Part I - Godling Kin, Revenge and Redemption

*Chapter: Fallen Messenger

Maebure cowered under the metal bunk-shelf, shivering and whimpering like a beaten dog. His sleek, reptilian body was covered with burns and soot, and coiled nearly double in the cramped space. Hot electrical sparks rained down around him. They sizzled as they made contact with the cold deck and bulkheads. Thick smoke poured out of broken machinery and polluted the already stale air. Warning sirens wailed and red lights flashed; he pressed his clawed hands over his ears. He buried his face in his arms.

He was going to die.

Tears streaked down his face. He didn't want to die, not like this. Locked up in a tin can hurtling through space. Oh Great God, how had he ended up here? The week had started so well. He had been awarded a special rest day for his recent labors, had spent it picnicking with his lover and their twin offspring in the Rose Hills. The sun was so warm and their bellies so full, they had fallen asleep under the blue sky.

But then, a dark shadow had fallen over the world. He had opened one eye a slit, expecting to see a stray cloud over the sun. Instead, it had been a warship, flying low to the ground. It had swept past them, a shattering boom trailing the craft, and his lover and offspring had awakened crying out in fear.

Before he could think of anything to comfort them, three beams of red had claimed their lives and a ghoulish creature stood over him. His mind had been frozen in shock. The thing had seemed a spawn of the Death Lord himself. It had jabbered on about how they didn't need weak children and females around but that he might be useful. A perverted chuckle had escaped his lips when he noted the creature itself was female.

He had been carted off to a waiting shuttle and brought aboard another of their warships. He was put to work in some lower level sludge pit. He couldn't even begin to understand what he had been doing, throwing some unidentifiable garbage into a fire hold. Perhaps it was better he didn't try.

The Great God had seen fit not to leave him there long. A few hours later, a rebellion by other slaves had carried him along and left him in a hanger bay with the admonition to deliver a message. Then a bloodied slave had pushed him inside this ship and he had managed to launch it.

The creatures of the warship had not been happy about that. The shuttle had been attacked and again, only because the Great God saw fit to spare him, did he escape by hiding among some asteroids.

And now he was here. His ship failing apart around him, burning wounds all over and a mission he didn't want but didn't dare fail at. He wasn't going to go to Judgment with that on his soul.

A feeble pinging drifted out of the chaos of sound around Maebure. His mind dragged itself away from the dark memories in response. He raised his head and caught a glimpse of a flashing red light. There were plenty of those since the attack by the creatures, but this one brought a sliver of hope to his spirit.

He crawled out from under the bunk and headed toward the cockpit controls. A smile stretched his cracked lips. Yes! Finally, after days of hobbling along in the crippled shuttle, he had arrived at his destination.

New Nameksei.

~~~

A rumbling sort of sound hovered over the fields outside the village. It was a deep thrumming, threading its way through the air and dissipating into a cloudless sky. Various shades of green and red flashed in the sun as arms swung up and down, wielding hoes. Row upon row of Namek-jin plied into the reluctant earth, preparing it for the new spring season. The rumbling spiked on the downswing of their tools and paused a bit when they raised them again, snatches of an ancient language drifted among the laborers.

One of the workers stopped, swiped a broad hand across his sweaty brow and shouldered his hoe. It was almost time for a break. The sun was shining hot today and not even a tiny breath of wind stirred to negate its force. He rubbed the back of his neck. They had been in the fields since early that morning. His muscles were already a bit achy from the chore and he knew his fellows weren't quite as strong as him. He sighed, thinking how nice a cup of water would be.

"What's that? Mako, do you see it!?"

"Hmm?" The worker, Mako, glanced over at his neighbor. An older Namek-jin pointed into the sky, his eyes wide with concern. Mako looked up and saw something shiny fall toward the ground. He dropped his hoe, his face taking on a serious expression. It seemed his break would have to wait. Gathering his ki, Mako leaped into the air and homed in on the object. He grimaced when he sensed a very weak life-force inside.

Mako increased his speed. Gaining on the meteor, he caught glimpses of a badly damaged shuttle through the re-entry flames. He frowned, whoever was inside wasn't going to survive a crash. He flew ahead of the craft and positioned himself between it and the ground. Raising his hands, he pushed as much of his energy as he could into a shield cushion.

The impact of the shuttle against the cushion sent Mako sliding backward through the air, but he managed to keep in front of it. He growled and strained his muscles as he put more of his ki into the shield. The flames around the shuttle licked at the energy barrier, sending waves of intense heat onto his skin. His breathing became ragged, it felt like his lungs were being scorched. Sweat flowed in rivulets over his body. He cursed when the liquid stung his eyes, causing his vision to blur.

Little by little, the shuttle slowed in its descent, but it did not stop. Mako held his position until his feet almost touched the soil. He jumped away at the last second and the craft hit the ground, tearing a path of destruction for a few meters. A cloud of shattered trees, broken rock and dust trailed the object. The screech of metal against stone filled the air. It came to rest, finally, in a meadow dotted with yellow flowers.

Mako quickly landed next to the battered shuttle. He scanned the surface for a hatch. Cursing again, he saw it was half buried in rubble. He locked onto the fading ki inside and, with a small blast, made a new opening.

Smoke billowed from the metal wound. Mako hurried to the make-shift door and peered into the dark interior. Faint scraping, scratching noises emerged from within. He shifted his eyes, trying to follow the sound. He reached into the darkness and was grabbed by an icy hand.

A cobalt scaled being stumbled out of the opening. The creature's hand slipped from Mako's arm and it fell to its knees, drawing in deep breaths of the outside air. The body was covered with burns and green blood seeped from various wounds.

"A Shisha-jin?" murmured Mako. He recalled their planet was far from Nameksei. They also didn't care for space travel. Something terrible must have happened... He knelt beside the off-worlder and offered his hand. "I'm Mako. My village is near here. I'll take you to the healer and you can get some rest."

The Shisha-jin slowly turned his head and gazed at Makow with pain glazed eyes. "I am Maebure," he croaked, a new trickle of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth. "My planet was attacked days ago. I should have died but the Great God spared me. I bring a message: The Shio-jin are coming. They attack everyone in their path, as is their custom... but they come for you and your people."

"What!?" Shock turned Mako's blood cold. Shio-jin...the very name invoked long buried racial memories. The blessing that allowed Namek-jin to pass on knowledge to their young in an instant became a curse. Vague images of death, sounds of pain and feelings of horror threatened to overcome his mind.

Mako squeezed his eyes shut, willing the specters of the past back to their place. He fisted one hand, but he kept the other extended to the wounded Maebure. "You can tell us more later. Come now, let me take you to the healer."

Maebure shook his head. "Why? Why would I do that? You want me to live, after all I've seen and lost?!" He bared his needle sharp teeth at the thought. "Now that I'm on ground again, now that I've delivered my message, I'll let the Great God take my spirit. I'll be with my family, as is my right! And I won't have died in the embrace of cold space."

Mako let his arm drop to his side. Although he hated the thought of willingly doing nothing, he sat down next to the injured Maebure. "Can...can you give me any other details?"

Maebure relaxed and even managed a smile. "I will give you all I know, until my last breath is gone."

*Chapter: Just Another Day in Paradise

Hell was not a fun place to be.

That was the thought that kept going around Piccolo's mind as he meditated. It was dumb, really. He hadn't expected it to be. And since when had he cared whether someplace was fun?

He was going crazy, he had to be. Too much time spent out in the desolate wastelands tended to do that to souls. The utter loneliness, the absolute silence. Not even a small breeze to kick up a dust devil.

But he preferred it out here.

At least here he wasn't bothered by the ranting and raving of tortured souls. He wasn't constantly bumping into the rather bitter enemies he'd helped along to their final destination.

And here those damn ogres weren't around.

Piccolo grit his teeth as he thought of the two brothers who were more or less in charge of this realm. Their moronic babbles and challenges got on his nerves. He hated to be anywhere near them.

Of course, they had decided to adopt the former Demon King as their own.

The universe had a perverse sense of humor.

They had taken pity on him, they said, because he was a special case. He had originally been slated for hell...until he had sacrificed his life for that boy. His case was then put under consideration for possible redemption. Then, after fighting and dying a few more times for his surrogate planet (and the universe), he'd been cleared for heaven.

How he ended up in hell anyway was a long story. Suffice it to say, he did it out of love.

Because of that, the two brothers took his side. It wasn't fair, they said, but rules were rules. And they supposed the whole plan wouldn't have worked out right if he hadn't landed there. So, if he could prove himself reliable, they just might make his stay a little easier.

He had already refused to be resurrected when called by Porunga. He knew that Enma-sama was extremely displeased that Grand Elder Muri had increased the dragon's power to the point that any wish could be granted. He hadn't wanted to bring that kind of displeasure down on his friends, especially Gohan.

Piccolo hadn't known what he was getting himself into. So he had accepted their offer. All he remembered was them mentioning the possibility of being able to continue training and fighting. He thought it would be better than spending eternity with the other lost souls.

He was wrong.

Piccolo had learned quickly enough that they wanted to use him as a brute squad, somebody they could call on to handle the inmates if they got too rowdy. They didn't want a repeat of the Cell and Frieza fiasco.

A familiar ki flickered off in the distance. He grit his teeth harder, to the point he could hear them grinding together. It was Gomez. The only reason he would even come out this far was if they were having a problem. One they hoped he would fix for them.

Piccolo let out an annoyed grunt. Straightening his legs, he floated down to the ground and waited for the demon to approach.

"Ah! Hi there, Piccolo" The creature waved a beefy hand and smiled cheerily. "Thought I'd find you out here!"

Piccolo scowled, waiting for Gomez to deliver his message. He wasn't in the mood for idle talk.

"I'm glad I caught you at a good time," Gomez continued, "We just got another busload of Salt-jin, that war of theirs keeps them coming, and they're a bit...um...unhappy with their destination."

Piccolo closed his eyes and groaned. This was becoming a real nuisance. He should ask if it was permissible to blast them outright. Every time a Salt-jin arrived, alone or with friends, he had to go play babysitter.

"Remember, it's your duty now to keep the new arrivals in line," Gomez pointed out when the Namek didn't immediately move.

"Yeah, yeah," Piccolo sneered. He gathered his ki and shot into what passed for the sky. He didn't bother to check if his employer was offended by his retort. He smirked, though, that he was likely to get a fight out of at least one of the new arrivals. He could use the distraction.

Not moments later, he landed at the arrival area to find several Salt-jin playing havoc with their surroundings. Their wild, silvery hair seemed to flow in non-existent wind. Pale skin, pale eyes and armor crusted with the ever present white crystals of their homeworld.

They overturned, ripped, tore, bent, broke and basically destroyed anything they got their hands on.

He figured if he gave them five more minutes, the two brothers would have to rebuild the entire receiving area.

The idea had merit. Give those annoying beings something else to do besides bother him. He chuckled at the thought. But he realized he would have to listen to an hours long lecture if he did.

That soured his mood enough to get him started. He growled to catch the attention of the rampaging Salt-jin, who apparently hadn't noticed him. They kept on not noticing him, so he barked, "All right! That's enough!"

Several pairs of death-colored eyes swung around and latched onto him. The formerly occupied alien soldiers dropped whatever they had in hand, causing one last cacophony of noise.

Piccolo's jaw clenched, but he otherwise didn't give a hint on how much the banging had hurt his ears. Being dead didn't necessarily free one from pain.

One particularly tall Salt-jin stepped forward. He raked his gaze up and down Piccolo's body. His mouth twisted into a grotesque little smile. "You're a Namek."

Piccolo didn't bother to confirm the obvious. He glowered at the other being.

"Look my fellows," the Salt-jin tossed over his shoulder, obviously amused. "A Namek in hell!"

This was greeted with laughter from the group. The leader indulged in some guffawing of his own before turning back to Piccolo. "I never thought I'd see this. What did you do, Namek? Eat a berry? Wait, I know! An insect! You swallowed a fly!"

More laughter erupted from the Salt-jin. Piccolo's blood began to boil. The previous Salt-jin had tossed off a few snide remarks and veiled insults, but never something so bald. He'd be glad to teach this one a lesson.

"Go ahead and laugh. I'm here to put an end to your little party." He curled his lips, revealing his fangs.

The laughter stopped abruptly, but he didn't fool himself into thinking they had been intimidated. Especially the tall one.

The leader took a few more steps toward Piccolo. "I figured you for a Warrior, Namek. Was that your sin? Actually giving in to a little bloodlust?"

A growl came from deep inside Piccolo's throat. That statement had hit a little too close to the mark. At least, if one considered past actions and the original reason he had been headed to this place.

"Why I'm in hell is none of your business. The only thing you should be concerned with is whether you go under your own power or your 'fellows' carry you."

The twisted smile melted from the Salt-jin's face. "You think you can take me, Namek? Then try." He held out his hand, daring Piccolo to swat it.

Piccolo held back that very urge. He knew he couldn't touch the Salt-jin. As with the previous encounters, he'd have to rely on bluff and cunning to gain control.

The Salt-jin's smile returned, an even worse parody of itself as he flashed black gums and alabaster teeth. "Not today, eh?" He drew his hand back. "Tell me who's brilliant idea it was to send a Namek to contain us? I want to congratulate them on their utter stupidity."

A few more snickers from the rest of the Salt-jin, but most of them kept shifting their eyes between their leader and Piccolo. They didn't want to miss any of the fun.

"I'll agree with the stupidity part," muttered Piccolo. Then loudly, "I don't have time for your baiting game. Shut up and follow me quietly...or get dragged along. Your choice."

"I'd like to see how you would manage the 'dragged along' part," the Salt-jin replied.

Piccolo smirked. "I was hoping you would."

In a flash, he sent two ki blasts at the feet of the Salt-jin. Caught off-guard, the creature jumped, first right then left, to avoid them. By the time he thought to even scowl at Piccolo, the Namek was already charging a makkensopou.

His time in hell had allowed him ample opportunity to perfect the technique and reduce the time needed to prepare an adequate charge. He released the spiral beam, hitting the Salt-jin square in the chest.

The Salt-jin landed with a grunt, having hit the ground since his fellows had decided to get out of the way. He moaned and ran a shaky hand over his battered torso. Then he rolled, coming up on one knee.

"You'll pay for that, Namek," he warned.

Piccolo dropped into a fighting stance. "Bring it on."

The Salt-jin lunged, going for his throat, obviously hoping to make skin to skin contact.

Piccolo threw out another ki blast, using the force to knock the Salt-jin off target. He followed with miniature kenzien disks. The deadly thin projectiles sliced through armor and flesh. The Salt-jin cried out more in rage than pain.

The Salt-jin turned as soon as he touched the ground, sending daggers of white crystal at the Namek.

Piccolo jumped back, sending out an arc of ki to evaporate the crystals before they could touch him. The arc served a double purpose as it forced the Salt-jin to move as well.

Using the distraction, Piccolo sent out a volley of ki balls, surrounding his opponent. Once enclosed in a universe of light, the Salt-jin snarled. Piccolo drew his hands together to command the balls to collapse on their relative center. That is, right at the Salt-jin.

Rocked by numerous explosions, the Salt-jin screamed, flailing in an attempt to ward off at least some of the blasts. He didn't see Piccolo charging one last makkensopou.

Piccolo released the light beam just as the last of the ki balls impacted on the Salt-jin. His opponent had no time to dodge. Hit squarely again, the being collapsed.

Piccolo straightened from his half-crouch position. Crossing his arms, he walked over to the Salt-jin and studied the fallen foe. Satisfied, he turned to the others. "Anyone else want to be difficult?"

The others shook their heads. Apparently, having seen the strongest in their group get wiped out was enough for them.

"Then pick him up and let's go," Piccolo ordered.

A couple of Salt-jin grabbed their leader by the legs and dragged him.

Piccolo smirked, his mood taking a decidedly better turn.

Whoever said hell was no fun?

*Chapter: Devils in Heaven

"Resuma? Resuma! Come on, you're gonna miss it!" A tanned face stuck itself through a break in the forest foliage, followed by a waving hand. A smile broke over the girl's face as she beckoned to her friend. "Come on, come on!"

"All right," Resuma chuckled, "I'm coming, I know." He waved his own hand in answer.

The girl's face disappeared back into the trees, her quick footsteps fading into the night.

Resuma stared after her a moment, then turned back to the awesome view of stars above him.

He'd been doing it again.

He hadn't meant to take this long. He had just wanted a little time to himself to gaze at the heavens. He loved to study the night sky and was always looking for anything unusual or spectacular. But even if he didn't discover anything like that, he still loved to look.

He shook his head and stood up, brushing away stray leaves that clung to his clothes. A stubborn, heart-shaped leaf curled around the tip of his finger. He marveled at how it almost matched the emerald tone of his own skin.

Resuma plucked the leaf off his hand, being careful not to tear it, and let it flutter to the grass below. Then, he followed where his friend had gone. Down a winding trail to a stone ringed garden.

A crowd had already gathered there, talking in low voices, sharing idle news and waiting anxiously for the event of the night.

Resuma took a space next to his friend, who beamed at him. "I'm so excited," she whispered huskily, "I love this!"

"Fina," he winked at her, "This happens every year. Has happened for nearly a thousand years."

Fina's eyes went wide at Resuma's tone. "Because of you! And your father and your grand-father! This is your legacy! I'd think of all people..."

Resuma chuckled. "Fina, I was joking. You, of all people, should know that."

Fina clamped her mouth shut and punched her green friend in the arm. "I should go watch this with mother, if you're going to be like that."

Resuma laughed again, but before he could reply a hush fell over the crowd.

In the center of the garden, a small pinprick of light appeared. It flashed gold, red and white. Then another light joined in. Then another, and another. Until the entire place was filled with twinkling earth-borne stars.

Appreciative "oohs" and "ahhs" drifted from the spectators. The winking lights gradually became a steady glow, as their source became more apparent. Flowers blossoming on tall green stems, unfurled their petals. Petals that had previously hidden the most unique and beautiful ability of those plants.

The center of every bloom shone like a beacon. Some were red, others gold, white, pink, lavender, blue. The display washed the surroundings in a rainbow of colors.

There was a stretch of silence, before the crowd began it's applause. Several came over to Resuma to congratulate him and tell him what a success the garden was this year.

Resuma accepted their handshakes and pats, it would have been rude not too, but he wished they wouldn't make such a fuss. It wasn't as if the garden had been his idea or that he had started it. It wasn't even that he had saved it from weed and ruin.

All he had to do was show up for about two hours every day, water and check for disease (there never was any), then go home.

It felt like he was getting praise for doing nothing.

"Congratulations, Resuma," a voice hissed. The sound was like silk rustling against itself.

It made Resuma mash his teeth but he grinned at the same time. "Thank you, Brine."

The speaker came around to where Resuma and Fina could see him. Tall and muscular, Brine topped Resuma by a few inches. Gray hair framed a very pale face and light blue eyes. His smile promised mayhem rather than friendship.

A smaller, also pale hand snaked around one of Brine's arm. The figure that followed it was sensuous, graceful and female. Sharing features with Brine, it was obvious they were of the same blood. She flashed a grin that matched her taller companion's.

"Very well done, Resuma."

"Thank you, Saline," Resuma managed to get through clenched jaws. "If you'll excuse me..."

"But wait," Brine said. He held out his hand. "I want to shake the very hand of the one that accomplished all this."

Resuma glared at Brine. "He's dead," he spat and stalked off as Brine and Saline's laughter followed him.

"Resuma! Resuma!" Fina grabbed his arm. He slowed so she could keep up. "You shouldn't let them get to you."

Resuma glanced back to see that the pair had taken off. After ruffling his feathers, they probably decided there wasn't anything else worth doing. He stopped and turned to face Fina.

"I just wish they would leave me alone." He exhaled noisily. "One of these days, I'm going to come out to the garden and find it torn up by those two. I know it!"

"Not likely," snorted Fina.

Resuma quirked a hairless eyebrow. He didn't believe that for one second.

"Think about it," Fina said. "It's more fun to them to keep you agonizing over the possibility than actually do it. Besides, they don't want Niagara after their heads, especially for a prank."

"A 'prank'? You'd call destroying a thousand years of work a 'prank'?!"

Fina shook her head and gave a one-sided grin. "Don't get your antennae in a knot." She emphasized by flicking one of his with a fingertip. "You know what I mean. To them it would be."

Resuma rubbed the tip of the antenna absently to get rid of the slight tingle. "I guess so," he grouched. "But their idea of humor and mine are very different."

"Their idea of humor is different from most," Fina corrected. Of course, she thought it would help a lot if Resuma would just admit what started the whole situation between the three anyway. He kept saying he did nothing, but the malice those two held especially for him was not something that just happened.

She shrugged, giving up that train of thought. She'd tried to figure it out on her own. But she couldn't come up with anything. So, rather than having both of them stew over Brine and Saline's unusual habits, she wrapped an arm around his and began leading him back to the garden.

"Forget about them, they've gone home anyway." She tugged on him when he seemed reluctant to follow. "Let's at least enjoy the rest of the celebration."

Resuma smiled slightly and sighed. Fina wouldn't let him brood over it, so he might as well give in. He walked with her back to the garden.

*Chapter: Third Fate Cheated

Chalk up one more for being wrong, Piccolo thought wearily. He had thought he wouldn't get a lecture over the situation involving the tall Salt-jin. After all, he had given the newly arrived soul a chance to do things quietly. It wasn't his fault a Salt-jin had about as much battle lust as a Saiya-jin.

But that wasn't good enough for Gomez, who was taking far too much pleasure in delivering his speech as far as the Namek was concerned.

The furnishings in the room rattled with each step the giant ogre took. Piccolo himself levitated a few inches above the floor, having long ago discovered the vibrations got on his nerves.

"...and you've been here how long now?" Gomez asked.

Piccolo gave himself a mental shake. He had tuned out the lecture because he knew it word for word. He only half-listened so he could respond to the usual questions and hurry things along.

"About 500 years...give or take a decade." He didn't bother to get more specific than that. Thinking about how much time he had already spent in this place made him want to blast something.

"479 I believe it's been," Gomez commented, almost as if he hadn't heard Piccolo's answer. Maybe he was just going through the motions too. They'd done this enough times. "And you still have a slight problem inciting some of the more... violent residents into fighting..."

Piccolo closed his eyes and fumed silently. What did the ogre expect? They were in Hell after all. And he had never agreed to play diplomat. His job was to keep the others from causing too much trouble and he did that. He didn't mind if he had to use a little muscle now and then...

Piccolo stopped midthought as a familiar sensation tickled his mind. It was faint, but present. He tried to concentrate, to bring the feeling into focus. As a result, he missed the next question Gomez presented to him.

"...Piccolo? Piccolo are you listening TO ME!?"

"Huh?" Piccolo snapped out of his mild trance. "Heh...sorry, didn't catch that..."

Gomez glared down at the Namek. "Ahem...as I was saying..."

Unfortunately for the ogre, the strange sensation in Piccolo's mind increased, once again drawing his attention away from the lecture. "There's something strange about this," Piccolo thought.

"PICCOLO!!"

Piccolo nearly clawed his ears at the screech. Instead, he growled at Gomez. "Something's wrong here." He darted out the door before the ogre could say anything else.

Outside, Hell looked pretty much as it had for centuries. Barren, ugly and filled with damned souls. Piccolo looked around, trying to pinpoint the cause of the disturbance. Just as he was about to resign himself to a brand new lecture by Gomez, a brilliant light shone down from above.

"Piccolo!" The name boomed and echoed.

"Damn it! Can't anybody whisper around here!?" Piccolo swore. He gazed upward and froze.

Porunga hovered above him.

"Ah! What?"

"Piccolo, the time has come for you to be released from Hell," the dragon stated.

"Released?" Piccolo frowned. "Who releases me? Anyone who would wish me out died years ago."

"...Not so. You have been remembered by you people. They have kept the stories of your battles alive. Now they ask your help. A race called the Shio-jin are bent on destroying them. You refused this wish once...will you do so again?"

There wasn't a second of hesitation. "No," Piccolo said.

A light enveloped Piccolo's body, transporting him out of that realm. As he faded, he heard Gomez calling out, "Where are you going? Come back...come ba-ack!"

Fresh air...fresh, clean, full of living scents air. Gods...it had been a long time since he had experienced that. Piccolo lowered the arm he had used to shield his eyes from the light of Porunga. Soft green sky and blue ground greeted his sight. A breeze ruffled his cape, making the white fabric rustle quietly. After nearly half a millennium in the deadness of Hell, these small sensations were almost overwhelming.

"You've made it!" a voice exclaimed.

Piccolo turned to look behind him. A single Namek-jin stood there. "...who are you? Are you the one who wished me back?"

The Namek-jin nodded. "I'm called Mako. And yes, I was the one who brought you back."

Piccolo frowned. "Somehow, I thought there would be a few more here to meet me."

"I hope you can understand...there hasn't been Namek-jin warrior to equal you since, well, since you yourself were alive. I'm the closest thing this planet has to a defender."

Piccolo scowled, "What does that mean?"

Mako cringed, ever so slightly, but did not back down. "Some of the others weren't entirely convinced bringing you back was a good idea. They thought since you ended up in Hell..."

"Hmph." Piccolo turned away from Mako. Great, just great. "So...where are the Shio-jin that are threatening the planet?"

"They aren't on Nameksei, but are coming this way. The last planet that we are certain they've passed is Shisha. It's because one of them escaped here that we even knew."

Piccolo rounded angrily on Mako. "And just what am I supposed to do until they get here?"

"Until they get here?" Mako questioned. "You aren't staying here, Piccolo. We can't stand by as they Shio-jin destroy every planet in their quest to reach us. We have built a ship so that you can go to them."

Piccolo stared at Mako. They wanted him to fight in a ship? He didn't know anything about that!

Disclaimer - Dragon Ball was created by Akira Toriyama and the anime Dragon Ball/Z/GT is licensed/distributed by Toei, FUNimation and various entities. This is a fan page, no infringement is intended.

All original content copyright © 2003-2007 Devon Aster