Author's note: Hey, guys, thanks for the reads, & the reviews. I love getting those alerts. Please feel free to keep them coming, & let me know your thoughts as the story progresses.

Also, 4/18/21, hit 20,000 reads.

Written by: SparkerLightning and StevenBodner

Chapter 44

Cold Planet 6,174

Frieza was falling out of the air, not that he seemed to be aware of it. The piss-haired Saiyan met him there, just above the planet. His knee dug into Frieza, scrambling his organic and synthetic internal parts, and sending both himself and the bald Saiyan back into the air. While Baldy was able to twist them around, get under him, and kick him further into the air, the prince was utterly helpless.

At the top of his arc, Piss-Head dropped an ax kick into the dying ruler's open wound, nearly ripping him in half. Before he could fall far, reach safety, he was caught by the barbarian once again. The massive Saiyan smashed a palm into either side of his head, and stared into his tired red eyes.

"Burn in Hell, Frieza." The monkey bellowed as he summoned his ki from his core, and into his mouth and through his hands.

The heir to the empire screamed in furious hatred and agony, suffering as the barbaric attack erased everything above his shoulders. No longer holding any part of the new angle, the brute watched as his body fell to the dusty arena floor.

Slowly, the crowd realized what had happened, who had won, and a rapid retreat quickly turned into an all-out stampede of cowards as a planet full of Frieza loyalists fled their emperor's killers. As the projection cut to static, the floating monitor was deactivated.

Cold hammered his fist onto his massive throne's armrest. The solid stone was smashed into rubble and he nearly fell over as he followed through his outburst. Getting to his feet he approached the monitor, grasping it out of the air with both hands. He turned to face his unidentified subordinate.

"Fix, it." He growled.

"Sir!" A man in white called from behind him as he snapped to his feet. "The signal is no longer found. The equipment on FP314 has either been deactivated or destroyed."

Cold spun and approached the assumed technical staff. The king loomed over the slender alien, who only came to his waist. "Fix, it. Show me the planet. I demand to know what is going on at my son's planet."

The alien held firm in his salute. His spine was straight, his eyes were meeting his superiors. "I'm sorry, sir. Without the equipment properly functioning on..."

Cold released the screen over the man's head.

"Figure, it, out." He turned to address the rest of his court. "IDEAS. Give me IDEAS!" He marched to the center of his throne room and clinched his fist.

One of his guards stepped forward. "Sir, scouters."

Cold looked the man up and down. He looked somewhat familiar. "Elaborate."

The man addressed the technical officer, talking past his king. "Could we use a scouter as a substitute camera? The quality won't..."

Cold followed his man's gaze. "Will that work?"

The slender alien had already lowered the display device, and was typing on a hidden keyboard in its rear. He held up a single finger for a moment before continuing his frantic project. All eyes were on him for the next several seconds. "The scouters are far too weak to reach us. I'm trying to access FP314's master system, so we can watch from there."

Cold took a deep breath, clinched his fists, and with a glance, he reduced the rest of his throne to a fine powder. "Keep trying." He turned back to the man who suggested the idea.

"They must have got to FP314 somehow." He crossed his arms. "Find someone who can track their ship, and get it done. I want to know where they are now, where they are going, and when they will be there. I don't want a single moment where they are unaccounted for, as a group, and as individuals."

The addressed soldier saluted and swiftly marched out of the throne room. Cold eyed the next, and he stepped forward.

"Establish a blockade on Earth. When they get home, they will not be allowed to land." The soldier made to walk off but Cold held up an open palm.

"Broadcast the footage to their planet." The soldier ordered. "Tell the planet that those individual will be punished for their crimes against the Cold Empire. Tell them that any and all associates of theirs must step forward, or be pushed forward to join those four. Correction. make that FIVE. Bulma betrayed us as well, and will not go unpunished."

"Speaking of Bulma." Cold addressed the next soldier. "Speaking of all of the group, actually. They are not to be harmed. Not to be even approached. I am the only one who will be interacting with them from now on. Anyone that harms them, anyone that gets in my way, will be punished, fully. Spread the message."

"Back to Bulma." He spoke to the still working technical officer. "Any and all technology she had any part in building, designing, or even theorizing upon, is not to be trusted. Her presence in the empire is to be removed at once. Spread the message."

One soldier was left in the throne room. He stepped up and saluted.

"Prepare my ship." He thought for a moment. "We are moving out. Set course for Earth, but be prepared to change direction as soon as they are located."

The soldier stood there motionless.

"MOVE!" Cold barked, kicking the soldier into high gear.

Aboard Capsule Cosmos

Goku ran a towel over his head as he stepped into the gravity chamber. The room had been converted with the press of a button to an open living area. A ring of wide benches had folded down from the walls, and tables had rose up between them. Nappa occupied one bench by himself. He had multiple small bandages over his exposed skin. Chiaotzu and Krillin shared a bench, neither showing signs of physical harm. However, Chiaotzu sagged in his seat, eyes barely staying open. Goku was in the next spot, laying down with his head propped up on a thick pillow, bandages wove their way over a majority of his body, a glass of water on the floor beside him. Turles took the next seat to himself, biting his lip as he was brought up to speed.

As Nappa was describing his finishing move and how he successfulyl erased of Frieza, the door to the chamber opened, and Bulma walked in. She was followed by Jeice.

Bulma was wearing a deep blue bodysuit, stolen from Vegeta's former closet. Her hands were uncomfortably warn in his gloves, and her feet wore his boots. Over the suit she wore a white bathrobe, hiding as much of her form as possible. Her hair was wrapped up in a matching white towel. Deep scars covered her face in misaligned intersecting lines, unable to be casually covered.

Jeice had raided Vegeta's wardrobe as well, but being a warrior, he dressed as one. He walked close behind Bulma, not letting her out of reach of a quick forward step. He looked around the room. Everyone else focused on Bulma, but Nappa looked past her, into him. They hadn't known each other, but Jeice's reputation as a member of the old Ginyu Force, and more recently as one of Frieza's special agents, spread wide.

The pair sat together on the bench nearest to the door. Bulma looked at the ground in the middle of the chamber. She didn't know, but she suspected, the control console would hiding under the red surface.

"How are you feeling?" Turles spoke up first. In theory he addressed both newcomers, but only one felt comfortable answering.

Bulma moved her hand to her side, resting it atop Jeice's.

"Better, now that I'm cleaned up." She lied as her eyes were focused on her feet. "Thank you for waiting."

"We're glad to hear it, Bulma." Goku laughed as he responded. "And Jeice? How about you?"

All eyes moved to Jeice. His hand flipped over, taking Bulma's. She squeezed, and he responded.

"I'm hanging in there." He looked at the panel over Goku.

Bulma took in the group around her. Tired, bruised, burnt, and bandaged. "How about you guys? You, you didn't have an easy time out there."

"I feel fine!" Krillin beamed, and Chiaotzu rolled his now closed eyes.

"I've been better." Goku sat up as he took a sip of his water. "But I've also been a lot worse. I'll be fine soon enough."

'Don't look at me." Nappa shook his head with a grin. "I may be worn out, but all in all, I didn't get that hurt."

He rubbed at one of the bandages, a cut from one of the walls he rammed into. "I really didn't think I'd make it out of there, but no, I'm fine."

Chiaotzu didn't open his eyes, but took his turn all the same. "I've never been hit that hard, no offense, Nappa. I've never maintained that much power that long before, no offense, Goku. I, I feel like my entire body is dislocated, and like I could sleep for the entire trip home."

Bulma smiled at Chiaotzu as she gave him a quick look over, settling her eyes' gaze on his peaceful gaze. If he hadn't just spoke, she would have assumed he was asleep.

"I feel you there." Bulma yawned. "What happened on Earth while I was gone? Anything exciting?"

Turles and Goku exchanged an uneasy glance, mentally debating who should start this conversation.

"Quite a bit." Chiaotzu took the initiative. "Most notable, something happened with Tien. Well, Tien has passed away, but something happened before that. Frieza's brother, Cooler, came to Earth. Tien attempted to kidnap your father, and join him."

Jeice's eyes shifted from his tangled hand, to Chiaotzu.

Bulma's eyes were beginning to sag, but they shot open at that.

"What? Tien, turned against us?" She looked to Krillin, and then Goku. "Is this, was that something to do with the Crane School?"

Chiaotzu harshly scoffed before responding.

"No, and as a former student of the Crane School, as a friend of Tien's, I ask that you don't make implications like that." His head slowly, barely, moved from side to side. Jeice swallowed a lump in his throat. "No, he was acting strange ever since Namek. I don't know what happened there, well, I do, he got hit in the head, but he wasn't the same after Namek."

Bulma sank further into the bench. Why didn't they install couches instead? "I'm, I'm sorry to hear that. He was a good friend. He was a valuable part of our team. I'll miss him, but can't we wish him back? Or were you not able to revive Piccolo and Kami?"

Bulma let go of her partner's hand and draped that arm over Jeice's shoulders and leaned into him.

Turles tapped his foot and rolled his neck. "We did revive Piccolo, but that brings us to the next major event." Bulma visibly deflated at that. "Someone else attacked Earth, before Cooler."

"Garlic Junior." Goku named the foe. "He devastated the Earth before they were able to stop him. Kami was captured in the Dead Zone. Piccolo entered it. They fused into one Namekian."

"Reunited." Turles corrected him. "They were born as one, and split apart on Earth. They just returned to their natural state."

"They reunited, and there aren't any more Dragon Balls. If another Namekian came to Earth, adopted the role, then they could be reactivated. But as it stands, we're without."

"How about everyone else? My parents, Gohan and Chi-Chi? Or, what about..."

Krillin cleared his throat. "Yes, they're all fine. Your parents are still inventing and networking. Chi-Chi and Gohan are fine. Piccolo and Loa are fine. When we left, everything was in order."

"Loa?" Bulma looked at Krillin's boots. "Who is that?"

"She's someone we met on Namek." Goku leaned forward on his bench, setting his glass down. "Really nice lady. I think Piccolo might have a thing for her."

Jeice pulled Bulma tight against his side as Goku spoke. When he had finished, and no one took the torch, he decided to share what news he had, turning his attention to Chiaotzu. "Your friend, Tien. You said he had a head injury on Namek, and actively worked against you after that?"

Chiaotzu weakly nodded. "That is correct. He, he wasn't himself."

"I think I know what happened to him. I'm sorry to tell you this, but, if I'm right, your friend, Tien, died on Namek." Jeice took a deep breath. "My former captain, the leader of the Ginyu Force, Captain Ginyu, was an incredibly powerful fighter. He wasn't just powerful though. He had a unique ability in the Frieza Force."

Jeice rested his cheek on Bulma's head before straightening back up and continuing. "He had the ability to swap bodies with someone at will. Furthermore, I know that he did swap bodies on Namek. If, if Tien betrayed you on Earth, tried to join Cooler, then I assume it was Ginyu in Tien's body. I'm sorry."

Chiaotzu's eyes opened as Jeice spoke. The alien was uncomfortable. He was out of his element. He was nervous. But as far as the psychic could tell, he was telling the truth, and he didn't know how to feel about that. He knew Tien had died. He had mourned the loss of his oldest friend, his partner, the one person who had been by his side since, since the beginning. But he didn't do so properly.

Tien was an enemy in the end. He had turned his back on him, he had turned his back on everyone. He kidnapped Dr. Brief, and, while he couldn't remember for certain, he was fairly sure Tien had even actively fought alongside Cooler's team. He was mourned, but not truly. Tears weren't shed over his death, but over his betrayal. Chiaotzu didn't cry for his friend's death, but for his own shattered trust. But that wasn't Tien.

Tien wouldn't betray them. Tien wouldn't reject him. That wasn't Tien. Tien had died on Namek. Tien had never come home. Chiaotzu lost his best friend and partner, and he didn't even know. Jeice blurred from a red man in blue and white, into a purple streak as far too delayed tears began to fall.

"When he went to Namek, he, he left a letter. When he… when Ginyu got back, I burned it." Chiaotzu took several shallow breaths as a wave of nausea rolled over his body. "His last words to me, are lost. And I burned them because I didn't trust him. I'm sorry, Tien. I'm sorry."

Krillin reached over and hugged Chiaotzu. "If Frieza was revived." He addressed Jeice. "Tien would have been revived as well. Is he out there? Can we find him?"

Jeice shook his head. "Frieza blew up Namek shortly after being revived. If Tien was revived, he wouldn't have been for long."

Six hearts sank at that. Sure, the Earth's Dragon Balls were gone, but another Namekian could have created new ones. If Namek was destroyed though, then their Dragon Balls were also gone. Death was final. Destruction was irreversible. Their lives could be cut short without notice. A stray meteor could crash into their ship, and there would be nothing to be done about it.

Bulma knew where they were. She knew how far they were from Earth, from where Namek was, from, from anything. But now, the distance hit her. The isolation hit her. It was her and Jeice, Nappa and Turles, Krillin and Chiaotzu, and Goku, all alone. If they didn't make it home, if they died out here, and no one would know, no one could find out. They'd vanish into the void of space. Finally, the dam had reached its breaking point.

Her eyes stung as tears threatened to spill over. Shooting to her feet she turned to the door, refusing to let the others see her cry. "Chiaotzu, I'm sorry for your loss." She tried to speak smoothly. She tried to hold her breath steady. She failed.

Jeice stood behind her, looking between her and Chiaotzu.

"I, I need to be alone." She grabbed the door seal with one hand and extended the other behind her. She closed her eyes, pinched them shut. She wouldn't cry, not here, not in front of others. No, she had to stay strong.

Jeice took Bulma's offered hand.

She stepped forward, using her hand on the door to guide her into the hall. "I need to be alone. We'll be in Vegeta's quarters."

As she swung herself out, the seal was broken, and tears began to flow. Jeice hurried to her side, taking her left hand in his, and wrapping his right arm around her as they walked.

Entering the shared room, Bulma pulled her bathrobe tighter. Checking the wardrobe, she found clothes. Checking under the bed, she found boots and other miscellaneous items. Checking in the upper bunks, she found bedding. Tearing the sheets from the opposite berth, she tucked them into the side of hers, draping them like a curtain.

She crawled into her nest, and Jeice climbed in behind her. In the dark, in the silence, in the emptiness around her, she continued to cry, and Jeice continued to hold her. Not being able to see herself, she no longer needed to hide it, and in fact needed to be free. Jeice kept his arms around Bulma's torso as she pealed her gloves and boots off, dropping them outside the sheet. After catching an unintentional elbow to the armored chest plate, he pulled back long enough for Bulma to remove the bathrobe, towel, and bodysuit.

Jeice laid flat on the bed, and Bulma, once bare-skinned, laid on top of him. She didn't like the feel of the stretchy blue suit, the hardness of the armor, or the non-personal touch of the gloves. But she had to do what she had to do for herself, and she wouldn't blame him for doing the same for himself.

"Where are you?" Jeice asked her, wrapping one arm around her waist, and using his other to stroke her still wet hair.

"With you." Bulma responded instinctively.

He cupped her chin, lifting her nose to his. "That's who you're with, and not complete either. I asked, where are you."

"In space. In my father's ship." She rubbed her nose alongside his, before switching to their cheeks, and eventually berrying her face in his hair.

He switched to petting her back. Part of him hated the familiar squeeze of the gloves, but right now, with these strong of strangers, he couldn't remove them. He couldn't lower his guard. Not yet. "And now, who are you with?"

"I'm with you." She hugged him with all four of her limbs. "And, and Goku, and Krillin, and Chiaotzu, and Turles." She continued.

He breathed in her hair, it smelled so foreign, so, so sweet. "And what are you doing?"

"Freaking out, panicking, trying not to throw up, trying to be strong..." Tears soaked into Jeice's hair.

Jeice held her tighter before returning to his soothing strokes. "Wrong question. What are we doing?"

"We're, we're going to Earth."

"We're going home."

Bulma nodded and didn't answer. She was going home. She was returning to her parents, to her friends, to Yamcha... She stiffened in his arms. Slowly she untangled herself from Jeice. He tried to adjust, to hold on, but when she kept moving, he let her go.

Careful not to hit her head, and failing, she went to the far end of the bed. Even in the dark she moved a pillow between herself and Jeice, and pulled a blanket to cover her chest.

Jeice sat up, crossing his legs, but staying on his end of the bed. He rested his elbows in his lap and leaned towards Bulma. "What's up? You're okay. You're with me. We're in your father's ship. We're heading home."

"I'm sorry." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Jeice. I'm sorry."

She turned her back to him, trying to roll herself in the sheets. His weight prevented it, until he floated up and let her shield her shame.

"What are you sorry for?" He reached out, but didn't touch her. He held his hand towards her, palm up, fingers open.

"I'm, I'm in a relationship. I'm dating someone on Earth. Yamcha." She hiccupped as she spoke his name, before struggling to not sob. "I cheated on him with you. I'm sorry, Jeice. I'm sorry. I, I forgot about, oh, oh god, no."

Bulma reflected on his musk, on his strong arms, on his, on, she didn't know, she couldn't remember what she wanted to. She liked him, she thought she loved him. But why? Who was he? Where was he? Why wasn't he on this ship? She forgot him, for who knew how long, and if he wasn't here, did he even care?

"Oh." Jeice lowered his hand. "Bulma, if you need me as a friend, I can do that. If you want me as more, I can do that too. But we need to be clear, I need you to be clear. Do you want me as a friend, or do you want me as a partner?"

Inviting her touch, he lifted his hand in the darkness once more, and formed a small glowing ball of ki in the other.

She looked over her shoulder at him. The red ki sent her heart racing. Passion, love, affection, violence, burning, pain. She recoiled and he closed his fist, ending the glow. She sat there, back against the cold wall, body hidden by the warm blanket. Jeice was passionate, inviting, and caring. She was his prisoner after Namek, and he treated her well. Not at first, at first they were advise rial, but that ended. She trusted him, and he trusted her. He protected her. He kept her head in the game, and was at her side every step of the way.

She looked at her hand, not seeing it in front of her face. She knew where his hand was. It hadn't moved, it wouldn't move. He was patient, he cared. On the ship he could have done whatever he wanted. He waited. He let her make the first move. And he was doing it again now. The invitation was there, the safety net was cast, but Yamcha… but nothing. Jeice was here, Jeice was always here. She placed her palm in his. She pulled herself to him, onto his lap, found his face, brushed a stray hair behind his ear, and kissed him.

"I think I know what that means, but I want you to say it. I want you to be clear with me. Tell me, Bulma, friend, or..."

She kissed him again. "No, not just a friend. Never, never just a friend. I, I don't know what we are, yet, but more than friends." She hung her arms around his neck, shifted to sit sideways on him, and held him close.

"Yet?" He teased as he shifted his legs out from under him, laid her down, and nuzzled his way into her side.

"Yamcha and I. We never broke up. Until that is done, I don't think we should be a couple. But..." She closed her eyes and kissed his forehead.

"But...?" He let his body relax.

"I don't know." She lied as she pulled him close. "Just, just hold me, and don't let me go."

Jeice smiled as he obeyed. He was ready to rest. It had been a long day, and if he was honest, a long week, month, and year, at that. If life continued the way it had, under Frieza, the two of them would have been fine. Bulma was an incredible asset to the empire, and Jeice, well, he didn't really know why Frieza liked him so much. He was strong, far stronger than the Ginyu Force. He was smart, far smarter than the Ginyu Force. But he wasn't as smart as Bulma. He wasn't as skilled as Bulma. Yet he kept them together, let them work together, even live together. Any number of scientists would have been far superior partners to her, but Frieza allowed…

Fuck.

Frieza didn't care about him. Frieza didn't value him. He valued Bulma, and Bulma valued him. He wasn't working with Bulma for Bulma's sake. No, he was dangled in front of her. If she had stepped out of line, she would be punished, he would be killed.

"Jeice?"

"Yeah, Bulma?"

"I don't want to go to sleep."

"Why not?" He propped himself up on his arm.

"Why don't you want to go to sleep?" He rolled on top of her, almost certainly looking her in the eyes. Thankfully, she couldn't tell.

"I'm afraid that when I wake up, I'll be back on Frieza Planet 314."

He moved his legs to the outside of hers. He touched his lips to hers. He draped his hair down to hers. He let a tear blend with hers.

"I'm sorry, Bulma." He lowered his head to beside hers, and shook it.

"What for?"

"I'm sorry you're afraid. I'm sorry you're hurt. I'm sorry I captured you. I'm sorry that you've been through all of this. If I hadn't taken you prisoner..."

"You would have been killed on Namek. We never would have met."

"But you would have been back on Earth. You could have continued your life."

"Not without you. If I had to do it again, I would. I don't want to go back to Earth if you're not beside me."

He took a deep breath and propped himself up. Bulma didn't release him, and hung like a koala. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Can, can I open the curtain, a little?"

She stiffened and looked to her side. All directions were dark, but her right was softer. "Why?"

"I want to see you. I want to see your face when I respond to that." He touched his nose to hers. "We don't have to, if you're not ready."

"Okay."

"Open it?"

"Yeah."

Jeice took another deep breath, and reached over Bulma's head to grab the corner of the sheet. Slowly, keeping his focus on the woman beneath him, he pulled it back. The room was dark, the main lights deactivated, but the starlight beaming through their digital window was enough to see her face by. He braced for impact. "Bulma, I love you."

She bit her lip. Slowly, carefully, she lifted her gaze from his shoulders to his jaw, to his nose, and to his eyes. She took a sharp breath, expecting pain. He was soft, patient, and he was hers.

"I love you, too." She pressed her lips to his and pulled him back down. The curtain fell shut, and silence filled the room until his boots fell to the floor.

Aboard Frost Storm

Cold climbed the massive stairs to exit the confinement of his ship. Atop the massive squashed dome roof his crystalline throne was temperately placed. The glowing blue material stood in sharp contrast to the canvas of black around them. He approached his throne, and two columns of men followed behind, led by his direct staff. Each soldier was in their finest armor, and were handpicked for the ovation. As Cold sat, his underlings stopped their activities.

Once situated, the king gave a sharp nod and the lines of men continued onward. They formed a semicircle of elite warriors behind their king. The small cluster that led the progression stayed in front of Cold. One prepared a camera, one prepared a computer, and the third directed the others.

Thirty seconds later, he took his place. Thirty seconds after that, he took the seat of power once more. Thirty more seconds later, he omitted to this path, he spoke. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir." The man with the camera responded.

"Yes, sir." The man with the computer responded.

"Yes, sir." The man who wasn't proving useful informed the king. "Are you certain you don't want a speech writer to..."

With a flick of his wrist, Cold cut the man's sentence off, along with the said man's life. The dead man was sent out of the ship's projected atmosphere. "I told you twice already. We, will, do it live."

He spoke as if the man could hear him, but really for the benefit of the other men. He wasn't a monster. He wouldn't kill you for a first offense, and if he was forgiving, he'd even allow a second. But no, not a third.

"Are you ready, sir?" The man at the computer asked.

"I am." Cold straightened his back, spread his feet apart, and completely filled the oversized throne.

"We've live in ten, nine, eight." He lifted an open hand, and went silent at seven, instead lowering each of his fingers in turn. When the last one closed, he nodded, and cold spoke.

"Greetings, Saiyans. Greetings, Earthlings." He spoke directly into the camera. Nothing else existed. He was upon his throne, and his subjects, the rebellious beasts that murdered his son, were at his feet. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am King Cold. I am the father of Prince Frieza. I am the father of Prince Cooler. I am the once, and forever, ruler of the Cold Empire.

My empire, my legacy, was the universe. After generations of brutal effort, generations of endless work, the empire I inhabited was comparable to no other. I expanded it. I grew it. Not every planet was counted in my portfolio, not every system, and not even every civilization. However, we were well-positioned, and it was only a matter of time before all of existence knew of us, and were subject to us. It took centuries. I dedicated the best part of my life to the empire, to the plan. My work was done. I had raised two exceptional boys, and I was ready to step back, allow them to rule in my stead, to finish what I had, not began, but continued."

Cold looked beyond the camera, into the field of stars beyond.

"They had to bring the remaining wild systems into line, and then, we would progress to phase two of our family's, the empire's, plans. Each planet that was captured, was sent off for bidding. Each planet was colonized, modernized, and civilized." He clinched his fist. "We would spread throughout the universe, before rocketing ourselves, the empire, everyone, to a utopian future.

You Saiyans, with your incredible power. You, Earthlings, with your incredible technology. You, you are the reason that extermination of new planets became standard practice. No, there is no room for such outliers in any reasonable future."

Cold shook his head.

"Saiyans, so much power, so much potential, wasted in lashing out at the hand that fed you, the hands that feed the future. You are responsible for the death of my eldest son, Cooler" He bared his teeth. "Earthlings, you infected us with your technology. You earned the trust of my empire, and you betrayed us. You are responsible for the death of my youngest son, Frieza. You have left me without an heir. You have forced me to make a decision."

Cold lifted his left hand, palm up. He closed his eyes, a sad smile crossing his lips.

"I have done my work for the universe. It is no longer my responsibility. I can sit back, I can watch as every planet, every system, every galaxy, tears itself apart. I can watch as my families entire recorded history burns to ash." He closed his fist and lowered it, raising his open right palm. "Or I could come out of retirement. I have surrendered my youth, and I could surrender the rest of my life as well. I could pick heirs, even if not of my blood. I could bring the remaining civilizations under my control. I could oversee their great leap forward." He clinched his fist. "And because I am a man of vision, because I am a man who refuses to let progression slip backwards, because I am me, King Cold, now last of the grand house of Arcosia... I will do just that."

He pumped his fist into the air, and the men behind him cheered.

"My first act as the unwilling ruler of the universe, is to address you. Saiyans, powerful brutes, Earthlings, intelligent snakes, I do not think there is a place for your races moving forward. However, I could be persuaded otherwise."

"The Saiyans, General Nappa and the Golden Goku, I address you directly. The Earthlings, Krillin of Kienzen, Chiaotzu the Conjurer, and Bulma the Brilliant, I address you directly." He stood from his throne and stepped aside. "You five have directly attacked the empire. You have cut the line of succession. You have challenged me for the throne, as representatives of your people. I accept your challenge, and will face you myself. You have a decision to make, and I hope you make the right choice."

Cold retook the throne and the man holding the camera approached, staying low, looking up at the looming tyrant. Cold rose his left hand into the air again.

"The five of you, and any supporters you have, meet me, battle me, as an individual. If I win, the empire continues its forward path. If I win, I will execute each and every one of you, and every supporter that follows you, that gave you aid. If I win, the Earth will be forgiven, and its remaining inhabitants will be assumed innocent of your actions. They will be brought into the empire, but I give you my word their treatment will be fair, as prescribed by standard doctrine. They will not be discriminated against. If you win, I will be dead. If you win, the empire is yours, to do with as you see fit. It is quite a responsibility, but if you win, I will trust you with it."

He shook his head and rose his right hand, balancing it evenly with the other. "Or you could ignore this message. Ignore the opportunity I am offering you. If I do not receive your answer, I will continue to rule as I have before. I will destroy the Earth, and both your races will be completely eradicated.

All communication channels will be monitored from this point forward. If we do not hear from you by the time I reach Earth, I will approach Earth. I will demand you be surrendered to me. If you are not brought to me, the Earth will be crystallized of all life so that it can be repopulated by a deserving species."

He shook his head. "I am not requesting you be there when I arrive. I am simply requesting you open communication with us, so that we can arrange a location for our final battle. My sons were powerful, and brilliant warriors. Either of them would have been considered gods among men if it weren't for me."

The cameraman took several steps backwards, giving Cold the space he needed to stand. All that was captured by the camera was the king's head and shoulders.

"Frieza was the stronger of the two, and the more talented as well. However, Cooler was more ambitious, more driven, more technically gifted, and more dedicated to the cause, a true heir. I'm rambling though. Let me cut to the chase. Let me tell you just how outclassed you are. My people, Arcosians, we can transform, similar to Saiyans. We have four common forms, and my heir discovered a fifth. Each successive form is more powerful than our previous, and these increases of power are vast. I am currently in my second form. My power, at this level, is equal to my youngest son's in his fourth form. Where he was at his limits with this power, I am incapable of crushing it much lower than I already have. When we do battle, whether it be you and your supporters against myself, or myself against your planet."

Red and purple energy burst from the true emperor's every pore. Slowly the blazing aura drew in close to his body, thickening, solidifying. As it faded to cool purple flesh he snapped his neck back to silently scream into the cosmos. His already massive bulk had doubled in thickness and his armor bulged at the seams.

As he slowly drew his head back down, his eyes towards the camera, the first facial change to come into notice was his mouth. Where before he had a mouth of diverse white teeth, he now had two rows on each jaw. Instead of flat molars and sharp incisors, he had backwards curved fangs, interlocking in front of a seemingly scaled tongue. His pupils had vanished into a pool of blood red iris. His horns had followed suit, giving way to a three-pointed crown, surrounding a glossy cranial jewel. As his tail swung into view, a fourth spike came into view.

"I will not hold back. I will not restrain myself anymore."

His extreme musculature began to darken in tone as it condensed back into his core. In a matter of moments he had returned to normal proportions, although his height was still nearly triple that of background soldiers. Red energy began to bleed from him once more, in addition to quickly burning away any trace of armor on the emperor, it migrated to specific points around his body. His eyes nearly gained a visor, a new, long, gem bridging the gap between his biological crown and his brow. The ki on his torso went from wrapping around his shoulders, over his ribs, to focused in a three-dimensional diamond shape pressed into his sternum. On his elbows and knees similar ki constructions set, smaller, but just as reflective under the starlight. His tail swung to the side, now tipped in a crimson stinger.

"I have never fought in my fourth form before. I wonder if I can achieve my fifth before we meet."