Gohan, Krillin, and Yamcha crash-landed at the site where they had left the spaceship, their boots skidding against the dusty, cracked earth. The Namekian sun shone sharply over their heads, its heat oppressive.
Without hesitation, they darted into the crevices of a massive ochre-hued boulder, its surface weathered by wind and time, offering some semblance of cover, and shade.
"Hah... hah... hah..."
Their breaths came out in sharp, ragged gasps, echoing faintly off the stone around them.
Krillin and Yamcha collapsed onto the coarse ground, their limbs trembling with exhaustion. Sweat streaked down their dirt-smeared faces, mixing with blood from gashes and bruises that colored their bodies in grim shades of red and purple. The air was dry, thin, and tasted faintly of dust.
"I think... we did it, guys," Yamcha rasped, each word dragged out as if it weighed a ton.
"Yeah..." Krillin muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes barely open.
For a moment, there was only silence; heavy, loaded. A solemn quiet broken only by their labored breathing and the occasional whisper of the Namekian wind rustling through the alien brush.
They had slipped the jaws of near-certain death; and it felt nothing short of miraculous, to be still breathing.
Then, Gohan spoke, his tone unsure. "Guys... isn't this where our spaceship's supposed to be?"
Krillin, still trying to get air into his burning lungs, waved dismissively, his hand trembling. "Relax, Gohan... it's here somewhere... Just give it a minute."
But Gohan didn't relax. His eyes darted across the empty patch of land. The rocky spires and patches of mossy blue terrain around them were unmistakable: this was the place. He shook his head. "I don't need a break, Krillin. You two are the ones who took a beating. Let me grab some bandages and food from the ship, okay?"
He turned before either of them could argue, boots thudding against the cracked stone as he sprinted off.
Krillin gave a tired smile, his eyelids heavy. "Smart kid…"
A minute later, Gohan reappeared, his breath quick but sharp with panic. His eyes were wide, and his voice cracked with alarm.
"Krillin! Yamcha! The spaceship... it's gone!"
Krillin's eyes snapped open. Yamcha sat up with a jolt.
"What?!"
..............
Meanwhile, far away in the vastness of space...
Mr. Popo reclined comfortably on the sofa as the spaceship sped through the void. In just three days, he would reach Earth, thanks to the shortcut through the warphole. With the ship fully fueled, he didn't expect any trouble navigating the turbulence.
"Haha! I wonder how those kids are handling the Yajirobe situation. Maybe I should've left them some food... oh well. A little hunting won't hurt them."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Back on Namek: Guru's place...
"NAIIIL!"
The name echoed through the stone chamber, stirring the tranquil air. Nail appeared almost instantly, his tall frame gliding into the room with the poise of a seasoned warrior.
"Yes, Master Guru?" he asked, standing tall, his voice calm.
Guru's tired eyes drifted toward a neatly folded set of garments in the corner: faded blue and white, aged but clean, preserved with care.
"I forgot to give these to Khami," he said, his voice low and laced with sentiment. "These were mine, once. Time has made them too small... but I believe the son of Katas would honor them as more than cloth."
"I can have Dende deliver them," Nail offered, rising with purpose. "I know where Mr. Popo usually anchors his ship."
Guru gave a soft, gravelly chuckle. "Wise as always, Naiil," he said, his voice imbued with quiet affection. "Yes... send Dende. I doubt Mr. Popo has gone far."
. . .
Dende flew swiftly, his aura trailing behind him like a shimmering tail. A bag was strapped across his back, and he clutched a large map in his hands. As he soared through the air, he muttered under his breath, 'Why do I always get stuck with these errands?' He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. 'All my friends are probably out fishing right now...'
As Dende flew over a series of islands, his attention was drawn to several massive craters that pockmarked the landscape. They looked fresh, as though the land had recently witnessed a fierce battle.
"Whoa..." Dende whispered as he descended to get a closer look. One of the craters was particularly enormous, its edges jagged and raw.
He stared at it for a few moments, awe-struck. 'What could have caused this?'
Shaking off the distraction, he sighed. "I better hurry. I can't afford to miss Mr. Popo."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Meanwhile, on Earth...
Goku was busy packing his luggage for the upcoming trip, while Chichi worked diligently beside him. "Chichi! You done with those clothes yet?" he called out.
"What's the rush, Goku?" Chichi replied, carefully ironing a shirt. "Just give me a minute, alright?" In her distraction, she accidentally scorched the fabric. "Argh! Look what you've made me do!"
Goku blinked, confused. "What did I do?"
Upstairs, Tien lay on his bed, listening to the commotion below. They still had a couple of days before the trip, and he couldn't quite understand the urgency.
"Well," he muttered to himself, "maybe I'll get it once I become a family man." He glanced over at his own small pile of clothes—just a few pairs of trousers and vests. "Doesn't take much to pack when that's all you own."
In a way, Tien appreciated the simplicity of his life. No burdens, no responsibilities to weigh him down. His days were filled with training and meditation, allowing him to focus on what mattered most to him: self-discipline and strength. It suited him.
But things had changed in the past year, ever since he'd been staying at Goku's place. From time to time, he'd help out on the farm or accompany Goku to the market, selling the produce they'd grown. It was a small price to pay for Goku's generosity, after all. Goku never asked for anything in return. Yet, the more he helped, the more distant that old life felt, slipping further into memory.
As Tien lay on the bed, a heaviness pressed against his chest. 'I miss you, Chiaotzu,' he whispered, his voice soft, almost as if saying it any louder would break something inside him.
His mind drifted back to simpler times: days of endless training with Chiaotzu by his side, his unwavering presence always a comfort in the harsh, lonely world of warriors. Chiaotzu had been more than a friend; he was a brother, a companion in the battle against the isolation that Tien often imposed on himself. They had fought together, suffered together, and shared quiet moments of peace that no one else could understand.
Now, that closeness felt like a distant echo. The farmhouse was quiet, but it was the absence of Chiaotzu's laughter, his small but determined voice, that made it feel so much emptier.
'You were always there,' Tien thought as his eyelids grew heavy with the pull of sleep. 'Now, it's just me.'
. . . . . . . . . ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .
Dende was flying with his arms forward, the map now safely tucked in his bag. He could see a huge boulder come near. The kid dissipated his aura. "Yes, he should be around here somewhere."
Dende flew above the boulder, carefully examining it. However, there was no sign of Mr Popo or the spaceship.
Meanwhile, Gohan observed, as a little green boy flew above them, going back and forth as if searching for something. The boy was left in wonders. "Gosh. He looks just like a miniature Piccolo!"
Dende, meanwhile, after looking around for a good minute, was done searching. 'I think he's already left.' He sighed. What a waste. 'No need to spend more time out here,' he thought as he turned around and prepared to leave.
"Hey! Wait up!"
"Huh?" The little Namekian looked around in confusion.
"Here! Down here!" shouted Gohan, waiving his arms.
To be continued...