Prologue

Chapter 1: Terms

A/N: Hey! New story. The idea came to me and I was super excited to write it. As I'm currently writing Strength of Many as my primary project, I have no set schedule for how often I'll update this fic. Let it be known that chapter updates will be far and few between!

Age 731, Planet Vegeta

The ground chosen as the neutral ground between the Saiyans and the invaders from space was the largest vessel the aliens owned. As King Vegeta stepped into an odd, disc-shaped vessel, he was sorely reminded of this fact. I could hardly call this negotiating from a position of power...

In the span of a day these invaders with their strange, jutting armor and mottled skin of every shade had overrun the burgeoning Saiyan settlements built on the ruins of Tuffle metropolises before them, displacing or killing thousands of his kind. The worst thing about it all was that it wasn't even close - his forces were in full retreat across the planet. The Tuffles were one thing, but this?... He shook his head. This may be beyond us...

A hand clapped down on King Vegeta's shoulder. 'My King, are you alright?' Gerkin - his faithful lieutenant - asked.

'Yes…' King Vegeta stroked his goatee in an effort to calm himself. 'I'm alright…'

The lift came to an abrupt stop, dumping them into a small antechamber that seemed to have been converted from a cargo bay into a reception room. A variety of different aliens milled around on the room's sides, each one running back and forth with papers or information devices in their hands. King Vegeta noticed that they all had the same translation units the Saiyans had been provided with tied around their necks.

In the center of the room, even though King Vegeta lacked any measurement device on his person to confirm it, lurked a monstrously powerful being, intimidating enough through its mannerisms and aura to send literal chills down his spine. Seated in a floating chair, they ran their delighted eyes over the King and his meager entourage. Small horns protruded from the alien's head, which was dominated by a round purple plate-like surface that shone in the bright light of the spaceship. Tan shoulder pads jutted out horizontally from the alien's body, which would have looked comical on any other vastly weaker being.

A turquoise alien to the seated one's right with hair bound into a ponytail gracefully moved to the side and waved towards his apparent master. 'You are now standing in the presence of Lord Frieza, Emperor of all the known galaxy. Kneel.'

'Err - what?' one of the King's entourage sputtered out. 'We were told -'

'I said,' the alien said more forcefully, 'kneel.'

Fuming at his subordinate, King Vegeta very quickly fell to one knee, followed soon after by the rest of his entourage. Someone to kill if I'm still alive by the end of this!...

Unseen but heard by King Vegeta, Frieza clapped. 'Thank you, Zarbon. That will be all. Rise, please.'

Complying, they did so.

'Now… to whom am I speaking to?'

King Vegeta cleared his throat, then said with a grizzled authority, 'I am King Vegeta of the Saiyans. My voice, as one, speaks for all.'

'King Vegeta, pleased to make the acquaintance.' Frieza stated, his polite words not quite concealing something sinister lurking beneath.

'I understand that this is a negotiation?'

'Indeed it is. I'm not one to mince words,' Frieza stated, his eyes seeming to inspect every one of the Saiyans before him, 'so I'll get straight to the point. Any other planet that so forcefully opposed my army would have been wiped clean of any and all life. Historically, resisting my desires has not boded well for my enemies…'

King Vegeta gulped - and was sure every other person in the room heard it.

Amused, Frieza continued. 'But I seem to have found something special on this backwater planet.' Frieza raised one arm and then slowly leveled a finger at King Vegeta's chest. 'You.'

The gesture was strangely terrifying to King Vegeta. 'Me - me?' he said, bewildered.

'Oh, don't be so egotistical,' Frieza replied playfully, letting his arm slacken. 'I mean your species. Your race.' Frieza snapped his fingers, causing a frightened technician to run up to King Vegeta's side. The technician presented to King Vegeta a series of graphs, labeled in some unreadable alien language. 'Over the past day, my scientists have been compiling huge amounts of data on your race, the… what are you?'

'We... call ourselves the Saiyans,' King Vegeta reminded.

'The Saiyans,' Frieza repeated, as if he was accommodating the word into his vocabulary. 'Hmm. Well, imagine my surprise when I discovered the Saiyans have a higher average power level than the vast majority of soldiers in my army.'

'Really?' King Vegeta examined the graphs more closely. The bar on the right was taller than the left one. A lot taller. 'Is that so?'

'Yes… so I want you to understand something.' Frieza snapped his fingers again, which prompted the technician to yank the graphs out of King Vegeta's hand. 'You see… I don't mind destroying a planet full of enemies. But destroying a planet full of allies? Now, that would be a waste. I so dislike efficiency when running my domain. Do you understand?'

'I… think so, yes.' Internally, King Vegeta blanked for a moment. This would likely be his only chance to make his diplomatic appeal, judging from how their conversation had gone so far. He would have to make it count. 'I understand that, despite the bloodshed that has been spilled over the past day, there is still a chance for reconciliation between our people,' he advocated, feeling the sensation of tens of eyes staring at him. 'I am sure that we would prefer cooperation over the… alternative.'

'Very good!' Frieza said jovially, making it unclear whether he was genuinely happy or if he had intended to insult King Vegeta. 'I am glad we have a similar view on the matter. Thus, I offer my terms - fold your people into my army, and I shall let this planet continue to exist.'

Murmuring broke out among King Vegeta's entourage. 'Could he be serious?... No-one is strong enough to destroy an entire planet… we're getting a raw deal -'

The King held up one hand, silencing them. 'If I understand you correctly, you wish to use the Saiyans as soldiers in your army?'

'More like mercenaries. I will assign to you contracts that you may distribute among your warriors at your discretion. My scientists and engineers will descend on this planet and grant your people the latest technology my empire has to offer to prepare your people to voyage across the galaxy in fulfillment of their duties. Effectively, I offer to the Saiyans a privileged position within my realm.'

King Vegeta thought on this offer. It would be unorthodox to accept the first offer made in a negotiation, but then again, the pretense of this being anything but a surrender was a useless fiction to cling to. Intuitively, he did desire to be on the receiving end of Frieza's ire. 'These terms are acceptable,' King Vegeta announced. 'The Saiyans love to fight, and would have no problem traveling to new planets in search of worthy opponents - though I ask that we would be free to live as we please on Planet Vegeta.'

'Hmm?' Frieza looked at King Vegeta quizzically. 'An odd request. But not unheard of. You seek to remain King?...'

'I only wish to retain the customs of our culture. Our monarchy is but one part of that.'

'Fair enough. I will grant it. Though…'

A pang of fear gripped King Vegeta. 'Though… what?'

'I realize that I do not know much about the Saiyans beyond the information you've provided to me today,' Frieza said, his gaze never lifting from King Vegeta, 'and even that information could be a bald-faced lie. Why should I believe the word of the first representative I speak to from a race I've never encountered? Perhaps you wish to mislead me to gather your forces and make an attempt on my life? Or maybe you conspire with my enemies and a fleet of alien warlords rush to this planet in your defense as we speak?' Frieza's eyes narrowed. 'Thus, I wonder: what can I anchor my trust in you to?'

Frieza paused, letting a suffocating silence momentarily descend on the room. King Vegeta felt like he was choking. Certainly he's negotiated before… what is he trying to achieve?

'Luckily,' Frieza continued, 'I have watched you as a leader. It is clear that your subjects respect you.' Frieza's gaze then began to roam the faces of the Saiyans that attended King Vegeta. 'It is telling when a ruler's servants display such deference to their liege. Though - ' Frieza suddenly swept his eyes at someone to King Vegeta's left, ' - what do you plan to do to him as punishment for his earlier outburst?'

King Vegeta turned. Before he had had a guess as to who had interrupted him; now he had a face. Ruka visibly squirmed under King Vegeta's heavy gaze. 'My King, I only expressed our collective frustration at being treated like underlings by these aliens! Our people have not surrendered the will to fight! We would rather die before we become slaves to an alien overlord! Surely you think the same!'

King Vegeta frowned. Ruka had been with him since the very beginning of the war with the Tuffles - but the past was the past. In the present, Ruka has sealed his own fate. 'I will kill him myself once we are done here,' King Vegeta said authoritatively, causing Ruka to flinch. 'Guards, seize him and take him outside.'

A mass of bodies suddenly descended on Ruka, entangling the Saiyan before he could say anything more. A few seconds later, he was dragged against his will to the lift and then dropped out of sight.

'Good,' Frieza said, a sickly sweet smile covering his face. 'Very good. I see now that not only do we agree with each other, but we also understand each other.'

'I am glad.' King Vegeta felt a trickle of sweat run down his forehead. Things had gone better than he could have hoped; why, then, did he feel such palpable dread? 'Are we agreed, then? Do I have verbal confirmation of a relationship of sorts between us?'

'Yes -' Frieza gestured to Zarbon to his right, who promptly stepped forward. 'Zarbon here will hammer out the fine details with you in the weeks to come. He will also personally oversee my… directive, acting as my representative on this planet.'

'Your directive?' King Vegeta felt another droplet of sweat roll down his neck. 'What do you mean?'

'There is something of a… tradition... within my domain,' Frieza explained. 'I have an eye for talent others would miss. From across the galaxy, I recruit the strongest warriors to serve as my elite.' Frieza's gaze lingered on the King. 'It is unimportant to say any more at this time. But know that a time will come when you must accede to my demands in this regard. And when this time comes, I expect no dissent.'

'I… understand.' King Vegeta said, bowing his head.

'Good,' Frieza's chair suddenly whirred to life. 'Tell your people to stand down. The next wave of people I will send at them will be scientists, not soldiers.' The chair began to rotate and hover out of the room. 'I look forward to what comes of today…' As Frieza left the room, he took over half of the aliens milling around in the room with him.

As the chair disappeared around a corner, Zarbon approached King Vegeta. 'My lord Frieza will be leaving this planet shortly. Thus, my officials and I will need a few minutes to prepare for his departure. I would suggest you and your entourage wait outside for our exit.'

King Vegeta nodded. After Zarbon had walked away to attend to his personnel, Gerkin approached. 'My King? Ruka is waiting outside,' he informed King Vegeta.

Snarling, King Vegeta turned and strode back to the lift. 'Good. I'll kill the fool myself.'

Age 732, Planet Vegeta

King Vegeta's firstborn son, who was born on a dark, stormy night amidst a chorus of fury and sound, had only been alive for a few days before the order came.

It had broken the King's heart. He was still frantically considering his options when the doors to his throne room swung open. Flanked by two bald, green aliens wielding blasters on their right arms, Zarbon strutted into the chamber. 'King Vegeta, a pleasure as always,' he said diplomatically. His eyes then drifted to what looked to be a temporary crib placed next to the throne. 'I see that you have prepared him for transport.' He gave a slight smile. 'Good. Frieza will be pleased to know of your efficient compliance.'

There was a modest number of various Saiyan officials in the room in addition to the King and his son, though most of the court had been dismissed in the previous hour. Some of them aggressively eyed Zarbon and his two soldiers stride farther into the throne room. Intermittently, they glanced to King Vegeta for direction.

He could give none; his hands incessantly wrung themselves. 'I grasp the request made of me… but surely I can discuss this further with Lord Frieza?' King Vegeta asked nervously, his eyes trained on Zarbon. 'Surely you can understand my own shock when this order came not a few hours ago?'

'Oh, I understand perfectly,' Zarbon said, drawing closer. 'You are not the first client ruler to offer a hostage to Lord Frieza, and you won't be the last…'

A few tense seconds passed as the two soldiers planted themselves in the middle of the room as Zarbon glided over to the crib. King Vegeta, hanging around the crib, suddenly put himself in Zarbon's path.

'But… please!' King Vegeta pleaded. 'This demand is too harsh! You would forever separate a first-born son from his father the King?'

Zarbon smiled gleefully. 'Have another child if you're so concerned. As far as I'm concerned, this one will be Frieza's…' A hand dove into the crib- and was gripped at its wrist by King Vegeta.

They struggled for a moment; King Vegeta's face hardened. 'Please! I-'

A single blast of purple left the palm of Zarbon's free hand and impaled the King, piercing clean through his royal armor so carefully crafted by alien armorers. A second later, a corpse collapsed back into the throne.

The surrounding Saiyans froze, terrified at seeing their King so easily executed. Zarbon yanked the Saiyan baby by his tail out of the crib. 'I'll be leaving now,' he announced.

Without any harassment, he, the baby, and the two soldiers left in stunned silence. Blood ran down the throne in thin streams.

Age 733, in a distant stretch of space

A faint buzzing rang throughout Frieza's private quarters. Somewhat annoyed, Frieza wrenched his gaze from the stars rolling past his room's window. 'What is it?' He said out loud.

'My lord,' a soldier's voice spoke from a nearby intercom, 'Zarbon has docked from Planet Vegeta. He wishes to see you.'

'Fine. Send him through.'

There was a quiet shuffle of movement outside the door to Frieza's quarters before the door slid open, revealing Zarbon. He gave a curt bow. 'Lord Frieza.'

'Come now,' Frieza snipped. 'What compelled you to disturb me?'

'Sire… it's incredible.' Zarbon handed over a datapad, no more than a metal outline with a projected screen between it. 'The child taken from King Vegeta is extraordinary.'

Frieza scrolled downwards on the datapad and skimmed the first few pages. A scowl progressively deepened on his face. 'If what I'm reading is correct,' he said, never lifting his gaze towards Zarbon, 'then the power level of King Vegeta's son would be comparable to the strength of my own elites when they were born. More than them, in some cases.'

'That would seem to be the case, sire.'

'This is… unexpected.' He handed the datapad back to Zarbon. 'I now understand why you brought this to my attention.'

'If the matter was any more trivial, I would not have bothered you with it, sire.'

'These tests were done after his father died, correct?'

'Yes. There is no doubt as to their accuracy - I have conducted every examination of the young prince possible. They all say the same thing.'

'Hmm… Zarbon,' Frieza dictated with clear pronunciation, 'you've had a chance to live among these Saiyans for some time. It is clear that the vast majority of them are suited to be nothing more than grunts. But tell me; do you think they could become loyal warriors for my cause?'

'Hard to say, sire,' Zarbon responded. 'if you were asking me about the average Saiyan, I would say no. They're prone to possessing bloated egos and fighting against any authority they don't respect.' Zarbon paused. 'But I don't think that's inherent to every Saiyan. That's probably a trait of their culture more than anything else. They lack… refinement, in a word.'

Frieza's gaze grew distant. 'So you think that if you separate the Saiyan from the Saiyans, they would become more amenable to my authority?...'

'That is what I believe, yes.'

The room fell silent, save for the gentle pulse of the circulated air flowing through the spaceship. Zarbon was accustomed to such silence among his master - it was a sign that Lord Frieza was thinking.

'I trust your judgment, Zarbon,' Frieza decided. 'Keep an eye on any noteworthy births among the Saiyans. Cultivate when the time is right.'

'Of course, sire.' A thought then occurred to Zarbon. 'Are you going to keep calling that Saiyan baby by his Saiyan name, my lord? Should I retain the names of any other Saiyans that I extract?'

'Oh, let them keep whatever names they're assigned.' Frieza took a sip from his glass. 'I'll need something to differentiate the hairy things from one another, after all.'

'Very good, sire.'

Frieza took a moment to set the datapad down and look out at the vast stretch of space before him. 'It's funny how things work out. Who would have thought a royal captive would have become actually useful? Most of the time they're pampered brats that couldn't survive a spanking, much less an actual battle… But this Saiyan one, Vegeta… he might actually be useful! Haha! Hilarious!'

'Very funny, sire.'

'Hmm.' Disinterested by Zarbon's servile response, Frieza turned towards his lieutenant. 'You're dismissed, Zarbon.'

He gave a curt bow before exiting the room, the slick metal door sliding closing behind him.

Gerkin patrolled the length of the throne room, his eyes tracing where King Vegeta's body had lain just a few hours before.

The Kingslayer had absconded with the heir unopposed. A righteous fury shot through Gerkin's veins, which he now let flow unabated after suppressing it earlier. In the seconds after the King had been killed, he nearly flew into a murderous rage against that pretentious turquoise alien- but had been correct not to. Zarbon was beyond his or any other Saiyan's capabilities; to fight him would have been suicide. The new scouters they had received from Frieza made that clear enough.

But to fail… he clenched one hand, shaking. In such a manner!... He had been appointed bodyguard only to stand aside in his King's moment of death. Maybe if he had interceded before things progressed as far as they did, King Vegeta's death could have been avoided… or maybe that would have caused the death of every single person in that room. Nonetheless, he should have tried.

He would not allow himself to lapse in such a way ever again. Not while- Gerkin shook his head, clearing a recurrent thought from his brain. Atonement would come later.

As he lapped the room again, a spot of red caught his attention. Bending down, be ran the tip of his finger across the floor. It came back slick and red. Blood. Our King bled like the rest of us...

'Still skulking around here, are you?' a voice asked from the shadows on the edge of the room.

Gerkin grimaced, wiping his finger clean on one of his armbands. 'Have you finished talking with the council?' he asked, standing.

'More or less. They agree that an heir in captivity cannot ascend to the throne as a prisoner - or worse.'

'Things would be different if the Queen still lived,' Gerkin said bitterly. 'A regent would have been acceptable…'

They fell into silence. After several seconds, the speaker asked, 'Have you began to coordinate our plans?'

'I have already instructed some to investigate what has been done with the Prince. Our penetration of Frieza's empire is limited - it will take some time before we will have a comprehensive system in place to catch all the comings and goings of the heir. I imagine Frieza will whisk him away to some place of his empire far away from here.'

'You care that much about the King's son?' The speaker in the shadows questioned.

'I have failed my King once,' Gerkin replied cooling, turning to the speaker. 'I do not intend to do that twice in one lifetime.'

The speaker grunted. 'So, otherwise, we are agreed as to what must be done?'

'We stall for time,' Gerkin said gruffly. 'However long we can drag this arrangement with Frieza out. When the time comes where we have the strength to oppose him, we act. In the meantime, we spread out our own across the galaxy, just in case.'

'You're that worried about Frieza, huh?' The speaker asked almost casually.

'His strength is monstrous,' Gerkin said harshly, 'and he is unbound by any constraints - if he wishes to destroy this planet in the future, he will.'

A pause. 'I have a brat firstborn with a pretty tiny power. Should I convince Gine to send him away?'

'It's for the best. Can you arrange to sent him to a planet far off any galactic map?'

The speaker stepped out of the shadows, revealing his wild mane of spiky black hair and chuckling. 'Consider it done. In the meantime, you're okay with me being King?'

'None shall oppose you. I will make sure of that.'

They clasped hands. 'To the Saiyan Race.'

'To the Saiyans.'

Age 737, Planet Vegeta

As his ship skated through space with the ease of a comet, Frieza luxuriated in his private chambers. He wasn't in a particularly good mood.

Why does Father get the right to criticize my management? While he has withdrawn himself to the farthest-flung corners of the galaxy, cutting himself off from all the important details of management, I have gone from planet to planet in a never-ending campaign of administration! He huffed. And he says nothing to Cooler! Even as he further tightens his inner circle… By all accounts, the meeting between the three of them had soured his week. Although, Frieza thought, sighing, I guess I should be glad I won't have to meet with them for at least another decade…

Father and Cooler's physical and social reticence does them a disservice. It seems that I alone recognize the need to be accessible to my subjects... Smirking, Frieza turned his attention to the space rushing past the ship outside. Terror and all.

An impetuous paging sound assailed Frieza's senses- sighing, he accepted the communication request.

A hazy image of Zarbon immediately popped up on his screen. 'Sire,' he said, bowing.

'Get on with it,' Frieza growled.

'My lord, I have identified two more candidates, but…'

Frieza imperiously wrinkled his nose. 'But?'

'The Saiyans are growing restless. It seems that their King, Bardock, cares nothing for placating them. There is open talk of a revolt against your rule, not to mention the night-time killings of some of my more vulnerable personnel.'

'What is this unrest in response to?'

'Unclear, sire. Personally, I would characterize it a manifestation of the Saiyans' inherent unruliness.'

Something flickered across Frieza's features. 'Funny. Zarbon,' Frieza said slowly, 'give me your honest opinion: do you think the Saiyans have outlived their usefulness?'

There was a pause. 'I think only you can answer that, sire,' Zarbon replied, his voice garbled by the transmission. 'Their effectiveness as soldiers is undeniable… their loyalty, however, is more circumspect.'

Another pause. 'If you retrieved these two candidates,' Frieza asked, 'what would that bring our numbers up to?'

'Five, sire.'

A cruel smile rose on Frieza' face. 'Prepare the two for transport,' he commanded. 'Then extract them from the planet as fast as possible. Request additional forces for deterrence or even use force if need be. Above all else, deliver to me those two Saiyan babies alive.'

'Very good, sire. Then?'

'Then? I'll deal with the Saiyans myself. Do you understand?'

Zarbon nodded. 'I'll start evacuating non-essential personnel from this planet immediately. Zarbon out.'

A few days later...

Zarbon wasn't requested when Frieza had emerged from the ship to take stock of the raging battle himself. When this happened, the longtime aide to the ruler of most of the known galaxy knew what was coming.

With an air of professional detachment, he watched the Saiyan army swarming the upper atmosphere of Planet Vegeta be either dispersed or consumed by a giant death ball hurtling towards the surface. Zarbon guessed the planet had a few minutes of existence left to its name, if not less.

A pity. He felt torn- in the Saiyans, he had seen potential buried underneath centuries of violent conflict. They couldn't be faulted for being more liable to kill each other than to fight, defeat, and conquer other planets or people. Though perhaps he shouldn't be too broken up about it. I now have the others to oversee, after all...

After some time had passed, Frieza reappeared, floating gracefully back to the ship. A quick hop in and out of an airlock either, and he was walking side by side with Zarbon.

'Shows them what they get,' Frieza said self-assuredly. The frost demon's tail squirreled back and forth behind him - a telltale sign that he was pleased. 'Admittedly, I am impressed by their planning and gall- but no amount of worthless Saiyan bodies thrown at me will slow me down. For all their pitiful effort, the end result was the same…'

'So… it is done?'

'Completely and utterly.'

Their walk took them to Frieza's private chambers. The doors detected them and automatically slid open. As Frieza walked into the room, Zarbon asked, 'My lord… What about any other Saiyans? The ones who weren't on Planet Vegeta, that is.'

'Who cares?' Frieza levitated over to his chair and sat in it. From behind him, Zarbon heard the sound of glassware clinking, followed by a glass of wine levitating over to Frieza's outstretched hand. After a long sip, he spoke again. 'Strike their names from the records. Bar them entry at any PTO outpost. Criminalize their existence. Saiyans who haven't grown up under my thumb are dangerous.' Frieza's eyes wandered over to the vast window covering the entire right side of the chamber. 'Am I clear, Zarbon?' He said, not deigning to look at his underling.

Zarbon ducked his head and nodded. 'Perfectly, sire. It will be done.'

'Good. Leave me.'

Obliging, Zarbon promptly exited the room.

Taking another long drag from his wine glass, Frieza refocused his attention just in time to see Planet Vegeta's outline start to shimmer. With a smile on his face, he watched the Saiyans be all but extinguished from the galaxy.

A/N: Hope this chapter gives you a good idea of the universe. Frieza took a much more keen eye towards the Saiyans' strength, while still realizing that they were a threat when gathered together. Under his control, he hopes a select few will prove to be more useful.

Also, any readers of Strength of Many might notice I'm trying to write this story a bit "tighter", if that makes sense. Additionally, I'm trying to take a more variant chronological approach- sections of a chapter might take place years before the most recent event depicted, at least until the first arc is over. So far I think this had made for an interesting start!