Hanasia, Queen of the Saiyans

3.39 The Rebel Visitor

Krämm of Istaal knew his sword would have wounded if not even killed the Emperor. The most obvious proof: he had prevented the attack! Whereas for the others, he had endured them as if they were nothing.

Seeing his swords just two inches away from his body, paralysed by an immense strength, it was the worst sort of despair. Krämm had failed, the whole operation had failed. What was going to happen now? Was Blizzard going to kill everyone? Or allow the rest of his troops to get killed off (the members of the court were now largely outnumbered, and the death of Dijicharate put their level quite low). On that note, many had recognized the fearsome unyielding paladin, the undefeated warrior, Krämm of Istaal. They knew they were outclassed.

But the fear amongst the warriors of the court was nothing compared to that of the rebels, who not only had seen their plan fail, now only counted their last seconds of life on the goodwill of the Emperor. Run away? It was totally futile.

The imperceptible movement of the body of Blizzard informed all that the second-long truce was over. Was he going to reseat himself, and allow the rest of his soldiers to be massacred, or the rebels escape, or was he going to attack, and butcher them all, his own soldiers included perhaps?

The Emperor's eyes shined and Krämm understood that the latter option imposed itself, and that he would be the first to die.

Two lasers of maddening power departed from the eyes of the divine monarque, passing through at two different points Krämm's chest, and then the roof, and then all the superior floors of the palace, and then the sky.

★★★

The atmosphere was heavy at the Tsuful headquarters. The spatial arena was easy to track, and it would be here in less than half a day. And they main weapon was still bedded.

The follow-up conversations were hardly reassuring:

— How are things progressing?

— Well, she's developing cancers.

— Several?

— One or two per vital organ.

Chiin-Lee was heading towards her office in her floating chair when a beep indicated her of an important message. She received it and her seat changed direction without her having asked for it to.

— We have a guest! Come greet him on the terrace.

Her chair was already heading in that direction. She'd have rather the change happen after they had told her why, but the simple fact that she had accepted the message was enough. Information continued to stream from the communication device.

— It's an important fighter from the rebellion. Bourgo. He's the Namekian.

Namek... that rang a bell... Oh yes, those near-mythical beings of mysterious origin that were loaded with magical powers. Some hours before the arrival of the enemy, he'd surely be a precious aid.

On the large terrace where transport ships sometimes landed, many Tsufuls had already gathered. A one-manned vessel, though of great size, was slowly landing where there was still space. Chiin-Lee told herself, with reason, that the vessel wasn't a leisure ship, given it's build and that there was only one seated place. It was a racing ship. A sort of space Formula 1.

The cockpit opened and the green alien got up from his seat. It did it without difficulty, but still needed a slight effort. One hundred meters per second squared, it was always an impressive gravity. As he had expected under such an environment, the beings that greeted him were small and massive. Now that he thought of it, the warrior on the video was too slim for such a gravity. It was one of the weird aspects of these Saiyans who had the body for low gravity on a planet with a high gravity. They had in them a powerful strength to hold onto such absurdity.