Two weeks had passed since Gojo Satoru and Launch quietly left the battlefield where Cell met his end. The aftermath of that conflict saw the world breathing a collective sigh of relief—even if it also grieved the loss of Goku, who had chosen to remain in the afterlife. Without the usual looming threat, Earth found itself in a rare state of calm. That peace had allowed the Z-Fighters to recuperate and rebuild, and for Bulma to pursue her next big idea: advanced spacecraft.
Bulma had never been one to rest on her laurels. With the danger of Cell gone, she busied herself in her lab at Capsule Corporation, tinkering with alien technologies salvaged from the Saiyans and from her father's archives. She'd even studied schematics from the Namekian starships that once brought Kami to Earth long ago. The result was a gleaming white capsule labeled "CC #103," large enough inside to house a small living area, storage, and the best propulsion systems Bulma could design.
It was in this workshop that Gojo and Launch found themselves one sunny afternoon. Launch sneezed the moment they stepped through the threshold, transforming from her sweet, timid blonde persona to her wild, blue-haired alter ego. A string of curses fell from her lips as she rubbed her nose, prompting a raised eyebrow from Bulma, who was tinkering with the spaceship's hatch.
"Well, that's one way to greet me," Bulma remarked, standing up and wiping her hands on a grease-stained cloth. Despite her flippant tone, her eyes were bright. "I take it the trip from West City went alright?"
Launch folded her arms. "Would've been faster if someone didn't need to stop for iced coffee every half hour," she grumbled, shooting a glare at Gojo, who only grinned beneath his ever-present blindfold.
"Hey," Gojo said with a casual shrug, "Earth's got a lot of flavors. It'd be a crime not to try them all while we still can."
Bulma rolled her eyes. "Anyway, you two are just in time. I've just put the finishing touches on the ship's gravity controls, so you can train on the go if you want. It's got enough food stores and living quarters for the two of you, plus an AI autopilot I've been testing out." With a flourish, she tapped the side of the spaceship. It hissed open, revealing a sleek, well-lit interior.
Launch leaned in. The interior was spacious—larger than its outward appearance suggested. Bulma had used the same dimensional compression technology behind Capsule Corp's hallmark designs, granting them more room without compromising the ship's compact shape. A control panel bristled with switches and screens near the cockpit, and a small corridor led to sleeping quarters, a kitchen area, and even a training bay.
"This is the best I can do with Earth's resources," Bulma continued, pushing up the sleeves of her lab coat. "But I did incorporate whatever alien tech I could scrounge up. You'll be able to get anywhere in the galaxy and back in record time."
Gojo ran a hand along the cool metal of the ship's interior, impressed despite himself. "That's quite an upgrade from those old Saiyan pods. Could come in handy."
Launch smirked, blowing a strand of blue hair out of her face. "And here I was, thinking we'd have to hitch a ride. Guess we've got a spaceship with room service now."
"Call it a thank-you for stepping in during the whole Cell business," Bulma said, trying to sound casual but betraying genuine gratitude. "Goku's gone, and we all have our ways of dealing with that, but the two of you—especially you, Gojo—made sure Earth saw another day. If you're going to wander around anyway, might as well do it in style."
A short time later, the engines roared to life with an electric hum. Bulma stepped back, shielding her eyes as the spaceship lifted off from the Capsule Corp testing grounds. With a final wave, she watched as the craft soared into the sky, leaving West City's skyline behind. Inside the ship, Launch eased into the copilot's seat while Gojo took the helm, fiddling with the touchscreen controls.
"Coordinates set," the ship's AI chirped, its voice smooth and distinctly robotic. "Where shall we go first, Captain Gojo?"
Launch groaned. "Captain? Don't inflate his ego."
Gojo's grin was audible in his voice. "Let's start with somewhere not too far. Bulma mentioned an old Namekian route—maybe we can pop by New Namek, see how those green folks are doing these days."
Launch shrugged. "Sure, why not? Might as well see more aliens."
The engine's rumble deepened, and through the forward viewport, the sky shifted from bright blue to a star-speckled expanse of black. In minutes, Earth was but a marble behind them. Launch's fierce eyes widened just a bit, hiding a flicker of awe beneath her brash facade. She'd flown in planes and small craft before, but never soared so far, so fast.
Within an hour, they were cruising at faster-than-light speeds, the cosmos streaking by in a mesmerizing blur. Gojo, more intrigued by the ship's Infinity Drive readouts than he cared to admit, pressed a few icons to check the warp field. Meanwhile, Launch snorted at his fascination but couldn't help leaning over, curiosity piqued.
"So," Launch said after a while, "what do you know about Namek, anyway?"
"Not much," Gojo confessed. "Gohan said something about them having Dragon Balls, and that they're a peaceful race. I guess they had to resettle on a new planet after the old one was destroyed."
Launch's sneer softened. "Right, I remember hearing bits of that from Tien—something about Frieza wiping out Namek." She hesitated, then shrugged. "Well, as long as they don't try to blow us up, I'm good."
The ship's autopilot handled most of the journey, leaving them free to explore. Launch discovered the training bay, which was a compact sphere with gravity controls similar to the ones Bulma had built for Vegeta back on Earth. Though her knowledge of martial arts was nowhere near that of the Z-Fighters, her sharper persona relished the chance to work up a sweat without fear of being shot at.
Gojo stood in the training bay doorway, arms folded, a faint smile on his face. "We could spar, if you want."
Launch raised an eyebrow. "You'd go easy on me, wouldn't you?"
A teasing light danced behind Gojo's blindfold. "I promise not to break any bones."
She snorted. "Tempting, but let me get used to 5 times Earth's gravity first." Then, with a mischief-laced grin, she added, "Next time you see me sneeze and switch back to the sweet blonde, drag me in here. Maybe my nicer half needs some muscle."
He laughed, stepping aside as she closed the door to the training bay. While Launch tested the gravity controls, he strolled to the living quarters. The hum of the ship was oddly comforting—like a lullaby in an endless night. With the Universe sprawled out before them, and no looming threat for once, the quiet almost felt unnatural.
In the cockpit, the AI beeped. "Captain, we are nearing New Namek. Dropping out of faster-than-light travel in three minutes."
Gojo keyed the intercom. "Launch, we're almost there."
A few moments later, Launch reemerged, her cheeks slightly flushed from the extra gravity. She swiped a towel across her forehead. "That was quick. Hard to believe the galaxy's so… small with this tech."
They took their seats and watched the swirl of warp-speed travel slow, the stars shifting from stretched lines to pinpricks of light. In the distance loomed a green planet, haloed by a milky ring of dust. Tall, slender spires jutted from its surface—Namekian architecture, reminiscent of the original Namek but with subtle differences. This world, they soon learned, was a place where the Namekians had rebuilt their civilization from scratch after Frieza's devastation.
Upon entering the planet's atmosphere, they were greeted by wide blue grasslands under a pale sky. The ship's sensors guided them to a safe landing spot near a domed Namekian settlement. As the spaceship touched down, an airlock hissed open.
Stepping onto the spongy turf, Launch fiddled with her belt, making sure she had a firearm at her side. "Just in case," she muttered.
Gojo raised a hand, gently resting it on her shoulder. "They're pacifists. I doubt you'll need that."
She eyed him but didn't argue. Together, they approached a small group of Namekians who had emerged from the domed building to investigate the newcomers. Among them was a tall figure with a calm, serious face—Moori, the village elder, judging by the regal way he carried himself.
"Welcome to New Namek," Moori said, his voice resonant. "Travelers from Earth, I assume?"
Gojo nodded, introducing himself and Launch. The elder's keen eyes lingered on Gojo's blindfold but showed no fear—only curiosity. The other Namekians stood in hushed respect, their antennae twitching in the breeze.
After exchanging formalities, Moori invited them inside, offering cups of a greenish liquid that tasted a bit like sweetened moss. "We hear rumors from Earth sometimes," Moori explained, "about great battles, about the warrior Goku, and the threats you all face. We have not forgotten the times the Earthlings helped us against Frieza. If you are here to visit, please, enjoy our hospitality."
Launch sipped the drink, her expression torn between politeness and mild disgust at the taste. "Thanks," she said cautiously, "we appreciate it. We're just seeing what's out there now that Earth's quiet. Figured we'd say hello."
Moori's lips curved in a faint smile. "Your presence is a surprise, but a welcome one. Few from Earth travel out this way anymore, especially now that the main conflicts have subsided."
Gojo, for his part, studied the room, the smooth Namekian architecture, and the calm faces. It was refreshing—no tension, no sense of imminent doom. Perhaps, he mused, this was what a world without constant danger looked like. In the back of his mind, however, a subtle restlessness lingered; he was used to conflict, challenge, the call of battle. Could the Universe really be at peace?
Later that evening, they roamed the village freely. Namek's trio of suns cast overlapping shadows, painting the hills with soft orange and pink hues. Launch sneezed once near the local farmland, reverting to her meek purple-haired self, and the Namekian children giggled at her transformation. She laughed along with them, somewhat embarrassed but finding joy in the warm curiosity of these gentle people.
Gojo, strolling at her side, noticed how she relaxed in this environment. "Not so bad, right?"
She offered a small, shy smile. "Yeah. They're… nice. Different from Earth's hustle. It's quiet."
They stayed for a few days, resting, exploring the rolling plains and tall, sloping hills. Moori and the other Namekians answered their questions about their culture, their methods of agriculture, and how they thrived in harmony. Launch got a chance to test local produce, discovering a fondness for a sweet, green Namekian fruit. Gojo occasionally sparred with a few curious younger Namekians, albeit lightly, as they were no match for his techniques.
Eventually, the time came to move on. The Universe was vast, and they had only just begun their voyage. Moori and the others bid them a fond farewell, loading them up with small gifts of dried fruits and a few carved tokens as souvenirs.
Their next destination: Planet Yardrat. It was rumored to be the place where Goku had learned Instant Transmission, and though Launch had no intention of mastering such a skill, the idea of traveling to a mysterious world known for its esoteric arts intrigued both of them.
Once back aboard Bulma's spaceship, the engine roared to life, and they soared beyond Namek's atmosphere. Launch, now in her spicier persona again (thanks to another stray sneeze during liftoff), settled into the copilot seat with a grin. "Yardrat, huh? Think we'll find any good brawls there?"
Gojo chuckled, keying in the new coordinates. "I wouldn't mind a challenge. But from what I hear, the Yardrats are more about technique than raw power. Might be interesting to see."
The AI confirmed the jump, and once more, the starlit void enveloped them. Off they went, venturing deeper into the cosmos with nothing but their wits, Bulma's technology, and the unwavering bond of a sorcerer who bent space at will and a split-personality woman who could handle a machine gun like nobody's business.
Though they had no grand quest or cosmic emergency nipping at their heels, the Universe had a way of unveiling secrets to those who dared wander. For now, Gojo and Launch simply let the infinite night pass by the viewport, content in the knowledge that anywhere could be their next stop. They had each other, a spaceship, and an entire galaxy to explore—and that was more than enough reason to keep on flying.