arven never slept. The planet's twin suns rotated fast enough that night barely lasted six hours. In the few dark hours it had, lights from ships and outposts filled the sky like constellations of fire.
Tarac stood on a balcony above the main trading district, arms crossed, watching cargo ships come and go. A few years had passed since his first bounty, and his name was now whispered with both respect and caution.
The locals called him The Saiyan of Garven. Some said he never lost a fight. Others claimed he was part of a secret army. He didn't bother correcting them. Let them talk. He only cared about the next challenge.
"Tarac."
He turned. The bartender from his first visit, the reptilian named Kriv, walked up holding a datapad. His scales had dulled with age, but his eyes were sharp as ever.
"You've been busy," Kriv said. "Clearing out raider dens, wiping out pirate nests. I'm starting to think you actually enjoy this."
Tarac smirked. "If I didn't, I wouldn't be good at it."
Kriv chuckled and handed him the datapad. "Got something new. Dangerous. High pay. Thought you'd like it."
Tarac glanced at the details. The bounty was for a smuggler named Dravo who had been supplying stolen tech to old Frieza Force loyalists. The payout was high, but the location caught his attention. The deep desert ruins on the far side of the planet.
"Interesting," he said. "What's the catch?"
"Dravo's not alone. He's got offworld help. Some kind of hired bodyguard. The last crew that went after him didn't make it back."
Tarac's eyes lit slightly. "Sounds like fun."
He left before Kriv could reply, his cloak fluttering behind him as he headed toward the launch yard.
The desert was silent when he arrived. His scouter picked up faint energy signals ahead, clustered around an ancient ruin half-buried in sand. Tarac crouched low, moving through the dunes until he spotted them.
Dravo was there, a stocky alien with gray skin, flanked by guards wearing old Frieza Force armor. Standing beside them was a tall figure with green skin and sharp eyes.
Tarac frowned. He had never seen one like that before.
He stepped forward and let his presence be known. "You Dravo?"
The guards turned, weapons ready. Dravo sneered. "Another bounty hunter. You think you can take me?"
"Pretty sure," Tarac said.
The guards opened fire, red blasts lighting the air. Tarac moved faster than their eyes could follow, appearing behind one and knocking him out with a strike to the neck. Another went flying from a kick to the ribs. Within seconds, they were all down.
Dravo tried to run, but Tarac appeared in front of him and grabbed his collar. "Going somewhere?"
Before he could deliver the final hit, the green-skinned warrior stepped between them. His aura flared faintly, calm yet powerful.
"Enough," the stranger said. "Dravo's mine."
Tarac narrowed his eyes. "You're protecting him?"
"I'm collecting him," the stranger said, voice steady. "Same target, different client."
They stared at each other for a moment, the air thick with tension. Then Tarac smirked. "Guess we'll see who gets him first."
The two clashed. Their blows cracked the air, each strike leaving a ripple through the sand. Tarac's ki flared bright as he pushed forward, but the stranger met him blow for blow.
Finally, they broke apart, breathing hard. The stranger wiped sand from his face and gave a faint smile. "You fight well, Saiyan."
"You too," Tarac replied. "You're not from around here."
"No," the stranger said. "My people are far away. We are called Namekians."
That caught Tarac's attention. "Namekians?"
The warrior nodded. "Our planet is distant. Peaceful. Not like this one. I only left because word spread that offworlders were trading Namekian relics on this side of space. Thieves like Dravo profit from them."
Tarac glanced at the unconscious smuggler. "Namekian relics, huh? Sounds like something I should look into."
The Namekian looked at him curiously. "Why?"
"Let's just say I like knowing where the strong people come from," Tarac said.
The stranger nodded slightly. "If you ever reach Namek, look for the Elder. He guides our kind. He may guide you too."
Tarac didn't answer right away. The idea of another planet filled with warriors who could train him stirred something inside. A chance to grow stronger again.
By the time he looked back, the Namekian and Dravo were gone, their ship lifting into the sky. Tarac stood there, staring at the stars. Somewhere among them was a world called Namek.
That night, back in Garven's city, he sat at the bar again. Kriv slid him a drink. "You get the bounty?"
Tarac shook his head. "Someone else beat me to it."
Kriv raised a brow. "You lose a fight?"
"No," Tarac said quietly. "I found something better."
Kriv leaned on the counter. "And what's that?"
Tarac looked out the window where the stars shimmered faintly. "A new direction."
He finished his drink, stood up, and turned to leave. His pod was waiting at the hangar, ready for its next flight. The universe was vast, and he had only just begun exploring it.
"Namek," he said under his breath. "Let's see what you've got."