Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Errant Exile ❯ The Low Road and High Road ( Chapter 12 )

Errant Exile

Chapter 11: "The Low Road and High Road"

AN: This chapter decided to insert itself into the story! I had every intention of getting Khri to the party ASAP, but she decided to take a road trip and spoiled my plans. In hindsight I think it was a nice addition to character development.

Khri's Highlander motorcycle is based on the gorgeous Dodge Tomahawk, a drool-worthy concept bike with a Viper V-10 engine that will pull 500 hp. Do a search on it - you have to see it to believe it.

"Why can't simple plans just stay simple?" - Khri

The morning was clear and bright after the last of the pre-dawn thunderstorms rolled out to sea, leaving the air cool and fresh. A few stray seagulls lofted high on the breezes as Khri watched from her vantage point on the cliffs above, then brushed an errant strand of blonde hair from her eyes. She turned and walked back to where the new motorcycle waited by the side of the road, then slipped the goggles back over her eyes. She remounted and punched in the code to unlock the ignition, smiling as the engine purred to life.

Having returned from the Lookout yesterday afternoon feeling invigorated thanks to Dende's healing skills, Khri had gone to work at once. Piccolo had bid her a curt farewell and left without a word after practically dumping her on the beach. She almost felt insulted, but then decided that this was just another one of his normal behaviors and the rudeness wasn't deliberate. The next few hours were devoted to dealing with the missives on her slimpad, reassuring Sai that she was doing just fine, and placing an order of furnishings for the house. The friendly grocer had sent along another shipment of easy-to-heat meals and the local technician arrived to activate the telephone. It was when she was searching for an extra long bed that she stumbled on an ad for the big bike.

The Highlander motorcycle, the newest high-end model rolling off Capsule Corporation's production lines, was the first impulse purchase she'd made in years. An aircar or a small plane would have been more practical but the specifications of the cycle had been irresistible. Spaceships, after all, weren't covered in gorgeous shiny chrome, didn't have flashy blue lights between the twin front tires, and didn't let you feel as if you were flying without leaving the ground. After its delivery the previous night - in a capsule, of all things! -- she'd packed a knapsack, spent another night on the bedroll, and left early the next morning. Khri leaned with the motorcycle as she took a curve faster than the posted speed. Ha! Leave it to humans to invent machines for the sole purpose of having fun!

Khri took the next several curves at high speed, ignoring the angry squawks of seabirds scattered by her passing. The road had been winding in and out of seaside cliffs for most of the morning, but just ahead it would veer northwest and leave the coast behind. According to the map she'd purchased when fueling up, driving to Capsule Corporation's headquarters, where Bulma's party was being held, would require a three day road trip. Sai had notified her that the tech crew wouldn't be installing the security windows and the computer for nearly another week, so she had plenty of time to enjoy herself. When she checked her mirrors she often would include the sky as well as the road; on more than one occasion she felt as if she were being followed. It could be Piccolo, but after that little stunt the Tigradi tried to pull I can't dismiss anything, she thought.

The rest of the morning passed quickly as Khri drove through a broad and ever changing landscape. The tropical flora vanished soon after she left the coastal region and the cliff side road, changing to a grassy plain before merging into lush foothills beneath a range of tree-covered mountains. She glanced at the bike's chronometer. Thanks to the spectacular weather and light traffic Khri found she'd shaved off more kilometers than she had expected. Check-in at her hotel wasn't until late afternoon, and getting there early would just be a waste of a perfectly good day. She decided that Ahtai's atrocious ration bar would stay in her pack. She was going to stop for a real lunch instead.

The air grew cooler and smelled of pine as the road twisted its way up and wound through the wooded mountains. Khri shivered, grateful for the lined leather jacket she'd purchased along with other Earth-type clothing. Given all the skimpy dresses most women on the television seemed to prefer, she was pleasantly surprised to find practical, comfortable clothing existed too. Her new black sweater was soft and warm, the matching black jeans were still scratchy but fit comfortably and the rubber-soled short boots had a lot more cushioning than her standard issue pair did. Sai would have grumbled about her refusal to buy anything sensual or colorful rather than practical, but old habits died hard. She grimaced at the sudden twinge of homesickness, then kicked the bike into a higher gear. It was past the noon hour when the road began a steep incline down and led into the first town Khri had seen in many kilometers.

"Anisdale" barely met the definition of the word "town." It consisted of a gas station fused with a small grocery store, a diner and a run-down bar, all of them crowded along the south side of the road. No houses had been built in Anisdale, probably due to the cramped building conditions in the little valley. A towering rock wall, created when the road was blasted through, dominated the north side of the road with just enough allowance for a wide shoulder. She rode past a semi-truck and trailer that had parallel parked on the shoulder, squeezing the already narrowed road even further.

The diner's gravel parking lot was packed with aircars and smaller trucks. She considered trying the food at the less busy tavern, but the unsavory-looking band of men that staggered out the doorway made her reconsider. Khri pulled around the side of the diner and out of sight of the windows, turned off the bike and dismounted.

When Khri had purchased the Highlander the last thing she expected was for it to arrive in a box no bigger than her hand. At first she thought it might have been the codes to unlock it but inside, wrapped in blister packing, was a large capsule with a thumb switch on one end. It took three or four tries to convince herself she'd actually seen the big machine appear and disappear in a puff of white smoke. It sure beats finding a parking place and worrying about thieves, Khri thought as she stuffed her goggles into her knapsack, typed in the bike's locking codes and stepped aside. Sure enough, it gave a repeat performance of last night's show and encapsulated itself. She pocketed the capsule, promising herself she'd talk to Bulma about a possible military contract for the amazing things, and made her way to the front door.

The diner's counter bore the bulk of the lunch crowd as men sat shoulder to shoulder. Voices clashed with the rattle of dishes, the ringing of the register and the droning jukebox in the corner. Many of the customers were either finishing their meals or paying their bills now that the lunch rush was over, making the staff rush to clear off emptying tables. Khri walked casually past them to the ladies room, washed the dust from her hands and face, then returned to the dining area where she found a semi-private booth in the front corner. It was surrounded on two sides by windows that overlooked the parking lot, which gave her the choice of watching the room for suspicious activity or watching the parking lot for the same. Old habits really do die hard, she mused as she tossed her knapsack on the seat, slid in next to it stared out the windows.

The waiter, a middle-aged man who ate too little and smoked too much, appeared at Khri's table. She ordered the recommended sandwich - a concoction called a "slider" and cold tea - then revisited the phone conversation she had with Bulma the previous day.

The woman had been both kind and gracious but Khri was very glad she'd declined the offer to stay at the Briefs' house. "We've got plenty of guest space! You must stay overnight with us," Bulma had insisted. "I know Trunks wants to talk with you again, and he tells me Goten is eager to meet you!"

"I appreciate your generous offer, Bulma, especially to a stranger, but I don't want to make Vegeta uncomfortable in his own home." Not quite the truth, but a political answer was sometimes the best one.

"Nonsense! Vegeta spends so much of his time in the gravity room training he often doesn't even notice it when we do have guests!"

Khri had to pull the receiver away from her ear to keep the woman's increasing volume from becoming painful. "But won't he be at the party?"

"Of course!" Bulma boomed. "Dear, Vegeta scowls at everybody, whether he likes them or not. I'm just going to follow the usual routine and keep him out of the kitchen the day of the party so he's good and hungry. That way he'll be too busy shoveling food into his face to pick a fight with anybody."

Rumors had reached Leonid space about Saiyan eating habits long before Khri had witnessed it first hand at Goku's table. Bulma, it seemed, knew her husband's weak spot and was experienced in using it to her advantage. "Thank you, Bulma, but I don't want to cause Vegeta any more discomfort than necessary."

"I wish you'd reconsider, but at least coming to the party. I'm just glad Piccolo kept his promise and delivered your invitation. He was so grumpy when I gave it to him I was certain he'd throw it away."

Khri had smiled to herself, deciding not to mention its little seawater bath. Before she hung up the phone she willingly promised to arrive at least an hour early for a quick tour of the Capsule labs. If something as wonderful as the motorcycle and capsule technology came from there, who knows what else Bulma is working on, she wondered.

The waiter arrived with her food, his hand shaking to the point of spilling her tea as he set down the glass. Khri saw that his eyes were shifting over to the far side of the diner, and a small drop of sweat ran down the side of his face. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly.

"There might be trouble," the waiter muttered, wiping his hands on his splotchy apron. "Three young punks just came in, probably from a gang. We've been seeing more of that type lately." He looked her up and down. "You look like a nice lady," he whispered hoarsely. "If they start something you go past the restrooms and out the back door, ok?"

"Thanks for the warning," she said. "I'll be careful."

Pretending to dig into the sandwich, Khri watched out of the corner of her eye as three young men took over a booth on the other side of the dining room. The song rattling out of the jukebox seemed louder as conversations either quieted or faded away, the other diners sharing anxious, sidelong looks. A few of the burlier customers, probably the drivers of the delivery trucks, straightened in their seats and leveled warning glares at the threesome. Their casual clothing - identical blue jeans, white tee shirts and battered leather jackets - could be an indication they were gang members, but her lack of experience on Earth made her uncertain. Muscles rippled under their tees but she was willing to bet they were the type earned in a gymnasium rather than in productive physical labor. A quick check on her shielding confirmed they weren't Tigradi. They were also watching her with more than just a casual leer as they hassled the waitress trying to take their order.

The tea was cold but tasteless as Khri's mind scurried to anticipate every potential problem before it happened. They could be just stopping for lunch, as I did. They could be gang members, like the waiter suspects. I could also be putting all these innocents in serious trouble. Have the Tigradi gone mad, using ignorant humans to chase me down? Dammit! If she could make her way outside and unencapsulate the motorcycle, Khri felt she stood a good chance of drawing the troublemakers away from the diner. The roadmap to Capsule Corporation hadn't provided any information on the terrain ahead, but the pine forests she'd just left would provide good cover where she could deal with them appropriately if necessary. She ate slowly, noticing that the thugs hadn't ordered food. She felt only slightly reassured by the feeling of her diacha pressed against her ribcage. She'd reluctantly torn a makeshift pocket in the lining of her jacket for it, but was now glad she had. It's a good thing old habits do die hard, she thought as she crumpled her paper napkin in her lap.

A shock rippled down Khri's back, causing her to gasp as the charge traveled down the backs of her legs and arms. It felt as if someone had dropped a piece of ice down the back of her sweater. It had happened at least once before on Earth; someone or something had brushed against her natural shielding and they hadn't used blackfire. She took another swallow of the tea to hide her discomfiture. The brush had been hard, clumsy and intentional but she could feel no hostility at all. She slowly lowered the glass, surprised and confused at the only conclusion that made any sense.

Piccolo.

How can he do such a thing? Khri's thoughts scrambled for an answer. Like most other species Nameks were confined to using chi and shouldn't be able to touch her shielding at all. The few known races that did use blackfire, other than her own, could never survive on a world with an oxygen and nitrogen atmosphere. Had Piccolo's upbringing on Earth made the difference, and would Dende be able to do the same? No time to riddle this out now, she admonished herself, grabbing her knapsack and the check. The important thing was Piccolo was very near, knew where she was and had made a deliberate attempt to get her attention. Was he merely letting her know he was nearby, or was he trying to convey a warning?

Khri paid her bill and headed for the front door, backpack dangling from her left hand. She hoped she didn't need to use it as a shield; her slimpad was durable but wouldn't stand up to a direct assault. In the reflection of the glass door, an instant before she pulled it open, she saw the toughs move to leave the booth. The door swung shut behind her as she fished the diacha from its improvised pocket and discreetly tucked it up her sleeve.

The end of the lunch rush had nearly emptied the parking lot. Only a few vehicles remained, one of which was a large, white mail truck parked near the entrance. It provided Khri with a short term hiding place from which to take a look around. A few empty air cars waited for their owners, as did a half dozen small delivery trucks. There were two vehicles of immediate concern. The first was the semi and its trailer that still sat across the street, the second a black passenger van with dark tinted windows. She looked the nearby buildings up and down but there was no sign of Piccolo. There were still plenty of customers in the diner which meant witnesses, unless she could lure her pursuers out of town. Khri took a deep breath, forced her shoulders to relax, stepped out from behind the truck and started walking towards the road. Her free hand reached into her pocket and fished out the capsule containing the Highlander. She dropped her knapsack, thumbed the capsule's switch and tossed it a few feet away, waiting just long enough to confirm the motorcycle's reappearance before turning around.

The leader was the tallest, with slicked-back dark hair and a face that would have been handsome if it weren't for the leer. He struck a match and lit the cigarette dangling from one corner of his mouth. His companions were both shorter and much broader, the obvious muscle of the group. All three of them looked as if they still belonged in a youth academy if Khri guessed their human ages correctly.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" she asked calmly, folding her arms and leaning against the Highlander.

The leader halted, waved out the match and flicked it into the gravel. "I think you might," he replied with a nasty grin. "That's a nice motorcycle you've got there. A new one by Capsule, right? I think I saw a picture of one in a magazine." He began to circle around to Khri's left and the other two fanned out.

"You can stop right there," she said softly. "If you'd like a closer look, I suggest you visit a sales office. This one isn't available."

"Aww, I just wanted to look at it. Of course," he added, his eyes slowly moving down Khri's body, "I'd like a closer look at the rider, too..."

Cold anger started to burn in Khri's chest as her face warmed in embarrassment, which added fuel to her temper. What are the Tigradi thinking, daring to insult me by hiring this refuse to follow me? Do they think I've gone soft and won't kill this vermin? Her fingers coaxed her diacha out of her sleeve and into her hand.

The lead thug took a long puff of the cigarette, exhaling the smoke as he tossed it aside. "Such a pretty lady shouldn't be traveling all alone. Bad things can happen on the road. Hey, I know! That bike is big enough for two. Why don't I go with you?" He took a meaningful step forward. "I'd be happy to let you do the driving..."

Khri's right hand snapped up, a single diacha blade shimmering, at the same time a knot of blackfire appeared in her left. All signs of sneer and leer fell from his face and he froze, staring down at the hissing light hovering underneath his chin. Khri glared at his companions, one at a time, through slitted eyes as she drew back her left arm. "Run," she said quietly.

The leader flinched. "Not you," she whispered, lifting the blade higher and forcing his head back.

The two other thugs lost their nerve and fled towards the black van. They fumbled with the latches until the doors opened, then scrambled inside and slammed them shut. Satisfied she had two fewer problems, Khri turned back to her captive. She quenched the blade and the blackfire, then rammed the hot end of the diacha into the man's neck. "If you move, I'll turn this back on and fry a hole through your pathetic little brain. Who sent you?"

Now sweating profusely and trembling the man stammered, "I...he never told me his name!"

Khri's hand gripped the neck of his tee shirt and jerked him closer. "What did he want?"

"He...he wanted to know where you were going! He paid me...paid us...twenty-five thousand zeni...plus twenty-five thousand later...to follow you and find out!"

"Is the man who paid you here? Do you know where he is now?"

"No...I don't know! He wasn't in the diner, I swear!"

Khri's jaw tightened. She never talked to vermin, especially before or during a fight, and having to resort to questioning the sniveling creature irritated her all the more. She gave the human a hard shove, sending him sprawling backward to the ground and sliding several feet. "If I see you again I will kill you," she growled, pointing the diacha at him.

The black van suddenly roared to life. The taillights flickered as it went into reverse, spinning the rear tires and spewing gravel. The sliding side door flew open and one of the thugs appeared, urging their fearless leader to get in. He frantically got to his feet, the back of his clothes ripped and frayed from his slide across the parking lot, and jumped inside. As the van pulled away he threw a terrified look at Khri before the door slammed shut. It careened back onto the road, nearly hitting the Highlander as it sped past and headed west.

Khri stared after it. "I hope I just didn't make a big mistake by letting them go," she murmured to herself. "Perhaps I am getting soft..."

The unexpected rumble of a large engine made her look up. The semi truck belched black carbon into the air from its exhaust pipes and the headlights turned on. Frowning, Khri returned the motorcycle to its capsule and the safety of her pocket, never taking her eyes from the truck as it slowly moved into the road. It had been unhitched from its trailer, leaving it resting alongside the road like a beached leviathan. She could make out the driver but as far as she could tell there was no passenger. She began to step backwards, angling away from the diner, when she felt the tell-tale surge of a blackfire power-up.

Diacha snapped into its bo form, Khri lunged into the road and vaulted herself up a moment before the blast hit the concrete. She landed in a large cloud of dust and gravel, but the crater in the middle of the road didn't slow down the semi. The driver pulled his arm back in the window and drove into it, scraping bottom as it climbed out again. The rig changed direction and veered away from the diner just as a small group of people spilled out the door. "Get back inside!" Khri shouted, not taking her eyes from the truck now bearing down on her. Even without its trailer to drag it down it was slow to accelerate, and she decided to take advantage of the time. That idiot can't attack what he can't see! She tightened her shielding, watched the distance close between herself and the front bumper, then took off running straight at the oncoming rig.

The driver, his eyes glowing behind the tinted glass of the windshield, hadn't expected the stunt. Before he could stretch his arm out the window and form up an attack, Khri vaulted onto the truck's hood, ran up the windshield and disappeared over the top. She let one of the blades dissipate, transferred the energy to the other one, and plunged it straight down through the sheet metal roof of the cab. The driver bellowed in pain the same instant a pale lavender diacha blade sliced up through the roof. It nicked her left arm just above the wrist and she took a step back, careful not to lose her balance. The blade vanished as her attacker lost control of both his weapon and the truck, which started to careen off the road and headed straight for the rock wall. Khri took a deep breath, slid down the windshield to the hood and took a flying leap. The landing was hard but controlled as she rolled away, stopping just in time to see the semi sideswipe the side of the mountain. Showers of sparks flew to the tune of shrieking metal as the truck continued grinding against stone for many feet before shuddering to a stop.

Khri got to her feet and ran, feeling her fury grow with every step. Before she reached the cab she could see the driver had slumped over the steering wheel. A trickle of leaking fuel snaked it way out from under the rig and began crawling towards the road. Dammit, I hope he's not dead yet! She leaped onto the running boards, grabbed hold of the window frame and the latch, then ripped the door off the hinges and threw it down.

The driver, dressed in a set of well-worn and ill-fitting Earth clothes, was barely alive. The green glow in his eyes was already starting to fade. Khri fisted her hand in his shirt and hauled him out of the truck. His clothing was ripped and scorched at the right shoulder where her diacha had sunk deep. It had bored through his torso and left an exit wound and similar burn just below his left ribcage. "Why are you here?" she demanded, her gold eyes burning into his emerald ones as she pulled his bloodied face close.

Blood trickled from his mouth but the Tigradi managed a sneer. "That's funny...Battle Commander...I was...supposed to...ask you the same thing." The light in his eyes went out and his head lolled back.

Khri dropped the corpse but continued staring at it, lost in thought. She slowly tucked her diacha into her jacket lining, then looked back down the road at the diner. Aircar after aircar was fleeing the scene, hurrying down the road in the opposite direction the van had taken. At least one truck squealed its tires in its haste. Two or three customers stood at the side of the road, looking in her direction, but ran away when they saw her drop the body.

"Your friend Sai underestimates you. It looks to me like you can take care of yourself."

Khri didn't immediately turn at the sound of the gruff voice. "Just how long have you been watching all this, Namek?"

"Long enough to know they aren't serious about killing you."

"You noticed that too, eh?" She picked up the body of the Tigradi and tossed it back in the cab. "I don't know whether to feel relieved or insulted." She also wasn't sure if she felt relieved or insulted Piccolo had been following her.

When she turned from the cab she startled. Piccolo was standing right behind her, customary scowl on his face and arms folded. He moves too fast for comfort, she grumbled to herself. Standing on the rig's running boards put her at eye level with him and she was surprised to see his expression soften. "You're hurt." He firmly but gently grasped her wrist and forced her to extend her injured arm.

Khri looked down at her sleeve. It had a large gash and her new sweater, made of synthetics, had melted edges where it had been burned through. Her clothes had taken the brunt of the damage but the Tigradi's blade had left a long scorch mark across the inside of her arm. It did sting, but she was far more conscious of Piccolo's strong, callused fingers wrapped around her wrist. She stiffened at the skin-to-skin contact and fought the urge to jerk away. Not even Sai would have attempted such a thing, but etiquette on Earth was far more relaxed than what was tolerated on a Leonid battle cruiser. Casual physical touch was something she would have to get used to whether she liked it or not. "It's not bad," she said, suddenly mindful of the four small scars covered by his warm fingers. How ironic is this? The first time we meet he intentionally chomps me, now thirty years later he's concerned that I'm hurt! She moved to pull her arm back and he released her. "There's some burn tape in my medical kit. I'll take care of it when I reach my hotel."

Piccolo's frown darkened again. "You mean Sai isn't coming down to help you this time?"

Khri looked up at the unconcealed sneer in his voice. "What is going on between you two?" she asked in exasperation and surprise. "I've got an implant that sends a signal if I'm in serious medical trouble. This isn't serious, so Sai isn't coming." She jumped down from the running boards and walked over to the mangled remains of the door. "I'm still trying to figure out what my Second used to persuade you to keep an eye on me," she said as she kicked it forward until it wedged underneath the truck's frame. "The best weapon in that crafty bastard's arsenal is guilt. He wields it as well as ChiChi does her pans."

"We need to back off," Piccolo said brusquely, his sharp nose wrinkling as he changed the subject. "This thing is leaking fuel and could blow up any second."

"That's what I'm counting on," Khri replied, not pressing the topic for the moment. "A good hot fire should keep investigators from figuring out the 'victim' wasn't human. I really don't want to stay here long enough to answer questions, do you?"

"Then let's stop wasting time." Before she could object, Piccolo had snatched her up and was headed for the sky. He hovered above the truck at a safe distance, shifting her weight so one arm curved around her back, the other her knees. "Are you going to clean up the mess or should I?"

"It's my mess. I'll deal with it." Very soon, you and I are going to have a 'discussion,' Junior. You're starting to take too many liberties with me and its going to stop. She managed to keep her emotions in check in spite of feeling her face flush. Nothing spoiled a perfectly good blackfire draw better than uncontrolled anger or embarrassment. "Whatever you do, keep your chi as tight as possible without letting us fall." She clutched his armored shoulder with her left hand and extended her right, giving the seething sphere just enough energy to blow up the truck without taking out the valley. Palm out, Khri released it and watched with satisfaction as it slammed into the truck. Its fuel tank must have been nearly full, she thought as she watched the big fireball billow outward and upward. Piccolo took them higher and away from the plume of smoke that coiled into the sky.

Khri felt him staring at her, his expression unreadable. "I think I should take you to Capsule myself. You've wasted enough of the day on that machine of yours."

"What makes you think it was wasted?" She was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. The strength and muscular bulk of the arms beneath her back and legs tapped into feelings of vulnerability, feelings she hadn't experienced in years and didn't miss. "I've got plenty of time in spite of that little incident back there. I also learned that the Tigradi are just as clueless as I am as to why I'm on Earth, which means Eldest has Leonid security working overtime to keep it that way. And that 'machine' you feel such contempt for is the closest I'll ever come to flying on my own." Khri scowled, feeling her cheeks flush even darker as she looked away. She hadn't intended for that little admission to slip out but it was painfully true. Flight wasn't possible for the rare species that used blackfire; the cold emotional control required just couldn't provide enough energy. The freedom of the motorcycle, earthbound as it was, let her feel more in control over her own life than she had in recent memory.

"Khri."

She recognized the tone of his voice as Piccolo said her name. It was the same one he'd used a few days earlier after casually insulting her appearance, then realized what he'd done. Khri knew it was the closest thing to an apology she would ever get from him.

"Khri, all you need to do is ask."

Her eyes returned to his face. Piccolo, I think I just figured out which weapon Sai used on you. That sneaky bastard had it hidden so well I didn't know he had it! "You have your own life. I don't want to be a burden."

The big Namek snorted. "Being trapped in a room with Vegeta is a burden. Watching Saiyans eat or listening to Bulma talk about shopping is a burden. You don't qualify."

Eyes widening, Khri nearly gasped at the compliment. His expression was stony and he didn't meet her gaze, but there was no mistaking his honesty in making the offer. Here was a man who wouldn't try to placate, lie or wheedle for political favors. When his dark eyes glanced back at her, she gave him a faint smile. "I'll need to retrieve my knapsack, if its still there."

The skin over Piccolo's nose wrinkled as he flashed her a wicked grin. "Think you can grab it on the fly?"

Khri couldn't hold in that gasp. "Are you serious?"

Piccolo's grip tightened, pulling her closer.

He was serious!

To Be Continued...