Vaelin kneels the instant he enters the Great Khan’s abode. He does so as a sign of respect. The Khan knows this because it had been his way ever since he slayed Vaelin’s father. A day he remembers well, crushing Nalo’s skull beneath his hammer, coating himself in grey-matter and gore. Part of him wondered if Vaelin understood that he was more of a man than Nalo ever was. Not just in terms of strength, but in his ability to lead.
A stifled, satisfied grunt emerges from the Great Khan’s throat. It is a symbol enough for Vaelin to know that he is to rise. He casts a shadow that looms like a thundercloud as he raises his hand and motions to him. In that same vein the others in the Court, hooded figures all, begin to disappear into the walls as if molding into them. Until finally, it is just the two of them, and Vaelin hopefully stands before him just a few feet away.
The synonym for weakness in his own vocabulary. Despite this warriors from eons ago were said to have come from there. Some of them capable of wiping out the Great Khan without a second thought. Yet as time had gone by they seemed to have weakened. Proven by the Galactic Patrol’s databanks, at least, the few the Imperium has managed to carve their way into.
It is also in those databases that the Great Khan had learned of something else too. That upon that wretched planet lay a Galactic Patrol Agent. A Saiyan by the name of Eschel. One that the Great Khan had put a hit out for a mere moment before Vaelin had come into his Court.
The reason for that is that he had also heard rumors of an Assassin. One known galaxy-wide for getting the job done right. No targets had ever managed to escape his sights. Once he had been given a mission it was his duty to ensure it was complete. The amount of bodies that trailed behind him were numerous, so much so, that it had drawn the Khan’s attention.
“Though you will not go under my banner or that of the Valtraxians.”
Slowly, but surely, the Great Khan began to descend from his throne. He stepped down onto invisible steps that were not truly there. Even so the impact from doing so had been enough to make it seem as if a physical material lay beneath his feet. His mastery of flight and his own Ki, although not as impressive as some throughout the galaxy, almost seemed like a second nature.
Before he descended upon the final few false-steps, the Great Khan waved his hand toward Vaelin. The Black and Purple of his bodysuit changed to the colors of another empire altogether. Where once the Mark of the Khan lied was now that of a Frost Demon. One who had raised the Khan’s ire for taking under his thumb the Hera Clan. The race of teal-skinned warriors might have been useful, destroyers similar to the Valtraxians, fuelled to the brim with power that could be tamed.
“The Empire that Tundra has spawned out of spite of his brother has wrought an unfathomable insolence. One that has raised my ire greatly. Yet I can not strike at him directly. I must first grow stronger, cultivate my power, until I am once again whole.”
The Great Khan’s right hand closed into a tight fist. He felt old pains surge through his body as he attempted to feel his strength. It is nothing like it had been before. Despite this he was still stronger than a majority of his foes throughout the galaxy. To him it was not enough to still the coming end of his Imperium if another threat than the one he sealed away were to arise.
“Upon arrival you will announce yourselves as entities loyal to Tundra’s Empire. You will make your appearance grandiose. Compare your species and all those under his Empire as superior to their own. Then you will make a mockery of Earth and its people.”
Though neither of them had the ability to sense Ki, the pressure of the Great Khan began to build, as he molded his power within him. The wind began to wisp all around him, circling, as if creating a vortex. The wave of dread and despair began to chime out across the planet once more and intensify. Those of weak will were going to feel as if all hope in this realm between realms was hopeless.
He opened his hand and in his palm an orb of golden light began to form. Golden arcs of electricity danced across its surface. Then, slowly but surely, it began to take the form of a spear. Ethereal, bright, standing almost as tall as he did. A weapon worthy to be wielded by the Great Khan.
“The only stipulation is that I want every major city that you come across destroyed. Eradicated to the point of no return. Yet the planet itself must remain unharmed. Do it quickly, do it efficiently, but purposefully leave witnesses to your wrath. If you accomplish this goal you and the Vanguard will be rewarded a hundred times over.”
