Chapter 3
CV12Hornet
Riter.
- Location
- Tacoma, Washington
Chapter 3: Logistics
AN: Just a reminder that, by necessity, I am taking quite a few liberties with many of the relationships here. Toriyama was very bad about giving us details on a lot of the relationships in the series, leaving us fanfic writers to fill in the gaps. Let me tell ya, it's not easy.
"I will ask you only one more time. Who killed my son?"
Privately, King Cold wished he could just blow up this damn rock and be done with it, but the old coot in front of him had stubbornly refused to divulge any information despite Cold spending a solid hour killing Namekians in front of him and repeating the question. Hopefully, the squirming child held by the neck in his hands would persuade the damn slug.
"I will not," Muri growled, where he was held kneeling to the ground by two of Cold's soldiers. "We have our honor, and I will not sully it by betraying our saviors to the likes of you!"
Cold sighed and idly snapped the child's neck, though not before noting the defiant glare it had been shooting at him.
"I see my efforts are wasted on you," Cold sighed, dropping the Namekian child to the ground. "Men! Return to the ship. I shall follow soon."
Both soldiers saluted, and took off for orbit, where his ship floated. Cold gave it a couple of minutes, before silently rising into the air and conjuring up a Death Ball on one finger. A careless flick of his wrist sent the ball into the planet below, burrowing beneath the crust and then exploding, turning Planet Namek into a new asteroid field.
And yet… Cold didn't feel the satisfaction he usually did from blowing up a planet. Most likely it was the still-defiant glare on that old Namekian's face, even as his race's doom destroyed his world.
Letting out a tsk of annoyance, Cold took flight back to his ship, entering the hanger bay in the bottom. Soldiers and technicians scattered in his wake as he made for the bridge, and work paused for just the barest of seconds when he arrived.
As Cold sat himself down on his throne, most of the bridge personnel went back to work. Only one had the courage to approach the towering Frost Demon.
"Your Majesty," Harkon stated, kneeling and bowing his head respectfully. "I bring news from Cooler."
Harkon was one of Cold's Generals, four soldiers with a power level north of 100,000 and proven command and administrative skill. Each commanded a quarter of Cold's army, and were called upon for the more difficult pacification campaigns, whether against new discoveries or revolts. As a result, all four had a fearsome reputation, often able to induce a planet to surrender just by the knowledge that they were there.
Harkon, specifically, was a Shongairi, a rather canine-esque species with fur, digitigrade legs, and long snouts. His fur was dark grey streaked with silver, and predatory yellow eyes gleamed from under his brow. His uniform consisted of long undersuit pants and the standard gloves and boots, with a Ginyu-style armor on top.
"Oh?" Cold said, perking up slightly. "I do hope he's had better luck than I. It would be a… shame to let Freeza's murderer get away due to lack of information."
Harkon didn't flinch as the glass observation blister cracked suddenly. "He certainly found something, your Majesty," he stated, choosing his words with care. "Apparently he had his Armored Squadron transmit the visual data via their scouters, because when his ship arrived there was a wealth of information aboard. Lord Cooler, sadly, was not on board, nor was the Armored Squadron."
Gravity seemed to almost increase five-fold as Cold's power flared at that news.
"Not on board, you say," Cold stated, his voice icier than the void outside the ship, but his face unchanged. "And what did this data show?"
Harkon couldn't help but sweat a little at his liege-lord's behavior. "A Saiyan, your Majesty," he replied. "Cooler was facing off against a Saiyan. A very powerful one. On a planet called Earth; I believe it was on one of the lists for possible sale, pending a cleaning job."
Gravity returned to normal as Cold withdrew his power. "A Super Saiyan," Cold spat. "I should have suspected. Freeza might have gotten caught off guard, but not Cooler, and only a Super Saiyan could have killed them both."
King Cold fell into a contemplative silence. The entire bridge crew held their breath for several tense minutes before their king spoke again.
"Tell your fellow Generals to drop what they're doing and meet us at our destination, Harkon," he ordered.
"All of them, your majesty?" the wolf-like alien confirmed. "That will take several months."
"Good," Cold said. "If I am to face off against a Super Saiyan, I must prepare. Set a course for Planet Freeza 18, it has the facilities I need."
Harkon frowned. Planet Freeza 18 was a ball of ice, inhabited only by some researchers and an orbital refueling station. Ah well, his was not to wonder why.
"At once, your majesty."
Cold's ship rapidly accelerated to light speed, not knowing that they were being watched.
~o~
It was a subdued group that flew back to Mt. Paozu. Gohan kept absentmindedly rubbing at his gut where Salza had stabbed him, Goku kept glancing back at his son, matched by equally concerned glances in his direction by Piccolo, and Krillin was deep in thought. Hell, even Oolong was quiet, mostly due to being safely inside his aircar, which had somehow survived the battle unscathed.
As such, King Kai calling Goku out of the blue was a somewhat welcome reprieve.
"Goku! I only just checked Earth, what happened?!"
"This guy named Cooler tried to kill us," Goku telepathically replied. "Said he was Freeza's brother."
"Damnation!" King Kai spat. "Well, there goes that plan."
Goku frowned. "Plan?" he demanded. "What plan?"
The saiyan got the distinct impression that his old master was embarrassed. "The plan to keep the rest of Freeza's family from finding you!" came the response. "Ugh, Freeza was supposed to disappear with no clues, leading them on a wild goose chase across the galaxy. Either they'd never find you, or you'd get strong enough in the intervening years to kick their asses. Well, nothing for it, so I suppose I'd better tell you. King Cold is almost certainly heading to Earth now."
For some reason, that name sparked a frisson of cold dread that ran down Goku's spine. He was vaguely aware of his companions sending him concerned glances, but ignored them in favor of King Kai.
"Alright, how strong is he and when is he getting here?" Goku immediately asked.
"... Really?" came the response. "No questions about his relation to Freeza?"
"Doesn't matter. What matters is that he's coming, and we need to prepare. So, how strong is he?" Goku retorted.
"... Point. I'm afraid I can't help you much on either front. I know he's stronger than both Freeza and Cooler, but that's it, and I don't know how long it will take for his forces to assemble. A month, at the least, but almost certainly more."
King Kai chuckled grimly at the shock that rippled through the telepathic link. "Oh, yes. King Cold is of the 'throw minions at the problem' school of empire management. Problem is that he's got enough minions to make it work."
Goku sighed and closed his eyes. No rest for the weary, then. "Thank you, King Kai."
"No problem, Goku. Talk to me if you need anything!"
"Dad?" Gohan asked nervously as King Kai ended the talk. "What's wrong?"
"I'll tell you when we get home, Gohan," Goku sighed. "This is something we all need to hear."
Now the flight was even more awkward, though thankfully it was the last leg and thusmercifully short. All four touched down outside of the Son house, Oolong's aircar landing shortly afterward.
"Oh, you're home early," Chi-Chi stated as she stepped out of the house. "Did something go wro-"
She froze, taking in the tattered state of Goku and Gohan's clothing, as well as Piccolo's presence.
"W-What happened to you?" she numbly breathed.
"We were attacked," Goku grimly stated. "Freeza's brother, Cooler. He and his men almost killed both me and Gohan."
Chi-Chi's eyes zeroed in on the ragged hole in the stomach of Gohan's gi, her mind connecting the dots. She slumped to the ground, shivering, prompting Goku to walk up to her and hug her close to him. Muffled sobs sounded out, her husband stroking her hair and back. He was aware of the rest of the group heading inside, but Chi-Chi took priority right now.
"Sssh, Chi-Chi. We're alive. We're fine," he said soothingly, over and over. Eventually, the sobs quieted, the shaking stopped, and she pulled back from the embrace.
"O-Oh God…" she breathed. "Freeza's brother… does he have any more family?"
"Yes," Goku replied simply.
"Alright," Chi-Chi said, rubbing her eyes and standing. "Let's go inside and talk to the others. We need to discuss training."
Goku nodded, and took Chi-Chi's hand. The two went back into the house, finding Gohan, Krillin, and Oolong at the table, silently nursing cups of hot chocolate; Piccolo was leaning against one wall, looking pained.
"Are you alright, Mom?" Gohan asked as they walked in.
"No, but I can manage," she replied. "Goku, you have something to tell us?"
Goku nodded, and stepped forward. "Cooler wasn't the only relative Freeza had," he announced. "There's at least one more: King Cold. King Kai just told me that he's coming to Earth, likely with an army in tow. And that he's stronger than both Freeza and Cooler."
"I'm fighting!" Gohan immediately announced. "Cooler… he-he could have attacked us here. At home. And a fight like that would have killed you by accident, Mom." His fists clenched, cracking the mug he was holding. "I won't let that happen."
"You're… you're right, Gohan," Chi-Chi reluctantly agreed, prompting everyone in the room besides Goku to look at her in shock. "I-I don't want you to fight, but… I think the only way for you to be safe is for you to be strong."
Gohan gaped for a moment before rushing forward and wrapping her up in a hug. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"
"Gohan!" she squeaked. "Can't… breathe!"
"Oh! Sorry, Mom…" Gohan muttered, floating away sheepishly.
"We'll need to alert everyone else," Piccolo stated.
"I can tell Bulma and Yamcha," Oolong replied dismissively. "You guys're going to have to find Tenshinhan and Chiaotzu on your own, though. Those guys have practically vanished off the face of the Earth!"
"Piccolo, you'll need to handle Gohan's training, at least at first," Goku decided. "I need to master the Super Saiyan. That leaves Krillin to-"
The Saiyan blinked, realising that at some point Krillin had left. "Krillin?"
~o~
Krillin sighed again as he flew over the ocean towards the Turtle House. He felt a little bad about leaving Goku and the rest hanging like that, but… honestly? It probably didn't matter. He'd fight, of course, but if King Cold really was stronger than Freeza, he'd never make a dent.
These feelings of inadequacy weren't new, of course. They'd been lurking in the back of the martial artist's mind since the 23rd Budokai. Piccolo had been so far out of his league it wasn't even funny, and while he'd kind of ended up making it his business to do well against people way out of his league, it was liable to get him killed sooner rather than later. And he was painfully aware that the Dragon Balls weren't going to be able to bring him back anymore.
It all came down to that question. What could he do? The answer he came up with was always "not much."
When he finally came up on the Turtle House, he didn't go inside. Instead, he sat on the beach, watching the stars, and eventually the sunrise. By the time he felt Master Roshi sit down next to him, it was already morning.
"Something on your mind, hmm?" the old man wondered. "Perhaps that new video I found under your-"
"Master Roshi!" Krillin exclaimed, his face red.
"Ho ho ho, nothing to be ashamed about, lad!" Roshi chuckled, alecherous grin on his face. "I remember being that age, only back in my day we didn't have videos!" The martial arts master laughed a few seconds more before sobering up. "But I don't think that's what's actually on your mind."
"No," Krillin sighed. "It's this King Cold guy Goku told us about. Yet another threat against the Earth. I just…"
Roshi stayed silent, waiting for his student to finish the thought.
Finally, Krillin fell on his back, eyes going up to the sky. "I don't want to be useless. And… I'm so far behind already. What can I really contribute?"
For a moment, both martial artists were silent, before Roshi stood up and held his hand out to Krillin.
"Let me show you something that might be able to help," he said as he hauled Krillin to his feet.
Turning out to sea, Roshi slipped off his sunglasses and clapped his hands together. Veins popped up on his forehead and arms as he concentrated, Krillin's eyebrows rising at the amount of ki concentrated between his hands. After a few seconds, Roshi's hands spread apart, ki crackling between them.
"Bankoku Bikkuri Shou!" he shouted, the energy shooting out like a lightning bolt.
And, much like a lightning bolt, it fizzled after a few hundred yards.
"Eheheheheh," Roshi sheepishly laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "It's more impressive when you hit something with it."
"No, that's amazing!" Krillin exclaimed. "One of Cooler's goons used a similar technique! I'd be happy to learn it, Master Roshi. Though… why me?
"Why you?" Roshi parrotted, bewildered, as he slipped his sunglasses on. "You're my student! I have every right to teach you my techniques!"
"No, I mean, why not Goku or Yamcha?" Krillin asked again. "They're your students, too."
"Yes, they are, but the Turtle School is not the core of their skills," Roshi answered. "Goku has had so many more masters, he's moved quite away from my original teachings into some sort of...synthesis. It's really quite impressive. And Yamcha already had his own style when I taught him; I merely helped him refine it. Besides, neither of them have been living with me for the past decade or so."
Krillin gaped for a second, before bowing respectfully.
"I thank you for your tutelage, master," he humbly stated.
"Now, now, none of that!" Roshi waved off, turning and walking back to the house. "C'mon, we can start in the afternoon. In the meantime, you've gotta show me that video!"
Krillin groaned, but good-naturedly. This was the way it was with Master Roshi, after all. And honestly, some boring old unwinding might be just what the doctor ordered, at least for now.
~o~
Tenshinhan sighed as Piccolo flew off. More invaders; it was like the Saiyans all over again.
That connection made him flinch as it dredged up memories. Memories of fighting - and dying - against an unstoppable force.
Still, they wouldn't all be fighting Cold at once, unlike against Nappa. Most likely the army Piccolo had mentioned would be dispersing to attack targets all over the world, and those were opponents he could face.
He felt more than saw Chiaotzu float up next to him. "Tenshinhan? What did Piccolo say?"
"We're going to be under attack again soon," the martial artist replied grimly. "This time it's Freeza's father or something." His face drew up in a grimace. "Chiaotzu, I really think you should sit this one out."
"No!" Chiaotzu suddenly shouted, causing Tenshinhan to take a step back in surprise. "I-I'm sick of being useless! Of-Of dying while everyone else fights! I'm going to train, and I'm going to join this fight, and I'm going to help!"
As Tenshinhan stared into his partner's face, he found something he hadn't ever seen: a competitive fire, a drive. Chiaotzu had never shared his passion for martial arts, for developing his skills and power for their own sake. And though he had been interested in the competition in their little circle at first, he hadn't ever taken to it with the same enthusiasm the rest did. He just… coasted.
And looking at Chiaotzu's eyes, Tenshinhan found himself filled with pity for whoever was going to fight him.
"You have an idea?" he guessed.
Chiaotzu grinned, before speaking telepathically. "I've been kind of neglecting this side of my skills, haven't I?"
To punctuate the point, Chiaotzu picked up a rock with his telekinesis. Then another, and another, and soon a hundred rocks were swirling around him, each in a slightly different pattern. The level of control necessary was… dizzying, he had to admit.
"Krillin mentioned a member of the Ginyu force, far weaker than the rest but with the psychic powers to compete," he continued, sending one of the rocks flying into a nearby bluff with enough force to shatter it utterly. "This… This is what I'm good at, Tien. And now I know I can develop it to fight at a higher level."
Tenshinhan continued staring for a moment, then grinned. "Yeah, I think that'll work," he agreed. "Spars before lunch?" Chiaotzu nodded. "Alright. You work on that, I think I'll pester King Kai a bit about that Spirit Bomb technique he mentioned."
~o~
Bulma glanced up from where she was tinkering on something - the technology her father had salvaged while rebuilding Goku's spaceship was fascinating! - when she heard an aircar touch down outside. That was odd; Oolong was supposed to have been with Goku and Krillin for another day, at least.
Curious, the scientist stood, wincing at her sore muscles protesting the action, and climbed down the stairs. She found Yamcha already there as Oolong disembarked from the air car, looking uncharacteristically grave.
"So, who died?" Yamcha asked jokingly.
"Freeza's brother," Oolong casually stated, grinning as Yamcha and Bulma dropped their jaws in horrified shock. "Yeah, that was about everyone else's reaction, too. And now we've got what I'm pretty sure is his father coming to Earth to kill us all."
The silence that followed was deafening.
"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I need a goddamn beer," Oolong remarked, strolling off into the kitchen. "Or maybe something stronger."
Bulma and Yamcha stayed standing in gape-mouthed shock for another few minutes before both staggered over to the nearest couch and plopped down on it.
"So…" Yamcha breathed. "That's a thing that's going to happen."
"Y-Yeah…" Bulma agreed. She was silent for a moment before looking up at Yamcha. "Are you going to fight?"
The ex-bandit was quiet as he digested that thought. Did he want to fight? A better question might be, what could he contribute? Against Vegeta and Nappa, he'd died before even getting to fight them. He'd sat out the Piccolo fight with a broken leg. And, of course, three tournaments, three straight first-round exits.
Something within him flared to life as he thought of those defeats. And just as quickly, it was tempered by thoughts of the woman next to him, that he loved. Maybe. It could be kind of unclear sometimes. And then, Yamcha was struck by a realization: he was half-assing martial arts, and he was half-assing his relationship with Bulma. How many times had they spent months, even years apart, because he was training? Or dead? How often had he slacked off to be with Bulma, rather than further his skills?
As the saying went, "Whole-ass one thing instead of half-assing two things." How Goku juggled family and martial arts training as well as he did was beyond him.
"Bulma…" he said softly. "How long have we been dating?"
She blinked. "What?"
"How long have we been dating?" he repeated.
"Uh…" Bulma frowned as she worked out the years. "About… twelve and a half years? Off and on, of course."
"And how far have we progressed in our relationship since then?" Yamcha asked, holding up his hand. "Don't answer that, we both know the answer. At some point, if we want this relationship to work, then we need to commit. Both of us. And if we can't… then perhaps it wasn't meant to be."
"Yamcha…" Bulma breathed in numb shock. "I-"
"Take your time," Yamcha interrupted. "This isn't a decision you can rush. Besides, I've got a fight to train for."
And with that, he got up and started walking for one of the gravity rooms Dr. Briefs had installed recently, leaving Bulma behind, gaping at his back. She tried to say something, to do something… but she did nothing. And then he was gone.
Shortly after he left, Bulma got up and made a beeline for the small wine rack her parents kept for the rare occasion they had formal guests over. Hopefully at least some of it wasn't vinegar, because she needed something a bit stronger than Oolong's beer at the moment.
~o~
Son Goku heaved a deep sigh as he broke out of his meditation. Frustrating, summoning up the Super Saiyan on demand. But necessary if he was to have any chance against King Cold.
Opening his eyes, he was surprised to find the sun already starting to set. Naturally, his stomach chose that moment to voice its displeasure, and Goku let out a low chuckle. Ah well, it wouldn't hurt to call it a day. He had a month, at minimum, to figure this out.
Standing up and stretching out the kinks in his muscles, Goku tensed his legs to take off for home, when he felt a familiar ki… wobbling through the air, for lack of a better term.
"Bulma?" he wondered, taking off toward where he could feel her ki signature.
He quickly caught up to the erratically flying aircar, pulling up alongside it. A glance into the cockpit revealed Bulma, and the luminescent blush and glazed eyes of the truly sloshed. Well, that explained the erratic flying.
Sighing, Goku dipped under Bulma's aircar and grabbed it, stabilizing the flight, before turning for his house. It was closer than West City, after all.
Less than fifteen minutes later, the aircar was safely capsulized and Bulma was tucked into the spare bed, usually used when Gyu-Mao came to visit. After all, she had been quite unconscious by the time they arrived. As Goku softly closed the door, he sensed Chi-Chi behind him, a mix of exasperation and concern leaking into her ki.
"I can't believe Bulma would do something so… reckless!" Chi-Chi said, before rolling her eyes as her husband opened his mouth to object. "Yes, yes, you've told me all about what you and her got up to in your youth, but I was under the impression she'd put those days behind her!"
"Yeah," Goku agreed, sending a bewildered glance behind him. "I guess we'll just have to wait until morning. Has Gohan gone to bed already?"
"Yup!" Chi-Chi replied, beaming. "I was worried about that Piccolo influencing my boy, or hurting him, but they're just working on form, and he seems to be having a great time!"
Goku chuckled, silently deciding not to tell Chi-Chi about the year Piccolo and Gohan had spent together training for the Saiyans…
~o~
Morning came to Bulma in the form of a hundred-man marching band in her head. Oh, wait, no, that was just the birds chirping outside and aggravating her hangover.
With nothing better to do - she couldn't go back to sleep, and her inner ear was loudly protesting any attempt to get up - she tried to remember what had happened. She was tinkering… and then Oolong came back early… and then-
Right. King Cold. Yamcha. And… and that…
She was shaken out of her musings by a knock at the door, followed shortly by Goku poking his head in.
"Hey," he said, jabbing his thumb out the door. "We've got some rice and orange juice out here, if you're up to it. And if you're not, I can bring it in."
"Mmmph…" Bulma groaned into her pillow.
"Got it," Goku nodded, ducking out the door. Bulma used the short time he was gone to wiggle herself into something vaguely resembling a seated position, one that didn't result in an intensifying of the dizziness.
When Goku returned, she took one look at the bowl of rice and grabbed the tray out of his hands, immediately tearing into the food. She was vaguely aware of Goku chuckling, likely at her spot-on imitation of his own feeding habits, but she didn't stop. The first bite had reminded her how she hadn't eaten dinner the previous night, and she was starving. And though it was just plain rice, she had a feeling her stomach wouldn't appreciate anything richer.
"Hey, Bulma?"
The inventor paused mid-bite, glancing up at her host. "Yeah?" she mumbled around her mouthful of rice.
"What were you doing flying out here drunk?"
She swallowed and grimaced, debating whether to tell him.
"I… Yamcha… well, he basically gave me an ultimatum. Kinda. Gah!" Bulma threw her hands up in the air, still not stirring from her position on the bed. "I don't know! He's never done anything like this! All I know is he wants me to make a decision on our-!"
She paused, noticing that Goku looked intensely uncomfortable.
"What's wrong?"
"I…" he hedged, rubbing the back of his head. "I think you should talk to Chi-Chi about this, not me."
Looking at the thoroughly bewildered expression on the Saiyan's face, Bulma had to agree. Taking pity on her friend, she nodded and said, "Yeah, I think that would be better."
Goku immediately scurried out of the room, leaving Bulma to giggle at his obvious discomfort. That done, she turned back to the food, and was just finishing it off when Chi-Chi walked in.
"Goku mentioned relationship problems?" Chi-Chi confirmed. "In between running outside as fast as he could, I mean."
"Yeah," Bulma nodded. "It started yesterday after Oolong got back…"
It didn't take long for her to tell the story. Of learning about King Cold, of Yamcha presenting the decision, of her need to try and forget that, which had led to a nasty bout of drinking… all of it up until she got into her aircar. Things got fuzzy there.
"Hmm..." Chi-Chi hummed. "Yamcha's on the passive side, isn't he? I bet his declaration caught you completely by surprise."
"Yeah, it did…" Bulma sighed. "Which just speaks volumes, doesn't it? Oh, what should I do?"
"Oh, that's simple," Chi-Chi replied. "You need to ask yourself if your relationship with Yamcha is worth the warts."
Bulma waited for more, but nothing came. "That's it?" she wondered.
"Only you can decide if he's worth it or not," Chi-Chi said. "You're a smart woman, Bulma, much smarter than me. You'll figure it out." Her expression sobered, and several lines seemed to spontaneously appear on her face. "I'm lucky Goku's so easygoing and forgiving. I don't think I'd handle your situation as well as you have."
Bulma gave the other woman a confused look. "I got drunk and went driving in my aircar."
"And that ruins my point… how?"
"Right…" Bulma stated slowly. Best not to think about the implications of that statement. Did she want to stay with Yamcha, or not? Would it even matter after King Cold came through?
At that thought, Bulma's fists clenched. Maybe she wasn't a fighter, but she could do something against the invaders! Science would provide a means!
Filled with new resolve, Bulma swung her legs out and tried to stand up. Keyword being tried. The minute she was on her feet, the room started swaying and her nearly-forgotten headache redoubled.
"Okay, maybe I should stay in bed for a few more hours…" she muttered as Chi-Chi caught her and helped ease her down.
~o~
General Harkon gazed down at the frozen Planet Freeza 18 from the observation blister of the bridge. Once, the ice cap had been a pristine surface almost as smooth as glass. Now, it varied between shattered mountains and thin plains of ice due to the repeated bursts of power King Cold had produced in the months they'd been in orbit. Thank God the refueling station had its own entertainment, otherwise those bursts would have been all they had to stave off boredom. That, and the other generals arriving. As it was, they were all dealing with an increasing number of disciplinary issues.
Where was he? Oh, yes, power. He had no idea what King Cold was doing down there, but the power on display boggled the mind. The planet-wide devastation? A side effect. Whatever his king was doing, it made it quite clear that this "Super Saiyan" stood no chance.
"General Harkon!" one of the bridge crew spoke up, breaking him from his musings. "His Majesty is returning!"
"Very well," he stated, rising out of his seat. "I shall go to greet him. Continue your duties."
The bridge crew nodded and went back to work as their General marched for the central hanger. He got there just in time to see Cold float up into the ship, completely naked and white with purple gems instead of the usual horned form Harkon was used to.
"You look… different, your Majesty," Harkon said carefully, even as he ducked into a respectful bow. "Your final form, I assume?"
"Yes," Cold replied. "I now have complete control over it. Are the other generals here?"
"Yes, your Majesty."
"All ships are to proceed to Earth, then," Cold ordered, sweeping past Harkon. "We have spent enough time preparing."
"Yes, your Majesty," Harkon replied as he followed. "Your Majesty, if I may… where are you going now?"
Cold paused, and shot a confused look back at the General. "Why, to get new armor fitted, of course," Cold stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Of course, sire," Harkon replied, bowing again. As he stood from the bow, he tapped his scouter. "Send the course to the other Generals, and tell them that we go now."
"Yes, General."
A few seconds later, Harkon felt the ship vibrate as it went to FTL speeds. In one month they'd reach Earth; and then nothing would stop them from destroying any resistance.
