Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Errant Exile ❯ Deal with a Devil ( Chapter 25 )

From Chapter 23:

“Think of it!” the Ohlindi hissed, weaving notes of longing and desire into his speech. “A share of thirty ssseven million creditsss and a planet of your own to rule!” Humility added a third note. “Traeger is most generousss. He hasss no wishesss to rule the entire galaxy, merely a sssmall corner of it.” The fourth note was the tease. “He alssso has accesss to great knowledge. He hasss heard rumorsss of other Sssaiyans who survived Lord Freesssa . . . he would be mossst willing to asssist you in locating them.” It paused, letting the sweet notes twist together into one powerful chord. “All of it, in exchange for a Leonid. What do you sssay, King Vegeta?”    

Chapter 24: Deal with a Devil

Khri pressed her shoulders against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. Her sunglasses, tucked in a pocket of her jacket, only worked outside and wouldn’t hide the heated glow of her eyes in the dim hallway. She kept her breathing shallow and strained to catch the Saiyan’s reply.

“That’s quite an offer,” Vegeta said in a voice of frost and oil. “All that, just for a weak female? What proof do you have that this upstart Traeger can keep his part of the bargain?”

Heavy fabric rustled. “I have thisss.” There was the soft click of a latch and faint creak of a hinged lid being lifted. “Do you recognissse it?”

“Of course I do!” There was no mistaking the disgust in Vegeta’s growl. “It’s the Fifth Eye of Adan. Freeza took heavy losses in both ships and soldiers in the battle for that gem. The last time I saw it, it was in a salon on Planet Deek, being used as a doorstop.”

Khri barely kept her eyes from flying open in shock. The Fifth Eye of Adan? I . . . I knew the price was high, but this . . . ! If Traeger controls the vaults on Deek and is flooding the market with treasure, then the value of the Eye could be far less than what it used to be. But does Vegeta know that? She clenched her jaw and leaned closer.

“Thisss is only the ssstart of what he hasss to offer,” the Ohlindi asserted. “Traeger alwaysss deliversss on his promisssesss. It is how he differsss from Freesssa . . . he rewardsss sssuccesss well.”

The snap of a lid shutting echoed down the hall. “Oh? And how does he treat those who fail?”

The Ohlindi drew in a sharp breath. “F . . . failure? I would not know! I have never failed Lord Traeger! I . . . I am his willing ssservant!” Some of the honey in his shaking voice had trickled out.

Is that what he’s calling himself these days, ‘Lord’ Traeger? Khri bared her fangs, digging her fingers into the wall at her back. Traitor, deceiver . . . his titles are more damningly true than mine!

“I’m sure you are,” came the sneering response. “After all, you’ve done your master’s bidding. You’ve promised me everything an ignorant bystander thinks I could ever want.”

“Lord Traeger wishesss me to assure you if there’sss anything he’sss forgotten, anything elssse you desire, he promisssesss that you shall have it.” A note of sweetness swirled into the Ohlindi’s offer. “If thisss world pleasssesss you, Lord Traeger saysss it is yoursss, no questionsss asssked, to be added to your richesss. Fine winesss, luxuriesss, and the most beautiful slavesss could be brought here for your pleasssure . . . “

“Except for the female Leonid, of course?”

Khri stepped away from the wall and opened her eyes. Cold fury, refusing to be overruled by logics’ demands to be cautious, propelled her into the doorway.

Fluorescent lights buzzed softly in a large storage room. Discarded boxes had been piled against the far left wall but some lay strewn across the floor on a carpet of paper napkins. Brushed steel refrigerator doors lined the back of the store room, their compressors emitting a steady hum.

Standing in the center and leaning casually against a chest freezer waited Vegeta, his white gloves and boots gleaming in stark contrast with his dark body suit. Arms folded, he threw her an unpleasant grin over the head of a misshapen creature slouched in front of him. “I was wondering when you’d decide to join us, Leonid.”

The Ohlindi let out a high-pitched hiss and spun around. Glassy eyes spun in terror beneath a floppy hat. Its forked tongue flicked in and out as it took two steps backward. The long coat it used as a disguise tangled around its thick legs, slowing its retreat. “Nooo! Get away!” Its blunt snout swiveled towards Vegeta, clawed three-fingered hands held out in appeal . “Pleassse . . . Your Highnesss, don’t let her touch me! Ssstop her, I beg you!”

Vegeta calmly moved aside and leaned against a refrigerator door, a small box in one hand. “Begging?” He cocked his head at the Ohlindi and folded his arms. “Out of things to barter with already?”

Khri stared down at the whimpering Ohlindi. It wheezed, its scramble backward slowed by empty boxes and torn cardboard. She ducked her head politely at Vegeta without looking away. “Your Highness, are you finished with this?”

“Find out what you need to and then kill it. I want to watch but I don’t have all day.”

“Nooooo!” squealed the Ohlindi. “Massster . . . pleassse . . . help me!”

Khri finally spared a glance at Vegeta. “My business with the Ohlindi is none of your concern, Your Highness.”

“But it is.” His indolent pose didn’t alter but there was a hard edge to his tone. “This creature is on Earth, which is my territory. Your business is my business, Leonid, whether you like it or not.”

Who knew rudeness, pride and arrogance could co-exist in such a small package? Khri shrugged off the insult; he did, after all, have a point. If Traeger had managed to crack Freeza’s most prized vault, then he had the finances to buy all the power he wanted. And he wants Vegeta’s muscle. What other bribes had the Ohlindi offered before she’d started eavesdropping? She’d heard no acceptance, but . . . perhaps I’d better make sure there’s no way he can accept. At least not today.

Khri lunged forward. Her left hand dug into the Ohlindi’s thick neck, burrowing into its scales. She slammed it back against the freezer doors, pinning it high so its eyes were level with her own. Its sleek skin was cold and moist, its green tongue flicking wildly as it clawed at her wrist, drawing blood. “Re . . . releassse me, I beg you! I . . . I’ll say you weren’t here, I ssswear . . . “

“Where is Traeger?” she asked softly.

“I . . . I don’t know!” The next words were so garbled in its struggle to speak that Khri relaxed her fingers. It took a gulp of air, renewed its fight and was rewarded with an even tighter grip on its windpipe than before. “Traeger is . . . on Deek, waiting to hear . . . from Vegeta . . . “

Khri’s fingers flexed, her voice a calm whisper. “Last chance. Where is Traeger?”

The room echoed with Vegeta’s soft laugh. “Your questioning techniques are pathetic, Leonid. Kill it and be done. You’re wasting my time.”

Khri allowed the creature a few desperate breaths, turning her glowing, slitted eyes on Vegeta. “Your Highness, are you familiar with the Ohlindi race? Do you know why they’re such a unique species?”

“They’re filth. Freeza found them useful, but he knew of their deceitful nature and never trusted them. We Saiyans never had to resort to such base, repugnant creatures.”

Khri raised one thin brow. “They may be deceitful, but they have a physical trait that sets them apart from other species.” Her right hand reached underneath the Ohlindi’s baggy coat and grasped its side. “They have four hearts.”

The Ohlindi squirmed frantically. “No! No!” It suddenly stiffened, then howled in agony.

Moisture on the creature’s skin glistened in Khri’s eye light. “If one heart is destroyed the other three can take up the slack, which is most fortunate since they can’t regenerate their organs.” The Ohlindi had wilted, its breath coming in shallow pants. She turned her attention from the lump of flesh that had been its lowest heart and rested her hand over the one above it. “However, if a second heart is badly damaged or destroyed . . . “

“He’sss on the Limita!” The Ohlindi rasped. “Outssside . . . thisss system, on the other ssside . . . of the ssstar . . .”

Khri could feel the heart race beneath skin and clothing. “At the time you left the Limita, who was the highest bidder?”

“The . . . The Mhedwa!”

She didn’t move or relax her grip, hiding any sign of surprise. The Mhedwa actually bore her a legitimate grudge. Their home world, ravaged by an incurable virus, had been quarantined to keep it from spreading to nearby systems. The Aughenai had enforced a blockade that kept their ships grounded, but many desperate Mhedwa chose to die trying to outrun her rather than wait for the inevitable. Khri had personally ordered the destruction of ships loaded with fathers, mothers and their tiny, fragile offspring. The deaths of millions had saved the lives of billions, including the single Mhedwa colony world. Over the years their meager population had exploded, fueled by the hunger for revenge. Khri wondered where the Mhedwa had found the funds to make such a high bid that was credible, then decided she didn’t want to know. It didn’t matter. If Traeger felt their credits were good then he was probably right.

The Ohlindi shuddered when Khri fumbled through its baggy Earth clothing. The coat had several pockets which Khri emptied, tossing empty candy bar wrappers, bits of brightly-colored foil, a handful of peanuts and a few feathers on the floor. In the last pocket she found it; a small, oval device that reminded her of the Dragonball-finding sensor Bulma had shown her during the Capsule tour. A tiny red light held steady in the center of the cross hairs. Somewhere beneath her skin the Paracelsus tracker was doing its job for the benefit of anyone with the right codes. She crushed the tracer, the display shattering into white sparks and bits of plastic that peppered the floor. The pain was well worth the enjoyment of destroying the treacherous little machine.

“Are you going to stop playing with that creature and kill it, or should I finish the job?”

Khri shrugged off the remark, glared steadily at the Ohlindi and forced herself to concentrate. Its second shriek was more frenzied than the first, but the creature didn’t die. She released it and it slid down the refrigerator doors, collapsing into a raggedly hissing heap. It crept towards the chest freezer and pulled itself up. Every step was a struggle, each breath an agonizing gasp as it dragged itself across the room and out the door.

“Why didn’t you kill it?” Vegeta snarled, fists tightened and eyes glinting in anger.

“What makes you think I haven’t?” She nodded towards the empty doorway. “I didn’t destroy the second heart; I merely gave it what humans would call a moderate heart attack. The Ohlindi will suffer the rest of its’ duplicitous life . . . however short it might be.”

There was a long silence before Vegeta spoke. “You think it will return to Traeger’s ship?”

“I’m betting on it.” Khri picked up a wrinkled paper napkin and wiped the blood from her wrist. The claw marks were shallow and wouldn’t bleed long. “He’s got a few hours to craft a story and plead his case before he reaches the Limita, but even if he manages to convince Traeger you accepted his offer, he’s dead. Traeger will get my message and then kill him. Slowly.” She scrubbed at her hands with the napkin, trying to scrape off the feel of Ohlindi skin. “In letting him live, I was not merciful.”

“It didn’t deserve mercy,” Vegeta replied. “Killing it would have done the job, but your way is . . . interesting.” His voice was a mix of humor and grudging respect. “You’re ruthless. You might just be who you say you are.”

Khri blinked in surprise. “After everything the Ohlindi offered you, you still have doubts?”

Vegeta looked down at the small box in his hand and opened the lid. Bits of blue light scattered across his chest and face, flashing from side to side as he picked up the Fifth Eye of Adan. Khri’s eyes widened at the sight of the gemstone, its heart of azure fire spilling light from between his fingers. The fables were true. It’s absolutely gorgeous, but is it still worth the blood so many spilled for it?

“Not long ago, this stone was Freeza’s greatest obsession.” Vegeta’s voice grew distant as he studied the Eye. “After he tore the head from the Adanesse princess and stole her necklace, he refused to let it out of his sight for weeks. His obsession with it lasted a bit longer than I expected, but he eventually tired of it. It wound up in the same graveyard Freeza sent all his discarded toys. This one, however, managed to survive in one piece.” His eyes reflected the blue sparks from the turning stone. “This trinket could buy worlds. It could also be worth less than the Ohlindi’s lies.”

Khri folded her arms, still clenching the blood-smeared napkin. “I noticed you didn’t accept it’s offer.”

“I didn’t decline it, either.” He tossed the empty box onto a pile of trash and tugged off one of his gloves, slipping the gem inside. “If you’re really one of the last of your race, you’re a rare commodity. You could be sold as an exhibit to a private collector. Maybe you do have enemies who’d like to punish you in their own way, but the real profit could be in your genetics.” His grin held no sign of humor, only insult. “Then again, you are female, and an exotic one. That presents a completely different and very lucrative market possibility.”

Khri saw him smirk in satisfaction at the intensified glow from her eyes. I’ve got more to lose by responding to his insults than if I just let him talk, she told herself harshly. It seemed, however, Vegeta was growing bored. “You’re definitely not like Bulma,” he muttered. “That woman couldn’t hold her tongue if she wanted to. Heh. Maybe that’s why the Namek spends so much time with you.”

He appeared ready to ask a nosy question when he was interrupted by a sudden rush of footsteps. Goten hurtled past the door without glancing their way. Trunks, however, came to a screeching halt with the help of the door frame. “Hey, there you are! Dad, we were about to go looking for you, too!” He leaned out and yelled, “Hey, Goten! Back here! I’ve found him!” When he turned back he gasped in surprise. “Khri! I’m glad Dad found you! What happened? Was that your friend you saw? Why are you down here?” He frowned slightly and looked back and forth between his father and Khri. “Is everything ok here . . . and Dad, why were you suppressing your chi?”

Khri casually slid the blood-covered napkin into her pocket. “Everything is fine, Trunks! I’ll explain, but I . . . ”

Goten skidded into the room. “Khri! Piccolo is looking for you! Trunks, have you signaled him yet?”

He shook his head. “Not yet, but I will right now!“

Khri gasped. “No, Trunks, wait . . .!”

The air rippled with an unseen charge. It fluttered through Trunks’ hair and sent the carpet of paper napkins swirling up like a flock of frightened birds. Before they could start drifting back to the floor, the space between Trunks and Goten shimmered and brightened.

Piccolo spun around, his cloak snapping behind him as his sharp eyes locked on Trunks. The young man smiled weakly and stammered, “we just found Khri, and Dad, too! I signaled as soon as we did!”

Khri felt her stomach drop as Piccolo’s eyes met hers. The large room suddenly felt much smaller as he shouldered past the boys and towered over her. He looked angry, but she reminded herself that Piccolo usually masked his deeper feelings with anger. “I’m all right,” she said softly, hoping the confession would ease the shadows around his eyes and soothe the vein pulsing in his neck.

“Gohan thought otherwise,” he growled through clenched teeth. “You knew you could have been chasing trouble and you went anyway. Dammit, Khri . . . !”

Her emotions, already teetering like an unbalanced sword, swung wildly between feeling insulted, relief and dread. He’d been worried and the discomfort was making him angry, but she couldn’t tell if it was directed at her for causing it or himself for feeling it. Too much is happening too fast . . . I need time to think about this, but I owe him some kind of explanation!

“I thought I saw someone I knew in the crowd.” Goten and Trunks watched her expectantly and there was more curiosity than irritation in Vegeta’s predatory gaze. “I had to find out, even though I knew it could have been a trap.” The memory of Sai’s face stirred the well of grief she’d worked hard to ignore. She looked at the far wall and blinked hard. “I was mistaken.”

The room was silent except for the hum of the refrigerators and soft scuff of Goten’s shoe scuffing the floor. Piccolo sighed and Khri could hear most of his anger leave with it. “I’m . . . sorry it wasn’t Sai.”

Khri almost smiled at the reluctance in his voice. “I was too.” Seeing Sai’s face again after so long had been such a shock, and then learning it had been nothing more than a disguise used by Pym . . . an ugly, dark tendril snaked out of her memory. It slithered up her back, leaving an invisible trail of cold, wet slime. No, not now! She shivered, earning another worried frown from Piccolo. “By the time I found out I was mistaken, the intermission was nearly over. I knew I’d never make it back to the stands before Gohan warned you. I was closer to the warm-up rooms and thought coming here first would be the better choice.”

Piccolo’s reply was interrupted by a snort from Vegeta. “Now that this little search party is over we can get back to more important things, like beating the hell out of a bunch of weaklings without using chi.” He marched through the litter towards the door, then paused and looked back over his shoulder. “Are you coming, Namek, or should we just forfeit and forego this embarrassing nonsense?”

“It’s not nonsense to us!” Goten shot back. “I’ve been working hard on restraint and control and so has Trunks. If we can win this without using chi, we can still compete in future tournaments without having to worry about attracting too much attention!”

Trunks grinned. “Besides, Mom won’t be happy if she’s waited an entire afternoon for a fight that never happens.”

Vegeta barely managed to hide his wince behind a scowl. “Then let’s get this over with.” He stood aside until Goten and his son left the room, then jerked his chin at Piccolo. “Hurry up.”

Piccolo nodded curtly. He waited long enough to be sure Vegeta was out of earshot before turning back to Khri. “What happened?”

Folding her arms again to hide her trembling hands, she stared past him at the distant wall. “I told you, I was mistaken. I thought I saw Sai and I was wrong.”

“That’s not the whole story! I’ve never seen you like this!” His voice rising, Piccolo moved closer, startling her and making her look up at him. “You’re pale and you’re shaking.” His eye ridges knitted in momentary concentration, then he hissed in pain. “And that thing you use as a shield is a mess! What the hell happened?”

Khri used her irritation at his demanding attitude to push back the writhing ghosts of old fears. I wish I could tell you . . . but I don’t want to go where it leads. I can’t go back there! She swallowed hard and tried her coldest tone; it came out shivering rather than steely. “It’s a story that will have to wait, Piccolo. Your team needs you! You may not care about this tournament but Goten and Trunks do.” A deep breath was no help at all. “Please tell Gohan that I’m all right, and I’m on my way back to the stands. I’ll meet you once this is over.” She managed a tight smile before turning away.

Piccolo’s hand caught her uninjured wrist and he tried to pull her back. “Khri, dammit, you need to . . .”

Skin prickling from the contact, Khri tore her arm from his grip. He stared at her in shock, empty hand outstretched, as she danced several steps backward. Her battle stance was shaky and her footing awkward, but there was no doubting her defensive posture. White mantle glowing gold in the heated light from her eyes, Piccolo eased into a non-threatening position. “Khri. I’m not going to hurt you,” he coaxed. “You’re not in danger here. You can stand down.”

How . . . how much did he sense? What does he know? Khri stood in the eye of an uncontrolled storm of emotion, trapped as well as isolated. Nameks were sensitive to the driving force that powered chi, and with no blackfire shield to mask old terrors, the odds were good Piccolo felt a bit of what had stripped it away. I’ve worked too hard, too long at fighting this and I won’t let it beat me now, she shouted at the slick, twining tentacles coiling out of her clouded memories, intent on pulling her down. She took a few gulps of air, bunched her hands into fists and slowly relaxed to a parade stance.

Piccolo retreated another step, giving her plenty of room. “Khri?”

Waves of shame forced a deep blush into her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, face turned away. “You didn’t deserve that. I . . . lost control, and I apologize.” A warning tickle in the back of her throat meant tears were on their way if she didn’t act fast. “I need to go now,” she whispered hoarsely as she turned and nearly ran for the door. She halted in the frame without looking back. “You . . . you should find a different spot other than my roof for meditating tonight.” She vanished, leaving Piccolo standing alone in a fluttering, knee-deep sea of paper that slowly drifted to the floor.

To Be Continued . . .

AN: My brain had a struggle with “it’s” and “its’” and “sss” in this chapter until I nearly drove myself crazy. Hopefully Chapter 25, “Bent,” won’t be so long in writing.

Huge thank-you’s to all my wonderful reviewers. You guys provide much-needed steam that gets each chapter rolling!