It had been about six months since Ginyu returned to the Planet Trade Organization. Things were going relatively smoothly, at the very least with no one aside from a few small pirate groups attempting to attack the mothership in which Ginyu resided. As time waned on, however, the captain felt that something was off. He was growing stronger, certainly, but nevertheless he was slowly approaching a wall. One he couldn't overcome alone.
With a towel on his shoulder, he went to his king's throne room, hoping for some royal advice. Sadly, the throne room only housed a janitor, leaning on the emperor's chair smoking a cigarette. "You."
The janitor looked to the left and the right, and then pointed at himself in surprise.
"Yes, you. Where has the king gone?"
He gave a shrug. The nonchalant way he did so agitated Ginyu to no end. The king would certainly not respect those who put so little emotion into what they did. In response, the captain sent out a single beam of ki into the janitor's heart, cleanly piercing it without as much as a drop of blood coming from the hole. Unfortunately, however, the cigarette dirtied the regal floor. Ginyu would find answers elsewhere.
Sorbet's door swung open, seeing Ginyu in quite a strange manner indeed. He was holding a wet mop and had a tiny janitor's hat (relative to the Captain's current proportions) placed on one of the king's horns. He was also holding a corpse on his left shoulder. Not an incredibly interesting barge into his room, at least by Ginyu's standards. "Our men aren't as expendable as they've been in the past, captain."
Ginyu let off a small scoff. "Certainly not as diligent either". He pointed a finger at the former janitor. "This man couldn't clean a bathroom, much less a throne room!"
"And so you did it yourself."
"Of course!" Ginyu daintily placed one massive foot in front of the other, as well as moving his arms off to the side, moving them up and down in a manner that imitated the light flow of a river. The corpse fell off his shoulder because of this. "Such grace isn't limited to merely poses, you know!"
Sorbet paid no mind to the glorious pose he had struck, shifting his eyes downwards at the janitor. "Yes, I see." He then shifted it to the datapad he had been reading before the captain barged in. "Was that all?"
"No," Ginyu said, lifting the janitor back onto his shoulder as he spoke. "I'd like to know where King Cold is."
"Oh!" Sorbet finally directed his full focus to Ginyu. "He said he wanted to go to 'Grap's Tavern' on Drunge.''
"Drunge? Near the edge of the empire?"
"Far outside the borders now, actually," Sorbet corrected. "We've lost a lot of territory since Lord Frieza and King Cold passed on." He looked back at the datapad, which featured a map of the known universe. Alongside it were notes detailing a battle plan the commander had been forming to reconquer said territory. "While we're on the topic..."
When the commander looked back to face the captain, he was nowhere to be seen. Of course. Why had he expected anything different? Sorbet looked once more at his device. Eventually, once the Saiyans had finally been defeated, all of this planning would be respected. He knew it. Turning the datapad off, he sighed, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments. With not much else to do without the king or the captain around, Sorbet decided to take a break to see just how well Ginyu had cleaned the throne room.
The captain stepped upon the rough purple soil of Drunge. A slight inconvenience for a man that didn't wear shoes, but nothing more. He swiped his cape to the side, having it flow with the light breeze, and started surveying the area. Bright lights shown from within metal flooring, surrounding the landing bay and lead along to form a pathway leading to the economic glory of Drunge: a tower of pure gold, at least sixty stories tall, and adorned with silver.
Continuing to gaze at the structure, Ginyu had begun walking towards it, reminiscing on old times. He had been here once with Frieza for diplomatic relations. The lord had graciously allowed the planet to carry on with their operations for a mere third of their total earnings. As expected, the owners certainly managed fine enough all these years later, despite their grating whines at the time. It seemed to him like it grew even taller since he last arrived. The captain couldn't help but smirk.
Stepping into the tower too was a familiar sight; there was an outer circle of small desks with caterers to validate entry for the many entrances into the tower. The rest of the space was filled with grumbling patrons in lines towards the numerous elevators at the center of the floor, enveloped in tubes. He stepped up to the counter, eloquently placing one of his hands on the desk. The man at the desk - skin a dark blue - was wearing a tuxedo. Ginyu didn't bother to make note of any more of his physical features.
"Good evening, sir! What wonderful service would you like to use today?" the man said with a smile. Ginyu could notice it was strained.
"I'd like to go to 'Grup's Tavern'."
"Excellent choice!" He slid a piece of paper and a pen off from a massive pile and handed it to the Captain. "Please sign this liability waiver!"
Of course, nothing in this tower could even leave a scratch on him, so he didn't even bother to try to read the minuscule font and simply gave his signature. Considering it had been a while not only since he had a massive body, but also a body that could write with a pen, it was a miracle that the writing was even somewhat legible.
The paper was slid underneath the counter. "Thank you! That will be 3,000 credits!"
Ginyu pulled out his Super Special Galactic Credit Card and handed it over. While the relatively high prices were certainly a bit of a turn off, the place's lack of style was the main reason the captain hadn't come here more than once. No modest decorations, no sense of coherent theming, nothing. A tower of phoneys and fools, he had always thought.
Though if the king had come here who was he to judge?
After a swipe, a few ticks and tacks and a glance back at the waiver, the man handed Ginyu back the Credit Card, along with an additional smaller keycard. "Here's your keycard, sir! Elevator #6 will take you to 'Grup's'! Have a-"
Ginyu ignored the man's additional ramble, walking to the line with the designated elevator, indicated by a neon green light. This elevator was designated for more giant (or simply portly) fellows. It was less costly for the owners to just create a singular, large tube rather than having every elevator fit for accommodating sizes.
After a few minutes of waiting behind the grotesque proportions of the patrons in line, Ginyu got to the elevator. Stepping inside, there was a single keycard slot, a restriction in place so that the patrons only get what they paid for and nothing more. With the card inserted, the tube flew up with a "schwoop". The captain stood there with only a few occasional "boops" to indicate the tube going up a floor. Eventually, the movement stopped and the doors opened.
Stepping out, all he could see were gaudy displays of grandeur. Red carpeting, golden handrails, abundant chandeliers - the works. Ginyu couldn't help but cringe at the fakeness of it all. The carpet was uncomfortable to step on - the fibers scratching at his soles, the handrails were obviously painted over to give the appearance of gold - fool's gold, and the chandeliers blasted blinding light in his eyes. He quickly shifted his eyes away from the latter.
To his right was a set of small steps, elevating downwards towards an array of tables. Several people were sitting there munching and slurping food and drink, creating quite a lot of babble. Beside those tables, and what created even more babble, were slot machines. These were ever so generously placed there so that patrons didn't have to waste additional money to buy another keycard for one of the many casinos residing within Drunge's tower. The machines filled the entire wall, 30 feet wide and, of course, every seat was filled. The clicks and clacks and beeps and boops and slurps and munches all mixed together to brew the unique cacophony present at Grup's Tavern.
To his left, on the other hand, was the famous bar itself, with bathrooms close by it. Ginyu, at the very least, could make note of its simplicity: a wall lined with drinks, and a clean table with the bartender taking people's orders. There were still a few overly extravagant pleasantries - such as the table made of maroon mahogany - but otherwise it was surprisingly rural. After scanning the side for a moment, he saw his king's frogley physique, lying on the table with several empty glasses of wine in front of him. He was swirling his finger around the rim of one of the glasses as well.
"My king!" Ginyu proclaimed, jogging to the right of Cold's seat. The king turned his head slowly, eyes squinting to make out who this guy was.
"Heya, subconscious me. Sorry 'bout drinkin' so much, I'm sure that's made you as dull as a butter knife."
The captain, being too big to sit on the provided seats, simply kneeled on his knees and pushed himself down enough so that his king was on the higher level. "Actually, Lord Cold, it's Captain Ginyu," he corrected.
"Right, right, good ol' cap. Hold on, I'll getcha a drink." Cold then raised his hand up in the air, leading the bartender over to the pair. He was a thin, grasshopper-like creature with tinted green skin and six arms. "Get my pal here a large bottle of Mr. Nectarine Wine." The bartender gave a slight nod and took away the quantity of glasses in front of the emperor. "Oh, an' get me one too," Cold shouted. The bartender rolled his eyes. As long as he could pay the bill, at least.
The old captain had a wide smile. Lord Cold had called him a "pal". It took nearly all of his concentration to not immediately shift into the dance of joy. Truly, Ginyu was blessed to return to his home.
"You know why you're in my body, Cap'in?"
Ginyu shook his head, hastily breaking out of his imagination. "No, my lord. I never felt it necessary to know your secrets," he answered stalwartly.
Cold paused for a moment, scratching the mahogany table. To be honest, he was asking Ginyu if he knew, because for the life of him he couldn't recall at the moment. Oh wait, no, there it was. "You know that Super Saiyan that beat my son to a pulp, yeah?"
"A Super Saiyan? That's who killed Lord Frieza?" For all those years, Ginyu never knew for sure who exactly killed Frieza. He certainly knew it had to be one of those rebels on Namek, but he never knew what exactly did him in. There was always the idea of the Super Saiyan in the back of his mind, but there was never any confirmation until then. "That Vegeta..."
"Hm? What'dya mean, Cap'in?" Cold looked inquisitively at Ginyu as the bartender brought the two bottles of wine. The emperor then swiftly focused his attention on the alcoholic beverage, and began prying the cork.
"Well, my lord, Vegeta must have been the Super Saiyan you spoke of. I was there on Namek, so I have first-hand experience from who was on that planet. Vegeta's the only fitting candidate."
Cold was struggling to take off his cork, pulling and prodding at it. "Oh, I see, ya misunderstood me. I already got who he was a long time ago. It was this guy named uh," - Cold stopped pulling the cork for a moment, instead swirling his finger around it before continuing - "...I never did get his name. Well the first one who beat my son was this guy named Goku, so let's call the other guy 'Goku Two'. Goktwo, for short." Finally, the cork popped, spewing bubbly goodness. "Catchy, don't ya think, Cap'in?" Cold said as he guzzled down the bottle.
The captain's mind started to whirl with the amount of information thrown at him all at once.
Him. Goku. Yes. How could he ever forget that man?
The humiliation he felt from the man not only placing him within a frog's body for 17 years, not only leading his men to a certain death, but now realizing that somehow - by what must have been a one in a trillion stroke of luck - defeated Lord Frieza. Somehow, someway, that naive fool of a monkey achieved the form of legend.
And yet his mind quickly wandered elsewhere. "Another Super Saiyan killed Lord Frieza?"
Already, Cold's bottle was half guzzled. "Yup. Killed me too, yessir. Though I guess ya don't know how that feels do ya, Cap'in?" The king swished his bottle over to the captain's, expecting one of those formal "tinks" between glasses. When the captain didn't follow, the king continued to drink.
Ginyu stood up, out of surprise more than anything. "K-Killed you, sire?" His mind began racing to determine what exactly Cold meant by that, but, in the end, he couldn't imagine any satisfactory conclusion. "Apologies, King Cold, but I don't quite understand."
"Got blasted in the chest by that second Ultra Saiyan, went down to Hell and got brought back with them uh...ceramic orbs. The works."
Once more, Ginyu's mind rushed, struggling to take in all of these revelations. The Super Saiyan of legend, once in a millennium, was now apparently once every decade. Both his prince and king were killed by this random nobody. Bring it all together in a bow with what must have been the Dragon Balls to bring his lordship back from the dead (from what Ginyu quickly concluded in his mind). It was nearly unbelievable. Incomprehensible, despicable, rejectable...
Ginyu couldn't hold it back any longer. Swirling out from the booth, the captain brought his arms together, clenched his fists and threw them up into the air. This was augmented by his left leg being stretched out far behind him while his right kneeled. Swiftly, he spun his left leg around 180 degrees, using the right as an axis of rotation. His arms flew apart as he allowed his hand to fall to the floor - palms upward facing. Finally, he once more spun, this time his left leg lifted up, to the hand-railing and dramatically held his back to it, allowing his back to bend over. His hand was placed on his forehead in a manner that was similar to an old woman fainting.
This was the newly created "Dance of Overwhelming Circumstances."
King Cold gave a few claps while the other patrons either stared at the man worryingly or didn't pay him any mind at all. Who would care about the latter when they weren't members of Ginyu's audience?
"Great job, cap. Very dramatic and the like." Cold by now had finished his drink. "Would've been a little better if ya used my actual true form, but hey, ya win some ya lose some."
Hearing this, Ginyu nearly went into a reprise of his improvised dance, but held firm. "My lord...you have more transformations?"
"Yup."
"You - the apex of the universe - have a form more majestic than the king I reside in now?"
"Yup."
Suddenly, Ginyu's mind was clear. "You, the ever gracious being that you are, took it upon yourself to save my life. If I were not in this restrictive form you placed me in, my fragile soul would've been overwhelmed by the power residing in that of a god! This was..." Ginyu flexed his arm. "This was merely the first step in your plan to make yourself the apex of all reality! Of time, space and matter!" He quickly leaped onto the bar as he outstretched both of his arms. "This masterful plan was all because of your pregonative power and mental prowess! Tell me it is so, my lord! Allow your disciple to bask in your genius!"
"Uh…" Cold scratched his nose. "Yup."
The captain leaped off the bar, immediately falling on the ground into a kneel. "Thank you very much, my king!"
At this point, even in his drunken stupor, King Cold could recognize just how devout the man in front of him was. Loyal to an absolutely insane degree. Such loyalty is certainly hard to come by, you know. "You know, captain, I think ya deserve more than just bein' a captain."
Ginyu's head quickly shot up. "You mean it, sire?"
"Yeah, I think ya'd be better off as like a...Supreme Commander of the army."
The now Supreme Commander looked back down. "Thank you very much, my lord! I promise I won't let you down!"
"A'ight."
The bartender finally walked back to the duo, putting his hand out.
"Can you get the tab?"
"I won't let you down!" Ginyu proclaimed, drawing his Credit Card and slapping it onto the bartender's hand. The bartender, once again, rolled his eyes as he slipped the card into a slot. It was only a short while before it popped out again.
With the card handed back to Ginyu, the king stood up from his seat and wobbled to the elevator. The Supreme Commander followed close behind, scanning the area one more time. With that he realized there was one more question he had to ask. "My Lord, if you don't mind me asking, but did you come here in that body with no security?"
"Oh yeah." Cold turned his head to the bathrooms and belched out, "Hey, red guy, we're leavin'."
Ginyu could hear a few slams coming from the bathroom before Shisami came out a few seconds later. He had a handful of peanuts and a bit of toilet paper stuck to his foot. "Ok," Shisami said bluntly as he bit into a peanut, shell and all.
Shisami, being the designated driver for Cold, separated from Ginyu to go back on his ship with the king. Walking back, Ginyu couldn't be happier about this turn of events. His path he was walking on was clearly gold. And at the end of this path was the bright rainbow of victory.
Stepping into the control room, Ginyu snapped out of his dream, ready to take off. He realized that he was still holding his bottle - not an inch of its nectar spilt. Ginyu was more a fan of milkshakes, after all. Tossing it in a garbage can nearby, the commander lifted off from the landing platform.
As he flew upwards into the depths of space, he took one last look upon the planet of Drunge: a single spot of light amidst an all-encompassing purple.