"
Gine's breath caught in her throat. She had wanted to ask the same question but hadn't dared to, not yet.
The stranger paused for a moment, their head tilting slightly as if considering the question. But instead of answering directly, they simply turned away, moving toward the far side of the room. "It doesn't matter who I am," they said softly, their voice carrying an odd weight. "What matters is that you're safe now."
Gine frowned slightly but didn't push. Something about the stranger's movement and language made her feel both uneasy and strangely reassured. Whoever they were, they had saved her and her children, and for now, that was enough.
She settled down on the floor, holding Kakarot close as he drifted off into a much-needed sleep. Raditz sat beside her, his small hand resting on her arm as they both watched the stranger move silently around the room, preparing what looked like a small meal.
The mystery of who this person was still lingered in Gine's mind, but exhaustion was quickly overtaking her. For now, she would rest. For now, they were safe.
But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that this stranger was more than they appeared.
And that's where we are so far! Gine and her two sons have crash-landed on a strange desert planet with two suns (sound familiar?). They're lost, desperate, and barely hanging on, but a mysterious stranger has just saved them. We don't know where they are exactly, but things are looking up now that they've found shelter.
But the big question is… who is this stranger? They've got this calm, almost otherworldly vibe about them, and something tells me they're more important than they're letting on. Could it be someone we've seen before? Guess we'll have to stick around to find out!
Thanks for reading!