Hands pressed against his sides, cold, clinical hands touching, grabbing,
and prodding. He couldn't see, he could only feel, and even then it was as
if he was feeling all this happen through a thick rubber sheet; and worst
of all, he couldn't stop it. The feeling of being touched went away, but he
could sense that the owners of those hands were still present. He couldn't
figure out why he couldn't see, until he realized that wherever he was at
was pitch black.
Piccolo couldn't recall how he'd gotten into this situation, nor could he recall just exactly what had happened to get him into this mess. What he did remember was that he'd talked to Bulma about the military wanting Kihann, that he'd come down to Earth to speak to Gohan about the situation; and that's when everything went blank. Except he had never gotten to see Gohan, hadn't even made it near the city.
But he couldn't remember what had happened, nor could he recall how he'd ended up blacking out. What he did know is that he ached from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet. He couldn't even recall feeling this sore before; and it bothered him deeply.
He struggled to sit, and found that his limbs just refused to work; he felt that they were free, and that his legs were unbound. Again he heard the light breathing of several people, sensed their tenseness, and could smell the sweat of warm bodies.
Where the hell am I? Piccolo gave up trying to sit up, and just lay there trying to figure out his next course of action. Okay, I was heading to Gohans, the city was right within sight, I remember that much. But then it goes black. What the hell happened!? How come I can't recall what hit me?
A low whisper reached his ears, and Piccolo strained to catch any thing he could; a hint of who they were, and why he'd been brought him here. But the more he listened, the more he realized he couldn't understand what they were saying, this disturbed him greatly and he redoubled his efforts to get on his feet.
A hand pressed down on his back, and he half grunted, half growled when he realized that whoever it was had a severe advantage of him. He had no power what so ever. A moment of panic flooded through him when he realized that he was nothing short of defenseless in a strange place, with people he didn't know, and had no idea where he was even at. His other thought was that he had no way of letting anyone know where he was at.
"Listen, friend; I wish to not harm you, but if you continue with your struggling, I will have to render you unconscious once more and I would prefer you to speak to us than just lay there, no?" The voice was thick and heavily accented and it was obvious that the man holding him down was well muscled, and trained to do his job.
Piccolo gritted his teeth, having to concentrate on talking. "Who are you?" It came out sounding like 'oo rrr oo', but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.
"My name is Trask, friend and I'm pleased to see that you speak the same language. I wasn't sure before." A faint chuckle echoed in the darkness before he continued; "After all aliens are not well known for their grasp of the common language. But I must say I'm pleased to see that you're not only capable of speech, but able to comprehend higher thought processes, things that take speech and cognitive thinking." Piccolo snorted softly and struggled a bit to breath, the man was supremely heavy and the namek wondered if this guy was even human. He wasn't about to bluff his way out of this situation, at least not until he figured out just exactly where he was. Piccolo relaxed, figuring that nothing had harmed him greatly yet, and it never hurt to listen and learn until he could do something about it. "Again I ask who you are."
The man named Trask chuckled faintly and leaned back, letting the creature go. Trask knew that the creature had no means of escape, and it couldn't use its power to hurt them. He had seen to that. "The name is Trask like I said old fellow. I think what you mean to ask is what I'm going to do with you, what you are here for, and most importantly what part do I play in the grand scheme of things."
Again Piccolo grunted, it was as close to an acknowledgement he was about to give. Trask continued at the creatures assumed grunt of acknowledgement. "I'm a special operations soldier, my duty as it were, is to gather information and evidence of alien life forms. Which, you happen to be, as well as the little lady you've been hiding. Or thought you were hiding."
The voices Piccolo heard earlier murmured in amusement at the accented mans comment; Piccolo narrowed his eyes in suspicion at the comment, Trask grinned in the dark as he leaned back on his heels. "Now, how about a bit of light; it might do us all a bit of good instead of wallowing in the dark like a bunch of moles."
At Trask's mention of light, a soft glow emanated the room, allowing Piccolo the chance to see his captors faces. He tried once again to sit up, to get rid of that feeling of vulnerability, but Trask once again pressed down on his back; which Piccolo only now realized was bare.
"Now, now; don't go sitting up too soon old fellow. You've been fairly drugged up and well sitting up can have some serious consequences to your equilibrium; as in you'll end up pukin' all over the place and passing out all over again." Trask's tone was amused, he admired this creature; it had guts, and he liked things with guts.
"Now as I was saying;" Trask shifted so that he could get a better look at the creatures face, and the creature could get a better look at him. Piccolo's eyes took in the others appearance, and to say the least he was some what impressed. He never knew that humans could be so large. Trask was probably close to six and a half feet tall, muscled like a pit bull, and probably capable of stopping large vehicles with his face. This, to the Namek looked like it had more than once, he was scarred heavily, and the only thing that drew the attention away from the face was the hair. It was stark white, even the Grand Kai's hair looked dirty in comparison to this mans own hair. He came back as he realized that Trask was still talking. "Your name is Piccolo, we've gathered quite a bit of information on you and your associates. You don't seem surprised by this news."
"Why should I be? The army, military, whatever you are have a reputation for keeping an eye on things that could potentially be more powerful than them, my friends would give you cause for worry." Piccolo was grateful that his speech was returning, and didn't sound so slurred. "My friends have had to clean up the messes that have shown up in the past, when you guys couldn't handle it."
Trask bristled at the comment but then dismissed it. Of course the Namek would try and get a rise out of him, he was baiting the man and Trask was far too intelligent than to rise to it. "Ah, but what you fail to admit is that our planet has been threatened numerous times because of you and your friends. You cannot deny that Piccolo, nor can you deny the fact that you and your associates have caused severe damage to not only this planets property, but to the people as well. So you could be a bit more gracious and try to see from out point of view on this."
Piccolo snorted softly. "What point of view would that be? You haven't told me anything that I want to know, and only given me information you think will placate me."
Trask and the others gathered there (Which Piccolo still couldn't see in the dim room) laughed faintly. Trask shrugged his broad muscle bound shoulders grinning faintly. "Welcome to the military Namek."
Piccolo blinked, startled at the man. How had he known? Trask grinned even more roughly patting the Nameks cheek. "Oh yes, I know what you are, have known for quite some time. I have an entire network of informants; I have people who can gather information almost simply by picking at someone's thoughts."
"Hnnn, great for you, shouldn't be surprised really; since I assume that you're one of the ones responsible for Kihann's original capture, and imprisonment. I'm sure she managed to tell you what she is, among a few other things." Piccolo resigned himself to lying on the floor a bit longer, he was feeling stronger, and whatever drug they had given him was slowly wearing off.
"Well, yes old fellow you are correct in that. Although I have to say, I was quite a bit younger then!" Trask laughed like the two had been best of friends sharing a well known joke.
"Who are the rest of these idiots who think they're lurking in the shadows?" Piccolo inclined his head to the dark corner of the room.
Trask stood and motioned for someone to step forward, by now Piccolo could at least sit up with aid from the wall. Leaning against it he watched with wary eyes as a man of around fifty years of age stepped forward, a tall straight backed man who looked no happier to be there than Piccolo did. Trask tilted his head at the man as he made introductions; "This is the good Doctor San-Yi Murashi. He was the doctor that took care of our dear Kihann; probably a little older than Kihann may recall, but still alive and kicking, but still very much around."
Murashi gave Piccolo a curt nod; the man was obviously aging, but still had the air of one that was young in spirit. Murashi stood considerably shorter to Trask, probably stood around five foot six, and probably weighed an entire one hundred and sixty pounds soaking wet. He offered Piccolo a hand, and then quickly took it back when he realized that the Namek wouldn't shake it, but couldn't shake it. "I'm as he said, San-Yi. I apologize for all of this, if I had known what my experiments would have caused in the way of damages and in ruining peoples' lives, I'd have never started them. Nor," San-Yi cast a baleful look back over his shoulder before continuing, "Would I have agreed to what I did all those years ago."
Piccolo shrugged, for all appearances he seemed to be nonchalant about the whole situation; as if he had nothing better to do than be kidnapped by some countries military and had gods only knew what done to him. "I assume you're here against your will then as well?"
Trask chuckled as San-Yi nodded, responding. "Yes, I am. Tell me, is Kihann alright?"
"She's probably a lot better off than you or I at the moment, yeah." Piccolo noted that the man looked relieved, and wondered if maybe he hadn't cared for Kihann the way a father would for a child, the same way he'd cared for Gohan years ago.
Trask chuckled again, drawing their attention to him for the moment. "Pardon me, but I still have some more introductions to make." He motioned for another to approach; another man stepped forward, dressed in a full military outfit. "This is General Mauston; he's in charge of the Special Forces team."
Piccolo immediately hated this man, there were few people Piccolo could get an automatic impression of but this man just emanated darkness. He was short, portly, his face reminded Piccolo of a pigs face, even his ears were set a bit high on his head and he could have sworn that the tips even folded over. The large man puffed his way over and cleared his throat, Piccolo smirked, he knew he could probably make this mans life a living hell if he so chose.
Mauston regarded the Namek with shrewd eyes. To the General he saw quite a bit of potential in the creature, but he had a feeling the stupid beast would be difficult. Clearing his throat he wheezed; "You're quite a catch, I have to give Trask here our appreciation in apprehending you. I've seen you in the tournaments when I was a younger man, and then later on when you went against that Cell fellow. You also caused us no little amount of concern when you took Kihann from our storage facility. But, it's all ended well now hasn't it?" A malicious grin spread across Mauston face, and Piccolo had to look away, the General was just too hideous to look at when he grinned.
Piccolo felt nauseous and light headed, and looking at the General made it worse. "What makes you think I'm willing to cooperate, pig-boy? Your compliments are not going to make me more complacent, nor are they going to win me to your side. Remember you're the one who's holding me against my will, planning only god knows what you're miniscule little brain can think of all in the hopes of having a better soldier. You're cages, rooms, and whatever else here will probably do little to keep me from remaining long. As for things ending well," Piccolo shrugged and grinned toothily at the man, "We'll just have to see about that."
Mauston narrowed his eyes at the mouthy thing and sneered. "Yes, we will."
After Mauston walked away, Piccolo was introduced to various staff members. He barely paid any attention; these people were inconsequential, pointless. If anything, these people were just casualties waiting to happen. He noted who had what attitude towards him, what their level of fear was towards him, and importantly what titles they held. Piccolo figured he could at least cause these people some grief before he grew sick and bored with the entire thing and either kill them, or escape. Piccolo figured this would be a good opportunity to learn a bit about what Kihann went through and if possibly there were other non-humans around.
The others left after they were introduced except for Trask. To Piccolo he seemed to be in charge of this little operation, even though the General was obviously in charge by rank.
Trask leaned against a wall, lighting a cigarette, flicking the spent match stick to the floor. Piccolo watched him with a half bored expression. Well, he thought, may as well get started with this little dance. "So, tell me Trask, you plan on giving me my clothes back, or is this an attempt to humiliate the new comer?"
Trask laughed faintly, smoke exhaling from his nostrils. "Well you see it's like this; the General there, he sees aliens as well, non-human."
"My, isn't he ever the perceptive one." Piccolo smirked. "But I get your meaning. Don't let those different have anything that could humanize them. Am I correct?"
Trask nodded. "Something like that yes. That and well, we had to make sure you were not carrying any weapons on you, plus you did have to be sanitized before you entered this room."
Now it was Piccolo's turn to laugh, he noticed that the sound of it didn't echo in the room and the deepness of his voice actually startled Trask. "Sanitized, amusing, that really is. Chances are I'm probably more sanitary than the lot of you put together. But we're not here to compare bathing habits now are we?"
"I think I could learn to like you Piccolo, I really do. It's an awful shame that we've had to meet under such circumstances." Trask sounded anything but sympathetic, even though he tried his hardest to. "But in this business, you have to be brutal, heartless and, well making friends with those that you hunt for a living kind of puts a damper on friendships."
"I doubt we'd have ever been friends Trask. No matter what circumstances we would have met in. You're a ferret, a weasel; you are the mighty white hunter by night and coffee boy to the General by day. Chances are you've only got this job because of Kihann and myself; after all how many aliens make it publicly known that they exist here? Probably not many by my estimation, and they're smart. No one wants to be known especially if they're considered different by a groups standards. Humans have always been sheep; they're herd animals by nature; they hate the idea of what's not normal. It doesn't fit into their little plans. If it's not visually pleasing, you make it so by either ridding yourself of it, or having enough money put out to make it look better. If it could potentially be dangerous, you send out the dogs to sniff it out, flush it out of its hole and fill it so full of lead that you could sell its body parts for souvenir pencils. The mighty white hunter strikes again, pat the man on the back and give him a medal." Piccolo's eyes gleamed cruelly as he spoke, he watched the mans reaction, gauging, testing, seeing how far he could push the human before the man struck out either verbally or physically. He continued.
"But then there are people like you, and your little General. They seek out those that don't quite fit the norm, and what do they do? They hunt them down, bind them, and find out what makes them tick. It doesn't matter that the thing they seek could potentially be more intelligent than them. Capable of thoughts and feelings, that would be too far of a stretch. May the Kai forbid that anything that doesn't fit the norm have the same things a human would. You scurry it off to some underground lab, stand around a one way mirrored room and write notes on what it does, what it eats, if it defecates and when. You jot it all down in the All Important Book of: What is Not Normal journal and move onto stage two. This is where it gets fun for you boys, and turns into a living nightmare for those that aren't normal in your eyes. Experiment after experiment; open them up see what makes them tick, but make sure to keep it alive so that you can study it further later. Then when you've rearranged any organs that it may or may not have, you sew it back up; next you work on how tolerant it is to elements. First you try to drown it, then fry it, maybe throw a bit of salt into both situations for flavoring. The whole time you never bother to ask it what its feeling, if it minds being flayed alive, then put back together. You humans do it with animals all the time, never considering the repercussions. The whole time you just thrust it into situation after situation and then you wonder why in the hell your planet gets it ass kicked nearly every decade by invading forces. Don't try and sugar coat what is plainly bullshit Trask. I know why I'm here, I know what you plan to do, and in all honesty, I say give it your best shot; because It's going to take more than five or six doctors, a General with an ego problem and you to take me down."
Trask sucked air through his teeth in a slight whistle, crushing the cigarette beneath a booted foot, a tight grin on his face. "If that wasn't quite the speech; I'm not sure whether to clap, or give you a diploma in babbling 101. I'm not your enemy here chum, if anything I'm here to make this as comfortable as possible. I've been in the alien hunting business for probably a good thirty almost fourty years now, and you've been one of the few that's been left to roam free. You may ask why, you may not; but I'll tell you anyways. You've been an asset to the military and to this planet. You and your little super powered friends, they've helped this planet quite a few times, but then they've also nearly been the destruction of this planet. Now.. You tell me something. What happens when your friends and," Trask motioned to Piccolo; "you grow old and drop dead eh? What will happen when something comes along after you've all gone off to your great gods or whatever in the sky? Where does that leave us humans in fifty, one hundred or even three hundred years from now? We'll be without defenses, without a way to take care of ourselves. Now, if we had say four of five dozen of you, or your friends waiting to be created, lab grown and altered for our type of environment, just think of the possibilities. We wouldn't need humans to defend this world. Wars could be won in a matter of days instead of years; soldiers with families wouldn't have to be called off and killed for the sakes of their countries. If we had just a little bit of your genetic structure, your DNA, we could have an army of super human beings that didn't need to worry about families, their lives, or second guess orders."
"What you want are drones that humans wouldn't feel so guilty about losing in a war. Something that can be killed without remorse; you want stronger, faster, smarter, yet complacent." Piccolo looked away disgusted. "You want something that the television wouldn't mind watching die, live and in color."
"Wouldn't your people do the same if the opportunity arose?" Trask shot back.
Piccolo laughed as he closed his eyes, he felt so tired and drained. "My people as they are were smart enough to learn from their own mistakes and corrected the problems before they got out of control. They don't rely on other races to bail them out whenever there's a problem, not unless it's something beyond their control and even then they do their damnedest to fix it before they ask anyone. Don't drag my people into this little debate. Remember this is your shit ball planet, not mine. I just happened to reside here, that's all. Now do me a favor and get the hell out. I'd like to get some sleep before you subject me to gods know what."
"Indeed. I think it's best if we did let you rest, after all you seem rather agitated at the moment." Trask smirked, he wasn't sure who'd won this round at the moment, but he was willing to let the alien think it was his win. Trask slid his key card in the slot by the door and exited.
Piccolo stared at the door for quite some time, there was too much to think about, and the drug they'd loaded him up with didn't allow for him to think clearly. Propping himself up against the wall, he eventually dozed off.
The next day, or whatever passed for day in the windowless room brought Murashi into Piccolos holding cell. Piccolo had been up for sometime and had anticipated someone's arrival; not sure if it'd be Trask, Murashi, or the General.
Piccolo's eyes followed Murashi as he waited for the door to slide close behind him then turned to face the namek. He tossed the creature the pair of pants he'd come in with; Piccolo caught them easily, unfolding from his lotus position to slide them on with a grateful nod to the human. Murashi averted his gaze politely as Piccolo dressed. After getting everything in order he looked to Murashi. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
Murashi blinked rapidly, pulling off his rounded glasses and cleaning them in a nervous manner with a rage he pulled from his coat pocket. "It wasn't me, although I argued for your side. Trask asked the General to allow you some dignity, and I felt that it was in everyone's best interest to at least treat you somewhat properly." Murashi glanced to the Namek and cleared his throat. "If I approach you won't kill me will you?"
Piccolo shrugged. "I don't see why I would; you're here in the same position I'm in. So what threat are they using on you? What's keeping you here?"
Murashi glanced to door as he crossed the room towards Piccolo. "They have my daughter; they'll kill her if I don't do as they ask."
"You mean they'll kill her if you don't do as they say, I don't think these guys would know how to ask." Piccolo folded his arms over his chest and regarded the man. To Piccolo, the man was doing his best to hide his fear, no just of Piccolo but of the General and of Trask. The doctor tried as much as he could to pretend that being kidnapped and held against his will was a daily occurrence. "I assume the rooms monitored not only by cameras but by audio surveillance as well?"
Murashi nodded. "Of course, everything said is being recorded and documented. If you were to attack this room would be flooded with a debilitating gas, and you'd be rendered unconscious in a matter of seconds."
"How nice," Piccolo commented dryly. "Spare no expense for the guests hmm? What would the gas to do someone like you?"
"Chances are with the dosage it takes to put someone like you down for a bit, it would kill me. Your kind seems highly resistant to poisons and drugs." Murashi shrugged slightly. "But you seem too intelligent to have any want or need to attack, so I don't have to worry, now do I?"
"I already said I have no intentions of attacking. You're in the same boat from what I can tell, and as to where I have nothing more than my life to lose, you have a family. I don't know you; I don't hold any animosity towards you. You're a simple human, just wanting to live their life and these guys are hindering you." In truth Piccolo had discovered that whatever this room was, it hindered him from using Ki, keeping him from even performing simple tricks as hovering or even flaring a bit of ki to light the room. He suspected it also had something to do with the black box on his ankle, but he wasn't about to truly test the limits of this facility and this room quite yet. He still had far too much to learn, and chances were if they were holding Murashi's family hostage in here, he could risk destroying them as well. Then something occurred to him, if they'd questioned Bulma. "Is there anyone else here they're holding against their will?"
Murashi shook his head, but remained oddly silent. "Can I examine you? Just something routine, check your eyes, ears, mouth nose, heart, and lungs; it won't harm you in anyway."
Piccolo shrugged, staying silent as well, letting the man do whatever he pretty much wanted, and twitching only slightly when the man got near his face, he hated things near his face, especially hands. He smirked faintly to himself when he recalled all the times Gohan as a kid had pawed at his face and it had taken nearly every ounce of self control to not throw the kid halfway across the clearing. He blinked coming back to the real world when he noticed Murashi was staring at him oddly.
"Why are you grinning like that?" Murashi asked tensely.
Piccolo chuckled and shook his head. "Just recalling something from a long time ago; sorry. I was just thinking of a kid I trained a long time back."
"Would that be the one called Gohan?" Murashi moved from examining Piccolo's face to looking over the others arm and hand.
Piccolo frowned. "You guys know far too much for my comfort."
Murashi chuckled faintly. "Actually Gohan was a student of mine in College; first year. He took anatomy and physiology, he used you as his thesis in his final; seemed to think pretty highly of you and we had a discussion on you several times. He'd expressed his sorrows at not having the time or the means to come visit you more often, and had sworn me to secrecy that I wouldn't tell anyone that I knew of you. He was a pretty lonely guy in College, despite the fact he seemed to be a fairly popular young man, even for his age, you see he was going to College and High School at the same time. The young boy was a genius, which was amazing considering his disadvantage of being home schooled by his mother, and how much schooling he missed out on while training for various fights as a youth; oh yes I know Gohan very well."
Piccolo wasn't sure how to respond to the doctors' comment, so he just stayed silent. Gohan had missed him? Gohan had actually confided in this man that he'd regretted not having spent more time with him after he'd gone off to school? That gave Piccolo a small amount of comfort, and he took back what he'd thought about Gohan, how he'd thought that Gohan had forgotten about him, and had gone onto bigger and better things. Murashi finished in silence and stepped back. "You seem healthy, in better shape than anything I've ever seen. Of course I can only base your vitals on a humans seeing as how I have very little to go on in the way of Namek physiology. I don't suppose you'd be willing to answer questions?"
"That would fully depend on what kinds of questions, and what they would be used for." Piccolo's brow ridges creased as he frowned. "I understand you have a job to do Doctor Murashi, but that doesn't mean I may feel like cooperating. Especially since I know you're here because of Trask and that General. But, since you've been decent enough to me so far, and since you've treated me decently, I'll answer the questions I feel like answering."
Murashi nodded agreeably. "Anything is better than nothing Piccolo-san. We're in a very precarious situation here and I fully understand and appreciate the situation. If you give me a moment I'll return with my notebook and a chair."
Piccolo watched Murashi leave, letting the Namek have a few moments of peace and time to think. He figured Murashi was an even bigger pawn than he was, and that a lot of this mans researched hinged on the militaries success. Which meant once the man became useless chances were some fisher man would find his partially decomposed corpse after a long day of fishing.
Why am I still here? Why am I not fighting back? Piccolo glanced around the room, it was a good question. He had no reason to stay here, other than to possibly learn just how much this affected non-human life forms, and maybe on some deep sadistic level he looked forward to destroying these people, and to see just how badly this had affected Kihann.
Kihann, there's another enigma. No female Nameks for hundreds of years and suddenly she shows up out of the blue. Do they have her too? Or did she manage to get away. The other question is does anyone know I've gone missing? I hope Bulma's got brains enough to not let Kihann alone for long periods of time. I'm assuming by now that they've noticed I'm gone, and they've taken that as a bad sign.
Murashi returned with another soldier who set up the chair and a small folding table for the Doctor, and giving a cursory glance to the Namek departed. Murashi smiled faintly to Piccolo as he set up a lap top computer and set down some folders. Piccolo made him self comfortable on the floor, waiting patiently.
Murashi dove into the questioning with relish; he asked Piccolo a varying range of questions from such simple things as preferred sleeping habits all the way to just what his home world was like. Piccolo answered the ones he felt like, straying away from questions about his home world, particularly the questions that could potentially give away the location of his home world. He laughed when he asked if he had any children of his own, and plainly stated he'd never have kids of his own. He practically had raised Gohan, and for a while took care of Trunks and Goten. He had no desire to put himself through that hell again. Murashi smiled faintly and commented about how kids were a good thing, but moved on; next asking Piccolo just how he had ended up here, and why.
Piccolo gave a shortened version of his life, leaving out such things as Kami, and the Guardianship, also leaving out the details of the dragon balls. In short he gave them information that wouldn't be useful to them, but made it sound as if it would be.
Murashi wrote it all down, occasionally conferring with things from the folder. Piccolo idly glanced at a piece of paper that had fallen from the doctors grasp; noting that the information held a photo of Kihann, apparently from her initial capture. From the looks of it, they had roughed her over fairly well. He narrowed his eyes at the photo and glanced to Murashi. Murashi gave a faint smile and murmured; "The photo is old, from when Kihann first came to us. She put up quite a fight and well the men who had taken her in initially were less than tolerant towards aliens. But I assure you once she was in our hands; I tried my best to protect her from the men's anger."
Piccolo snorted and tilted his head up to the ceiling, closing his eyes. "You have any other questions Doctor?"
"Only one, ah Piccolo; would you care for anything to eat or drink? It has been a couple days since you've had any food or water. Surely you're hungry or at least thirsty. I'm assuming from the teeth and nails, you're a carnivore?"
Piccolo chuckled and shook his head, keeping his eyes closed. "You assume too much; I'll be content with some water if that's fine with the rest of this bunch."
He heard Murashi stand and stretch, closing his lap top and gathering his notes, heard him slide the key card into the door, the soft whisper of the door complying with the request. He sat in silence, feeling drained and weak; assuming that it was because of the ki dampener on his ankle.
He was almost asleep when he heard the door whisk open once more and a pair of footsteps come in, assuming it was the doctor and a lackey returning with the asked for water.
"Well, looks as if he's asleep. Shall we return later?" Trask's voice jerked the Namek back to wakefulness, though he kept his eyes closed. That was until he heard a soft familiar murmur.
Opening his eyes he briefly wondered if what he saw was some sort of dream, or a bad joke. Trask stood at the closed door, and he wasn't alone.
A familiar arm was slipped around Trask's muscled arm. An arm Piccolo had seen a dozen times. Kihann stood next to Trask leaning against that arm; gaze down on the floor, not looking at Piccolo, or at anyone else. Kihann standing next to Trask, as if it was nearly the most natural thing in the world as if she belonged there, and had always belonged there.
Piccolo's heart stopped; it was a painful feeling and it made him feel sick inside. In that instance he knew he'd been more than used, he'd been betrayed, had his life put in jeopardy The expression must have been clear on his face, since Trask grinned cockily and patted Kihann's arm lovingly and said; "I think you two have quite a bit to talk about. Kihann darling, why don't you explain to the old fellow what you can? I'll be back in a bit to take you to see what you'd given up so much for."
Trask slipped his arm out from under Kihann's and exited the room, two well armed soldiers coming in to stand on either side of Kihann. Piccolo's body tensed and he stood up in one fluid motion, noting that the guns the men carried came up to train themselves on the Namek's head.
Piccolo stared at Kihann, feeling rage and hatred slowly boiling to the surface, shoving aside the hurt and feeling of betrayal, the sense of wanting to beat her to a pulp taking over any other emotion.
Kihann and Piccolo stared at each other, silent for long, painful moments. Kihann's eyes were cool, and remote, as if she felt nothing about this situation; or if she did, she gave no indication what so ever that she felt one way or another. She watched as Piccolo flexed his arms and shoulders, a sure sign of agitation, his hands clenching into fists only to relax again and then double up into fists. She could tell that he so very badly wanted to destroy them all.
Kihann sat down on the chair Murashi had previously occupied, crossing one leg over the other. She glanced to the guards as they came to take up positions on either side of her. "I hope you'll let me live long enough to explain Piccolo. I think you need to fully comprehend all this before anything worse happens, or that you learn things you'd rather not before I have a chance to tell you."
Piccolo snarled, eyes narrowed into thin slits. "You have five minutes before I tear out your throat Kihann. I know I have just enough time before your soldiers take me out, and I'll take you with me for betraying not only me, but my friends."
Kihann paled a bit, seeming to shrink a little in the chair. Licking her lips nervously she shakily poured a glass of water for herself, and a second glass for Piccolo, standing up she offered the glass to the other Namek. Piccolo reached out grasping her hand in his and crushed the glass in her hand. Kihann cried out as the glass bit cruelly into her hand, the shards digging into her soft palm, feeling bones snap in her fingers and hand. Piccolo bending over to hiss in her ear, ignoring the soldiers as they once again brought up their weapons. "You have five minutes Kihann, you traitorous little bitch. Start talking."
Kihann waved off the soldiers with her free hand, cradling the broken and cut hand to her chest, purple blood staining the shirt she wore. She sat back down and taking a deep breath, began.
Piccolo couldn't recall how he'd gotten into this situation, nor could he recall just exactly what had happened to get him into this mess. What he did remember was that he'd talked to Bulma about the military wanting Kihann, that he'd come down to Earth to speak to Gohan about the situation; and that's when everything went blank. Except he had never gotten to see Gohan, hadn't even made it near the city.
But he couldn't remember what had happened, nor could he recall how he'd ended up blacking out. What he did know is that he ached from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet. He couldn't even recall feeling this sore before; and it bothered him deeply.
He struggled to sit, and found that his limbs just refused to work; he felt that they were free, and that his legs were unbound. Again he heard the light breathing of several people, sensed their tenseness, and could smell the sweat of warm bodies.
Where the hell am I? Piccolo gave up trying to sit up, and just lay there trying to figure out his next course of action. Okay, I was heading to Gohans, the city was right within sight, I remember that much. But then it goes black. What the hell happened!? How come I can't recall what hit me?
A low whisper reached his ears, and Piccolo strained to catch any thing he could; a hint of who they were, and why he'd been brought him here. But the more he listened, the more he realized he couldn't understand what they were saying, this disturbed him greatly and he redoubled his efforts to get on his feet.
A hand pressed down on his back, and he half grunted, half growled when he realized that whoever it was had a severe advantage of him. He had no power what so ever. A moment of panic flooded through him when he realized that he was nothing short of defenseless in a strange place, with people he didn't know, and had no idea where he was even at. His other thought was that he had no way of letting anyone know where he was at.
"Listen, friend; I wish to not harm you, but if you continue with your struggling, I will have to render you unconscious once more and I would prefer you to speak to us than just lay there, no?" The voice was thick and heavily accented and it was obvious that the man holding him down was well muscled, and trained to do his job.
Piccolo gritted his teeth, having to concentrate on talking. "Who are you?" It came out sounding like 'oo rrr oo', but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.
"My name is Trask, friend and I'm pleased to see that you speak the same language. I wasn't sure before." A faint chuckle echoed in the darkness before he continued; "After all aliens are not well known for their grasp of the common language. But I must say I'm pleased to see that you're not only capable of speech, but able to comprehend higher thought processes, things that take speech and cognitive thinking." Piccolo snorted softly and struggled a bit to breath, the man was supremely heavy and the namek wondered if this guy was even human. He wasn't about to bluff his way out of this situation, at least not until he figured out just exactly where he was. Piccolo relaxed, figuring that nothing had harmed him greatly yet, and it never hurt to listen and learn until he could do something about it. "Again I ask who you are."
The man named Trask chuckled faintly and leaned back, letting the creature go. Trask knew that the creature had no means of escape, and it couldn't use its power to hurt them. He had seen to that. "The name is Trask like I said old fellow. I think what you mean to ask is what I'm going to do with you, what you are here for, and most importantly what part do I play in the grand scheme of things."
Again Piccolo grunted, it was as close to an acknowledgement he was about to give. Trask continued at the creatures assumed grunt of acknowledgement. "I'm a special operations soldier, my duty as it were, is to gather information and evidence of alien life forms. Which, you happen to be, as well as the little lady you've been hiding. Or thought you were hiding."
The voices Piccolo heard earlier murmured in amusement at the accented mans comment; Piccolo narrowed his eyes in suspicion at the comment, Trask grinned in the dark as he leaned back on his heels. "Now, how about a bit of light; it might do us all a bit of good instead of wallowing in the dark like a bunch of moles."
At Trask's mention of light, a soft glow emanated the room, allowing Piccolo the chance to see his captors faces. He tried once again to sit up, to get rid of that feeling of vulnerability, but Trask once again pressed down on his back; which Piccolo only now realized was bare.
"Now, now; don't go sitting up too soon old fellow. You've been fairly drugged up and well sitting up can have some serious consequences to your equilibrium; as in you'll end up pukin' all over the place and passing out all over again." Trask's tone was amused, he admired this creature; it had guts, and he liked things with guts.
"Now as I was saying;" Trask shifted so that he could get a better look at the creatures face, and the creature could get a better look at him. Piccolo's eyes took in the others appearance, and to say the least he was some what impressed. He never knew that humans could be so large. Trask was probably close to six and a half feet tall, muscled like a pit bull, and probably capable of stopping large vehicles with his face. This, to the Namek looked like it had more than once, he was scarred heavily, and the only thing that drew the attention away from the face was the hair. It was stark white, even the Grand Kai's hair looked dirty in comparison to this mans own hair. He came back as he realized that Trask was still talking. "Your name is Piccolo, we've gathered quite a bit of information on you and your associates. You don't seem surprised by this news."
"Why should I be? The army, military, whatever you are have a reputation for keeping an eye on things that could potentially be more powerful than them, my friends would give you cause for worry." Piccolo was grateful that his speech was returning, and didn't sound so slurred. "My friends have had to clean up the messes that have shown up in the past, when you guys couldn't handle it."
Trask bristled at the comment but then dismissed it. Of course the Namek would try and get a rise out of him, he was baiting the man and Trask was far too intelligent than to rise to it. "Ah, but what you fail to admit is that our planet has been threatened numerous times because of you and your friends. You cannot deny that Piccolo, nor can you deny the fact that you and your associates have caused severe damage to not only this planets property, but to the people as well. So you could be a bit more gracious and try to see from out point of view on this."
Piccolo snorted softly. "What point of view would that be? You haven't told me anything that I want to know, and only given me information you think will placate me."
Trask and the others gathered there (Which Piccolo still couldn't see in the dim room) laughed faintly. Trask shrugged his broad muscle bound shoulders grinning faintly. "Welcome to the military Namek."
Piccolo blinked, startled at the man. How had he known? Trask grinned even more roughly patting the Nameks cheek. "Oh yes, I know what you are, have known for quite some time. I have an entire network of informants; I have people who can gather information almost simply by picking at someone's thoughts."
"Hnnn, great for you, shouldn't be surprised really; since I assume that you're one of the ones responsible for Kihann's original capture, and imprisonment. I'm sure she managed to tell you what she is, among a few other things." Piccolo resigned himself to lying on the floor a bit longer, he was feeling stronger, and whatever drug they had given him was slowly wearing off.
"Well, yes old fellow you are correct in that. Although I have to say, I was quite a bit younger then!" Trask laughed like the two had been best of friends sharing a well known joke.
"Who are the rest of these idiots who think they're lurking in the shadows?" Piccolo inclined his head to the dark corner of the room.
Trask stood and motioned for someone to step forward, by now Piccolo could at least sit up with aid from the wall. Leaning against it he watched with wary eyes as a man of around fifty years of age stepped forward, a tall straight backed man who looked no happier to be there than Piccolo did. Trask tilted his head at the man as he made introductions; "This is the good Doctor San-Yi Murashi. He was the doctor that took care of our dear Kihann; probably a little older than Kihann may recall, but still alive and kicking, but still very much around."
Murashi gave Piccolo a curt nod; the man was obviously aging, but still had the air of one that was young in spirit. Murashi stood considerably shorter to Trask, probably stood around five foot six, and probably weighed an entire one hundred and sixty pounds soaking wet. He offered Piccolo a hand, and then quickly took it back when he realized that the Namek wouldn't shake it, but couldn't shake it. "I'm as he said, San-Yi. I apologize for all of this, if I had known what my experiments would have caused in the way of damages and in ruining peoples' lives, I'd have never started them. Nor," San-Yi cast a baleful look back over his shoulder before continuing, "Would I have agreed to what I did all those years ago."
Piccolo shrugged, for all appearances he seemed to be nonchalant about the whole situation; as if he had nothing better to do than be kidnapped by some countries military and had gods only knew what done to him. "I assume you're here against your will then as well?"
Trask chuckled as San-Yi nodded, responding. "Yes, I am. Tell me, is Kihann alright?"
"She's probably a lot better off than you or I at the moment, yeah." Piccolo noted that the man looked relieved, and wondered if maybe he hadn't cared for Kihann the way a father would for a child, the same way he'd cared for Gohan years ago.
Trask chuckled again, drawing their attention to him for the moment. "Pardon me, but I still have some more introductions to make." He motioned for another to approach; another man stepped forward, dressed in a full military outfit. "This is General Mauston; he's in charge of the Special Forces team."
Piccolo immediately hated this man, there were few people Piccolo could get an automatic impression of but this man just emanated darkness. He was short, portly, his face reminded Piccolo of a pigs face, even his ears were set a bit high on his head and he could have sworn that the tips even folded over. The large man puffed his way over and cleared his throat, Piccolo smirked, he knew he could probably make this mans life a living hell if he so chose.
Mauston regarded the Namek with shrewd eyes. To the General he saw quite a bit of potential in the creature, but he had a feeling the stupid beast would be difficult. Clearing his throat he wheezed; "You're quite a catch, I have to give Trask here our appreciation in apprehending you. I've seen you in the tournaments when I was a younger man, and then later on when you went against that Cell fellow. You also caused us no little amount of concern when you took Kihann from our storage facility. But, it's all ended well now hasn't it?" A malicious grin spread across Mauston face, and Piccolo had to look away, the General was just too hideous to look at when he grinned.
Piccolo felt nauseous and light headed, and looking at the General made it worse. "What makes you think I'm willing to cooperate, pig-boy? Your compliments are not going to make me more complacent, nor are they going to win me to your side. Remember you're the one who's holding me against my will, planning only god knows what you're miniscule little brain can think of all in the hopes of having a better soldier. You're cages, rooms, and whatever else here will probably do little to keep me from remaining long. As for things ending well," Piccolo shrugged and grinned toothily at the man, "We'll just have to see about that."
Mauston narrowed his eyes at the mouthy thing and sneered. "Yes, we will."
After Mauston walked away, Piccolo was introduced to various staff members. He barely paid any attention; these people were inconsequential, pointless. If anything, these people were just casualties waiting to happen. He noted who had what attitude towards him, what their level of fear was towards him, and importantly what titles they held. Piccolo figured he could at least cause these people some grief before he grew sick and bored with the entire thing and either kill them, or escape. Piccolo figured this would be a good opportunity to learn a bit about what Kihann went through and if possibly there were other non-humans around.
The others left after they were introduced except for Trask. To Piccolo he seemed to be in charge of this little operation, even though the General was obviously in charge by rank.
Trask leaned against a wall, lighting a cigarette, flicking the spent match stick to the floor. Piccolo watched him with a half bored expression. Well, he thought, may as well get started with this little dance. "So, tell me Trask, you plan on giving me my clothes back, or is this an attempt to humiliate the new comer?"
Trask laughed faintly, smoke exhaling from his nostrils. "Well you see it's like this; the General there, he sees aliens as well, non-human."
"My, isn't he ever the perceptive one." Piccolo smirked. "But I get your meaning. Don't let those different have anything that could humanize them. Am I correct?"
Trask nodded. "Something like that yes. That and well, we had to make sure you were not carrying any weapons on you, plus you did have to be sanitized before you entered this room."
Now it was Piccolo's turn to laugh, he noticed that the sound of it didn't echo in the room and the deepness of his voice actually startled Trask. "Sanitized, amusing, that really is. Chances are I'm probably more sanitary than the lot of you put together. But we're not here to compare bathing habits now are we?"
"I think I could learn to like you Piccolo, I really do. It's an awful shame that we've had to meet under such circumstances." Trask sounded anything but sympathetic, even though he tried his hardest to. "But in this business, you have to be brutal, heartless and, well making friends with those that you hunt for a living kind of puts a damper on friendships."
"I doubt we'd have ever been friends Trask. No matter what circumstances we would have met in. You're a ferret, a weasel; you are the mighty white hunter by night and coffee boy to the General by day. Chances are you've only got this job because of Kihann and myself; after all how many aliens make it publicly known that they exist here? Probably not many by my estimation, and they're smart. No one wants to be known especially if they're considered different by a groups standards. Humans have always been sheep; they're herd animals by nature; they hate the idea of what's not normal. It doesn't fit into their little plans. If it's not visually pleasing, you make it so by either ridding yourself of it, or having enough money put out to make it look better. If it could potentially be dangerous, you send out the dogs to sniff it out, flush it out of its hole and fill it so full of lead that you could sell its body parts for souvenir pencils. The mighty white hunter strikes again, pat the man on the back and give him a medal." Piccolo's eyes gleamed cruelly as he spoke, he watched the mans reaction, gauging, testing, seeing how far he could push the human before the man struck out either verbally or physically. He continued.
"But then there are people like you, and your little General. They seek out those that don't quite fit the norm, and what do they do? They hunt them down, bind them, and find out what makes them tick. It doesn't matter that the thing they seek could potentially be more intelligent than them. Capable of thoughts and feelings, that would be too far of a stretch. May the Kai forbid that anything that doesn't fit the norm have the same things a human would. You scurry it off to some underground lab, stand around a one way mirrored room and write notes on what it does, what it eats, if it defecates and when. You jot it all down in the All Important Book of: What is Not Normal journal and move onto stage two. This is where it gets fun for you boys, and turns into a living nightmare for those that aren't normal in your eyes. Experiment after experiment; open them up see what makes them tick, but make sure to keep it alive so that you can study it further later. Then when you've rearranged any organs that it may or may not have, you sew it back up; next you work on how tolerant it is to elements. First you try to drown it, then fry it, maybe throw a bit of salt into both situations for flavoring. The whole time you never bother to ask it what its feeling, if it minds being flayed alive, then put back together. You humans do it with animals all the time, never considering the repercussions. The whole time you just thrust it into situation after situation and then you wonder why in the hell your planet gets it ass kicked nearly every decade by invading forces. Don't try and sugar coat what is plainly bullshit Trask. I know why I'm here, I know what you plan to do, and in all honesty, I say give it your best shot; because It's going to take more than five or six doctors, a General with an ego problem and you to take me down."
Trask sucked air through his teeth in a slight whistle, crushing the cigarette beneath a booted foot, a tight grin on his face. "If that wasn't quite the speech; I'm not sure whether to clap, or give you a diploma in babbling 101. I'm not your enemy here chum, if anything I'm here to make this as comfortable as possible. I've been in the alien hunting business for probably a good thirty almost fourty years now, and you've been one of the few that's been left to roam free. You may ask why, you may not; but I'll tell you anyways. You've been an asset to the military and to this planet. You and your little super powered friends, they've helped this planet quite a few times, but then they've also nearly been the destruction of this planet. Now.. You tell me something. What happens when your friends and," Trask motioned to Piccolo; "you grow old and drop dead eh? What will happen when something comes along after you've all gone off to your great gods or whatever in the sky? Where does that leave us humans in fifty, one hundred or even three hundred years from now? We'll be without defenses, without a way to take care of ourselves. Now, if we had say four of five dozen of you, or your friends waiting to be created, lab grown and altered for our type of environment, just think of the possibilities. We wouldn't need humans to defend this world. Wars could be won in a matter of days instead of years; soldiers with families wouldn't have to be called off and killed for the sakes of their countries. If we had just a little bit of your genetic structure, your DNA, we could have an army of super human beings that didn't need to worry about families, their lives, or second guess orders."
"What you want are drones that humans wouldn't feel so guilty about losing in a war. Something that can be killed without remorse; you want stronger, faster, smarter, yet complacent." Piccolo looked away disgusted. "You want something that the television wouldn't mind watching die, live and in color."
"Wouldn't your people do the same if the opportunity arose?" Trask shot back.
Piccolo laughed as he closed his eyes, he felt so tired and drained. "My people as they are were smart enough to learn from their own mistakes and corrected the problems before they got out of control. They don't rely on other races to bail them out whenever there's a problem, not unless it's something beyond their control and even then they do their damnedest to fix it before they ask anyone. Don't drag my people into this little debate. Remember this is your shit ball planet, not mine. I just happened to reside here, that's all. Now do me a favor and get the hell out. I'd like to get some sleep before you subject me to gods know what."
"Indeed. I think it's best if we did let you rest, after all you seem rather agitated at the moment." Trask smirked, he wasn't sure who'd won this round at the moment, but he was willing to let the alien think it was his win. Trask slid his key card in the slot by the door and exited.
Piccolo stared at the door for quite some time, there was too much to think about, and the drug they'd loaded him up with didn't allow for him to think clearly. Propping himself up against the wall, he eventually dozed off.
The next day, or whatever passed for day in the windowless room brought Murashi into Piccolos holding cell. Piccolo had been up for sometime and had anticipated someone's arrival; not sure if it'd be Trask, Murashi, or the General.
Piccolo's eyes followed Murashi as he waited for the door to slide close behind him then turned to face the namek. He tossed the creature the pair of pants he'd come in with; Piccolo caught them easily, unfolding from his lotus position to slide them on with a grateful nod to the human. Murashi averted his gaze politely as Piccolo dressed. After getting everything in order he looked to Murashi. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
Murashi blinked rapidly, pulling off his rounded glasses and cleaning them in a nervous manner with a rage he pulled from his coat pocket. "It wasn't me, although I argued for your side. Trask asked the General to allow you some dignity, and I felt that it was in everyone's best interest to at least treat you somewhat properly." Murashi glanced to the Namek and cleared his throat. "If I approach you won't kill me will you?"
Piccolo shrugged. "I don't see why I would; you're here in the same position I'm in. So what threat are they using on you? What's keeping you here?"
Murashi glanced to door as he crossed the room towards Piccolo. "They have my daughter; they'll kill her if I don't do as they ask."
"You mean they'll kill her if you don't do as they say, I don't think these guys would know how to ask." Piccolo folded his arms over his chest and regarded the man. To Piccolo, the man was doing his best to hide his fear, no just of Piccolo but of the General and of Trask. The doctor tried as much as he could to pretend that being kidnapped and held against his will was a daily occurrence. "I assume the rooms monitored not only by cameras but by audio surveillance as well?"
Murashi nodded. "Of course, everything said is being recorded and documented. If you were to attack this room would be flooded with a debilitating gas, and you'd be rendered unconscious in a matter of seconds."
"How nice," Piccolo commented dryly. "Spare no expense for the guests hmm? What would the gas to do someone like you?"
"Chances are with the dosage it takes to put someone like you down for a bit, it would kill me. Your kind seems highly resistant to poisons and drugs." Murashi shrugged slightly. "But you seem too intelligent to have any want or need to attack, so I don't have to worry, now do I?"
"I already said I have no intentions of attacking. You're in the same boat from what I can tell, and as to where I have nothing more than my life to lose, you have a family. I don't know you; I don't hold any animosity towards you. You're a simple human, just wanting to live their life and these guys are hindering you." In truth Piccolo had discovered that whatever this room was, it hindered him from using Ki, keeping him from even performing simple tricks as hovering or even flaring a bit of ki to light the room. He suspected it also had something to do with the black box on his ankle, but he wasn't about to truly test the limits of this facility and this room quite yet. He still had far too much to learn, and chances were if they were holding Murashi's family hostage in here, he could risk destroying them as well. Then something occurred to him, if they'd questioned Bulma. "Is there anyone else here they're holding against their will?"
Murashi shook his head, but remained oddly silent. "Can I examine you? Just something routine, check your eyes, ears, mouth nose, heart, and lungs; it won't harm you in anyway."
Piccolo shrugged, staying silent as well, letting the man do whatever he pretty much wanted, and twitching only slightly when the man got near his face, he hated things near his face, especially hands. He smirked faintly to himself when he recalled all the times Gohan as a kid had pawed at his face and it had taken nearly every ounce of self control to not throw the kid halfway across the clearing. He blinked coming back to the real world when he noticed Murashi was staring at him oddly.
"Why are you grinning like that?" Murashi asked tensely.
Piccolo chuckled and shook his head. "Just recalling something from a long time ago; sorry. I was just thinking of a kid I trained a long time back."
"Would that be the one called Gohan?" Murashi moved from examining Piccolo's face to looking over the others arm and hand.
Piccolo frowned. "You guys know far too much for my comfort."
Murashi chuckled faintly. "Actually Gohan was a student of mine in College; first year. He took anatomy and physiology, he used you as his thesis in his final; seemed to think pretty highly of you and we had a discussion on you several times. He'd expressed his sorrows at not having the time or the means to come visit you more often, and had sworn me to secrecy that I wouldn't tell anyone that I knew of you. He was a pretty lonely guy in College, despite the fact he seemed to be a fairly popular young man, even for his age, you see he was going to College and High School at the same time. The young boy was a genius, which was amazing considering his disadvantage of being home schooled by his mother, and how much schooling he missed out on while training for various fights as a youth; oh yes I know Gohan very well."
Piccolo wasn't sure how to respond to the doctors' comment, so he just stayed silent. Gohan had missed him? Gohan had actually confided in this man that he'd regretted not having spent more time with him after he'd gone off to school? That gave Piccolo a small amount of comfort, and he took back what he'd thought about Gohan, how he'd thought that Gohan had forgotten about him, and had gone onto bigger and better things. Murashi finished in silence and stepped back. "You seem healthy, in better shape than anything I've ever seen. Of course I can only base your vitals on a humans seeing as how I have very little to go on in the way of Namek physiology. I don't suppose you'd be willing to answer questions?"
"That would fully depend on what kinds of questions, and what they would be used for." Piccolo's brow ridges creased as he frowned. "I understand you have a job to do Doctor Murashi, but that doesn't mean I may feel like cooperating. Especially since I know you're here because of Trask and that General. But, since you've been decent enough to me so far, and since you've treated me decently, I'll answer the questions I feel like answering."
Murashi nodded agreeably. "Anything is better than nothing Piccolo-san. We're in a very precarious situation here and I fully understand and appreciate the situation. If you give me a moment I'll return with my notebook and a chair."
Piccolo watched Murashi leave, letting the Namek have a few moments of peace and time to think. He figured Murashi was an even bigger pawn than he was, and that a lot of this mans researched hinged on the militaries success. Which meant once the man became useless chances were some fisher man would find his partially decomposed corpse after a long day of fishing.
Why am I still here? Why am I not fighting back? Piccolo glanced around the room, it was a good question. He had no reason to stay here, other than to possibly learn just how much this affected non-human life forms, and maybe on some deep sadistic level he looked forward to destroying these people, and to see just how badly this had affected Kihann.
Kihann, there's another enigma. No female Nameks for hundreds of years and suddenly she shows up out of the blue. Do they have her too? Or did she manage to get away. The other question is does anyone know I've gone missing? I hope Bulma's got brains enough to not let Kihann alone for long periods of time. I'm assuming by now that they've noticed I'm gone, and they've taken that as a bad sign.
Murashi returned with another soldier who set up the chair and a small folding table for the Doctor, and giving a cursory glance to the Namek departed. Murashi smiled faintly to Piccolo as he set up a lap top computer and set down some folders. Piccolo made him self comfortable on the floor, waiting patiently.
Murashi dove into the questioning with relish; he asked Piccolo a varying range of questions from such simple things as preferred sleeping habits all the way to just what his home world was like. Piccolo answered the ones he felt like, straying away from questions about his home world, particularly the questions that could potentially give away the location of his home world. He laughed when he asked if he had any children of his own, and plainly stated he'd never have kids of his own. He practically had raised Gohan, and for a while took care of Trunks and Goten. He had no desire to put himself through that hell again. Murashi smiled faintly and commented about how kids were a good thing, but moved on; next asking Piccolo just how he had ended up here, and why.
Piccolo gave a shortened version of his life, leaving out such things as Kami, and the Guardianship, also leaving out the details of the dragon balls. In short he gave them information that wouldn't be useful to them, but made it sound as if it would be.
Murashi wrote it all down, occasionally conferring with things from the folder. Piccolo idly glanced at a piece of paper that had fallen from the doctors grasp; noting that the information held a photo of Kihann, apparently from her initial capture. From the looks of it, they had roughed her over fairly well. He narrowed his eyes at the photo and glanced to Murashi. Murashi gave a faint smile and murmured; "The photo is old, from when Kihann first came to us. She put up quite a fight and well the men who had taken her in initially were less than tolerant towards aliens. But I assure you once she was in our hands; I tried my best to protect her from the men's anger."
Piccolo snorted and tilted his head up to the ceiling, closing his eyes. "You have any other questions Doctor?"
"Only one, ah Piccolo; would you care for anything to eat or drink? It has been a couple days since you've had any food or water. Surely you're hungry or at least thirsty. I'm assuming from the teeth and nails, you're a carnivore?"
Piccolo chuckled and shook his head, keeping his eyes closed. "You assume too much; I'll be content with some water if that's fine with the rest of this bunch."
He heard Murashi stand and stretch, closing his lap top and gathering his notes, heard him slide the key card into the door, the soft whisper of the door complying with the request. He sat in silence, feeling drained and weak; assuming that it was because of the ki dampener on his ankle.
He was almost asleep when he heard the door whisk open once more and a pair of footsteps come in, assuming it was the doctor and a lackey returning with the asked for water.
"Well, looks as if he's asleep. Shall we return later?" Trask's voice jerked the Namek back to wakefulness, though he kept his eyes closed. That was until he heard a soft familiar murmur.
Opening his eyes he briefly wondered if what he saw was some sort of dream, or a bad joke. Trask stood at the closed door, and he wasn't alone.
A familiar arm was slipped around Trask's muscled arm. An arm Piccolo had seen a dozen times. Kihann stood next to Trask leaning against that arm; gaze down on the floor, not looking at Piccolo, or at anyone else. Kihann standing next to Trask, as if it was nearly the most natural thing in the world as if she belonged there, and had always belonged there.
Piccolo's heart stopped; it was a painful feeling and it made him feel sick inside. In that instance he knew he'd been more than used, he'd been betrayed, had his life put in jeopardy The expression must have been clear on his face, since Trask grinned cockily and patted Kihann's arm lovingly and said; "I think you two have quite a bit to talk about. Kihann darling, why don't you explain to the old fellow what you can? I'll be back in a bit to take you to see what you'd given up so much for."
Trask slipped his arm out from under Kihann's and exited the room, two well armed soldiers coming in to stand on either side of Kihann. Piccolo's body tensed and he stood up in one fluid motion, noting that the guns the men carried came up to train themselves on the Namek's head.
Piccolo stared at Kihann, feeling rage and hatred slowly boiling to the surface, shoving aside the hurt and feeling of betrayal, the sense of wanting to beat her to a pulp taking over any other emotion.
Kihann and Piccolo stared at each other, silent for long, painful moments. Kihann's eyes were cool, and remote, as if she felt nothing about this situation; or if she did, she gave no indication what so ever that she felt one way or another. She watched as Piccolo flexed his arms and shoulders, a sure sign of agitation, his hands clenching into fists only to relax again and then double up into fists. She could tell that he so very badly wanted to destroy them all.
Kihann sat down on the chair Murashi had previously occupied, crossing one leg over the other. She glanced to the guards as they came to take up positions on either side of her. "I hope you'll let me live long enough to explain Piccolo. I think you need to fully comprehend all this before anything worse happens, or that you learn things you'd rather not before I have a chance to tell you."
Piccolo snarled, eyes narrowed into thin slits. "You have five minutes before I tear out your throat Kihann. I know I have just enough time before your soldiers take me out, and I'll take you with me for betraying not only me, but my friends."
Kihann paled a bit, seeming to shrink a little in the chair. Licking her lips nervously she shakily poured a glass of water for herself, and a second glass for Piccolo, standing up she offered the glass to the other Namek. Piccolo reached out grasping her hand in his and crushed the glass in her hand. Kihann cried out as the glass bit cruelly into her hand, the shards digging into her soft palm, feeling bones snap in her fingers and hand. Piccolo bending over to hiss in her ear, ignoring the soldiers as they once again brought up their weapons. "You have five minutes Kihann, you traitorous little bitch. Start talking."
Kihann waved off the soldiers with her free hand, cradling the broken and cut hand to her chest, purple blood staining the shirt she wore. She sat back down and taking a deep breath, began.