Marina wiped the last of the dirt from her knees and glanced back toward the pod.
Julie noticed the shift in her eyes immediately.
"…You're thinking about your mother," Julie said softly.
Marina nodded.
"I—I should tell her I'm okay. Saiyan pods have radio links. I can call her from inside."
Julie smiled. "Alright. Let's give her some peace of mind."
The two walked across the clearing toward the silver sphere. The fox and rabbits followed at a distance, cautious of the alien machine. The spirit wisp floated in slow circles around the pod, curious but wary.
Marina pressed her palm to the hatch. Hiss— It opened, steam rising from the interior. She climbed inside and pressed a sequence of glowing runes along the console.
A soft hum filled the pod.
Marina's face brightened with hope.
"Okay… just gotta boost the signal… this button… and—"
CRACK—POP—SPARK!
The lights on the console flickered violently. Marina flinched. "Huh? That's not normal—" The holographic interface glitched, scrambled symbols flashing rapidly.
Static crackled.
The main screen dimmed.
"No, no, no… don't do that!" Marina pleaded.
She tapped the communication node again.
Nothing.
She tried the emergency channel.
Nothing.
She smacked the side of the console. The entire pod sputtered, sparked again… and shut down completely. The interior lights died. The hum faded into silence. And with it—Marina's only connection to Homeworld.
"W-what…?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Why isn't it—? It should've worked…" Her hands trembled as she pressed the console again. And again. But the buttons no longer responded. Her heart pounded in her chest.
"My pod… my pod's broken…" she whispered, eyes widening in horror. "I can't… I can't call my mom…"
The realization hit her like a punch.
Her breath hitched.
"I… I can't go home…" Her small frame shook as the weight of those words sank in.
Her tail curled tightly around her waist—a Starlight Scout instinct when overwhelmed.
Julie hurried to the pod and knelt beside its entrance.
"Marina…?" she called gently.
Marina didn't answer at first—tears welled in her eyes, her jaw quivering. She tried to force a brave Saiyan expression but failed.
Julie placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Hey… deep breaths," she said softly. "You're not alone. You hear me?"
Marina sniffed hard and tried to wipe her eyes with her sleeve. "But… my mom… she's so far away… and this was the only way to talk to her… I was supposed to check-in… and—and—" Her voice broke. Julie wrapped an arm around her gently, pulling her into a warm, steady embrace. "It's okay," Julie whispered, brushing Marina's hair softly. "You're safe. We'll figure this out together."
Marina leaned into her—small, scared, and vulnerable, the weight of the cosmos suddenly too big for her ten-year-old heart.
After a moment, Julie pulled back, her expression turning thoughtful.
"I know someone," she said. "Someone brilliant. Someone kind. Someone who… understands things from beyond our world."
Marina blinked through her tears. "R-really…?"
Julie nodded.
"He's a former scientist from the Dragoon Troop—but don't let that scare you. He left them long ago." She looked to the north, where a cold breeze traveled through the trees. "He lives far from here… in the Icicle Inn. A little village tucked into the snow."
Marina sniffed. "He can fix my pod?"
Julie smiled gently.
"If anyone can… Professor Gast Faremis can."
Marina stared up at her, eyes wide with fragile hope.
Julie stood and extended her hand.
"Come on. We'll go together. You're not facing this world alone."
Marina hesitated for only a heartbeat— then placed her small hand into Julie's. The forest path eventually gave way to frost-kissed winds and snowy mountains. Marina shivered a little—more from nerves than from the cold—as Julie carried her through drifting flakes toward the quiet village nestled beneath the pale sky.
Soon, the warm yellow glow of windows flickered through the snow.
Icicle Inn.
Smoke rose from chimneys. Windchimes sang softly. And standing near one of the small houses were three adults and a little girl—bundled warmly, waiting.
Julie waved.
"Professor Gast! Lucrecia! Ifalna!"
The older man stepped forward, brushing snow from his coat. His eyes sparkled with curiosity the moment he spotted the small figure beside Julie.
"Julie," he greeted warmly, "you sounded urgent on the phone. An extraterrestrial artifact, you said?"
Julie nodded. "And a child. A very frightened one."
Gast's brows lifted slightly.
Lucrecia and Ifalna exchanged a silent look—one of recognition and instinctive gentleness.
Aerith peeked from behind her mother's skirt, eyes wide and glowing with innocent interest. Julie led them all to the clearing where the Saiyan pod lay half-buried. Gast's breath caught the instant he saw it—hands already reaching for tools as if pulled by instinct. Lucrecia stepped around the pod with scientific precision. Ifalna stood close behind, her Cetra senses humming.
Julie knelt beside Marina.
"Let them take a look, okay?"
Marina nodded silently, hugging her arms to her chest.
Aerith tip-toed over and smiled shyly.
"I like your tail…" Marina blinked. "…Thanks?"
Aerith giggled.
Meanwhile, Gast pressed his palm along the pod's side, listening to the faint hum inside.
"Incredible craftsmanship…" he murmured. "Metallic alloys I've never seen. Heat-resistant beyond terrestrial standards. And these runic interfaces… not magical, not mechanical—something… between."
Lucrecia nodded, opening her portable scanner.
"It's biomechanical," she said. "Part technology, part living circuit. Whoever built this… their science is centuries beyond the Dragoon Troop."
Ifalna stood beside them, fingers brushing the surface.
"The flow of energy is unlike Lifestream. More linear. More focused. This pod was created for survival… and for warriors."
Gast paused.
"A warrior pod… sent with a child?"
Julie gently raised a hand. "Marina can explain that part."
Marina stepped forward timidly but spoke with Saiyan pride.
"I'm a Saiyan from Planet Homeworld. All our pods are made for training, missions, and travel. I came here because I'm supposed to learn and explore…"
Gast shared a look with Lucrecia—equal parts awe and sympathy.
"An alien," Lucrecia whispered. "A child… alone on another world."
Marina's tail curled tightly. Gast straightened, adjusting his glasses. "Well, the good news is—yes. Lucrecia and I can repair this. We've worked with Dragoon Troop equipment for years. This is… far more advanced, but the fundamentals are decipherable." Marina's eyes sparkled. "R-really?! You can fix it?!"
Lucrecia smiled softly. "Yes, sweetheart. But…"
Her expression fell.
Gast sighed.
"The damage is… extensive."
He gestured to the ruptured panel, fried circuits, and burnt inner core.
"If the pod had simply shorted out, repairs would take a few days. A week at most."
Marina exhaled in relief.
"Buuut…" Gast continued, wincing. "'But'?" Marina echoed, tail lifting in worry.
At that exact moment—
CRACK—FZZT—BOOM!
The pod sparked violently. Flames burst from the side, sending Julie and Aerith stumbling back. Gast immediately sprayed foam, dousing the fire.
Smoke curled upward as the metal hissed.
Lucrecia stared in stunned silence.
Ifalna slowly face-palmed with motherly resignation.
Julie whispered, "…Oh no."
Gast lowered his extinguisher, coughing.
"Well. That complicates things." Marina's eyes filled with dread.
"How… how long now?"
Lucrecia crouched beside the ruined panel.
"Some of the internal systems are melted…" Ifalna nodded gravely. "The core needs full reconstruction."
Marina trembled. Gast rubbed the back of his neck.
"At minimum… weeks. Possibly months." Marina's knees buckled, and she fell to the snow, tail limp behind her. "M-Months…?" she whispered, voice cracking.
"That long…? Without seeing my mom…? Without even talking to her?"
Her eyes welled as her small hands curled into fists in the snow.
"I… I didn't think… it'd break this bad…"
Julie knelt beside her, pulling her into a gentle embrace.
Aerith walked over and placed a tiny hand on Marina's shoulder. "It's okay… You can stay with us. I'll play with you! You won't be lonely."
Marina sniffed, wiping her eyes.
"I… I really miss my mom…"
Ifalna knelt too, her voice soft and warm.
"You're not alone here, Marina. We will all help you until you can return home."
Gast offered the kind smile of a grandfather.
"And I promise—your pod will be repaired. I'll work day and night if I must."
Lucrecia nodded.
"You have our word."
Marina looked at all of them—Julie, Aerith, Ifalna, Lucrecia, Gast.
A strange warmth filled her chest.
She still felt sad.
But… She wasn't scared anymore.
For the first time on Earth… She felt like she had a place. The cold mountain wind brushed softly against Marina's cheeks as she stood beside the smoldering remains of her pod. The others were already packing their tools, the pod carefully loaded onto a sled for transport back to Icicle Inn.
Julie crouched beside Marina, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Marina," she said softly, "your pod isn't going to be usable for quite some time. Until Gast can repair it… you'll need a place to stay."
Marina looked down, small clouds forming with each trembling breath. "…I don't want to be a bother…"
Julie smiled warmly.
"You won't be. My home is open to you. You can stay with me as long as you need."
Marina blinked up at her—confused, touched, and vulnerable all at once.
"All the way… until it's fixed…? Weeks… maybe months?"
Julie nodded. "Yes. No matter how long."
Marina's tail slowly uncurled, rising just slightly in relief. "A-are you sure…? I don't want to make trouble…"
Julie brushed a snowflake from the girl's hair.
"Marina, you're a child far from home. Helping you isn't trouble—it's the right thing to do."
Aerith bounced beside them excitedly.
"You can sleep over! We'll make a bed for you! Oh—and I'll show you the flowers behind the inn!"
Marina blinked, overwhelmed by kindness she didn't expect to find on a foreign world.
She bowed her head respectfully—hands at her sides in a formal Starlight Scout gesture.
"Thank you… Miss Julie."
Julie smiled.
"Come on. Let's get you somewhere warm." Far across the stars, beneath the twin moons of Homeworld, the night sky was calm.