AN: This story is the product of months of collaboration and work. I couldn't have written this without my brother (cmpunk666) and his girlfriend (ragingspirit90) who both came up with as much of this as I did. This story grew from a 'wouldn't it be cool if' idea into the monster story it's become. I sincerely hope you all will enjoy this story as much as we've enjoyed brainstorming ideas and developing the many OCs you will find in here.
I've done my best to stick to name puns for all the OCs in Akira Toriyama style even if we had to get creative. I'll do my best to throw the translations up at the beginning of the chapters.
Akulli-ice in Albanian
Zjarro-fire in Albanian
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z in any way shape or form. I do, however, own the OCs.
A huge shout out and thank you to flamingpoetic for beta-ing this and for moral support and encouragement! Go read her story The Mistaken Wish on .
*!*!*!
The surface of the planet Akulli was barren and bleak. Wind howled across the surface, unstopped by anything other than the occasional rock or hill. The landscape was familiar and comforting to its inhabitants—barren, bleak and inhospitable as their original desert home world.
It was a cold and desolate place, the sky a purplish blue. The air was dry and thin and there was very little cloud cover. Occasionally, clouds drifted overhead and rarely a thin dusting of frozen water would coat the world, giving the planet a sort of deadly beauty.
The Palace of Remembrance had been built when the Akulli had risen above their banishment to the icy rock thousands of years ago, and remained a symbol of perseverance against the Zjarro and their own biology. The Akulli had never been meant to survive the banishment to this place. The temperature change alone should have proven fatal. There had been a great many losses, one that the species had never quite recovered from, but those who had survived in spite of everything. Subsequent generations had adapted so much that they only superficially resembled the race they'd once been. They hadn't stopped there. Once their own world was conquered, the Akulli had become rulers of the galaxy.
Within the walls of the palace, a rare meeting was occurring to ensure the continued prosperity of an empire that spanned the entire galaxy. The outcome had the potential to strengthen ties or break them. With many different personalities gathered around the table, things weren't going as smoothly as hoped, but no wars had broken out. Yet.
A large table had been arranged where the five Akulli rulers were comfortably seated. Their various guards and staff were not given the same luxury and were required to remain standing for the duration of the meeting. They stood in groups, still dressed in a variety of cold weather gear, quietly talking amongst themselves while the bickering occurred.
Zarbon, Frieza's second in command, watched Frieza's face go from bored annoyance to contempt at everything Cooler was saying. His tail was already lashing dangerously behind him; it wouldn't be too long before Frieza lost it. Cooler had a point to what he was saying, though Zarbon would never utter the words. At the head of the table, King Cold lounged in his seat, only half listening. The leader of the Planet Trade was far too into his cups to particularly care at this point, but that wasn't anything unusual. Zarbon resisted giving a shake of his head in amusement. If word got out that the almighty Tyrant himself was more of a drunk these days than a leader, worlds would burn. The true power seemed to lie with the one Akulli who hadn't said a word as of yet.
Zarbon turned his eyes towards Queen Cold. Whatever her true name had once been was as mysterious as the scars that laced her pale skin. She was an intimidating figure decked with her armor and jewelry. He'd never seen an Akulli female wear such ornaments, but he was sure it had to do with flaunting her status. She did it because she could. Even though she hadn't spoken, her eyes seemed to be taking in every detail of the meeting. She was more than likely taking notes to use later. Rumor had it that King Cold had become nothing more than a puppet figurehead, and after seeing what he had today, he believed it. Those ruby-colored eyes so similar to Frieza's met his, making his skin crawl and he looked away. Frieza was by far one of the most evil, twisted beings that the universe had ever seen, and his mother made him seem almost normal by comparison.
The sound of Frieza's voice snapped Zarbon to the present.
"So, what you are insinuating then is that I am purposely disregarding trade agreements?" Frieza asked, his voice causing Zarbon to tense.
Cooler leveled his glare at Frieza. Whoever had thought that seating them across from each other was a good idea needed to be killed.
"I am not insinuating anything, Frieza. I am telling you. When my ships cross your borders, they get boarded and harassed. Your governors of your outer territories aren't acting on their own ideas—most of them are too stupid for that." He practically snarled.
Frieza waved a hand dismissively. "How am I to control what one or two bored outer rim governors do on a daily basis? There is much more to my empire than that."
"They boarded with troops, and it's more than one or two. It doesn't matter which point of the border my ships cross. They loose valuable time or they face confiscation of wares, which does affect more than just trade. Can you even fathom how many complaints I have at the moment?"
"Perhaps, then, you should realize anything confiscated is prohibited in the boundaries of my empire." Frieza pointed out.
"Hardly the point, considering my ships are passing through on their way to Krystal's sector. When the manifest states they are not delivering in your territory, your men shouldn't bother my ships. Your ridiculous prohibitions to keep your people under your thumb aren't my concern. This is why we have trade agreements with regulations."
A female voice broke through the arguing. Krystal, the middle child of King Cold, was not amused by Frieza's antics as of late in the least. "Maybe the best solution to this would be if your ships passed through Father's territory instead of Frieza's." Krystal stated, examining a data pad. "Considering the report you have, Cooler, the increase of fuel costs would even out to the loss of time and the cost of the confiscated wares." Krystal's blue eyes met Frieza's in defiance.
While the two resembled each other superficially, Krystal's coloring was off. Instead of pale white skin like the rest of her family, her black skin was a throwback to the Akulli's Zjarron ancestry. It wasn't just her physical appearance that differentiated her from the rest of her family, either, it was her demeanor and her view of the universe. Unlike the others, Krystal didn't have a power-hungry or evil bone in her body. Her empire was run in a way that the universe hadn't seen in millennia. It was thriving and wasn't surrounded by a constant shroud of death and destruction. With the exception of maybe Cooler, Krystal was the only sane one of the bunch.
"There you go, flaunting your perfect little ideals." Frieza sneered, "Your Empire is going to burn and you'll go crying to one of us when it happens."
Krystal shrugged nonchalantly, "Perhaps, but that's hardly the point, is it little brother? The point we were discussing is your unwillingness to stick to trade agreements that have been in place for years because you can't control your grudge against me. I was merely offering a solution that would make everyone happy. Trade ships can arrive on time and you don't have to worry about them passing through your territory."
Zarbon took a step back as Frieza's tale lashed and he jumped to his feet.
A loud bang echoed through the room before Frieza lunged towards Krystal.
King Cold was on his feet, his fist had left a crack in the stone table. "Enough squabbling. We're here to work out grievances, not create more. I believe that issue is concluded for now, unless you have anything to add." He glanced at Cooler.
"It will have to do for now, but this conversation is far from over." Cooler agreed, with a glare towards Frieza.
King Cold's glance went to Frieza, who nodded.
King Cold made a gesture towards one of his many servants, waving toward his empty cup. The trembling creature poured more wine, miraculously not spilling a drop and slunk back into the shadows. The King of the Akulli took a long sip before gesturing towards Frieza once more.
"Now, I believe you had some sort of problem going on with those flea-ridden simpletons you enjoy using as ki fodder." King Cold commented dismissively.
Zarbon watched as Frieza rose to his feet once more, pacing agitatedly back and forth. The others around the table knew this problem and knew it well. A situation had been brewing for years, and it was Frieza's biggest thorn in his side. Cooler's expression turned to that of agitated boredom, while Krystal exchanged a look with her adviser.
"I've handed the Saiyans an ultimatum. If they do not comply, they will be purged. They've sent their support over the years in the form of auxiliary troops, but their loyalties are questionable at best." Frieza started.
"Aren't they some of your best troops? Do you think it's smart to wipe out the species?" Cooler asked pragmatically, trying to wrap his mind around what Frieza was saying.
Frieza gave a nod, "They are. However, there are no treaties in place. Planet Vegeta is not a part of the Planet Trade and therefore not under the same rules. Since the troops are merely auxiliary, they can technically be recalled at any time. This has been a problem in the past but the biggest problem is the fact that the King has been stalling for five years now on having a meeting about it. I've given him my terms, and he will comply or face purging. I've been rather lenient and patient about the whole thing, but I'm through with playing games."
"And how exactly do you plan on ensuring that they stick to the terms you set up?" Krystal asked.
Frieza's smile indicated he had everything planned out. "By taking a hostage. The Crown Prince of Vegeta is apparently the strongest warrior ever born to the species. Under my tutelage, he'll grow strong and loyal and when he takes the throne, I won't have to worry about petty disagreements."
Zarbon felt a chill at the words. Frieza was planning to mold the young Prince in his image then. He'd of course known of the plan, but to hear Frieza say it with such nonchalance as if he were merely discussing the weather was a bit disturbing. Despite all the things Zarbon had witnessed and done over the years, despite the horrors and atrocities—or maybe because of them—he couldn't help but feel pity for the child. If the child survived to adulthood in Frieza's care, he shuddered to think of the result.
Krystal seemed to be sharing Zarbon's thoughts by the grimace that crossed her features. "Even if you take the child as a hostage, what if the Saiyans don't remain loyal?" She asked. The Saiyans were a proud race, and she found it hard to believe that they would sway so easily under another's rule. This situation was turning into a mess that would more than likely have serious consequences for much of Frieza's territory. If he set the Saiyan homeworld to burn for merely failing to bow to him completely, she wasn't sure it would send a message of fear big enough to quell the rest of his sector. The Saiyans' loyalty would have essentially meant nothing over the years, and there would be revolutions.
"If the Saiyans break the agreement, they will be eradicated." Frieza said with finality.
King Cold raised a hand. "I understand your reasoning, son, but at the same time you may be getting ahead of yourself. Before you work yourself up, perhaps you should see exactly what the outcome of this meeting is. When is it?" He asked, his voice was somewhat slurred, but he had been surprisingly coherent during most of the meeting.
Frieza seemed somewhat taken aback by King Cold's diplomatic response. "Two weeks. They have two weeks to set up the handover of Prince Vegeta."
Before King Cold could respond, the door to the throne room burst open. A bipedal reptilian creature dressed in the armor of King Cold's guard ran into the room out of breath. Before he could even bow a blast of ki hit him square in the abdomen. The guard crumpled coughing blood, his glazed eyes denoting his death.
"I said no interruptions!" King Cold shouted, causing his the entire room to flinch and look towards King Cold. Only the queen smiled slightly at this, waving one of the servants to drag the corpse away.
Zarbon had to hide his dark amusement at Frieza's reaction. How many times had Frieza done the exact same thing to one poor soldier or another over the years? Honestly, Zarbon didn't keep track.
"I believe we have your situation all sorted out then, Frieza." King Cold stated, never missing a beat.
A moment or two more passed before the sound of a scouter chiming broke through the low muttering in the room. All eyes focused on Salza, Cooler's right hand man. He took a step back, turning his head to answer the transmission. After a moment, he leaned towards Cooler handing the scouter to him. Cooler looked surprised but trusted that it had to be an emergency. He listened to the transmission for a moment or two, his eyes flicking from Frieza to King Cold and cut the transmission.
Cooler couldn't help the look of cold amusement that crossed his features as he met King Cold's gaze. "Apparently the guard you just killed was sent to tell you that the base in Zchurca has been destroyed and that there is apparently an attack fleet heading this way."
King Cold's eyes widened and he rose to his feet, "Who would dare?" He bellowed. "Where are the ships coming from?"
"Zjarro." Cooler stated simply. "Casualties are rather high. The base is rubble and one of Frieza's ships has taken a hit as well." He glanced towards Frieza, "Your Commander you left in charge is apparently injured. Dodoria, I believe."
Frieza's eyes widened in rage.
"This meeting is adjourned." King Cold snarled, all traces of the wine he consumed gone. "Frieza, with me."
"Take command of the flagship, Zarbon." Frieza ordered over his shoulder as took off after King Cold.
The room erupted into a flurry of noise and movement as the various groups began to leave the room. Zarbon barked out the orders for Frieza's remaining staff to report directly to the flagship as he started going through scouter transmissions, trying to gauge the situation. He startled when a hand touched his shoulder, turning to see the identical features of his brother's face. They looked identical with the exception of clothing. Zarbon preferred his hair long and dressed in the traditional manner of his home world. Zaidon had long ago given up wearing the traditional jewelry and clothing and dressed in the common soldier's uniform of Krystal's forces. His hair was cut to shoulder length and simply pulled back.
"Zaidon, you startled me."
A look of amusement crossed the other man's face. "I wasn't able to speak to you before the meeting, but it's good to see you. You look like hell though. No rest for the wicked, eh?"
"Something along those lines." Zarbon sighed. From what he gathered, there was chaos out there. Chaos that he was sure would get worse at the interference of both Frieza and King Cold. Apparently the Zjarro had waited thousands of years to seek their retribution in a long-forgotten conflict. The base on the moon of Akulli was gone, as well as some of King Cold's fleet. Frieza's main battle cruiser was crippled and leaking atmosphere. Dodoria had apparently ordered it right into firing range, and honestly, Zarbon wasn't surprised.
"How are things on your end?" Zarbon tried to keep the bitter tone out of his voice, but there were times when he envied Zaidon. Zaidon worked for Krystal, and though his job came with its own unique stresses, Zarbon felt he had gotten the shit end of the deal.
"Busy. We have our own problems at the moment. There have been a number of rebellions cropping up and we think we've located the source. I'll be heading there shortly to try and quell them," Zaidon said quietly.
Zarbon looked at him with interest. Apparently his brother did more than paperwork on a daily basis. Interesting. "You'll have to tell me all about it. I have a flagship to take command of and a group of panicking idiots on a crippled ship to talk down before they do something beyond stupid. It was good to see you."
Zaidon gave him a smile. "You as well. Keep in touch."
Zarbon watched him walk back to where Krystal was with a look of envy. Things seemed so calm in his world, and once again, he wondered what grievance he'd committed in a past life to deserve this.
As he situated his breather mask on his face and wrapped his cloak around him to make his way out of the palace, his scouter squawked to life.
He recognized the code and let out a sigh, "Yes, Lord Frieza?"
"Zarbon, where the hell are you? I need you to get the ship situation under control now!"
Zarbon rolled his eyes, knowing Frieza couldn't see him and feeling remarkably brave about that fact. "Of course."
No rest for the wicked indeed.
It hadn't been more than a few hours since their entourage had gotten back to the ship when Zaidon's scouter began to signal that he had an incoming message. The transmission was encrypted, and he wasn't sure who would contact him from an encrypted line.
"Zaidon speaking," he answered.
"I need to speak to Krystal at once." The female voice demanded rather than asked.
Zaidon raised a finely groomed eyebrow at the tone, recognizing the person on the other end instantly. There were very few who had that kind of audacity.
"Ah, Aglia, always a pleasure. The Empress is a very busy person."
"Cut the bullshit, Zaidon. I don't have time for your posturing. She is expecting this transmission and you know it." The voice shot back with a surprising amount of venom.
Zaidon rolled his eyes at the lack of humor on the other end. He supposed stress did that to someone, but he had an impression Aglia was just high strung in general.
He made his way across the room from his office to the table where Krystal was seated, going over charts with one of her science officers. She glanced to Zaidon and he motioned to the scouter, handing it to her.
"It's Aglia, with all her usual charm." He stated mockingly.
"Zaidon," Krystal said warningly, though with no real threat.
Krystal placed the scouter on her face. "Aglia, I was going to contact you. I have news."
"Good or bad?" Aglia asked, coming straight to the point.
"Not great. There wasn't anything I could do. Nothing has changed." Krystal answered in vague code. The transmission was encrypted, but Aglia's contact to her put her life on the line, and they couldn't take chances.
There was a weary sigh from the other end. "It's all up to how well we manage things now. Great."
"I'm sorry I couldn't do more, but this has been coming for a long time. I don't have the kind of clout needed to stop it," Krystal stated, unable to keep the sympathy out of her voice.
"I know. The contingency plan. Is it still valid?"
Krystal paused, remember the plan she'd discussed in person with Aglia, almost two years before. It had seemed like such a vague threat at the time. She'd made the offer, never thinking anything of it. The possibility seemed more real now.
"Yes. You have my word on my throne." Krystal answered solemnly.
"Thank you. Your honor will not be forgotton." Krystal could have sworn she heard the emotion in Aglia's voice, which she'd never thought would have happened. Maybe it was just the encryption messing with the frequency.
"I wish you well Aglia." Krystal stated simply, cutting the transmission. She handed the scouter back to Zaidon with a cryptic smile.
"So it begins."