After several days of space travel and a minor detour, Rhode and Aira finally crossed the stellar currents and saw their destination: a planet of brilliant emerald green, hanging like a jewel in the void—Namek.
Sizzle! Sizzle! Sizzle!
The ship tore through the atmosphere. Rhode looked out upon a world largely untouched by industry, a landscape dominated by rolling fields of strange, lush vegetation and vast, tranquil seas. A quiet anticipation thrummed within him.
Hum~
The ship settled gently on the soft, moss-like ground. The hatch hissed open, and the two Saiyans stepped out, still clad in their durable, if infamous, Frieza Force battle armor. The suits offered excellent protection and, crucially, could withstand the strain of their Oozaru transformations. (Rhode had tasked Dr. Brief with replicating the material, but progress was slow without a template.)
Bang!
With a press of a button, a puff of smoke enveloped their vessel. When it cleared, only a single, innocuous Hoi-Poi Capsule remained in Rhode's hand. Dr. Brief's modifications were a godsend for mobility and security.
"Rhode, the strongest energy signature is that way," Aira stated, pointing with unerring accuracy. "Do we head straight there?"
"Of course," Rhode confirmed, pocketing the capsule. "That should be the Grand Elder's residence. His permission is the key to everything."
"Then let's go!" Aira's competitive fire was already lit.
They launched into the air, trailing arcs of ki as they shot across Namek's serene sky. It wasn't long before a distinctive, dome-like structure came into view on the horizon.
But before they could reach it, a powerful ki erupted from below. A tall, muscular, green-skinned figure with antennae sprouting from his head shot up from the dwelling, intercepting their path with impressive speed.
It was Nail, the planet's sole warrior-type Namekian and the Grand Elder's personal guard—the strongest native being they would face.
Seeing two Saiyan children, Nail was bewildered but immediately wary, his expression hardening. The Saiyan reputation preceded them.
"Saiyans," he stated, his voice cool and firm, blocking their way. "This planet is not for you."
His gaze lingered on Rhode, sensing a deep, controlled danger emanating from the youth.
"Oh?" Rhode wasn't offended, but Aira's eyes lit up. Sensing a power level roughly on par with her own, her desire for a real fight ignited instantly.
"Hey, you!" she called out, a fierce grin spreading. "Let's fight!"
She was moving before the words finished leaving her mouth, a blur of motion as she threw a testing punch straight for Nail's face.
As Aira engaged, Rhode held back. From his perception, Nail's power was indeed in the low tens of thousands, a fair match for Aira. He didn't interfere.
Instead, he focused his ki, sending a message directly toward the dwelling. "Grand Elder," his voice, carried by energy, whispered on the wind, "we mean no harm. I believe you can sense our intentions."
A moment later, a wise, aged voice, resonant with power, echoed directly in his mind. "Child, I can. The turmoil in your companion's heart is that of a warrior seeking challenge, not conquest. And you… your spirit is calm. You are not like the Saiyans of legend."
"Shall I have her stop, then?" Rhode offered, watching as Aira and Nail's exchange of blows grew faster, more forceful.
"No need," the Elder's mental voice replied, carrying a note of pragmatic wisdom. "Nail is powerful, but his experience in true, all-out combat is limited. Guarding an old one like me provides little opportunity. This… is good training for him."
The Elder's assessment proved accurate. In the initial skirmish, with both fighters holding back to gauge each other, the battle was a stalemate—a clash of raw power against disciplined, but untested, technique over the peaceful fields of Namek.
However, as the exchange escalated and power levels climbed, Nail's critical lack of real combat experience began to tell. The gap between theoretical strength and applied violence widened rapidly.
Bang!
Aira's left hand shot out, fingers rigid like a blade, aimed at Nail's neck. He blocked, arms crossing defensively, but it was a feint. Her right fist, already cocked, drove like a piston into his abdomen.
Nail's arms jerked down in a desperate parry. But Aira didn't pull back; she pressed forward, her fist carrying the full weight of her momentum. It crashed against his hastily raised guard.
A block born of desperation was no match for a blow born of intent. Nail's defense held for a fraction of a second before buckling. Aira's fist hammered past and buried itself in his gut.
Pfft!
The air was driven from Nail's lungs in a pained gasp. His eyes widened, his body instinctively curling inward. The blow left him stunned, vulnerable.
Aira didn't relent. In a flash, she was above him, hands clasped together into a single, hammer-like fist. She brought it down in a devastating arc onto the back of his neck, driving him earthward like a meteor.
BOOM!
Nail's form cratered into the soft Namekian turf, sending up a plume of dust and moss. He lay at the center of the impact site, dazed, struggling to push himself up.
"Tch! How boring." Aira landed lightly nearby, not even bothering to press the attack. The fight had been a one-sided rout. She turned to Rhode, her annoyance clear. "Should we just go see that Elder now?"
Bang!
A figure erupted from the crater. It was Nail. He was a mess—his clothing torn, a trickle of purple Namekian blood at the corner of his mouth. But his eyes burned with a newfound intensity, a mix of shame, pain, and unyielding resolve.
I will not let them near the Elder! The thought screamed through his mind. He planted himself firmly between the Saiyans and the dwelling, a battered but unbowed guardian.
"Nail. You have done well. Stand down."
The voice was calm, authoritative, and carried immense weight. From the entrance of the dwelling, a Namekian of immense stature emerged. He was tall, his green skin still vibrant, his bearing one of profound, quiet strength. This was the Grand Elder, not yet bowed by the centuries that would weigh on him in two decades. He placed a gentle, reassuring hand on Nail's shoulder.
Rhode observed the Elder, surprised by his relative vigor compared to the future image in his mind, but he quickly adjusted. This was a being of immense age and wisdom now.
He stepped forward, his demeanor respectful but not subservient. He met the Elder's ancient, knowing gaze.
"Greetings, Grand Elder," Rhode said, his voice clear. "We have come to request the use of your Dragon Balls."