Kakarot was waking up. At first, he couldn't remember where he was. He only knew it was cold where he was nestled in tight. When his round eyes fluttered open, he saw to his right the grayscale of starry space and his pod's metallic interior, while to his left, those same sights were tinted orange.

Where he'd been and what he had accomplished over the first eight years of his short life slowly started coming back to him as the feminine voice of his ship's programming filled his ears for a second time. "Wake up, Kakarot."

Kakarot removed the scouter cupped around his left ear to make room for his opposing fist rubbing into his bleary eyes.

"Welcome home to Planet Vegeta. Congratulations on returning from your first mission."

Kakarot replaced the scouter before licking his dry lips, "so this is Planet Vegeta, huh?"

"Yes, Kakarot. This is your home planet."

"Yeah, you said that already." Kakarot rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms over the hard-plated armor stretched across his small chest. "Home."

With a wistful sigh, Kakarot turned curious eyes out the curved, tiny window of his space pod. What Kakarot remembered most about his planet was leaving it years ago. His memories of the green and blue Earth were much more vivid, though he knew that planet wasn't home. It would never be home, now that he left it in the greedy hands of the planet trade, as ordered.

As Kakarot's approach drew near, Vegeta's red, swirling atmosphere grew to swallow the view out his window. After staring in awe at the red planet, he blinked when his ship began vibrating.

"Entering Vegeta's atmosphere. Kakarot," Kakarot scrunched his face as symbols began flashing across his scouter, reflecting off and tampering the view out his window, "King Vegeta calls for your presence."

"King Vegeta?"

Kakarot wrinkled his nose as the symbols in his scouter flashed details of his orders and further directions while beeping in his left ear. He wondered what would happen if he dismissed the course mapped out and instead ran off to go where he wanted the instant he landed. He wanted to fight someone. He wanted to eat something. He'd been stuck in stasis in this cramped space pod for months. The last thing he wanted to do upon arrival was meet with the king. Whatever this was about, it couldn't be good.

"Prepare for landing."

Gritting his teeth, Kakarot closed his eyes. The approach was dizzying, as the closer he came to land, the faster he felt he was going and the more his space pod rattled. Closing his eyes was a lousy attempt at lessening the churning in his stomach.

There was a jolt as his ship made impact, sinking into the flexible landing pad before bouncing back to ground level. The hiss of the airlock sounded the instant his ship stilled, while Kakarot opened his eyes to see light seeping in from his lifting hatch.

Kakarot tapped his scouter to confirm and end the beeping message. Outside, the air was thick with humidity. When Kakarot stretched his small legs and stepped out of his pod, he turned heel on the vast gray tarmac with completely different intentions than heading into the palace straight ahead.

"Kakarot," a gruff voice called from behind him. "Where do you think you're going?"

With a harrumph, Kakarot peered sidelong at the expansive regal building all the way across the launch pad and stilled. "I just got here."

"And you've been summoned to King Vegeta, Third Class. Get moving, brat."

Grinding his teeth, Kakarot turned to the gravelly voice addressing him so demeaningly. He craned his neck to view the face of the overbearingly tall man in elite armor scowling down at him with a goatee, purple-lensed scouter, and bald head.

"I said get moving!" The guard shouted. "After botching your first mission, you're not going to keep the king waiting for your lazy hide."

"I completed my mission."

The taller man's mustache-lined lip pulled on one side as he smirked. "You missed a few, kid. And it took you nearly a decade to finish off a bunch of puny-"

"They weren't all puny."

The larger man's eyes widened when Kakarot narrowed his. He may have been a kid, and he may have been third class, but he wasn't going to let this guy talk down to him about his power level or his mission on Earth.

The man studied Kakarot before tapping his scouter. "King Vegeta, Nappa here. I have Bardock's kid. He's on his way now."

Bumping his fist to his heart, Kakarot shot the elite a smirk. "Thanks, Nappa."

When he turned towards the architecturally impressive building running alongside the tarmac, Kakarot frowned at the sound of footsteps following after him. Even more annoying than being escorted across the tarmac by an elite guard, or being summoned to see the king the moment he returned from his mission, was the thought of being deemed a failure. He knew there was not another living soul on that planet before he left it. There had been nothing picked up by his scouter, no sign of life anywhere on Earth when he left it months ago. This had to be a mistake.

With a sigh, Kakarot addressed the heavy footsteps behind him. "Are you going to follow me all the way there?"

"It's right this way," Nappa said before stepping forward and reaching for a button on the curve of royal blue wall.

Kakarot turned towards the hiss of an airlock release as the door by Nappa's hand slid open. Kakarot was now facing a long interior hall with a red carpet and more dark blue walls. Pursing his lips, Kakarot balled his fists and proceeded into the hall. He'd explain to the king that he didn't fail.

At his hurried pace, with Nappa's footsteps following after him, Kakarot reached a door with a royal emblem in no time. He didn't wait for Nappa's instruction, but reached for the button beside it in the same way Nappa had. The door opened to expose to him two men waiting inside.

Kakarot recognized the king immediately, not just because of his position seated in the center of the room and his wearing a cape and royal crested armor, but also because Kakarot recognized the stern face. It was an image that had been sent to his ship during his travels so he would know who to bow to when he rejoined his people on Vegeta.

Kakarot also recognized the other man, who looked like a grown version of himself with a scar on the cheek of his worried face and red scarf around his head. That other man was not an elite, but he also needed no introduction. Kakarot remembered his father, Bardock.

"Kakarot," the king smiled, "have a seat."

Kakarot's eyes darted to his father, whose gaze was fixed on him. "No, thanks. I'd rather stand."

"Kakarot," Bardock hissed.

The king shrugged. "Suit yourself. Do you know why I called you here, boy?"

Kakarot glanced at Nappa standing over his shoulder in the doorway, then at his father standing tall by the king's side. Behind his father and the king, a panoramic screen hung on the wall of the confined room, with satellite images from another planet. Judging by the masses of water, Kakarot could've sworn it was Earth up on that screen. But that couldn't be right, or at least it couldn't be current. There was a cluster of red blips in one segment of the image, each indicating low to moderate power levels - indicating life.

"You called me here because," Kakarot took a deep breath and let it out, "someone made a mistake."

"Yes." King Vegeta nodded. "You."

"No."

"Yes," Nappa growled.

Kakarot cast the guard a glare before turning his scowl on the king. "I followed my orders."

"There were survivors." The king turned to the screen over his head, waving a white-gloved hand just before the cluster of red blips on the colorful screen disappeared, causing him to startle. "Nappa, what happened to the survivors?"

"Uh-I don't know, Sire."

"I'm telling you," Kakarot growled, "there were no survivors."

King Vegeta bared his teeth as Nappa murmured into his scouter, demanding to someone that the image be refreshed. The screen turned black before the holographic map reappeared, exactly as it had been seconds ago - free of any signs of life. The planet was barren. Just how Kakarot remembered leaving it.

Kakarot smirked and crossed his arms. "See?"

"No," the king grumbled, narrowing his eyes pensively, "there was life on that planet."

"King Vegeta," Nappa said with his finger still pressed into his scouter, "I just received word of an unregistered ship deploying from Planet Earth."

"Ah," the king smiled, "so that's where they went. Your survivors seem to be getting away, Kakarot. Maybe I should send you back to finish the job."

Kakarot bit his lip so hard he could taste blood on his tongue, yet he managed to maintain his cool as he stared down the king and his gloating smile. He could tell by the widening of Bardock's eyes and subtle shake of his head that it was not the time to lash out at the king. But Kakarot couldn't help himself.

"I just traveled all the way back here. I've already spent eight years on that mudball," Kakarot said through clenched teeth. "Have someone else take care of them if you care so much, someone who's already in that quadrant!"

King Vegeta rubbed his hand across his bearded chin. "Do you know how these survivors escaped you?"

"Even if there were survivors, does it matter?" Kakarot bared his teeth. "The planet's dead. The Planet Trade can sell it."

"I suppose you're right." The king turned a glare on Bardock, who tensed as the king turned back to Kakarot. "But let this be a lesson to you, Boy. Never return from a mission leaving survivors behind. You stay as long as it takes to finish your purge."

"The purge was-"

"And if you make this mistake again," the king insisted, "someone will pay for it. Whether it is you or someone else."

As the king gave Bardock a pointed look, Kakarot's frown deepened. He didn't appreciate receiving threats from the king, especially not the moment he arrived home. He really didn't appreciate being accused of making such a mistake. He didn't leave survivors on Earth.

With a terse nod to the king and his jaw and fists clenched, Kakarot turned and left the room. Again, he could hear Nappa on his heels before the airlock hissed closed. He hadn't even greeted his father after seeing him for the first time since he was a baby, and here he had to tolerate more of Nappa's presence. The king's keeping his father behind longer was probably a scare tactic. Well, Kakarot wasn't scared. He knew he'd be seeing his father at home eventually.

"Maybe if you get lucky, kid," Nappa chuckled, breaking Kakarot's thoughts, "someday you'll find those Earthlings and get the chance to redeem yourself."

"Lucky." Kakarot scoffed. "If there really are Earthlings out there, they're the ones who're lucky."

Kakarot chalked the error up to technical difficulties, though he knew the king wouldn't, and neither would Nappa. They didn't care about a handful of humans loose in the universe anyway. Yet they believed Kakarot failed to complete that mission, just because of a lousy handful of blips on a screen and one wayward ship. They were jumping to that conclusion because he was a child. Or because he wasn't an elite. One way or another, they were underestimating him.

Kakarot would have future purges to showcase what kind of a fighter he was, what kind of a Saiyan he was, to show the king and stuck-up elites that he was not one to be underestimated. And if it ever did turn out that there was some lucky group of Earthling survivors out there in space, they'd better hope to never cross paths with him.

Ten years later...

The undoubtedly quiet bursts of oxygen propelling their ship through space as they changed course went unheard over the raucous cheers of celebration happening inside. Aside from the fading, handwritten message of hope Chi-Chi scrawled long ago beside the red CC emblem on its surface, the exterior of the ship was round and indiscriminate, like many others. A steadfast beep continued at the ship's console in front of the small group of Earthlings seated before it.

The sound brought a smile to Chi-Chi's face as she threw herself into the empty padded seat beside Yamcha. While listening to her friends' cheers of celebration reverberating off the rounded walls of the ship's main deck, Chi-Chi fixed her gaze on the small cluster of dots flashing on a green planet located within the holographic galaxy spread across the screen.

"This is it!" Bulma laughed as she stepped up behind Yamcha and draped her arms around his broad, armor-clad shoulders. "We've finally found them!"

Yamcha smiled up at her. "They really do exist."

"What'd I tell you all? If anyone was going to find them, it'd be me."

Chi-Chi's smile widened as she looked up to meet Bulma's knowing gaze. Bulma could share this achievement more closely with Chi-Chi than anybody, because Chi-Chi was the one who always had faith that they'd find something, even at times when things seemed hopeless. Maybe it was because she was naïve; maybe it was because she and Oolong were the only real children when they left Earth, and Oolong was cynical by nature. Her father, Yamcha and Puar were optimistic, too, but other factors gave them doubts. Factors like the monsters out there invading distant planets, as one once invaded the Earth.

"Ooh!" Mrs. Brief squealed from the port off the main deck. "This calls for a celebration!"

Chi-Chi rose from her seat. "I'll help you put something together, Mrs. Brief."

The older woman pivoted on her heels with a squinty-eyed smile on her pretty face as she led the way to the kitchen. Chi-Chi supposed Mrs. Brief and Dr. Brief were both pretty optimistic too, but like Master Roshi's friend Turtle, they weren't much help to their mission of seeking more of those magical orbs which once saved their lives back on Earth. Bulma's parents also weren't very cognizant of the bleakness of their reality, so being optimistic had to come easier to them.

After giving one last appreciative glance to Bulma, Chi-Chi let her eyes flit past the prominent screen and across all the other faces watching her before turning to follow Mrs. Brief. She could hear conversation resume as she left the main deck, with tones of jubilation and relief characterizing everyone's voices.

This certainly was cause for celebration. For too long, their small group had been the only Earthlings left, the only ones fortunate to escape that monster. But with this new information, where before there was only empty space and a tightly crammed spaceship to call home, there was now a sliver of hope for something better.

It only took a moment for Chi-Chi to traverse the short hall leading to the kitchen. Surrounded by Dr. Brief's practical design of bright lights on the ceiling and silver metal walls lined by metal cabin entryways controlled by buttons at her sides, Chi-Chi knew this wasn't the most scenic environment. But it was Chi-Chi's home she shared with her father and friends, who really were more family to her now than she would've ever imagined.

When she reached the tiny kitchen, Chi-Chi found Mrs. Brief with her head buried in the only upper cabinet located beside the refrigerator. Mrs. Brief paused at the sound of Chi-Chi's footsteps, curling her fingers around the door of the metal cabinet before peeking her head out from behind it.

Chi-Chi crossed her arms over the dark armor breastplate she wished was a softer, feminine material, like the pastel pink daydress Mrs. Brief was wearing. Unfortunately, Chi-Chi and Yamcha were the ones most often stepping out of the ship, the ones who could fight well enough to pass themselves off as Planet Trade soldiers and fit into the two uniforms they'd managed to steal without looking out of place among other soldiers. Therefore, she always remained dressed to play that role. There was no telling when an emergency would arise or a video feed confrontation would come about to question their unregistered ship. The uniform was a constant necessity, though it sickened her to wear the same style as those mass murderers.

"So, Mrs. Brief." Chi-Chi sighed and ran a hand through the wisps of bangs falling into her eyes. "What are we making?"

"Oh, Chi-Chi," Mrs. Brief pressed a hand to her cheek, "can you check what we have in the stock supply?"

Raising her brows, Chi-Chi stepped to the side, where an automatic door off the kitchen led to the supply pantry. When she pressed her thumb against the door panel, the door slid up to reveal a wall of darkness. Chi-Chi's first step forward echoed through the small compartment, indicating before she even switched on the overhead light that the supply was low. As brightness flooded the room and Chi-Chi untwined her fingers from the dangling metal cord, her eyes scoured the supplies for anything which could be used in a celebratory meal.

On the ground at the far wall, Chi-Chi spotted a lone sack of komugi, something they'd long ago discovered as a passable substitute for Earth's flour. Rubbing her chin, Chi-Chi narrowed her eyes and tried to decide what she could do with what was available to her. She thought perhaps she'd find ingredients to bake a cake, which was one of Mrs. Brief's favorite pastimes, but nothing else here looked useful. With a sour frown, she turned from the stock supply to see Mrs. Brief with her hands on her hips in the middle of the kitchen.

"No luck?"

"No." Chi-Chi forced a smile, like Mrs. Brief was already doing. "I guess we'll be celebrating over the standard dinner."

"That's all right!" Mrs. Brief turned to reach into the lower cabinet, banging and clanking pots and pans.

Chi-Chi reached for the refrigerator door, sharing her disappointed expression with the refrigerator's contents when the cool air hit her face. They would once again be cooking and eating yet another night of rationed soup with dried, gamy alien meat.

"Can I help?"

The warm, deep voice from the hall brought a smile to Chi-Chi's face, even in light of the disappointing discovery. "Dad."

"I'll do the cooking tonight," her father said, "if you ladies are looking for a break."

"Oh." Mrs. Brief giggled. "Aren't you sweet, Ox King."

Reaching for the chunk of cold meat near her face, Chi-Chi hardened her gaze and yanked the meat from the fridge. "I think we have it covered. We can handle this."

A heavy hand landed on Chi-Chi's shoulder before the door swung closed. "Chi-Chi, you should take a break. I...I think Bulma needs to see you anyway."

"Bulma?" Chi-Chi blinked as her father pried the cold, heavy chunk of meat from her fingers.

"Yeah," her father propped the meat in one massive palm while rubbing the other across the back of his thick neck, "they're talking about where we're heading next."

"Oh."

While Chi-Chi masked her expression, her father's eyes averted from her gaze. "I'll take care of dinner."

Frowning, Chi-Chi pressed herself against the refrigerator door while her father brushed past her, his broad shoulders barely fitting through the narrow alley between the counter and refrigerator with Chi-Chi standing there. His hesitance in telling her to go see Bulma, in letting her know this was about where they were headed, already had Chi-Chi disappointed. After this great discovery, there should've been no question they were heading to Namek. But that wasn't the case. Something was wrong.

As Mrs. Brief started prattling on to her father, Chi-Chi narrowed her eyes and slipped out the kitchen door without so much as a glance behind her. She was determined now to find out what Bulma's plan was, and exactly why that plan did not involve heading directly to Namek and finding those Dragon Balls.

Her gold-toed pointed boots tapped loudly as she stormed through the hall, into the wide open space of the main deck. At the same table she'd earlier left, Master Roshi now sat explaining something to Turtle and Puar with that serious look on his face that Chi-Chi knew too well. The man could be a pervert at times, but he was also a wise martial arts master who'd come closer to defeating that giant ape than anyone else back on Earth. Chi-Chi knew when it was time to take him seriously.

She slowed her pace while she observed those three, so deeply invested in Master Roshi's quiet murmurs that they seemed unaware of Chi-Chi's presence. They also seemed ignorant to Bulma and Yamcha's presence, though they were probably only acting that way to give those two a sense of privacy. There wasn't much privacy on the ship as it was. Chi-Chi's gaze, fixing on Bulma, softened as her feet drew to a stop. It was rare to see Bulma, who was usually full of focus and determination, smiling so easily. But it would happen in Yamcha's presence, when she wrapped her arms around him as she was doing. Chi-Chi liked to catch those fleeting moments. She often wondered how it felt. Not with Yamcha; he was like an older brother as much as Bulma was like an older sister, and from Chi-Chi's perspective, he was absolutely in love with Bulma. But she wished she could know how it felt with someone.

Chi-Chi's eyes widened when Yamcha's dark eyes shot to her watchful gaze. He was just a breath away from planting a kiss on Bulma's neck when his cheeks flushed pink and he slowly freed Bulma from his embrace. Chi-Chi turned away, her black ponytail flicking across her back with the suddenness of her action. She felt ashamed for watching them now, but it seemed Yamcha felt just as ashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed about. At least he'd experience love before he died, possibly even have children of his own with Bulma one day. Chi-Chi would have none of that if this wish didn't happen. The only other men alive, aside from humanoid aliens who always differentiated just enough to make Chi-Chi uncomfortable, like those Saiyans with their tails and transformations, were her father, Dr. Brief, and Master Roshi. And as much as Master Roshi and maybe even Dr. Brief would entertain the idea of fathering Chi-Chi's children, she would have none of that. Though in the face of an existence completely void of a family of her own, the last resort wasn't that worse of an alternative.

Chi-Chi had to swallow those feelings and push them aside before she clenched her fists and approached the others. She had no time for worrying about love or lust while her survival was constantly at stake. Any one of them could be killed if they weren't careful out there, what with Planet Trade soldiers running rampant all over the universe. She had a job to do now.

As Chi-Chi stopped at Bulma's and Yamcha's sides, Bulma swept her short, blue hair from her eyes and issued Chi-Chi a smile which was sympathetic and hurtful all at once. There was true sympathy which Bulma conveyed, though the root of that sympathy was what pained Chi-Chi. Bulma was Chi-Chi's confidant, her closest friend, and the only other girl who had grown into a woman on that ship. She knew, better than anybody, the disappointment Chi-Chi felt which she was working so hard to hide. Though she remained strong, it was impossible to hide her feelings from Bulma, who could read her like an open book.

"Chi-Chi," Bulma said.

"Ah." Master Roshi gasped. "I hope this won't upset you, Chi-Chi, but we have some plans to discuss, it seems."

Chi-Chi crossed her arms and scowled. "So I gathered. What now?"

At Chi-Chi's hostility, Master Roshi's bottom lip quivered. "I-it isn't my fault this time."

"No." Bulma stood and smoothed the wrinkles in her knee-length dress. "It's not his fault, Chi-Chi. I guess you could say it's mine."

"Aw," Yamcha said, "don't say that, Babe."

"The ship's not going to make it to Namek," Bulma confessed. "I might've underestimated how much fuel we would need."

"Then we'll get more fuel," Chi-Chi insisted.

Chi-Chi didn't miss the uneasy glance Bulma exchanged with the others before turning to her. "We can do that but-"

"You know what getting more supplies requires, Chi-Chi," Master Roshi interrupted with a stroke of his beard.

Puar flew to Yamcha's side, sweeping his tail across the wide, white table. "But we have to land somewhere! We're low enough on food, as it is."

"Speaking of which," Turtle said with a smile, "what's this celebratory meal you and-"

"Fine." Chi-Chi bristled at the reminder of dinner before stubbornly turning her eyes from Turtle's amicable gaze to Yamcha's stern frown. "We'll make one last run."

With a curt nod, Yamcha agreed. They needed more than just fuel, and this run was unavoidable. They had their uniforms and custom fabricated weapons. They knew how to defend themselves if things got messy in the roles they had to play, having been through this countless times before. Chi-Chi was hoping this most recent time had been her last, now that they found the Dragon Balls, but it wasn't.

With a deep breath, Chi-Chi met Bulma's gaze. "What's the job?" Another wary unspoken exchange this time had Chi-Chi's lip curling into a scowl. "Bulma?"

"We've intercepted a contract." Bulma narrowed her eyes. "On a Saiyan, named Brolly."

Chi-Chi balked. "A hit? Are you crazy?"

Raising his hands, Yamcha rushed to speak. "We haven't taken it officially, Chi-Chi."

"We just overheard the transmission," Master Roshi said, "but we have enough information to know what we're going for."

"So we're not obligated." Bulma crossed her arms and issued that sly smile Chi-Chi hated. "No one will even know we're after him until we're collecting this huge payload which'll easily buy us everything we need."

Chi-Chi massaged the heel of her hand into her forehead which was beginning to throb. "You all are overlooking one massive problem."

"Brolly?" Yamcha guessed.

"Yes!" Chi-Chi stomped her foot. "We can't kill a Saiyan!"

"Oh yes we can." Bulma's eyes narrowed while lighting with excitement. "We just have to outsmart him instead of using brute force."

"Bulma."

"Chi-Chi," Bulma countered. "Imagine finally being able to give one of those jerks what they deserve."

Chi-Chi's glare softened. Bulma had a point. A Saiyan had ruined their lives and chased them from their home. He was probably doing the same on other planets over these past years. And the Saiyans who never stepped foot on Earth, they were out destroying other planets and ruining other races, just like every other bloodthirsty race out there fitted by the Planet Trade with armor and scouter communication devices to do their work. If Chi-Chi could give just one Saiyan a taste of the fate they'd suffered, she was all for it. She only wished this Saiyan was the same one who'd purged the Earth, though the chances of ever seeing him again were very slim.

With a grunt and firm nod, Chi-Chi gave her consent. However, this meant they would doubtlessly be traveling into Saiyan territory, maybe even landing on Planet Vegeta if this Brolly could be found at home, as rare as that was for Saiyans. Chi-Chi and Yamcha both could pass themselves off as the vile race, with their black hair and black eyes and how deceptively similar to humans those monsters looked.

She would do it, but she wasn't going to like it. Not until more Saiyans were dead, and more humans could be brought back to life.