44…45…46…

A dull thump of a body against the metal floor repeatedly filled the space around, mixing with the deep breaths of the man from his exertion and the hum of the artificial gravity equipment supplying the environment. The ordinary white light of the chambers were now a soft blue, meant to warn any unsuspecting person of the shift in gravity should they unknowingly stray into the space.

50…51…52…

With each mental note, Turles launched himself from the metal floor, soared into the air for a backflip, and landed back onto the floor with a smooth transition into a push-up. Clad in only a set of dark, spandex pants, each drop to the floor yanked more sweat from the Saiyan's body and littered the metal floor beneath him. However, the toasty temperature he set for the gravity chamber didn't allow the fluid to set for long.

...58…59…60…

As the repetition of the task grew more automatic, the Saiyan found his mind wandering. Flashes from their last meeting with Frost came through before being followed by thoughts of what their day of reckoning would look like.

From the day Frieza took over the Saiyan race, Turles had dreamt of the day that lizard would fall and his "empire" right behind him. It wasn't until his home planet had been destroyed that the Saiyan knew he could no longer wait for Frieza's fall to come. He had to deliver it – by himself if need be.

Thankfully, after sneaking out from under the PTO's thumb, he didn't have to plot alone. He found his brothers in arms. First, Diaz – a prince from a fallen race who'd been snuck off planet by his faithful subjects the day the PTO invaded. Then there were the twins, Raisin and Lakesei – members of a super-intelligent race that had been enslaved by Frieza. Next came Amond, the sullen soldier who'd fought in his own home's war against the PTO. He, amongst his other brethren, had been captured and meant to be enslaved. Amond, being the unyielding force he was, led a revolt on one of the PTO's remote planets. In the ensuing fight, he managed to escape and bring along a near-lifeless comrade, Cacao. The two stumbled into Turles and, with the help of the twins, Cacao was restored as a cyborg. They both pledged their loyalty to the Saiyan's cause, and the Crusher Corps was established.

Still, in spite of their resolve to wage war against the PTO, they were missing the men and the power. Few had the courage to join such an – as so many cared to put it – unwinnable war. They saw the Crusher Corps as a noble cause, but also a futile one. King Cold, Frieza, and the PTO as a whole had become this insurmountable force in the universe. For many, their best hope for a better life was a life on the run.

For a while, Turles had begun to believe it himself. That is, until the day they found "the holy seeds." A peddler on a refugee planet had preached of an ancient prophesy that these seeds would bestow upon the worthy, a mighty tree with fruit to grant immeasurable power. Turles thought it was nonsense, but Amond had been enraptured in the spiel. The warrior had heard folk lore of a such a tree – that a millennia ago, the divine knights of the universe each had their own tree that they used to bestow power upon who they deemed worthy, but one day they'd been lost from this world and never to be seen again.

Skeptical, Turles allowed Amond to indulge his interests. They'd bought the seeds and found a planet that they figured bountiful enough to grow a tree. None of them had a green thumb. In fact, they knew next to nothing about cultivating a plant. Yet, after only three days of planting the seeds, a sprout had grown. What would follow shattered all doubt Turles had ever held.

In less than a week, the tree had grown to such a colossal stature. It was the most magnificent thing they had ever seen. Of course, they couldn't help noticing that the planet – once rich and fertile with life – had been turned to a wasteland, leaving death as the cost for their power. It had unsettled the Saiyan, made him feel like the monsters that he wished to eliminate from the universe.

And then, he ate of the fruit. The power that he gained, the rush of it entering his very veins, was thrilling. Not only did he feel immensely powerful, the scouters told him as well. In one serving, Turles's power level had doubled; the same for his men. With this newfound weapon, in no time, they'd be ready to squash the PTO.

He decided, for the sake of the entire universe, if one planet had to die to save countless others, then so be it.

With time though, things changed. Each bite from the fruit provided less of a boost in power. They'd gone from great strides to slow crawls. It was maddening. Their powers had grown tremendously, but they weren't ready for a war. If the rumors were true, Frieza alone couldn't still stomp them into the dirt with little effort. They needed something else to give them a leg up.

And then, entered Frost.

Seeing an Arcosian off Arcos was extremely rare. It was unsafe for most due to the poor reputation Cold and Frieza had established for them. So, if seen, they were usually protected and certainly didn't wander aimlessly. Frost, however, had been strolling the streets, completely ignorant to the long stares that she garnered by those around her. It was only after a fight had broken out between her and some of the other civilians that Turles had made his presence known to her. With the aid of his men, they stepped in and spared the woman from the ire of the people – although, the rest of the Crusher Corps had done it begrudgingly.

Alone, the two talked. While the others saw uselessness in her, Turles saw an opportunity to pick the brain of an Arcosian who likely knew much about the Cold family and Arcos. He never expected to learn that this woman was family to the very people that had plagued the universe for so long and also wanted to see them fall.

"I take it you're the Crusher Corps that I've heard whispers of around the palace," she'd said.

Was the PTO on to them already? How long did they have to prepare? They wouldn't be able to continue releasing the tree if they had to start a life on the run.

Frost didn't bring Turles news of a manhunt, though. She brought him a proposition, an offer to join her. She meant to bring down the PTO from the inside, and would allow his people to ride in with the final blow from the outside.

"Why would you turn coat against your own family?" he had asked.

"I serve my people. I don't serve my family and I do not serve the PTO," she had responded.

She prepared to leave, promising to do what she could to throw them off of the Crusher Corps trail as long as they swore to be ready for the call to arms when it should come.

It took months of covert conversations between the two – time in which Turles had moved closer to Arcos and the PTO HQ territory, and had grown bolder in his mini-attacks that granted them more tech, money, and liberated a few slaves – before Turles trusted Frost enough to show her the tree. She had partaken in the devouring, and too had become hooked on the surge of energy. A new deal had been brokered, in which Frost would join them at every other sampling to grow her power.

Though his and his men's own power continued to crawl with each feast, the added boost of Frost's power, her support in their covert missions, and her promise to aid them when the time was right filled the Saiyan with a resolve that he hadn't felt since the day the Crusher Corps were first formed.

They were on track to overthrow the monstrosity known as the Planet Trade Organization, and now with Frost's plan to take effect in less than a month, Turles's Saiyan cravings for a fight were gnawing at him incessantly.

...100!

With a final launch into the air, Turles flipped and landed upright, breathing a deep sigh before wiping his brow.

"Computer! Back to normal settings!" he commanded, as the woman's robotic voice echoed his demand and the lights turned back to their normal hue, as well as the gravity becoming less straining.

With a hefty sigh, Turles turned to a nearby bench and walked over. Snatching a towel and bottle of water up, he took a seat. The towel swiped his forehead while he turned the bottle upright and nearly emptied it in one big gulp. The towel wiped over his face then, blocking his eyes momentarily, before he began wiping at his torso. Before finishing though, he looked to the doorway, finding Daiz standing in the entryway.

"We've found something when you're ready, Turles," the former prince spoke.

After a quick shower, Turles stepped into the command center, dawned in his usual attire. At the commander's chair sat Lakesei with his brother standing right next to him. Amond, Cacao, and Daiz also gathered around as they looked at the screen before them.

Turles drew closer, mixing into the group his eyes took in the lush foliage of the planet before them. The drones were hard at work scouring the planet. From what he could see, it was 90% greenery. The sight brought a smile to his face.

"By the time this tree is ready, we'll be ready," Amond spoke, too sporting a smile.

"And the PTO won't know what him 'em," Lakesei added.

"For the universe, Crusher Corps," Turles spoke, and broke a toothy grin as they all cheered.

"FOR THE UNIVERSE!"

FHFHFHFHFHFH

Soon enough, the Crusher Corps brought their spaceship down to the planet's surface, landing in a grassy opening in the lush forest surrounding them. One at a time, they disembarked, each looking around in joy at what this last harvest will mean for them.

However, Amond was the first to make note of the oddity of the planet as he made a move to open up the ground to plant the seed.

Cacao was rubbing at the glistening leaf from one of the surrounding shrubs when he realized how resistant it was to plucking.

Daiz knelt down and tried to rub his hand across the grass below them, only to yank his hand away and yelp in pain at the cut he received.

"The grass and leaves aren't real," Lakesei spoke as he irritably tugged on a plant at his side.

His brother walked over to a nearby fruit and picked it up, marveling at its weight. "Neither are the fruits," Raisin added, before slinging it over to Turles.

The Saiyan caught it easily enough, but was in awe as well as he tried to squeeze it. "It's…metal?" he spoke, bewildered.

"A metalloid to be exact," a deep voice greeted them from above.

All eyes turned upward, but found themselves shielding their eyes as their visitor hovered right in front of the sunlight. The figure had a humanoid shape, but its skin was just as beaming as the "foliage" surrounding them.

"Who are you?" Turles barked to the trespasser, continuing to shield his eyes from the glare.

The figure didn't speak at first, allowing a silent pause to grow eerie as he hovered. But then, they all found themselves startling when his right arm moved to point down at them. Their warrior instincts were prepped for a battle, but what came next floored them.

"I'm your general," the figure spoke before his arm spread out into a gunky mass and rained down over all of them.

The little alien girl was curled up on a bench, snuggling her doll as she dreamt. The smallest smile was on her dirt-smudged face – her mind far from whatever horrors had befallen the people of this planet.

Her peace brought a smile to Nosa's faces as he watched from afar.

"Are you getting anything?" Onen's voice sounded, drawing Nosa's attention.

"No, nothing yet, sir," the soldier replied as he and two others worked at a computer station.

The look of irritation on the Saiyan's face said more than words could.

Since the awe-striking declaration of the young girl earlier, everyone had moved out of plain sight. The previous troop had established a base in what seemed to be an old, abandoned castle. The structure was quite dilapidated, but with some well-placed tents and tension rods, it held up well against most weather.

Around the Yadratian, the soldiers were hard at work. Since fully reconvening, it had become clear that one search party hadn't returned, much to Onen's chagrin. Now, they were trying to get in contact, but from what Nosa could overhear, things weren't going well.

"To what region were they deployed?"

"Quadrant 6, sir. It seems that their scouters went offline somewhere in zone 3."

"Should we dispatch the drones?" a soldier asked.

Onen scoffed. "I would rather storm the quadrant and see who dares to trifle with us," he spoke, his words edged in disdain.

"But, that would be unwise," Leek spoke, capturing the Saiyan and soldiers' attentions. The tall, brute of a man ignored the glared Onen offered him, and instead added, "If we don't know what we're dealing with, then we should not be mounting up to charge headfirst into it."

"That's a good point, lieutenant." The emphasis on Leek's rank pulled a scowl onto the man's face and earned Onen a pointed glare.

A heated conversation between the two soon erupted, a debate over recklessness and over-caution. Nosa was surprised. He didn't see Leek as the argumentative type. Then again, by this point it was pretty obvious that Onen's judgment hadn't been the best as of recent.

As the two continued on, the Yadratian decided to retire from the noise. Briefly, he glanced over to the youngling – making note of her continued peace despite the racket – and turned away from the scene. One of several openings darting the walls of the castle brought Nosa out onto an elevated catwalk, allowing him to overlook what must've been a beautiful kingdom years ago.

Now, all that greeted him in this view were ruins, plant overgrowth, and heavy, dark, and looming clouds.

The soft click of heels caught his attention, but he could sense the approach long before.

"Sneaking off?" Riva's sultry voice spoke as she stepped over to Nosa's side.

Nosa smiled. He didn't expect to have her recognition again anytime soon. "Thinking about it," he replied before turning to meet the woman's grey eyes. "Didn't you hear? There are zombies running amuck."

It was Riva's turn to smile, sweeping away a strand of hair as she looked out to the horizon. "I've heard of crazier things."

"You and me both."

A silence fell on the two as they stood there, absently watching their surroundings. Nosa wanted speak, but didn't want to chance another argument. Thankfully, he didn't have long to wait before Riva spoke up.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

The question reminded him of their first meeting before she threatened his life, but as he turned to look upon her – Riva mirroring his movement – he found seriousness in her eyes. She wasn't being impish this time.

Nosa reluctance must've been written all over his face. Riva continued with, "You don't readily involve yourself in the PTO and seem abhorrent to violence. Yet, you don't shy away from a fight and when you thought that little girl was in peril, you looked prepared to barrel through everyone one of us to protect her. These aren't the traits of a PTO soldier. You don't want to be here, and I am certain that you're strong enough that most couldn't force you to stay. So, why be here?"

Nosa's eyes cast down as he weighed the decision. Cooler didn't even fully know why he was there. Frankly, he never felt the need to explain himself – least of all to the bloodthirsty monsters in the PTO. But, Riva wasn't bloodthirsty, and she most certainly wasn't a monster.

After another pause, Riva began to waive her question, but was silenced as Nosa spoke.

"What is the color of my skin?" he spoke.

The Heran looked confused. "…green?"

Nosa nodded. "Where I come from this is not only abnormal, but deemed accursed. We – the green – are the sick ones. Folk lore tells a tale of doom for all those that house the sick ones. Disease, misfortune, poverty – name it and the sick ones are to blame on Yadrat."

He took a chance and looked over to Riva. Her focused gaze spurred him on.

"In the old days, we were burned. Fire was the only way to rid our sickness from the world. In modern times, though, developments in science proved that our pigmentation was not some curse, but merely a genetic abnormality that was only skin deep. Lynches were outlawed and movements began to establish the sick ones as members of society, but that didn't really end the killings and injustice. It just became less overt.

I was born to a family of normals – as many of us were – and I was tossed out like trash – as many of us were. Most of my life was spent on the streets or relegated to the slummy communities that the sick ones were forced into. I've been attacked, nearly killed twice."

Nosa paused for a moment, as if reimagining his hardship. Riva patiently waited.

"I grew…angry, vengeful. I wanted every normal to feel what I felt. If that world were to burn to nothing, I'd pray to be the one who lit the match. But my hatred for the normals was stifled when I met…Shree." He sighed heavily, his hand grasping into a tight fist. "She was one of few who seen me for more than my skin. Shree loved me, and I loved her.

We had a child, my daughter Neri. She was a normal, and I cried tears of joy the day she was born because I knew that she wouldn't have to endure the hardships that I had." The tear that rolled down his cheek stopped him. With a whispered swear, he wiped it away and continued.

"But their love, as much as it meant to me, couldn't overcome my hatred for the rest. I joined a militant faction and learned the ways of combat. We attacked normal institutions, destroyed normal property, and stole normal technology. We aimed to harm them in every way that they'd ever hurt us. One day, though, we were caught. I managed to flee. A purge of sorts erupted on Yadrat. Many sick ones died. For my safety, I left the planet, leaving behind Shree and Neri with the belief that, as normals, they would be safe and with the promise that I'd come for them and we'd start a new life elsewhere…"

"They weren't safe," Riva spoke, guessing once Nosa had grown totally silent.

Nosa's silence persisted a moment longer before his head dropped. "They killed the sick ones and the unclean ones – the normals that dared to associate with the sick ones. My selfishness killed the only family I'd ever known, and I wasn't even there to die by their side."

"You were fighting for your injustice!" Riva chimed, but Nosa wasn't looking for validation.

"I was looking for vengeance. Those two are not the same," he spoke, standing upright once more. "After learning of their fate, I traveled the galaxy. Taking part in whatever, doing…whatever. For a while, things were blurry. I faintly remember a lot of alcohol, a lot of unsavory characters, and a lot of criminal activity. I am quite good at stealing things.

Then, one drunken night in a bar, the PTO invaded the planet. I fought off many, but I was well off my A-game and was captured. I remember being in that dungeon under the palace, shackled to the walls while the scum that was my fellow prisoners took out their frustration on me. And finally, after all of that, I met Cooler. He offered me a proposition that I never dreamt could be possible – the chance to have my family back in exchange for my loyalty to him. I took it, knowing what that might mean by joining the PTO.

Cut to now and here I stand in all my forlorn glory – a soldier for the most despised organization in the universe and in servitude to who may be one of the most evil people in the universe, and still no family in sight."

"Cooler's word is more valuable than his father's or brother's, Nosa. If he swore to get your family back, I believe that he will," Riva asked.

Nosa only just then realized the awkwardness of explaining his family to a woman that he'd grown affectionate of, but as the moment came, he felt the gentle sweeping of her hand across his face, pulling his gaze to hers. Riva game him a warm smile.

"I would love to meet them one day," she spoke.

The warmth of her touch nearly drew Nosa closer to the woman, but as their tension grew, a soldier appeared in the opening and called them forth.

"Commander Onen calls for you!"

While changes in temperature didn't necessarily impact the biology of Arcosians – never having to worry about things like frostbite or heat exhaustion – it didn't mean that they couldn't feel the changes. As such, for someone that was born and raised on an ice planet, Cooler always considered excursions to warm climates a vacation. Even more so, he enjoyed indulgences that took advantage of heat, especially hot water baths.

The galactic tyrant released a refreshed sigh as he sank deeper into the warm liquid, casually laying his head back. For the briefest of moments, he forgot about the Earthlings and the damned Super Saiyan, as well as his brother and the impending doom of his father.

Right then, Cooler didn't want to leave his warm comfort.

Of course, just trying to forget about his complicated life just made it rush back to the forefront of his mind.

Another sigh, this one of aggravation, Cooler opened his eyes and looked up at the stone ceiling.

Goku. He wasn't a threat, barely even a problem in the grand scheme of things. Cooler could go on about his life and he and the Saiyan would probably never even see each other again. But he was an objective – a goal. Surpassing Frieza used to be his goal, and he worked tirelessly to get there. Now, he had to do the same with the Super Saiyan before he could claim his rightful place at the throne of the galaxy.

And then there was his father.

King Cold. He had a near air-tight explanation for Frieza's downfall on Namek. Honestly, it was barely a lie. Had Cooler not shown up, Goku would've likely still gone Super Saiyan and defeated Frieza. Now, though, Cooler had to decide to how to proceed.

How could he explain Frieza's defeat and his subsequent escape? Could he really tell his father that Goku let him escape because he wanted to let Cooler train and come back for a rematch?

That probably wouldn't fly.

Cooler sighed again. Now he wasn't even enjoying the bath anymore.

"My lord?" a voice called out followed by the soft thump of boots.

"I'm in here, Kee," Cooler called out, looking over his shoulder as the planet's leader appeared.

"Still enjoying the bath, I see!" Don Kee remarked with a warm smile, walking around the perimeter of the large room. "I had the maiden add these lovely oils from Planet Char. It's extracted from the gorgeous par-par lotus. I really must show you…"

"What do you want?" Cooler interjected before the man could continue. Kee's prattling reminded Cooler a lot of Frieza, someone he could use less reminders of.

Kee looked crestfallen to be stopped short, but continued on. "Well, it has been about four days since you've arrived. I understand that you are very adamant about leaving soon, but -,"

Cooler leveled the man with a deadly glare.

Kee gulped. "…but, my engineers inform me that the repairs on your pod aren't going as planned. Some of the navigation software has been severely damaged. They might have to completely reconfigure it, which will be a lengthy process. Lord Cooler, please tell me, did you have any issues with it when you were en route to the planet?"

Cooler's leer was lifted as he considered the question, and quite vividly remembered the chain of events that stranded him there. "When I entered the atmosphere, there was an error regarding the landing. The pod made an attempt to reroute its travel, but instead of flying back out into space, it charged into the dirt, stranding me here."

"I see…" Kee said while watching Cooler…actually, observing him.

Under the man's gaze, the tyrant felt unnerved. "What is it?"

Blinking away the thoughtful gaze, Kee responded with, "Pardon me, my lord, but…are you feeling well?"

Cooler flashed back to his bout with Ledgic and his troubles with training. It had been a one-off day, though. Since then, he's been able to train with little trouble, and he vehemently wanted a rematch with Legic. "I'm fine."

Don Kee hummed tentatively. "Okay. I was just under the impression that your people didn't perspire. Maybe it's just the humidity. Anyhow, I will relay your words to the engineers and dinner will be ready very soon. My chefs prepared a seafood course just for your Arcosian palate."

And with that, Don Kee slipped out of the bath room, leaving Cooler perplexed as he wiped his brow.

The warm air of the planet wicked at Onen's skin as he and the soldiers zipped through the air. Despite the heated protest of Leek, and even the gentle suggestions of Riva and Nosa, the Saiyan had decided that the best move to salvage their mission was to tackle this situation head on.

It's what Lord Cooler would've done, Onen constantly reminded himself.

The Saiyan had worked with Leek and Riva for many years. He respected their thoughts, but the success of this mission was Onen's weight to bear, and he wasn't going to turn tail and run. This obstacle would be met with the full force of the PTO and the might of Cooler's troops.

The scouter covering his eye suddenly chimed, gaining the Saiyan's attention. They had nearly reached their destination.

He turned to look over his shoulder at Leek, Riva, and Nosa. With one nod, his command was conveyed.

Following his lead, they dropped out of the sky. What greeted them below was another city of ruins on nearly the opposite side of the planet. The unit dove into the city and took to the back alleys as they moved – darting around in the shadows like ninjas as they moved. Using his scouter as a guide, Onen led them on the trail of the lost soldiers.

In no time, they reached the outskirts of the city – where the remnants of paved road and dilapidated buildings gave way to the forest. Just past the edge of the city, a giant area of grassland opened up before reaching into the distant trees.

Right then, though, that open space was completely consumed by the hoard of denizens that had been missing from the planet – their troops included – and they were all following in an orderly line into a massive spaceship. Whatever control they once had over their bodies was surely gone as they moved, stepping in unison, one foot at a time. And while the people were being herded into the spacecraft like cattle, one lone figure stood above it all with a large computer device in hand as he seemed to oversee the situation from his post at a stand protruding atop the spaceship.

The sight was ghastly to the soldiers hidden behind the ruins.

"What the hell is this?" Riva awed in a hushed tone, but no one had an answer. They could only look on in awe.

Onen scoffed. "We need to move closer," he spoke. "We'll move around, flank them, and storm them as a unit. Beta troop take their twelve and gamma will take their –,"

"No."

The word stopped Onen cold. With a look of frustration, the Saiyan turned around to address the speaker. He half expected to find a defiant Leek once again, but instead found himself marveling at the defiant stance of the grunt soldiers. Aside from Nosa, Riva, and Leek, all of the soldiers had moved away from their secluded post and leveled Onen with a venomous glare.

"We don't take orders from dirty Saiyans," they all spoke in unison.

While Onen, Leek, Riva, and Nosa found their voices stolen in shock, another booming voice piped up.

"Don't be shy, my friends," the voice bellowed. "Come out so that we may get more acquainted."

The sane ones looked between one another, as if weighing their options, but as their zombified men suddenly raised their blasters to them, they decided to step out.

Standing in the open and with full view of the scene before them, it was hard for the foursome not to be taken aback at the sight. All of the denizens had stopped their migration into the spaceship and now stood facing them, their eyes glazed over and expressions devoid of the slightest emotion.

Their men took up post at their back, blasters still trained on them while the lone figure standing atop the spaceship turned to regard them. The men held their composure well enough, but Riva released a shocked gasp when the man moved the large computer out from in front of him to show the grotesque disfigurement of his face – a stray bone protruding from the right side of his head, the eternally blood shot eye and scar-adorned skin. Despite his features, the man broke into a wide and sickening grin as he looked down on them all.

"My name is Dr. Raichi, and as of this moment, you belong to me!"