Escallion lifted three of the massive, smooth Dragon Balls beneath one arm as effortlessly as if they were pebbles, while Gohan cradled two in his arms, his small frame straining slightly to balance their weight as they carried them back toward the shadow of Frieza's ship.
The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of their boots against the Namekian grass. Gohan kept glancing up at the tall Saiyan beside him, taking in the sharp silhouette of the stark white imperial armor over the jet-black bodysuit.
"Escallion?" Gohan spoke up quietly, his voice hesitant.
"Speak," Escallion replied, his gaze fixed straight ahead on the ship's airlock.
"My dad... he doesn't really talk about where he came from; I don't think he even knows," Gohan said, adjusting his grip on the two giant spheres. "And Piccolo never knew anything about his people either until we got here. What was your home world actually like? What were the Saiyans like before... before Frieza?"
Escallion paused for a fraction of a second, his stride unbroken, though his dark eyes narrowed slightly.
"It was a harsh world," Escallion said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly tone. "A planet with ten times Earth's gravity, covered in jagged red soil and endless stone architecture. It forged a warrior race. Strength was our only currency. Weakness was not tolerated, nor was it pitied."
Gohan swallowed hard, looking down at his boots. "Sounds scary. Did... did everyone just fight all the time?"
"We were conquerors," Escallion answered plainly, without a trace of pride or shame. "Under King Vegeta, we were a brilliant warrior race; under Frieza's mandate, we became hunting dogs and mercs; we wiped out entire civilizations to clear worlds for the highest bidder. We measured a newborn child's worth the moment they took their first breath, assigning them to battle classes based on their latent power level. Kakarot was possibly born with a power level so low he was deemed trash, sent to a weak planet like Earth simply to purge its native population."
Gohan flinched slightly, stopping near the base of the ship's ramp. "My dad would never do that!"
"And he didn't," Escallion said, stopping beside him and setting the three Dragon Balls down with a soft, solid thud. "For some strange reason, he did not. I have no clue what occurred to him on that planet. But it fundamentally changed how a Saiyan should act."
Escallion turned his head, his black eyes locking onto Gohan's similarly colored ones.
"Planet Vegeta was destroyed because our pride blinded us to Frieza's true intentions," Escallion continued smoothly, his voice laced with a quiet, dangerous weight. "We never saw it coming. For years, he kept me, Nappa, Vegeta, and Raditz out of the loop. I had a hunch, but it was only recently I confirmed it."
"What hunch is that?" Gohan asks, setting down his balls.
"Frieza destroyed Planet Vegeta with his own two hands; he turned our home to ash in a single night." Escallion walks back to the crevice, picking up the remaining two but continuing to speak with Gohan.
Gohan looked down at the gleaming white chest plate of his own Frieza Force armor, then back up at Escallion. "Do you... miss it?"
Escallion didn't answer immediately, rolling the last dragon balls into position beside the others near the ship's entry hatch, creating a tight cluster of seven glowing spheres.
"I do not miss the conquering," Escallion said softly, his dark hair shifting in the Namekian breeze. "I think of the potential of what we could have become. Being here on this peaceful planet has taught me that we could have been so much more than conquerors or mercenaries. But the past is dead. What remains of our race sits right here, healing in that pod, standing on this dirt, and fighting to tear down the monster who stole our future."
He motioned toward the ship's entrance. "Get inside and monitor Kakarot's pod. I will hold the perimeter until Krillin returns."
Gohan nodded, deciding to give his fellow Saiyan some space. Walking back into the ship.
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Escallion didn't even turn his head as the crunch of boots hit the dirt behind him. He remained motionless, standing guard over the seven glowing Dragon Balls clustered near the ship's entrance, his arms crossed over his chest.
Vegeta stepped out from the dust, his battle armor scorched and battered, his breathing slightly heavy. A dark, vicious smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, though his eyes burned with a restless, chaotic energy.
"Blew off some steam?" Escallion asked smoothly, his voice flat and unbothered.
Vegeta let out a sharp, dark chuckle, wiping a streak of dried blood and dust from his cheek with the back of his glove. "You could say that. I wiped out all of the Lingering trash nearby. Looking for the-"
Vegeta's smirk faltered slightly as his eyes swept over Escallion, taking in the pristine, jet-black bodysuit and stark white armor. Then, his gaze dropped to the ground behind Escallion.
All seven Dragon Balls sat gathered in the dirt, pulsing with a faint, golden light.
Vegeta's eyes widened, his posture instantly stiffening. "The Dragon Balls... you gathered all seven of them?!"
"Kakarot's son and the Earthling retrieved them from beneath the ship while I dealt with Ginyu," Escallion replied smoothly, turning his head to lock his sharp, yellow-tinted eyes onto Vegeta. "They are secure. But you are late."
Vegeta sneered, stepping forward, his eyes gleaming with frantic greed as he stared at the glowing orbs. "It doesn't matter! They're right here! We summon the Dragon now! I'm taking my immortality before Frieza gets here!"
"You will do no such thing," Escallion said, stepping casually into Vegeta's path, his dark silhouette completely blocking the royal prince from the Dragon Balls.
"Get out of my way, Escallion!" Vegeta barked, his aura flaring with sudden, violent hostility. "We don't have time for your games!"
"It isn't a game, Vegeta," Escallion said, his voice dropping an octave, heavy with absolute authority. "The Earthling tried to summon it. The artifact is locked behind a Namekian password. Krillin has already gone to fetch the child who knows the incantation."
Vegeta froze, his teeth grinding together so hard his jaw visibly twitched. "A... a password?!"
"Precisely," Escallion said, folding his arms over his chest, "So calm yourself, Prince. Kakarot is healing in the pod, the balls are guarded, and the key is on its way. Control your temper and save your energy for Frieza."
He cast one last furious glance at the seven glowing orbs before brushing past Escallion toward the airlock. "Fine. But the moment that bald fool gets back with the kid, you wake me up. If you summon that dragon without me, Escallion, I'll blow this entire planet to dust."
"Go wash off the dirt, Vegeta," Escallion replied without turning around, his eyes remaining locked on the distant sky. "Your threats are exhausting, and you reek of dried blood."
Vegeta growled under his breath, his heavy boots echoing sharply down the metallic corridor as he headed toward the armory and hygiene bay.
Inside the ship's armory, Vegeta tore off his shattered, scorched chest plate, hurling the ruined armor against the steel wall where it clattered to the deck. He stepped into the shower bay, letting the harsh cleansing mist wash away the grime, sweat, and dried blood from his recent battles.
Minutes later, he emerged, fresh and completely restored. He pulled on a dark navy long-sleeved undersuit, then stepped into the new shoulderless white Frieza Force chest armor. It featured thick, orange-brown ribbed plating across the abdomen, bordered by clean white paneling and a dark collar band. He pulled on crisp white gloves, slid on the white boots, and rested his hands firmly on his hips.
He turned and walked into the medical bay, leaning his shoulder against the bulkhead as he stared through the glass of the pod at Goku, who was still floating quietly in the bubbling green fluid.
"How the tables have turned; I could kill you within an instant as you are now," Vegeta said, his voice dripping with dark amusement as his eyes tracked Goku's motionless form in the liquid.
Gohan, who was standing nearby monitoring the pod's control console, whirled around and looked at Vegeta in sheer bewilderment. He instinctively dropped his hands into a defensive stance, his wide eyes darting between the Saiyan prince and his father's fragile healing chamber.
"Vegeta! You-you wouldn't!" Gohan stammered, his small voice echoing off the metallic walls of the medical bay. "After everything? My dad saved you! He's the only reason we even have a chance against Frieza!"
Vegeta didn't even turn his head to acknowledge the boy. He simply let out a low, mocking scoff, crossing his arms over his ribbed chest plate as a cruel smirk played on his lips.
"Calm down, brat. I said I could, not that I will," Vegeta sneered, shifting his weight against the bulkhead. "Killing Kakarot while he's floating like a drowned fish offers me no satisfaction. Besides, Escallion is right about one thing... Frieza is almost here. Destroying our strongest asset right before the tyrant arrives would be foolish, even for a lower-class warrior like your father."
Gohan didn't lower his guard, his knuckles white as he stared down the prince. "You better not try anything."
"Save your breath, boy," Vegeta growled, his dark eyes narrowing as he stared back into the bubbling green fluid.
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The sky above Grand Elder Guru's house turned heavy and suffocating as Frieza's hovering pod descended through the pale Namekian clouds. The tyrant's arrival was marked not by speed or aggression, but by an eerie, casual arrogance. He floated down gracefully, stepping out of his pod to rest his bare feet onto the alien soil, his white-and-purple imperial form gleaming under the triple suns.
Frieza folded his arms behind his back, his long tail sweeping slowly across the grass like a coiled serpent. His blood-red eyes locked onto the towering stone dwelling before him, an amused, cruel smile playing across his lips.
"I know you can hear me inside," Frieza called out, his voice smooth, refined, and laced with absolute malice. "I have traveled quite a distance to speak with your leader. It seems my entire vanguard has disappeared. And your wish-granting orbs, I demand to know the secret to making them work and where my men have gone."
From the shadows of the massive stone doorway, a single tall, muscular figure stepped out to block the entrance.
Nail stood firm, his dark green skin tight across his broad chest, his arms wrapped in crisp white cloth. Unlike the peaceful, agrarian Namekians Frieza had slaughtered across the countryside, Nail's eyes burned with the hard, uncompromising steel of a true warrior. His Ki flared outward, a pure, intense white aura that rippled through the air, stirring the grass around his boots.
"You will step no closer to the Grand Elder, monster," Nail said, his voice flat and resolute as he raised his hands into a sharp combat stance.
Frieza raised an eyebrow, letting out a soft, mocking laugh that echoed across the quiet landscape. "Oh? A defender. How delightful. Tell me, do you truly believe that you are going to protect your elder from me?"
Nail knew he couldn't let their battle destroy the Grand Elder's dwelling. Looking past the tyrant, Nail pointed toward the horizon. "If you want your answers, monster, you will follow me. I will not spill blood on sacred ground."
Without waiting for a response, Nail kicked off the ground, blasting away like a green streak toward a desolate, stone-pitted wasteland miles away.
Frieza let out an amused, quiet chuckle. "How noble," he purred, floating casually after the Namekian without even raising his speed, taking the bait completely.
They touched down on a barren plain of cracked earth and jagged rock pillars. Nail instantly dropped into a low, heavy fighting stance, his aura flaring white as he unleashed his full forty-thousand power level.
"Let us begin," Nail growled.
Frieza didn't even drop his hands from behind his back. "A valiant effort," the tyrant said smoothly, stepping forward with terrifying speed.
Nail lunged, throwing a devastating right hook aimed straight for Frieza's head. Frieza didn't dodge; he simply absorbed the strike directly on his neck. The shockwave shattered the stone ground beneath their feet, but Frieza's head barely moved.
Before Nail could pull back, Frieza smashed a brutal elbow into Nail's ribs, the sickening crack of bone echoing across the empty plain. Nail gasped, blood spraying from his lips as Frieza gripped him by the throat, slamming him hard into the dirt.
"Is this the absolute best your race has to offer?" Frieza mocked, looking down at the battered warrior pinned beneath his boot. "How disappointing."
While Nail bought precious minutes with his life on the distant plains, Krillin touched down quietly on the balcony of Guru's house, his boots making a soft thud against the stone.
Dende rushed out into the sunlight, his small hands trembling, his eyes wide with fear as he recognized the Earthling. "Krillin! You came back! Is... is the monster gone?"
"Dende! Listen to me, we don't have much time!" Krillin pleaded, rushing forward and grabbing the young Namekian by his shoulders. "Nail drew Frieza away, but he can't hold him off forever! We've gathered all seven Dragon Balls near Frieza's ship, but we can't summon the Dragon! It needs a password in the Namekian language!"
Dende blinked, realization dawning on him. "The password... yes! Only a Namekian can invoke the power of Porunga!"
"Please, Dende, you have to come with me right now!" Krillin urged frantically, looking over his shoulder toward the distant horizon where shockwaves were tearing through the sky. "Goku is healing, and if we can summon the Dragon and make our wishes before Frieza gets back, we can save your planet and bring everyone back!"
Dende looked toward the direction Nail had gone, tears welling in his eyes as he felt his energy fading fast under Frieza's brutal assault. Settling his small jaw with sudden determination, Dende nodded firmly.
"I'll go with you," Dende said. "Let's save Namek!"
Without wasting another second, Krillin and Dende took off into the air, flying low to the ground to keep their energy masked as they rushed back toward the ship.