Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Errant Exile ❯ Friends in High Places ( Chapter 11 )

Errant Exile

Chapter 10: "Friends in High Places"

Sunlight and the squawks of feuding seagulls penetrated the thick fog of drug-induced sleep that Khri had been wrapped in all night. Groaning in protest, she tried to roll over and retreat under the blanket when pain lanced up and down her left side, turning her groan into a gasp. What the...?!

Memories of last night's conflict came back into focus with the impact of the ocean surf crashing on the beach. Khri lay still and waited for the pain to subside. Sai slipped me a sleeping drug, that cunning bastard, she thought angrily, easing herself into a sitting position. She started to throw off the blanket when she noticed the cuts on the backs of her hands. A couple of the larger ones had been sealed with clear medical tape, but the smaller ones were so numerous it appeared she'd pushed both hands into a rose bush. I can only imagine what the rest of me looks like! She tossed the blanket aside and carefully got to her feet.

She'd slept on a standard issue bedroll on the floor of the big bedroom, which was actually nearly as comfortable as her own hard bed on the Aughenai. Beneath the windows sat a large supply crate with a couple of smaller boxes stacked on top. Moving cautiously so as not to aggravate her battered ribcage, Khri set the smaller boxes on the floor opened the heavy lid. It's a good thing this was packed before I made Sai angry or it would be full of Ahtai's nasty ration bars, she mused and began opening the boxes.

The supplies were standard issue from the Aughenai and included many items she hadn't been able to bring with her or had the time to purchase on Earth. They had tried to allow for every possible scenario so they'd shipped several of her extra uniforms, including a lightweight one in case the weather became hot enough to be comfortable. Also packed was her duty cloak, linens, toiletries, a large medical kit and an assortment of small tools. She was happy to find her favorite robe had been thrown in; it was the one she'd purchased during her last brief shore leave. Sai had prodded her to buy something silky, luxurious and in a color other than black, but the Aughenai's perpetual state of chill made that choice impractical. Resisting the temptation to grab a painkiller from the medical kit, Khri scooped up an assortment of the soaps, towels and her heavy, black robe and headed for the connecting bathroom.

As the water filled the big tub Khri peeled off her uniform and got her first good look at the damage the flying glass had done. She stared at her pale face in the mirror, her fingers probing gently at the long gash across her cheek. It would mend without a scar thanks to the quick treatment, but she couldn't remember feeling it happen. When she'd first heard the bullets and glass breaking Khri had spun to her right, which explained why her left side had taken the brunt of the injuries. Her jacket had provided some protection or the wounds down her neck, shoulder, breast and arm would have been worse. Her legs, however, were cross-hatched with small and large scratches, the worst of them covered with more of the clear tape. Deep umber and black bruises had spread across her ribs, nearly obscuring the four scars where the bullets had gone in and been coaxed back out. Piccolo was right. I do look terrible, worse than he knows. She freed her hair from her braid and wasn't surprised to see bits of glass fall on the tile floor and into the sink.

Sinking into the deliciously hot water, Khri noticed the near silence of the house. The strike team had returned to the Aughenai sometime during the night, as she'd expected. The threat of another Tigradi assassination attempt couldn't be predicted, but she was doubtful they'd try such a stupid stunt again anytime soon. Cydanis had too many wounds to lick and subordinates to threaten. She let herself soak until the water cooled, took a trip through the shower, then bundled her hair into a thick towel and slipped on the long robe.

Khri padded down the hall in her bare feet. The equipment the strike team had stacked in the hall was gone, as were the empty food containers and trash left from the impromptu dinner. She walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. I hope there are at least a few of those fishy things left over from last night, she thought as her stomach growled. There was one less beer in the back, a casualty of Sai's testy sense of humor, but there was still plenty of leftover bottled water and tea. A cardboard box had one forlorn spring roll left in it but it was enough for breakfast. She set it on the nearby counter and closed the fridge door.

"You should still be asleep."

Practice and instinct took over and Khri spun into a defensive posture, both hands at the ready to form a blackfire blast. Her bruises screamed in protest and she had to clamp her lips together to keep from baring fang in both pain and aggression. Then she saw who her unexpected house guest was.

"Piccolo! Dammit, don't surprise me like that!" Khri wrapped one arm around her ribs as she tried to catch her breath. Her other hand had to grab for the towel on her head that threatened to list over her right eye. "You're the last person I expected to see this morning."

The big Namek stood in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen in his usual arms-folded posture. He hadn't even moved to defend himself, and Khri didn't know whether to feel relieved or insulted. Already she could feel her face tingle with a threatening blush. "Your...Second...left late last night and took everyone else with him. I still have business with you so I decided to stay."

"Oh?" Khri glanced at the stove, concluded that making tea without a kettle or cup was impossible, and decided on water instead.

Piccolo reached inside his belt and pulled out a square of paper. "Bulma asked me to give this to you."

Khri quirked an eyebrow. "Who is Bulma?"

"Bulma Briefs, a friend of Goku and ChiChi. She's married to Vegeta. She's also an inventor and owner of Capsule Corporation."

The square of paper turned out to be an envelope. It was also wrinkled, slightly damp and smelled of seawater. Khri opened it and managed to coax out the stiff piece of paper inside. "It looks like some sort of formal invitation," she said, holding it up to the light. "I can't read most of what it says because the ink has bled." She certainly didn't blame Piccolo for giving it a seawater bath, not after last night.

"Feh. Its just an invitation to yet another party. She never needs an excuse to throw one." His scowl grew darker. "If Vegeta told her about you, then you're probably the reason for it. Its tomorrow night. Bulma wouldn't shut up unless I promised to give it to you."

The last thing she had anticipated was being invited to a party while on Earth, let alone one where she could end up being the main attraction. She doubted Vegeta had painted a flattering portrait of her, so why did the woman want to see her? It could be an attempt to tweak Vegeta's hot temper, but she could also be curious about Earth's latest guest. It could be, Khri laughed to herself, that she's just throwing a big party. "I will go. I will also get Bulma's number from ChiChi and call her myself once the phone is connected later today." She ran the risk and asked the question as she opened the refrigerator. "Are you going to be there?"

"My former student, Gohan, will be there. As long as I stay out of Bulma and ChiChi's way it should be...tolerable." He accepted Khri's proffered bottle of water with a grunt, then stared hard at her. "You should be resting. You still look like hell."

Khri sighed and closed her eyes. "Yes, I know, Piccolo. I don't need you to remind me." She then added quietly, "that's just what every woman wants to hear first thing in the morning." She cringed with pain not just from her healing wounds, but from a sharp emotional jab too close to her heart. Now why did that hurt? I've been insulted far worse before this, Khri wondered. And he's right, I do look like hell, so I really don't have a reason to be offended...do I? Cold spring roll and water bottle forgotten on the counter, she tightened her grip on the towel and started to leave the kitchen.

"Khri, wait."

The unexpected softness of his gruff voice made her pause. She refused to turn around and looked at him over her shoulder instead. "Yes?"

Piccolo didn't meet her eyes, making her wonder if he actually might be feeling a little regret for the insult, intended or not. She remembered that as a youngster he'd been plain spoken, letting her know exactly how he felt regarding her interference with his immature world domination plans. As an adult he seemed just as plain spoken and didn't bother with unnecessary graces. Khri usually appreciated such frankness and honesty, so she questioned whether her injuries and recovery were making her feel more vulnerable than usual. She decided to, once again, give him the benefit of doubt and waited.

"There's no need for you to wait to heal," he said quietly, still looking down. "As soon as you're dressed I'll take you to see Dende."

"Dende! You mentioned that name at least twice last night," Khri replied, turning around. "Who is Dende?"

Piccolo seemed to find the change in subject a return to more comfortable ground. "He's the Guardian of Earth. He knows what happened the night you arrived and has asked that I bring you to see him." A small smile curled one corner of his mouth. "He's also a healer Namekian."

Khri's eyes widened in surprise. "A healer Namek is Earth's Guardian? I thought that Earth's current Kami was a warrior Namek."

She was surprised again when Piccolo looked away, scowling uncomfortably. "That used to be true. Dende hasn't been Guardian very long."

Khri started to fold her arms but the towel threatened to slide again. "If I remember correctly, Earth's previous Guardian was quite old, but I don't know if his age was advanced enough for him to have passed on recently. That would certainly explain a newer Guardian."

"His age had nothing to do with it. His time was over and he finally realized it. End of story."

I sincerely doubt that...and just how much did you have to do with his decision? Perhaps I can get a straight answer out of Dende. In spite of his surliness, Piccolo seemed to respect this new Guardian or he wouldn't have been so insistent that Khri see him. "Given Dende's station, this will fall under the protocol of an official Clan visit," she said. "I'll be back in a few moments."

Still moving slowly in consideration of her injuries, Khri left the kitchen and went back to the bedroom. She put on a fresh set of blacks from the crate, whisked her drying hair into a tight formal plait, and fastened the thick duty cloak to her shoulders. After picking up a pair of gloves she put on her Battle Commander face and hoped the Guardian wouldn't notice how pale she was

She found Piccolo in the living room. "I just spoke with Dende, and he's waiting for you," he said. "He's looking forward to meeting you."

"The sentiment is mutual," she replied softly, envying their gift of telepathy, then realized a potential problem with the plan. "Is it a long flight there?"

"Yes. The Lookout is on the other side of the continent."

Khri looked away. "I...see." Kaio-Sama, how am I going to ignore this pain for that long a flight? She expected a reply out of that deity sooner than she would get one from Eldest. My side is too sore not to react to it, and that's a weakness I'd rather not have Piccolo see...

A heavy green hand rested on her uninjured right shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Khri looked back up to see Piccolo smiling. "We don't have to fly," he said, having understood the reason for her reluctance when she always enjoyed flying before. "There's another way. Just keep still." He put two fingers to his forehead.

"Piccolo, what...." Khri gasped as her voice was sucked away.

"Welcome to the Lookout," Piccolo's voice rasped in her ear.

Struggling to catch her breath without taxing her injuries, Khri stared around her in shock.

Her living room had been swept away in a blur and replaced by a vast expanse of gleaming white marble tile that ended in blue sky. Khri found herself standing between two rows of palm trees, their fronds hissing faintly in a breeze scented with flowers. It tugged gently on her cloak as she studied the palace looming beyond the trees. The entire place had a feeling of great antiquity as well as a sense of ongoing renewal. The golden domes shimmered with fresh polish and the walls proudly displayed new plaster and paint.

"Since Dende took over as Guardian, he's been working to restore the Lookout," Piccolo explained. "The place is old and took a lot of damage in recent years, so he's made it his personal project to put it back together." His smile was almost imperceptible. "The first improvement was the end of old Kami's rule."

Khri glanced up at him without moving her head. There was a story there, she was certain, but her determination to find out the truth would have to wait for another time. Two figures had just left the palace and were making their way towards her. Khri walked beside Piccolo, past the palms and flowerbeds, to meet them halfway.

The Namekian Guardian appeared to be young by all standards, but Khri knew from personal experience that looks could be more than a little deceiving when it came to maturity. He wore simple flowing robes of brown and white, just like the rest of his kindred, and carried a twisted, wooden staff that had probably been part of the office for centuries. True to his healer nature, he lacked Piccolo's height and barely came up to Khri's chin. Next to him plodded a stout, dark skinned man with a kindly smile. The Guardian grinned up at her as Piccolo made the introduction. "Dende, this is Khri, the Leonid I told you about."

Dende handed his staff to his companion, walked up to Khri and placed one hand on his chest and the other on hers. "Well met, old friend and ally," he said in Namekian with a respectful bow of his head.

Khri smiled and copied his gesture. "Also well met, old ally and friend," she replied warmly in perfect Namekian.

"What was that all about?" Piccolo asked. "I didn't know you could speak Namekian!" He looked accusingly at Khri.

"You never asked me," Khri replied, falling back into Earth's language. "That was the traditional formal greeting between Namekians and Leonids. It goes back thousands of years but I believe it's the first time its been used on Earth. As for being able to speak Namekian, Eldest ordered me to learn it many years ago." She smiled. "Its not the easiest of languages to get your tongue and brain around, either!"

Khri felt Dende's hand on her chest suddenly press harder. His gleeful expression vanished and he gasped. "You're injured!"

"Its one of the reasons Piccolo was very insistent I meet you." Khri nodded towards the big warrior. "He can be very persuasive," she added dryly.

"He was right to bring you here," Dende said, bringing up his other hand and placing it gently against her injured side. "This will only take a moment..."

Khri watched as a soft glow surrounded Dende's hands. It shimmered as it spread, bringing with it a feeling of deep warmth and comfort. She felt herself relax as the heat seemed to concentrate in the areas with the worst injuries, which included the gash across her cheekbone. The dull throbbing in her side warmed intensely beneath his palm before subsiding, taking the pain with it. The glow dissipated into the breeze and he took a step back. "That should do it."

For the first time since the attack, Khri pulled her shoulders back and stood perfectly straight. The irritating fatigue she'd been battling was gone and so was the agonizing twinge in her ribs. She took a deep breath of air and let it out slowly, closing her eyes in relief. "Thank you so much, Dende! I've met Namek's healers before, but have never been on the receiving end of their gift." She bowed again. "I'm honored."

Dende nodded politely and smiled, but Khri noticed a slight frown creasing his eye ridges. "I've never seen injuries like yours before. Even though they were fresh they were half-healed. Great Elder Muri hinted that some Leonids have abilities of their own, but he didn't tell me what they were."

"We do," Khri said, peeling the tape from her face. "I'll be happy to explain, but first I think there's something else you'd rather ask me about. I don't think Piccolo brought me here for just healing."

"We can discuss that over tea." Dende took his staff back from the small man. "Mr. Popo has lots of experience in entertaining guests. Since we don't get them that often, he likes to show off his cooking skills when we do. Goku tells me his pastries are wonderful, but I don't understand how he can taste them when he inhales his food."

Khri followed her hosts into the palace where, as promised, a small table had been set at one end of a large hall. Piccolo had been just a few paces behind but didn't join them; he stalked off towards the other end of the airy room and settled into his meditation position. Still within hearing range, she noticed, gratefully accepting a cup of tea and a fluffy, gooey pastry.

Dende's first question was direct and completely anticipated. "Khri, will you please tell me exactly what happened the night you arrived on Earth?"

Stretching her long legs out in front of her, Khri carefully recounted the events of just a few days earlier. Every so often he would nod or ask her to clarify a point, but one thing Khri new how to do well was tell a complete story without unnecessary embellishment or bragging. Long hours stuffed into smelly tavern corners had nurtured impatience with the ridiculous, boisterous yarns told by other species, especially when drawled through a haze of alcohol or pleasure drugs. When she finished her tale, Dende's expression vacillated between curious excitement and worry.

"Are you sure these Telkarri don't threaten Earth? And what about the Tigradi clan?"

Khri sighed, sending small ripples across the surface of her cooling tea. "I can't make promises, Dende, and I certainly won't lie to you. The Telkarri pose a mild threat to Earth, but I have good reason to believe they're about to be contained. Permanently. I'm more worried about Clan tensions at the moment and what impact, if any, they could have here." It was then that she remembered her neglected slimpad. There could be a dozen or more new missives on it by now! "I might know more later today, and worrying about it until then is pointless."

"You're right," he said softly. "It gets discouraging sometimes, though. After all the Earth has been through - the Saiyans, Dr. Gero and his androids, Cell, and then Buu - I wonder if the planet is being targeted for destruction."

"I understand your feelings, Dende," Khri sympathized, "but I can assure you there are hundreds, if not thousands of worlds, that have been victimized merely because they exist, or they have something someone else wants and has the power to take it. Your birth world, Old Namek, is a perfect example." She had been looking for an opportunity to bring up the subject and tried to keep her voice from sounding too intense. "Do you know anything about the cataclysm that killed everyone but Guru?"

Dende shook his head sadly. "No. Guru never talked about it and didn't pass on the memory of what happened. Many of us wondered, but Muri always told us not to bring it up. He thought that asking about it would be too painful for Guru."

Khri sighed in disappointment. "Understandable, but it could prove to be shortsighted. I hope you don't think I'm prying, but my questions are important. Are you certain there are absolutely no other Nameks on other worlds? I know the previous Guardian came here right after the catastrophe. Did he leave any records? Any notes?"

"Nothing," Dende said, shaking his head. "He didn't even realize he was an alien until the Saiyans came here and said Piccolo was a Namekian. The only thing we do know is what he told Mr. Popo; that he was sent here as a child with a note telling him to wait for others. They never came. He also has no memory of his childhood on Namek. Is that right, Mr. Popo?"

"Yes, Kami-Sama," the genie said, clearing away the cold tea pot and setting down a hot one. "Previous Kami-Sama never talked to Popo about it again, either."

It was hard for Khri to keep her disappointment from showing. There was just one question left. "Dende, have you ever heard the word 'Eudori'?"

"Eudori," he repeated slowly. "Eudu means 'forgotten' in Namekian but that's the only word that comes close."

"In my language, the word stands for a combination of 'renewal' and 'setting forth.' It's an archaic word with a strange definition. One I've been puzzling over for many, many years."

Dende frowned. "So much was lost during the cataclysm, Muri says we may never know or recover it all. If that word goes back to a time before it happened and wasn't used often, it might be why I don't remember it. Why is it important?"

Khri stared hard at the young Guardian, unsure that he was prepared for what she was about to say. He's got to know, sooner or later, if he doesn't already, she reminded herself. "Dende, that single word has something to do with the future of Namekians."

His eyes rounded in surprise. Out of the corner of her eye Khri thought she saw Piccolo's ear twitch. "What? Why?"

"Right now I don't know," she said frankly. "Over the past three decades I've been working on a special project assigned to me by Eldest. He knew that Namek had suffered a terrible loss but was unable to discover why. He began to grow alarmed that the population wasn't recovering. Oh, Guru did the best he could on his own, but your race continued to be...ah," Khri felt herself blushing. "...Unproductive. He asked me to research it, find out the cause and come to a conclusion, since Namek didn't have the resources to do a thorough job."

Dende saw through her neutral expression. "You found that we're dying out. Didn't you?"

"So, its no secret to you." Khri felt relief; at least she wouldn't be trying to convince a Namek in total denial. "I'm sorry. The information I have and the models I've run all show the same thing. The cataclysm permanently damaged Namekian society and their viability as a race. Frieza's rampage accelerated the inevitable." She paused, struggling to find a way to ease what she was about to say. "I don't know how to explain this...but current Namekian reproductive methods were intended to be....er...redundant."

"Redundant?"

Khri definitely saw Piccolo's ears twitch and one eye open. "Tissue samples confirmed long ago that Nameks weren't originally asexual. I don't know what happened to your females - maybe they were evacuated during the cataclysm and never returned - but your current method was redundant, a backup in case of emergencies. As a primary means of reproduction it worked for a while, but eventual failure is imminent. Other species have developed similar methods, but only used them for a short time." She leaned back, softening her tone. "Now do you understand why I asked if other Nameks could be out there?"

"I...I do." Dende's voice was barely above a whisper as he stared at the table. "But I don't think there are. Several years ago Goku visited Kaio-Sama on his planet, to ask for help in finding New Namek. Kaio-Sama was able to help him sense their chi, but Goku never mentioned feeling other Namekians. If they existed, I'm sure Goku would have felt them. But Khri..." he looked up, "...what does all of this have to do with that word, 'Eudori'?"

Khri closed her eyes and took a deep breath. None of the information Eldest had given her for the project had pointed to a solution, nor had the clues she'd gleaned herself. All possible trails lead to Namekian extinction. With one exception.

Eudori.

She opened her eyes. "While researching the problem, I've been blocked at certain points and just plain stumped by others. There have been times when I've pursued a line of information, thinking there might be something there, when I'm stopped cold by one word. Every time I tried to find out more about it, I get a nasty little missive informing me the information is classified."

"Eudori?"

"Yes." Khri pushed away from the table and started pacing, a habit she'd broken ages ago. Stress, on rare occasion, could push her back into it. "I don't know if it's a person, or a place. I can't even find out if its real or if it is, if it still exists!" she snapped fiercely. "I've petitioned Eldest to release the files but he won't do it! Dammit, I don't know why he insisted I take on this project when he hoards the information I need to complete it!"

Dende stood up and stepped into Khri's path, effectively stopping her. "Would it help if I spoke to Great Elder Muri again? I can ask him about Eudori. Maybe Guru said something to him."

She forced herself to unclench her fists, brought up short by the worry and fright on Dende's face. "That would be very helpful. I need to get in contact with the Leonid flagship, the Aughenai, and find out the status of the Telkarri containment and Clan friction. I can come back later...if Piccolo is willing to bring me."

"Will you be going to Bulma's party tomorrow night? I'll be there. I'm sure we'll be able to discuss it further there, in private."

Khri flinched. She'd forgotten all about the party! "You just reminded me I need to contact Bulma and accept her invitation!" Dende knows Bulma? How did that come about? There must be hundreds of stories these people share! "Hopefully we'll both know more by then."

Dende smiled in approval, but then turned serious. "Khri, I feel I need to tell you something...personal. I apologize if you already know about it." He lowered his voice to a level she knew Piccolo couldn't hear. "When I was healing you, I noticed something strange. Your left shoulder..."

Khri smiled gently at the young Namek as they walked together towards the door. "You found that, did you? Its not so strange, and certainly nothing to be worried about. What you found was old scar tissue that our medics can't do anything about." Khri closed her eyes, remembering but refusing to relive the spectacular disaster that had landed her in a wound recovery center for weeks. Time and coaxing on her part had faded the scar on her back to a star-shaped web of thin, gold lines. The exit wound in the front was barely visible now. "My left shoulder is a bit weaker than my right, but its not enough to cause problems."

Dende raised one eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he asked, sounding unconvinced.

"Positive. The last mandatory checkup I had came back fine. I'm not the type to let an injury go unchecked." She bit down on her lip when she realized what she'd said. Liar. You still have those scars on your wrist. What's your excuse for that?

"I don't know, but it didn't feel like scar tissue to me," Dende said. "It felt...hard. Like a rope, snaking along the back of your collarbone."

Hand moving unconsciously to her shoulder, Khri used her thumb to prod the area he found suspicious. Like a rope...along the back of my collarbone... There was something about his description that tugged on her memory. Why would he mention old scar tissue and not the medical implant in the back of her neck? "If I get an opportunity, I'll have it checked again."

"I wish there was something I could do for you," he said as they stepped back into the glare of the early afternoon sun. "Unfortunately bodies think that old injuries - even improperly healed ones - don't need fixing. Like scars."

"You're a wonderful healer, Dende, and I'm sure you're an even better Guardian." Khri returned Dende's grin.

Piccolo appeared outside the palace and joined them between the palms. "Is your little tea party over with, or should I just go back inside?"

That's what eavesdropping will earn you when you're pretending to be meditating, Khri thought. It would have been amusing except he would probably want to ask his own set of questions about what he'd overheard. "The 'tea party,' as you call it, was necessary," she shot back smoothly. "There are occasions when respecting tradition will earn you more rewards than just flattening everything in sight."

"Are you ready to go back? I didn't plan on wasting all my time up here."

Khri bit down on the half dozen snarky retorts that came to mind. "Then I apologize for taking so long and not considering the possibility you may have had other plans today. If you would be so kind as to return me home, I promise not to infringe on your time any further."

Piccolo actually took a step backward at the chill in her voice. It had taken her years to master Eldest's frosty, authoritative tone, and this was another time it served her well. His dark eyes bored holes into hers as he struggled to come up with a reply. "Fine!" he finally growled, hands clenched.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Guardian." She gave Dende another formal bow. "I will see you at the party tomorrow, and I look forward to talking with you again."

"The feeling is mutual! Goodbye, Khri!" Dende raised his hand in farewell.

"It's about time," Piccolo muttered, grasping her shoulder. "You are the most damned strange female..." Two fingers went to his eye ridge.

"So you've said, Namek. So you've said."

AN: What a rough chapter! Long on narrative, short on action...not one of my favorite things to write! Ah well...on with the party!