Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Errant Exile ❯ A Father's Fate ( Chapter 20 )

“Errant Exile”

Chapter 19: “A Father’s Fate”

The long weeks Piccolo spent watching Khri had shown him a wide range of her emotions. On the surface she was calm, quiet and serious. Every once in a while she’d flash him a smile, wrinkle her nose in confusion or frown in worry. He had never heard her really laugh or raise her voice in anger.

At least until today.

He found himself staring down in shock at the female he was starting to think of as a friend. Khri’s eyes burned fiercely in the full daylight, her pupils lost in the glow and her fangs bared in fury. He was nearly jerked off his feet when she’d grabbed his shirtfront. It had been easy to forget how strong she actually was; he remembered how she had ripped the door off a truck and kicked it under the chassis as if it were made of tissue paper. She’s definitely not like Bulma or ChiChi!.

“You were too late to help to that captain and his men,” Khri growled, tightening her grip on his gi. In that second Piccolo realized something was missing and nearly gasped. Her shielding is down! It falls when she loses her temper! I wonder If can sense her now...? Unaware he wasn’t paying attention to what she had to say, Khri continued, “...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.”

The quiet, amused voice of a stranger broke Piccolo’s concentration and silenced Khri. The light in her eyes vanished as she released his gi, the color draining from her face. They both turned to see who had caused the interruption.

The resemblance was unmistakable. Here was the source of Khri’s amber eyes, her yellow hair and her fine-boned features. Piccolo could only guess at the tall man’s age but there were faint lines framing his eyes and his smile. Silver streaked the hair at his temples and shone through his thick beard and a faint breeze stirred his long grey cloak. His skin was several shades darker than Khri’s, and Piccolo wondered if her skin would be just as dark on her home planet.

“Who...who’s that?” Kuririn whispered loudly, voicing the question everyone wanted answered.

Piccolo turned just in time to catch a glimpse of Khri’s pale face before she stepped around him. Her gait wobbled just a bit before resuming its normal grace as she walked up to the projection, then lowered herself on one knee. “Eldest, Youngest is at your service,” she said quietly, bowing her head.

The older man’s smile broadened. “You can drop the formalities, Khri. They’re totally unnecessary and we don’t have time to waste.” He looked over at Vegeta, Trunks, Goten and Kuririn as they stepped closer to the metal projector plate over which his image hovered. Piccolo recognized it as part of the equipment Khri had delivered to the Lookout for Dende many weeks ago. “I’m afraid I can’t spare the time for long introductions,” he said with a cordial nod, “but I believe I owe Prince Vegeta a personal greeting.”

Arms folded defiantly, Vegeta ignored the collective gasp and inclined his head with the barest hint of respect. “Leonid’s Eldest. Only two others in the Triumvirate have your rank; the Tigradi Eldest and the Heroni Eldest.”

The older man bowed from the shoulders up. “I see you know a bit about our section of space. However, since there’s nothing we can say to each other that would carry any meaning beyond today, I must continue on to other matters.” He turned back to Khri and noticed her mangled shoulder. His eyes narrowed slightly and his grin was no less subtle. “I’m glad to see that the House Guard armor served you well, Youngest.” His eyes looked up to meet Piccolo’s, all signs of humor gone. “I’m also glad to see my instincts were correct about those watching over my daughter.”

There were several gasps, but Vegeta’s mouth quirked into a knowing smirk. “Daughter?” Kuririn, Gohan, Goten and Trunks all asked in unison.

Eldest smiled openly. “Khri is my youngest child. She’s also my greatest source of pride. She may be my Youngest, but none of my other children have reached so high and accomplished nearly as much as she has.”

Piccolo stole a glance back at Khri. He knew her well enough to recognize her discomfort at the open praise. She took a step closer to the projection and tapped the receiving device covering her left ear. “Father, I have so many questions but most importantly, I...I can’t raise the Aughenai.” Her tone reminded him of a frightened child confessing an irrational fear to an adult. “All I’m receiving is white noise on the open and private channels. It could be a problem with my headset, but...I don’t think it is.” Khri’s arms fell to her sides, her fists clenched. ”Eldest...Father...how were the Telkarri able to get through the blockade and reach Earth? The Aughenai and the fleet must have been distracted to allow such a thing to happen. I need answers! I’m useless here on the ground!”

“Useless?” Eldest raised one eyebrow. “Daughter, you’re anything but useless. From what Earth’s Guardian has told me, you’ve acted in a manner that saved many lives today, both directly and indirectly.”

Khri stiffened. “Did you know this would happen? Is that why you sent me to Earth, and then sent the House Guard armor? Because you suspected the Telkarri were about to breach the blockade?”

“That’s a good guess, Youngest, but that wasn’t my primary reason for sending you into exile.” Piccolo recognized the lines etched into his face; he’d seen lesser ones on both Goku and Vegeta whenever they felt their families were in danger. “I suspected treachery from other sources, which you’ve already encountered. I never had any indication the Telkarri would make it down to Earth’s surface. In spite of what has happened and as harsh as the exile was at the time, I have no regrets in sending you to Earth.”

Piccolo’s ear twitched and heard Dende hold his breath. Khri is going to get her answers, and I don’t think she’s going to like any of them. He watched as she swallowed hard and struggled to put strength behind her voice. “Eldest? I...I still don’t understand...”

Khri’s father’s smile turned grim and he looked pointedly at Piccolo. “Do you see? My Youngest’s greatest strength – her selflessness – can blind her to obvious truths or cause her to miss them entirely.” He turned back to face his daughter. “Clever Youngest, haven’t you seen it yet? I sent you to Earth to protect you.”

Genuinely confused, Khri shook her head. “Protect me from what? I know about the assassination attempt on Commander Ahtai, and the Tigradi have made at least two attempts to kill me! I was just as safe on the Aughenai!”

Her father’s face suddenly seemed to age, as if time had spun forward decades in the span of seconds. His broad shoulders drooped and his face paled, giving his tanned skin a sallow appearance. “Khri...the Aughenai is gone.”

Piccolo ignored the horrified gasps and his own shock when he felt Khri’s shielding collapse. Ah, damn...its worse than I thought.

Khri stood motionless, fists clenching and unclenching, each breath a struggle. “Wh...what?”

Eldest turned to include everyone in the conversation. “The Aughenai was the flagship of the Leonid fleet. She was the Tigradi’s main target, one they never could have destroyed if it hadn’t been for the mercenaries. Once she’d been taken out of commission, the rest of the fleet didn’t stand a chance under the onslaught of both the Tigradi and the mercs.” His expression hardened and his eyes flared as he focused on Vegeta. “When Freeza and his father were killed, the Cold Empire quickly fell apart. Most worlds celebrated their newfound freedom and began to rebuild, but some were overrun with lesser warlords and the leftovers of King Cold’s armies. They now march at the orders of the highest bidder when they’re not squabbling like carrion birds over the remnants of the Cold Empire.”

Trunks took a trembling step forward. He’d gone nearly as pale as Khri and his eyes were wide. “I...I had to kill Freeza and his father, Sir! They were going to kill everyone on Earth...I had to stop them!”

Piccolo felt a twinge of sympathy for the young man. Technically he hadn’t been the one that chopped Freeza into bits and disemboweled King Cold; that feat belonged to a Trunks of a different age. The whole time travel incident had been resolved long ago, but Trunks continued to bear the burden of deeds that weren’t his when others relived memories he didn’t share. Poor kid, Piccolo muttered to himself, this is another mess that isn’t really his.

The glow faded from Eldest’s eyes. “An explanation isn’t needed, Son,” he said gently. “You did what was necessary to protect your homeworld. It was only a matter of time before Cold and his offspring turned their attention towards our sector, and our ability to use blackfire is nothing compared to their chi. Which is better, death or slavery with no hope of freedom?” He let out a long sigh. “In the long run I believe the mercenaries will annihilate themselves. I can only hope the planets they’ve pillaged can outlive their savagery since we won’t be there to help them any more.”

The image suddenly flickered, then rocked as it resolved itself. Eldest looked upward and a small shower of debris pattered against his arm. He casually brushed it off but his expression tensed. “Youngest, do you remember your last visit Home? It was the afternoon we spent in the Winter Garden. The flame flowers were ready to bloom but the Aughenai couldn’t spare you the time to wait for them.”

Khri swallowed. When she spoke her voice was low and sad. “Yes. I remember.”

“Your older siblings had counseled you before our meeting to ‘humor the old man.’ Yes, I’m more than aware of what Phelhai and Sirdhai whispered in your ear that morning.”

“I took their petty comments for what they were worth,” Khri growled. “Nothing.”

Eldest nodded sagely. “I had warned them all this day was coming. In spite of all the evidence, independent rumors and the reports from our spies, they refused to believe me. You, however skeptical you were, listened with an open mind. The questions you asked me over the years told me you thought about it often, and I’m sorry there were so many I couldn’t answer. I need to explain, Daughter...that day we talked about is here.”

Piccolo watched as the air around Khri seemed to grow cold. Even through her armor he could see she was trembling and her face lost what little color remained in her cheeks. “Oh no...oh no, don’t say it, please don’t...” she rasped.

Khri’s father drew himself up to his full height and squared his shoulders. “From this moment on you are Youngest no longer. As Leonid Eldest, I give you the name of Dorhanhai. You are to conduct yourself in accordance with that title and carry out the final orders I’m about to give you.”

Dorhanhai? What does that mean? As for those ‘final orders’... Piccolo felt time slow as Khri snapped to attention. He guessed that years of practice had made it instinctive, overriding the shock she couldn’t hide. One hell of a blow is coming straight at her and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

The projection swayed and flickered again as if someone had bumped the camera on Eldest’s end of the transmission. The image steadied but the formerly crisp edges now appeared grainy and blurred. Eldest himself was struggling to stay on his feet, his cloak covered in a fine white powder. When he was able to speak again his voice was even more resolute. “Dorhanhai, you are to remain safely on Earth. You are to help protect it just as you would your homeworld.”

“Protect it?” Khri’s voice was still polite but Piccolo could hear a trickle of outrage and anger. “I should have been aboard the Aughenai, fighting to protect her and the fleet!”

“Then you would be dead too, Youngest, just like everyone else, including Sai.” Eldest ignored Khri’s flinch of pain. “I’m sorry, Khri, but I’m going to do my best to keep you alive and that means making sure you stay on Earth. You might not be as powerful as the chi-using fighters, but you have unique skills the planet may need in the future. Now give me your word.”

“I...I swear.”

Vegeta shouldered his way between a gaping Trunks and Goten. “Does that mean we should be expecting visitors?”

Eldest scowled faintly. “After today there shouldn’t be any Tigradi left to worry about. The Telkarri were eradicated a few days ago. Most of Freeza’s former employees know he was killed on Earth and are less than eager to share his fate, so I doubt you’ll be confronted with anything that would threaten the entire planet. I cannot give guarantees it won’t happen.”

Vegeta stared at him thoughtfully, then nodded. “Fine.” His dark eyes sparkled and he sneered, right hand curling into a fist. “Although I wouldn’t mind settling a few scores with some of my old mates, if they ever drop in.”

Eldest nodded graciously, then turned back to his daughter. “The second oath is that you will never use the Dragonballs for your own benefit.” He glanced down at Dende, who had been watching with an unmistakable sadness. “Earth’s Guardian has kindly given me the details of how the Dragon is summoned here and the limits to his wishes. The temptation to use them to resurrect our Clan will be great, Khri, but I want your word that you’ll never attempt it. I know its hard to understand it now, but you will in time. I want your word, as former Youngest and Dorhanhai and as my daughter, that you won’t try to summon Shen Long.”

Piccolo’s own fists clenched as a bit more of Khri’s dwindling resolve drained away. “I promise,” she whispered.

“There is just one left.” Eldest’s brief laugh was bitter. “Knowing you as I do, this one will be the most difficult.” The image shook again and he disappeared briefly, leaning out of frame to hold onto something. Even with the picture distortion Piccolo could see chunks of what looked like plaster rain down. When the projection stabilized, the older man didn’t bother to brush himself off again. “I apologize. The detonations are getting closer to our compound, which means the surviving Tigradi are getting ready to deploy chem bombs.” The expression on his face when he looked at Khri was not one of a commander to a subordinate, but a father to his loved child. “Khri, there will come a time when you have a chance for happiness. I want you to take it!”

Khri’s nod was wooden. “I...I will. I promise.”

The projection shook again as Eldest closed his eyes briefly and seemed to relax. “I know how seriously you take your oaths, Khri. You’ve never broken your word and I trust you’ll keep it now.” His gaze suddenly moved away, as if something in the distance caught his eye. “I’ve sent the encrypted pass codes that have unlocked most of the archives in your computer. You’ll find they’re mostly historical and scientific in nature, but there are areas that work intuitively. When you begin to ask the right questions, it will give you the answers.”

Piccolo felt a surge of irritation on Khri’s behalf. She’d spent hours with the machine, poking and prodding it for information, only to find the files she wanted couldn’t be opened. After the first day of tinkering she’d marched out of the room, jaw set and eyes blazing, and nearly tore in half the bottle of water she’d grabbed from the refrigerator. Fortunately, Goten and Trunks were willing to spar in the cool evening hours on those days, even if they were less than enthusiastic about it.

A loud roar came from the speaker on the projection plate and the man vanished in a shower of static. When the image flickered back the quality was even worse then before. Eldest resembled a statue left outside for too many centuries. “...Time is nearly over. The transmitter won’t survive the next hit.”

“Why are you still Home?” Khri closed the few steps between herself and the image. “Why haven’t you evacuated? You’ve got to have a contingency plan!”

“...Fleeing ships have been destroyed...mercenaries have fortified the Tigradi blockade...no place to flee.” Another cascade of debris tumbled behind Eldest, adding another layer of dust to his hair and clothes. “Khri, I must say goodbye.”

“No!” Khri held up one hand, reaching for the projection and catching empty air. “Please! There must be another way, a way to escape, please don’t leave me alone here...”

“Khri, you are my contingency plan.” His eyes, still piercing through all the static, passed from fighter to fighter until they focused on Piccolo. “You have made friends – both old and new ones – and you won’t be alone.” His voice never wavered as he turned and smiled sadly at his daughter. “As a race we Leonids are passing, but we’re going to take both the Tigradi and the Telkarri with us. You are our legacy, Khri. And I know you will make us proud, because you already have.” His smile widened and he raised his hand, his ethereal fingers reaching for Khri’s. Her armored fingertips passed through his without a ripple. “Goodbye, most favorite and loved daughter. I shall miss you.”

“Father, wait...”

Eldest smiled proudly one last time, then his image filled with white static and disappeared.

A heavy silence fell across the Lookout. A slight breeze had picked up, rustling Dende’s long robes and hissing through the palms. No one wanted to be the first to speak, the first to urge time forward again, away from the terrible confession still ringing in their ears and through their thoughts.

Khri herself was the first to move. She pulled her hand back and let it fall to her side, then slowly turned away. She showed no sign of grief, anger or any other emotion, and Piccolo didn’t need to resort to rifling through Kami’s memories for a cause. She’s in shock. Damn...I knew this would be bad, but its so much worse than I expected. His eyes followed her as she walked to the distant edge of the platform and looked down.

“Oh...Dende,” Kuririn breathed, “you don’t think she’ll try to throw herself off...?”

“I...I don’t think so.” Dende didn’t look up from the floor.

“She knows better.” Piccolo ignored the curious glances, knowing he was revealing hints he knew Khri better than they’d been led to assume. “I don’t think she’s the suicidal type.”

Trunks shook his head. “I hope you’re right, Piccolo. To lose your family, your friends, everything you’ve known...”

“She’ll survive it.”

The last person Piccolo expected to say anything was Vegeta. He was staring at Khri’s back, his dark brows furrowed in their usual scowl, but Piccolo couldn’t feel the rise in chi that always coiled around Vegeta when he was angry. “Having your homeworld destroyed, your family murdered...she’ll survive those. But I got a chance to fight Freeza.” It was then his chi began to build, rising to a nearly visible level as his fists clenched. “I failed and that idiot Kakarrot picked up where I left off, but at least I got to fight that bastard. I got my chance for revenge. Her father denied her that!”

Still watching Khri in case he needed to make an emergency dive over the platform, Piccolo folded his arms. “Don’t forget, Vegeta, you died at the hands of Freeza. If it weren’t for Dende and Porunga you’d still be dead.”

“So would you, Namek!” Vegeta snarled. “Did you forget you fought Freeza yourself and wanted revenge for Old Namek, or is that too inconvenient for you to remember right now?”

“Stop this arguing! Both of you!” A loud whack echoed across the Lookout as Dende thumped his staff on the tile. Piccolo and Vegeta both startled at his snap; seeing mild-mannered Dende angry was a rarity. “Khri is more than welcome to stay here as long as she wants. Mr. Popo and I will watch out for her.” The dark-skinned man at his side nodded in agreement.

Piccolo frowned. “You knew this was going to happen.”

“Yes and no.” Dende’s antennae wilted as his anger ebbed away. “The Leonid Eldest contacted me a few weeks ago. He warned me there would be hard times ahead for Khri, and asked me to do what I could to help her. I agreed, of course.”

“I feel so bad for her,” Kuririn said, dragging his eyes from Khri to stare up at Piccolo. “I don’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry’ sounds so...stupid.”

“I don’t think there’s anything we can say.” Gohan sighed softly, shaking his head. “I doubt there’s a sympathy card that says ‘sorry your family’s dead and your world has been destroyed.’ Maybe all we can do is be there if and when she’s ready to talk.”

Vegeta snorted. “She doesn’t need to talk. She needs to pound the shit out of somebody.”

Piccolo heard the sound of Khri’s heavy boots on the marble and saw her take a step closer to the edge. He concentrated on feeling for the void where her shielding should be but couldn’t find it. Chi would make it so much easier to keep track of you, but you don’t have it and complaining about it won’t help you...

Goten’s quiet question was one Piccolo had been meaning to ask. “Dende, what was that word her father called her...dor-something. Do you know what it means?”

“Yes. Dorhanhai is an ancient Leonid term meaning ‘first, last and only.’ It’s a description and a title, and there are implications to it that go beyond the meaning of the individual words.” Dende’s eyes welled with tears as he watched the motionless figure in the distance. “Khri is supposed to consider herself to be the last of her race. While its very possible that some Leonids will survive, she’s not supposed to go looking for them. There are other things too, but I didn’t have time to research the language archives.”

“How do you know all this?” Trunks asked.

“Her father used the term dorhanhai once, and said that Khri would honor it. He didn’t have time to explain what it meant so I had to look it up.” Dende caught Piccolo’s eye. ‘I did think it was strange that dorhanhai was in the archives and not Eudori.’

‘We can talk about that later,’ Piccolo thought back. “There’s nothing more you can do here,” Piccolo said out loud. “You should all go home and let everyone know what happened. It would be helpful if some of you watched the television to see how the attack on Satan City was reported. If an idiot with a camera got lucky, it might make things hard for Khri later.”

Gohan nodded. “Good point. I need to check on Videl and Pan, too...I’d also like to know if there’s anything left of the University.”

“I’m sure Eighteen and Master Roshi will fill me in,” Kuririn said. “But I’ll make sure I watch the news tonight. Let me know if there’s anything we can do,” he added before saying his goodbyes and launching himself into the air.

Vegeta was already hovering but Trunks had nudged closer to Dende. “When she’s ready...tell Khri if she needs help with any equipment or wants her armor repaired that I want to help. I know Mom will too,” he said quietly. He waved and shot into the sky, trailing far behind Vegeta’s distant spark.

“Piccolo, please let us know if there’s anything we can do, any way we can help,” Goten said softly. “I can’t imagine what its like to lose everything like that...”

“There’s nothing any of us can do.” Piccolo sighed and glanced back at Khri. She remained frozen in place and showed no signs of moving any time soon. “Go home. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Gohan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he said goodbye. “C’mon, Goten. You can borrow one of my shirts before you go home so Mom doesn’t jump to the wrong conclusions. See you later, guys.” He stared sharply at Piccolo. ‘I mean it, if you need anything or just want to talk...’

‘I know where to find you. Thanks, Gohan,’ he sent back.

Piccolo stared into the darkening blue of the early evening sky as the two brothers vanished. The wind was dying down and the first stars winked through the light scattering of clouds. The Lookout perched over the opposite side of the continent from Satan City and the air was sweet and clean, but he could smell smoke and the traces of acid fumes clinging to his blood-soaked gi. It took less than a second to exchange his ratty clothes for a fresh set, complete with his cloak and turban. The day had started peacefully and was about to end the same way but the hours between the two had been nothing short of a nightmare. Fading sunlight danced across Khri’s armored back and sparked against the ripped edges that had once folded over her shoulder. Her armor isn’t the only thing that might be damaged beyond repair, he admitted to himself through a growing sense of worry.

Dende came forward to stand beside him. “Piccolo...I know there’s more to your friendship with Khri than what you’ve told me. I’m not going to pry, but I hope you’ll tell me about it when you’re ready.” He felt the younger Namek studying him but he kept his expression stony. “Mr. Popo and I will be inside the Temple if you need anything.” He turned to go, then paused. “I’m sorry, Piccolo. I’m sorry for Khri. There wasn’t a thing I could do.”

“You’re Guardian of Earth, Dende. You can’t be responsible for what happens in the rest of the universe.”

He waited until he could no longer hear Dende’s retreating footsteps before he slowly walked towards Khri. He took extra care not to startle her by moving in from the side, hands raised as if he approached a wounded animal. “Khri. Everyone has gone. Dende and Mr. Popo are inside and can’t see you.” He spoke in the soft voice he’d used years ago with Gohan whenever bad dreams woke the boy. “You’ve always respected my pride. Now let me show you the same respect. Whatever you do will never be revealed to anyone, including Gohan. I promise.”

Seconds stretched into minutes that felt like hours but Piccolo was patient. Her pride, the only thing left to her, had kept her from an embarrassing collapse in front of the others. He knew she couldn’t sustain it much longer. How much does she trust me? Is it enough for her to let go? Piccolo’s patience paid off. Khri began to tremble and her breathing grew ragged. He held his breath and waited just a few feet away, ready to move in case she took the last long step forward. Khri...you know better, you know I won’t let you fall even if you want to...

Shaking like a palm in a hurricane, Khri stepped backward and her knees buckled. She clattered to the tile, doubled over and hugged herself tightly as she struggled to breathe. “No,” came her strangled whisper. “No!”

Piccolo knelt in front of her and reached for her shoulder, then pulled back. Frustration and anger began to feed into his chi as he stared at the stars in fury. Damn you, Sai! And damn your Eldest, too! Do you realize what you’ve done to her? Your stupid ideas of ‘protecting’ her may have destroyed her! You didn’t even give her the chance to die a warrior’s death! He ignored the strange twinge deep in his chest at the thought and gently gripped her upper arm. “Khri. You deserved the chance to fight for your people and it was stolen from you. Now prove they were wrong to treat you like a coward! Decide to live!”

Khri’s hands gripped the loose fabric draping his knees. He realized she could feel almost nothing through her gloves and he didn’t have a clue how to remove them. She leaned forward and buried her face in his lap, pressing her forehead into his leg. “No, no, no,” she repeated over and over, her voice never rising above a hoarse gasp.

“Yes.” His free hand rested lightly on the back of her head, feeling the softness of her messy braid. “It takes strength to go on living, more strength than dying. And I’m going to see that you do.”

Khri continued to shake uncontrollably but no tears soaked into his clothes and it worried him. The tears cane come later I suppose, if she needs them, along with other small battles she’ll have to fight. He awkwardly stroked her hair, reminding himself he had once done the same for Gohan for much smaller hurts. Her father wasn’t her only loss...she’s lost everything.

‘Piccolo?’ The uncertainty in Dende’s voice made him sound years younger. ‘I don’t mean to bother you, but I felt your chi spike. Is everything all right?’

‘No, Dende. Nothing is all right, but Khri will survive this.’ He covered one of Khri’s armored fists with his hand. I’ll make sure of it.

To Be Continued...