Disclaimer: Logic dictates that if you think I have rights to DBZ you're either drunk, high, or gullible. Ha ha
Hi I apologize.Chapter 11: Investigation
"Hey doc, how's Piccolo doing today?" Gohan greeted as he strolled to the Namek's room.
"Wish I could tell you," the doctor grumbled.
Gohan stopped, "What do you mean, he didn't… die right?"
The doctor laughed, "I don't think anything can do that, he just took off that's all."
"Took off? Where to?"
"I have no clue, you're his pack-member, you have a better idea about his whereabouts then I ever could."
"Hm, Piccolo… I wish you would've told me… maybe one of the others know where he is," Gohan thought, "sigh I doubt it though, it probably didn't even occur to him to fill us in on his plan."Meanwhile, on a distant planet…
A small man wearing only rags turned off the main road and into an alley he was rather fond of. His appearance was mouse-like, the light brown fur that covered his body only enhancing that fact. He settled down next to a dumpster, shrouded in darkness.
"I thought I'd find you here Drackus."
"Wh-who's there?" the man squeaked.
A tall hooded figure sat next to him, "an old friend."
The mouse-man sniffed the air and smiled, "Of course, how could I not recognize that wolfish stench you have?"
The hooded figured chuckled, "It's good to see you again too."
"So what brings you here? I heard you were climbing to a much higher position of power, so what could you possibly want from a homeless street-mouse like me?"
"Information, I'm looking for someone, I believe his a packing mule of yours."
"I have quite a few packing mules."
"Yes, but this one would stand out, with the gustavoise and all."
"Ah yes, that one. Last I heard he ran into a spot of trouble with a Rackilijan freighter owner named Houstent. And you know how those Rackilijan's are, so he's most likely dead. It's a shame, he was one of my few steady runners too."
"I see… well, guess I'll have to find my information some other way."
"Sorry bout that, good to see you again," he extended his clawed hand for a handshake. From the recesses of the cloak the other met this gesture with his own, green hand, then left.
The mouse-man watched the figure disappear into the throng of people on the main street, "I hope he got all that, codes are quite tricky. Of course, Piccolo's a smart man."
Piccolo snuck onto the nearest interplanetary cruiser that would soon depart and made himself comfortable among the passengers' possessions in the cargo hold. "Okay, he said Houstent, the only Rackilijan freighter owner we know who doesn't get violent with passengers that misbehave, and that the man I was looking for was one of his steady customers, so that means my target delivered a load for him using Houstents freighter, and the only planet I know of that Houstent will do that for is Frekileta. But is he still there? Let's see he said he was most likely dead right? So that means he either got stranded there or he didn't make it to his destination and I need to talk to Houstent… now, the last time he told me someone died he meant they didn't reach their destination, but he gave me a hint to where Houstent was… a spot of trouble, of course, the spotted planet of Jisdwer, where anarchy reins supreme. Hm, this is a standard cruiser so it won't stop at Jisdwer, but it should go to Y'heruck; I can catch a connecting flight there. Good, now I just have to kill a eleven hours and make sure I don't get caught."
"Entering Post Light-Speed Mode," a voice over the intercom announced and the lights dimmed to compensate for the energy it needed.
In the passenger area the seatbelt signs were no doubt flashing, but Piccolo didn't have that luxury so he braced himself by squeezing between two boxes and holding onto the rails along their sides for what was supposed to be lifting purposes. The ship suddenly jolted as its speed increased by an unfathomable number. Piccolo felt himself be pressed against the cargo hold's wall. One of the large crates across from him suddenly broke loose from its bonds and came sliding towards the Namek.
"Oh, crap," he did the best he could to lift his legs and halt the crate. He felt one of his knees pop out of place and his ribs bend, he gritted his teeth as he fought the crate that continued to press against him. The ship finally reached it's desired speed and cut acceleration abruptly. The crate slid away from Piccolo due to the sudden stabilization. Piccolo grabbed his knee, "Dammit, if only I wasn't still recovering I wouldn't even have to be on this bloody ship. At least I have enough energy to heal this knee though." Before he could carry this plan out though he heard the door open.
Two security guards walked in, "See I told you it was just a crate that came loose," one said.
"Yeah, yeah, let's get it back to where it's supposed to be."
"Ha ha, you're just sore because it wasn't the "Space Ghost" everyone's been saying has been blowing up ships from the cargo holds."
"Shuddap, it could happen."
Piccolo watched the two men push the crate back into place and secure it again from the ceiling.
"Yeah, well, if you ask me it's just those damned Tularian terrorists again, you know how they used to sneak onto ships and put bombs near any volatile cargo."
"Just because you don't believe in ghosts doesn't mean…" they left, the door slamming behind them.
Piccolo waited a couple minutes then jumped down and healed his knee. "Well, I might as well get some sleep."
Fourteen hours later, Piccolo sat down next to Houstent, the red, almost dinosaur-like man, at a diner and ordered water.
"Well, well, what brings you here Green Furball?"
"Oh, just inquiring about some cargo you transported, Red Wuss."
"I transport a lot of cargo."
"Why does everyone say that?"
"Well, you're question is rather vague, so of course you're going to get a vague answer."
"Unless of course you're patient so I can be more detailed."
"Ha ha, I suppose."
"Anyways, I believe the cargo was on your last Frekileta route."
"Ah, that one, yeah, hit a cosmic storm on the way, had to make an emergency landing on Sylvanro, had a lot of damage to the ship, the client told me the goods would spoil and sent someone else to pick it up."
"Do you know where they took it?"
"Psh, you think I know? They could have taken it to Kingdom of the Dead for all I care."
"That's all you have?"
"That's all, look I don't go stickin' my nose in customer's business, man gets his head chopped off doin' stuff like that."
"All right, all right, I was just asking."
"Well, I guess I'll poke around a little."
"Yup, see ya around."
Piccolo got up and left, he was stopped at the door, "Sir, you didn't pay for your drink, it's thirty sheleanos."
"Put it on my Rackilijan friend's tab."
"Yes sir, we hope to see you again."
Piccolo sighed, "All right, the goods would spoil, that means my target had something besides the drugs he was transporting, something Houstent couldn't even figure out, he was picked up by someone else. He mentioned the Kingdom of the Dead, if I remember correctly, he called the planet of Bokidarris that once because it was constantly shrouded in thick rain clouds. His mention of getting his head chopped off no doubt meant my target will be leaving the planet soon, although it certainly is probable he would beheaded for giving me information. Well looks like another long flight in another cargo hold, hopefully my target won't have moved on by the time I get there."
Halfway through the flight, Piccolo was awoken by people stirring in the cargo. He stiffened, and pinpointed the noise. It was coming from the inside of the crate he was leaning on. "What the-" he sprang up onto the ceiling as the box suddenly opened. Two figures emerged from it; they were surrounded by an odd… mist almost. It was hard to describe, it was more a distortion, but not quite. Piccolo sniffed for their scent and recognized it immediately. One of them started banging on the walls, which promptly caused the security guards to come running in.
"What the Hell?!" They yelled and shot at the two figures, but the bullets went right through them, and then they raised their arms. Piccolo covered his eyes, he knew this attack; it knocked out anyone who saw it. He waited until he heard the guards fall to the floor than opened his eyes and saw the two figures place charges by a crate that had, "Caution" and "Danger" written in different languages all over it.
"So that's how you've been doing it." Piccolo said.
The two snapped their attention to him; he swooped down on them before they could react, hitting them both in the same place on their backs. Small mechanical devices that were there exploded and the distortion that had shrouded them fell.
"So, how did the Tularian terrorists get their hands on Dimensional Shifters?"
They hissed and ready an attack.
"I wouldn't suggest that, now that I destroyed your Dimensional Shifters I can easily hit you."
They hissed at him and went to strike, but Piccolo came down from the ceiling and knocked them out with a single blow. He tied them up, gagged them, and placed their broken dimension Shifters in front of them, then went back on the ceiling, hiding in a more secluded area.
Eventually the security guards woke up and say the Tularians.
"What the, what's this?"
"Oy, these look kinda like the blokes that attacked us but without the distortion."
"Yeah, look at these devices, these are what made it possible for them to disguise ourselves, and why our bullets passed through them."
"I bet this been 'ow they been goin' around blowin up cargo ships, every ship carries explosive material, if not goods than emergency fuel, I bet they would hide in a crate, wait for us to get deep into space then blow charges next to the fuel and not leave a trace cuz they know we can't trace charges when they go off so close to the emergency fuel and these here things would allow them to survive the blast, use their energy to make a field of breathable air, then turn themselves completely invisible until they got far enough away so they could be picked up by their fellows!"
"Yes, I was thinking the same thing, however, there are two problems, one: why would terrorists not claim their role in this, and two, if we were knocked out, who knocked out them and tied them up."
They both pulled out their guns, "We must have a hitchhiker."
Piccolo just watched as they turned the cargo bay upside down, the intercom finally turned on announced the drop out of Post Light-Speed Mode as they approached their destination. Piccolo smirked.
The security guard said, "Tell the Captain to hold the ship at a complete standstill until we find the hitchhiker, I'll stay here and keep an eye out for him."
Piccolo inwardly sighed, then swooped down and knocked them out again. They decelerated abruptly and Piccolo found himself pinned against the wall in a most uncomfortable position, especially after one of the guards crashed into him, and even more thoroughly annoyed when they returned to normal speed and he crashed to the floor. However, he was able to escape undetected, and thus, able to move onward with his investigation that only he knew the purpose of.
That's all for this chappie, next time: What is it that Piccolo is looking for? Will he find the answers to what he seeks? Or will he find himself on the wrong end of an attack?"