Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Errant Exile ❯ Elhoi ei Sengrahni ( Chapter 19 )

Errant Exile

Chapter 18: “Elhoi ei Sengrahni”

Focus. Fight. Live.

Darkness was eating at the edges of her pain, nibbling on the sharp corners and razor thin edges, making them dull. Each bite of the thickening blackness weakened agony’s painful grip a bit more. The dark was welcoming, warm and hinted at the end of the suffering, not just the burning fire consuming the skin, sinew and bone she’d known for so long. The numbness began to soak in more deeply, making it hard to remember a time in which she had fingers, arms and an impaled shoulder, or a need to breathe.

Focus. Fight. Live!

A distant memory surfaced, drawing close enough for her to actually relive a bit of it. Those words...I said something much like them a long time ago. But these sound different...and I don’t think the voice is mine.

Focus. Fight. We’ll be fast.

Curiosity sparked and its light forced the soothing dark to retreat. The pain gained ground but her thoughts cleared. I know I never said that and I’m sure that’s not my voice! Who is it?

Fight, dammit!

She felt the darkness pulling back as if someone was drawing aside a thick velvet curtain. The curious spark was swallowed by the onslaught of light, noise and a deep, world-encompassing warmth. Lungs expanded and sucked in a deep breath, then took a few more as the pain was whisked away. Fingers began to tingle and moved inside metal-clad gloves. Her nose twitched, assaulted with the metallic smells of blood and acid-eaten metal. There was another scent tickling her nose, but this hinted of salt, sunshine and fresh air.

“That was too close.” A shadow fell away and a youthful voice trembled through a sigh of relief.

Khri slowly opened her eyes, blinked, then frowned in confusion. Her face was pressed into folds of warm, purple fabric that draped a harder surface. She could hear breathing that wasn’t her own and the muffled sound of a heartbeat. Where am I and what happened to me? When she picked her head up she found herself looking into a pair of intense black eyes that stared at her from underneath heavy ridges instead of brows. The expression on the Namekian’s sharp, green face was harsh as he brushed something off her cheek with his thumb. “You’re all right now. We were fast,” he growled gently.

Piccolo!

Dende and Gohan appeared behind Piccolo’s shoulders. “We’re lucky we found you when we did,” Gohan said with a smile. One sleeve of his dress shirt was torn off at the shoulder and small holes had been burned through the other. “You gave us quite a scare.”

Khri gasped when her memories of the day came rushing back. “The city! Did you save the city?” Her armored hands fisted into Piccolo’s gi top. “The Telkarri were all over...I couldn’t stop all of them...”

“Vegeta and Trunks are finishing them off,” Piccolo rumbled. He glanced sideways at Gohan, the hint of a wry smile on his face. “Once he’s done, Vegeta will probably show up here just to gloat.”

Khri was unconvinced. “What about Pan? Did she...?”

“Its ok,” Gohan interrupted. “Pan found us at the training grounds and told us what was happening. I sent her to my folks’ house to wait, then Piccolo, Goten and I came as soon as we could.”

“Bulma and ChiChi were in the city with me. Have you heard...?”

Dende wiped the sweat from his brow away with a handkerchief provided by Mr. Popo. “I’m sure Vegeta or Trunks will find them, wherever they are. Oh! Kuririn is on his way!”

A polite cough demanded their attention. Khri and Piccolo both looked up to see Gohan’s face quirked in a bright grin, the hint of a blush coloring his face. “Uh...I really hate to interrupt, but you might want to move before Kuririn or anybody else gets here if you don’t want to answer a lot of questions.”

It took a moment for Khri to figure out what Gohan was hinting at. Her armor shielded her from most physical sensation, so she was surprised to find the pressure around her upper arms and chest was caused by Piccolo’s arms wrapped around her. Both of them were on their knees which explained why Dende and Gohan had seemed so tall. Her eyes locked with Piccolo’s and self-consciously felt her face heating up. His cheeks were flushing purple as he slowly released her. Dammit, I can’t believe I still can’t control this, Khri growled to herself as she scooted backwards on her knees and stood up. Piccolo got to his feet and pointedly distanced himself from her.

The air next to Dende began to shimmer, then solidified into the shape of a small man with a head of thick, dark hair. Khri’s eyes widened in admiration; she’d been teleported twice now but this was the first time she actually got to see someone materialize out of thin air. “Hey!” Kuririn shouted in greeting, his face serious as he rushed towards them. “Eighteen and I were watching a feature on the upcoming tournament when a reporter broke in and said Satan City had been attacked! The guy kept reporting until his truck...” He caught sight of Khri and his voice trailed off, his eyes widening in shock. “You! It was you! I knew it!”

Khri frowned. “Pardon?”

Kuririn’s gape transformed into a grin. “There was a news crew trapped on the roof of a building. They shot footage of you fighting your way down a street that was packed with stalled cars. I’ve never seen anything like it! Eighteen started swearing when the reporter kept calling you a ‘he.’ As if that wasn’t enough, the idiot kept throwing out the possibility of Satan City getting a new Great Saiyaman.” He cryptically winked at Gohan but Piccolo just snorted. “They lost sight of you when a nearby explosion shook the building so hard their camera fell and broke.”

Then they didn’t see me without my helmet...that’s one good thing. Khri regretted leaving it behind for the authorities to find, but she had to take it off once the screens failed. Toting it into battle would have been just plain stupid. She grimaced at the thought of her image plastered on television screens all over the planet and felt the blush return. She hated good and bad publicity equally and the questions that always resulted.

“That weapon of yours is amazing,” Kuririn continued. “It makes me wonder if Bulma could come up with something like it that uses chi...just for the fun of it, of course. We really don’t need it.”

Khri’s hand flew to her thigh and she growled when she found the clamp was empty. “Damn! I dropped my diacha when the Blue attacked me!” She shook her head and snarled, “At least nobody can hurt themselves with it. Of all the stupid things to leave behind...”

“Khri, I’ve got it.”

Goten stepped out from the shadows of the pavilion. Has he been standing there all this time? she wondered. She couldn’t remember seeing him nearby when she’d regained consciousness. His shirt was gone and his jeans were torn and covered with dirt and grass stains, most likely damage done while sparring. His eyes never left the marble tile as he slowly approached her. “I saw this on the ground near where you...you...” His voice quivered and hand clenched around her diacha, nails digging into his palm. “I knew you’d want this back.”

Khri silently accepted her weapon and snapped it back into the thigh clamp. The ragged edges of her mangled armor dug into her shoulder as she reached out and grasped the young man’s arm. “Goten. Please come with me.”

The late afternoon sky was starting to fill with clouds, casting shadows on the plains and mountains still visible far below. Gazing over the edge of the Lookout, Satan City and the destruction seemed to be nothing more than an unpleasant memory on such a beautiful day. Khri stood beside Goten and watched him sidelong with a critical eye. He’s not a soldier, but you’d never know it from his symptoms. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and shifted her stance, standing with feet apart and hands clasped behind her back. “Goten.”

His arms were folded tightly across his chest. He refused to look up. “I...I don’t want to talk about it.”

Khri let her voice soften to a level she hoped Piccolo couldn’t hear. “I just wanted to tell you I know how you’re feeling. Does it help to know I felt the same way once?”

Haunted brown eyes raised to meet hers. “You...you did?”

She nodded, watching the clouds bump into each other and merge. The spaces between them were growing smaller, their billows slowly crowding out the view of Earth. “It was many years ago. This might surprise you, but I wasn’t even part of the military when I fought my first battle.” She shrugged her left shoulder. “That’s where I got this.”

Goten gasped at the sight of her old scars framed by the gaping hole in her shoulder armor. “What...what happened?”

Khri lowered her voice even further. “I was very young. Pan’s size and age would be a good comparison.” She glanced down at the webwork of gold lines that had started itching. “My family was visiting Geddhi, one of our outer colonies, a beautiful world rich in tropical plants and flowers.” She closed her eyes, letting the memory of long lost perfumes tickle her nose. “One night the Telkarri invaded. They overran our compound and killed everyone on sight.” She stopped, swallowed, then cleared her throat. “One of the House Guard locked me in a reinforced room. It was built to withstand heavy bombardment in case of emergencies, so that was where I was hidden. I was the only child on the planet at the time, so I spent several hours alone in that dark room. What the Guard didn’t expect was the Telkarri tunneling under the grounds and up into the compound. A Green broke into the safe room and...well...you saw a repeat performance today of what happened then.”

Goten was shaking but he met her eyes. “How...how did you survive it then when you were so small? Did you have a healer like Dende nearby?”

I think you and I are both going to have nightmares tonight, Goten! “I was found very quickly and wasn’t stuck to anything else at the time. As soon as the House Guard had killed the Green they put me in cryo – suspended animation – and shipped me home via fast courier. I spent the next several months in a rehabilitation unit.” She smiled grimly. “I think I like Dende’s method better.”

The young man looked away again. “I can’t...can’t get that image of seeing you...like that...out of my mind...I thought you were dead.”

Ignoring the sharp edges of torn plating digging into her tricep, Khri gripped his arm and turned him to face her. “I thought so too, Goten, but you, Piccolo and Gohan kept that from happening. What you saw today will be part of your life’s memory, but you can go on. Don’t let it control you and don’t give it power it doesn’t have.” She relaxed her hold. “Today you saw what war looks like to those of us who can’t use chi the way you do. Its loud, smelly, messy and usually quite bloody. Earth and New Namek are the only known worlds lucky enough to have Dragonballs. On other planets when people die, they stay dead.”

Unshed tears were shimmering in his eyes when he finally looked up at her. It was the sign she was looking for, so she pressed on. “Goten, Earth is well protected thanks to people like you, your brother, your father, Piccolo, Dende, Trunks and even that ass, Vegeta. I can’t think of another world fortunate enough to have so many capable watchers.” She smiled gently. “The best advice I can give you is to keep training and make sure that if war does come to Earth, you’re ready for it.”

Goten sniffed, then wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “Thanks, Khri. I feel so dumb, acting like this...I...” He looked up, his expression brightening. “It’s Vegeta and Trunks! They’re headed this way!”

Khri nodded. “Good! I want to hear what the outcome was. Vegeta had better be damn sure he destroyed each and every Telkarri as well as their ships.”

Satisfied Goten would survive the shock, Khri walked back to where the others waited. Dende wasn’t there. She caught a glimpse of him before he disappeared inside the temple, hot on the heels of Mr. Popo. Everyone wore expressions of concern and curiosity except for Piccolo; he was staring at her with eyes that were narrowing by the second, eye ridges furrowed in a deep scowl. Before she could ask him if anything was wrong Vegeta’s shape blurred into view, followed less than a moment later by Trunks.

“Well? Did you clean out the city, and did you find Mom and Bulma?” Gohan asked.

Vegeta snorted and crossed his arms. His tight fitting armor bore no signs of having seen combat but Khri knew better. “Feh. The bugs were no challenge at all. Its up to the Royal Army to clean up the smears we left behind. As for the females, it didn’t take long to find them.” His face contorted into an angry snarl. “That foolish woman of mine was telling a fawning group of reporters how she commandeered a bus and drove all the passengers out of the city, dodging monsters, explosions and gangs of wild animals! Your mother,” he jabbed a finger at Gohan, “was giving a pathetic demonstration of how she fought off a raving bus passenger with a kitchen knife!”

“That sure sounds like them,” Kuririn grinned, “but why didn’t you bring them back here?”

Trunks rolled his eyes. “Mom was too busy mugging for the cameras. She’s always believed that any publicity is good publicity for Capsule Corporation. She said the military offered them both rides home after they’ve been de-briefed.” His eyes widened. “I almost forgot! Khri, there was a soldier that was being interviewed by the press. From what I overheard, it sounded like he talked to you but didn’t know who you were! He described that armor you’re wearing...” he gawked at her damaged shoulder, “...and told how you helped him and his men when they needed to retreat. Whoa, Khri, what happened to you?”

“Later, Trunks.” She searched for the man’s name. Captain Ertel. “He’s alive then? So he was able to successfully retreat after all.” Khri sighed and closed her eyes. “I’m glad. At least I know I was able to help those soldiers. That’s one less loss to the Telkarri.”

Khri’s eyes flew open and she drew in a sharp breath. “The Telkarri! How the hell did they get past the blockade?” Ignoring the curious stares around her, she opened a compartment of her battered utility belt and found the compact communications array she’d stowed there before leaving for the city. It was a less-powerful version of the bulky command set she wore while on duty, but from the Lookout’s high vantage point transmitting and receiving wouldn’t be a problem. She walked closer to the edge and adjusted the ear piece until it fit comfortably, then clicked the transmitter to the proper channel. “Battle Commander Khri to Aughenai. Respond please.”

Faint white noise filtered in through the receiver. Frowning, Khri removed the transmitting array, double-checked the setting and put it back on. “Aughenai, this is Khri. A response is requested immediately.”

“Khri, is everything all right?” Trunks asked quietly.

Khri tapped the ear piece. “I think something is wrong with this headset. I know I checked it this morning, and the compartment on my belt wasn’t damaged during the fight.” She listened again, changing the frequency by tiny increments. “All I’m getting is background hiss and no response from the Aughenai – my flagship – on any of the channels.” She looked up into the deepening blue of the sky above. Clouds now completely cloaked the Earth below and there was a faint hint of moisture in the air. “When I widen the reception I should be able to pick up general chatter, but there’s nothing.” Her fingers started to tremble and she ripped off the array. Dark clouds were starting to form in the back of her mind but she was determined to ignore them. “There’s got to be something wrong with this headset.”

“Do you want me to take a look?” Trunks held out a hand. “I probably can’t do anything without taking it apart, but if you want an opinion...”

“Yes, please. Delicate equipment repair isn’t one of my specialties.” She didn’t bother to fold it before handing it over. “Maybe its something obvious...?”

Trunks turned the array over and over. “I looks all right...I don’t see anything that’s loose or broken.” He peered at the earpiece, then tugged on one of the antennae. “When the communicator you gave Piccolo was damaged, it was easy to see why it wasn’t working. The whole side was crushed.”

Keeping her face neutral, Khri looked over at Piccolo and immediately wished she hadn’t. His scowl had darkened to the point where a sympathetic rumble of thunder wouldn’t have been a surprise. “Is that what happened?”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Trunks whispered, trying hard not to glance at the seething figure hovering a short distance from the group. “He’d taken special care to make sure it didn’t get broken, but sparring got out of hand and...well...it got smashed. We didn’t find out about it until just after Pan showed up.”

“Thank you for trying, Trunks.” Khri sighed. She knew Trunks had a lot of questions – like why she had given Piccolo such a thing and why he’d be willing to put up with it – but the story wasn’t hers to tell. He didn’t come because he didn’t get the signal, she told herself. She frowned when she realized she had been feelings hurt and a little betrayed by his failure to show up. He would have come if he had known! I’m being foolish for doubting him. Taking the array back from an apologetic Trunks she put it on, hoping beyond hope the thing would spontaneously volunteer to start functioning again. Keeping the volume down to a minium, she looked over at Piccolo. He was still fuming and the left no doubt as to the source of his anger. “Please excuse me, Trunks,” she said softly, then slid her emotionless command mask in place.

Khri had walked directly into Piccolo’s fighting stance once before without flinching. His surprise had worked to her benefit at the time, but she doubted it would work twice. “Would you like to tell me why you’re so angry with me, or would you prefer to take this someplace else?” she asked calmly.

Fists clenched and jaw set, Piccolo’s expression was nothing but barely restrained wrath. She had always felt he looked more formidable in his weighted cloak and turban, but his lowered antennae and bloodstained, battered gi had an intimidation factor all their own. The last time those same black eyes had focused their rage on her he’d been less than a meter tall, dangling by the scruff of his neck at the end of her outstretched arm. Khri blinked as the vivid image of Junior superimposed itself over Piccolo for a split second, then shattered when he roared in fury.

“Just what the hell were you thinking?!” Piccolo’s fangs gleamed and corded muscle raised along his neck. “What the hell were you trying to prove, going off to fight alone? You knew we’d come! You knew we’d put a stop to it but you went off on your own anyway!”

Khri’s jaw locked tight and she stood straighter. In spite of his verbal assault she refused to flinch or back away; the fact that everyone else was now watching the show gave her extra incentive to hold her ground. It had been years since anyone had dared upbraid her in such a public and insulting manner. When was the last time someone had the authority to question me like this? Belligerent superior officers were a thing of her distant past. Piccolo had the belligerent part down but he didn’t qualify as a superior anything. She took a long, measured breath, her only defense against the building heat in her face and the roar of blood in her ears.

Her lack of response seemed to add fuel to Piccolo’s rage. “Just what the hell did you think you could do by yourself, save the city? Of all the stupid, irresponsible, idiotic things to do! Goten and Trunks would have had better sense...”

A right hand still in an armored gauntlet shot out and grabbed Piccolo’s shirtfront. The fabric was tough enough to withstand the hard jerk that nearly pulled him off his feet, shocking him into silence and forcing him to take a step forward. Aware her eyes were glowing so fiercely her irises were lost in the fire, Khri kept pulling him down until his face hovered inches from hers.

“Do you think my rank as Battle Commander is honorary?” Her growl was low and cold, a tone she’d only used a handful of times in her life. The hand not gripping his gi slowly clenched into a tight fist before his eyes. “My hands were stained with the blood of thousands before you were even hatched. I’ve seen more combat than the most seasoned soldier on this planet, and that includes Vegeta. I’ve led troops into fights I knew we couldn’t win and left parts of myself behind when they died.” Fists tightening and fangs bared she asked, “Do you really think you’re qualified to judge me or question me when it comes to war?”

Khri felt the last shreds of her blackfire shield dissolve. It was impossible to maintain even light control when her emotions were so wild. “You were too late to help to that captain and his men, but little deaths usually don’t matter to great, noble fighters like yourself who consider them beneath...”

“Youngest, while I’m glad to see you’re making such a lasting impression on the Namek, I’m afraid I need to interrupt.”

Khri’s words froze in her throat. That voice, so dear and so rarely heard, brought her tirade to a grinding halt and immobilized her trembling arms and legs. Her indignation and anger fell away, taking the fire from her eyes and allowing her natural shield to reform. She found the nerves that operated her fingers and freed Piccolo’s abused gi from her clutches, then slowly turned towards the source of the voice.

Standing between a very wan Dende and a shaken Mr. Popo stood a tall man or, more correctly, the image of a tall man. The projection hovered over a flat plate that had been placed on the floor which she recognized as part of the equipment she’d been ordered to give Dende. A thick beard framed his darkly tanned face, making his amber eyes glow more brightly in contrast. When did his hair turn silver at the temples, Khri wondered as she took a wavering step towards the projection. He wore his formal House livery, complete with a long cloak that stirred in an unfelt breeze. The warm smile was the same one she’d seen during her last trip Home, just before her security detail had closed the hatch of the shuttle that would ferry her back to the Aughenai.

“Who...who’s that?” Somebody whispered.

Khri managed to steady her trembling legs and walked gracefully forward. She dropped to one knee in a deep bow, head lowered. “Eldest, Youngest is at your service.”

To Be Continued...

“Elhoi ei Sengrahni” - Eldest and Youngest