Harsh static roared through the air. It was low at first, more like the gentle, distant hum of some far off engine than a roaring, screaming device, but within seconds, its hum rose to a scream and bounced off metal walls, reverberating around over and over again, growing louder with every moment the transceiver was on. Black durasteel walls did nothing to stem the rising pitch of the blank noise, and soon enough its violent shriek became too much- the entire vessel could hear it. The grainy, garbled sound grew louder and louder until at long last, a hand reached forward and gently twisted a small knob. With a single, slow movement, the frequency changed and the static warped, its signal becoming weaker the further to the left the knob was twisted, until eventually something else began to force its way through the sonic blizzard.
Low at first, the new sound emerged from the static like a figure through snow. Muffled beneath the endless cacophony of screaming white, it restated itself a few more times until eventually it managed to fight its way through. Emerging from the tumultuous canvas of shrieking white was a voice. One familiiar to those in the room. One that silenced them just as easily as it silenced the static. "...This is General Garkos, making an emergency call to any and all remaining Rebellion fighters! If you can hear this, please respond!" He paused, and just as he did, the room was quick to fill the void left behind with nothing more than deafening silence. After a moment, it seemed that Garkos was the only one willing to break it. "Our war isn't finished yet. To any and all remaining members of the Rebellion to End the Empire or our allies, I am requesting immediate evacuation at the location provided by this broadcast." He continued, then paused again, and as he did, it became clear why. This message had not always been a recording, he was offering anyone who might have heard him a chance to respond. "I've managed to evade the Crusher Corps for the time being. I can't say when they'll be back, but I am not requesting this evacuation for myself. I am in the company of exactly thirteen refugees of a recent attack by the Crusher Corps. Men, women, but primarily children! They need food, water, and shelter. If anyone- anyone at all- can hear this message, please send immediate aid! As for myself..." He goes quiet for a moment, as though considering. "When you arrive... I will not be present. Myself and one other are enroute to take the Crusher Corps out at the source. Upon arrival and retrieval of the refugees, make contact on this frequency. I'll be listening..." Defeated, he lets out a sigh. "This message will repeat until further notice. Coordinates are as follows." The voice then went on to describe coordinates that, when referenced, placed the exact positioning of the escape pod which had been used to send the message. And then it repeated.
Until slowly, the knob was turned, and it all faded back into static.
Garkos grit his teeth as he flew back through what felt like a dozen walls. Neo-Concrete shells were followed by Ionized Iron bars. Construction material for the castle. Sturdy enough to build entire megacities out of, durable enough to last for hundreds of years under the right conditions, and completely and utterly worthless at halting his momentum. Cacao had hit him hard enough that the man didn't stand a chance at recovery, and each successive wall he slammed into was only making it harder for him to focus. It was only when the Zaltian finally burst through the last wall and felt the cool, open air of the forest-moon that he was able to take control of his trajectory. His aura ignited around his body and his eyes snapped open, and suddenly he soared high into the air. As he flew, Garkos felt the brush of leaves against his back- he'd been just in time to avoid hitting the treeline directly, a few more seconds and he would likely have slammed into the forest itself.
Disregarding that fact for now, but keeping it in the back of his mind, Garkos quickly shot his hand towards the exit hole he'd made. Energy converged in his palm for a second, then quickly took the shape of an orb. Garkos flung the ball of light down towards the area he'd come through. It exploded on impact, detonating with enough force to collapse the hole his body had made entirely. Once it hit its mark, Garkos stopped his ascent and took a deep breath in, then quickly let out a roar. Energy raced from his core and surrounded his body as he shouted. Then, that power suddenly grew tight and wrapped itself around his skin. More and more it shrank until all of the gathered energy formed itself over his hand. He reached his opposing hand over and grabbed onto the "blade" of energy he'd created. He stretched the amorphous blob of light with both hands, pulling it and forcing it to take on a more defined shape. Daggers were his go-too, but against Cacao they would be of no use. The metal his body was made from was specially designed- only attacks of a certain caliber would be able to cut through him. Attacks such as Garkos' Lightburn.
The blade of the weapon was a dazzling golden color that blazed with all the fury of a raging star. Garkos lifted the weapon towards the sun, examining the hilt as he did. The hilt, which Garkos took hold of with both hands, was a denser, dimmer orange color. It wouldn't be an exceptionally durable weapon- that had always been Lightburn's greatest weakness. But what it lacked in terms of durability, it made up for in one specific way. The blade was thin, but the energy that made up its form was sharp and had been constructed in such a way that it would pierce through anything, all Garkos had to do was wield it properly. Cacao was one of Turles' more powerful lieutenants, but the last time Garkos checked, he had been substantially weaker than Garkos himself. 'No, that's probably not right any longer.' Garkos chastised himself. 'After what he did to Ko, Turles probably rewarded him with a Fruit. I'll need to be careful.'
Beneath him, the wall he'd collapsed shot open, followed swiftly by a blur of silvery steel and pale, pinkish flesh. Cacao was more than merely an alien warrior- he was partially mechanical, and the material those parts were made from was tough enough to stand up to most forms of attack, something that one of Garkos' own men had found out the hard way when she'd tried to best the Pirate in a fistfight. Garkos moved swiftly and braced himself just in time to avoid taking a head-on attack. Gold and silver clashed in the air as Garkos' blade struck against Cacao's silver-coated arm. Sparks erupted from the point of impact as energy grinded against the metal limb. Garkos' teeth bared themselves as he leaned down towards Cacao, glaring into the creature's soulless red eyes while pouring energy into his sword to keep it from breaking apart, "Murderer! What you did to my men, I won't forgive it! You'll pay for every life you've taken!"
"Perhaps." Intoned Cacao, his voice marred with electronic equipment, "But perhaps not. Lord Turles made his position clear, I will clean the mess Amond has caused. Dead or alive, you're coming with me, Garkos." Despite his words, the Cyborg couldn't seem to bring himself to speak with real emotion. Garkos had heard somewhere that Cacao had lost most of his body as part of an experiment to defend his planet and defeat the Ginyu Force during an invasion of his homeworld. It had ultimately failed, but it made the Cyborg one of the deadliest warriors in the Galaxy. There was an element of tragedy to the man, he'd lost much of what made him a person in exchange for power that not only didn't help him, but failed to save his people. That alone wasn't enough to get any sympathy out of Garkos. No matter his history, what Cacao had done in the years that followed was unforgivable. Slavery, murder, genocide on a planetary scale, all crimes that the man had either facilitated under Turles' direction or willing allowed to happen under his own command. And he was going to pay.
"Well, I hope you don't expect it to be easy!" Garkos twisted the blade suddenly, infusing it with more power and quickly swung his arms up, allowing him to slice through Cacao's arm and break the stalemate. While his enemy was off balance, Garkos was quick to follow up. He turned the blade and brought it back down. Its edge scratched across Cacao's torso, but the Crusher Corps member was just barely fast enough to pull back, preventing Lightburn from doing any more than leave a scratch a behind. "I'm going to avenge every single person that you monsters have slaughtered! Not one life goes unaccounted for!" Garkos pressed his advantage, forcing Cacao to quickly rush backwards through the air as he quickly slashed left. "For the women you've slaughtered! The men you've enslaved!" Garkos followed it up with a slash to Cacao's opposite side, which forced the Cyborg to reel back quickly, putting him in the perfect position for Garkos' final attack. He yanked his arm back before suddenly thrusting it forward, using a bit of energy to propel his body fast enough to stab into the Cyborg. "And for the children you've left orphaned."
Blood and oil drip down the blade, but it didn't stem from the Cyborg's chest. Cacao was fast and quick to bring his arm up to block the strike. Garkos' blade penetrated through the alien's arm, but he knew that wouldn't disable it completely. Whatever had been done to him on his homeworld, Cacao's body no longer operated like any organic's. It would take nothing short of a complete eradication of either his head or his torso to completely destroy the Pirate, and the complete decimation of any limb Garkos wanted removed for it to have any effect. Thinking quickly Garkos poured energy through his blade and into the metal. With enough power, he might just be able to completely fry the limb, but in his haste to injure his enemy, Garkos took his eyes off of Cacao directly. Garkos only vaguely became aware of a flash of bright pinkish light before suddenly a silver fist plunged itself into his chest and sent the man hurtling backwards, struggling to breathe, causing his blade to tear free of Cacao's arm in the process.
In the next moment, as Garkos reacted to the strike, his opponent vanished from view, then reappeared a bit to his right with his foot pulled back. Garkos braced himself for the impact and let go of Lightburn as he did. The blade vanished on the spot as Garkos clenched his eyes shut in a desperate bid to make this hurt as little as possible, but nothing could prepare the man for the pain of a solid silver boot planting itself in the temple behind his eye. As soon as it did, the world became a dazzling canvas of black spots and bright sparks. As a Zaltian, his eyes bulged just a bit from his head, and any hit to that area of his body could do permanent damage. Garkos had no time to worry about that fact though as he felt himself sinking like a stone towards the ground beneath him.
Garkos still struggled to breathe from the blow to his sternum, but finally let out a cough, then wheezed as the adrenaline started to dull the pain in his chest. He gripped his ribs as he fell, squeezing them tightly to lessen the throbbing, stinging pain that stabbed through the center of his chest with every breath, but felt himself slowly recovering with every passing second. He knew he didn't have much longer to recover before Cacao would follow up his attack and gritted his teeth before releasing a grunt of exertion as he unleashed his aura. The Zaltian sucked a breath in through his teeth and glared at the rapidly incoming ground through squinted eyes. Without thinking, his eyes widened and sent out a small kiai. The invisible energy bounced off the ground and shot back towards the General, just barely slowing his velocity down enough for him to fully recover. By now, Cacao had flung himself towards the General, and was rapidly gaining on him now that he'd stopped his momentum.
Garkos grinned, good. He was hoping Cacao would make the choice to continue in melee range. The Cyborg had probably expected him to have lost his blade during the attack, and for most men that would have been the case. But Garkos had trained with Energy Constructs for decades, and as the Space Pirate closed in on his prey, Garkos clenched his fist beneath his armpit, summoning the energy back to his hand. Rather than allow Lightburn to be destroyed when he lost his grip on it, Garkos had made sure to return to the energy to his body, keeping it localized within his palm so that when Cacao made his follow-up...
Schring!
Cacao went staggering backwards as the blade cut a gash in his eye. No blood dripped from the alien, but Garkos knew he'd hurt him based on how he reeled back, clapping a hand over the wound immediately. Garkos dashed forward, and Cacao quickly pulled his hand away from his eye before coating it in pink energy to block the man's incoming attack. Garkos' blade bounced off of the silver arm, but he used the momentum to follow up with another sidways cut, unwilling to give his enemy even a second to breathe. Garkos had made a mistake at the start of their fight, he'd assumed that Cacao had gotten no stronger than he had been when he'd killed his men on Cohbrin Six. Now he knew better, this was not the same Cyborg that had killed Ko. Golden and pink lights clashed in the air as energy struck metal, and Garkos leaned in. The battle had just begun.
For a throne room, it didn't seem very regal. The room was large, sure, and the throne was made of what Frieza could only assume was solid gold- and yes there was an official looking flag sitting behind the throne, but the animal heads mounted on the walls, the massive banquet table sitting at the end of the steps leading to the throne itself, covered in food and mead, it simply felt... undignified for anyone claiming to be a ruler. Only fitting for a Saiyan, Frieza supposed. In fact, the room reminded Frieza of a planet of barbarians he'd conquered some few decades ago- a harsh, ugly people with bull-like features that had hardly made it out of their planet's version of the Iron Age when Frieza took notice of it. He'd gone to invade them personally, curious to see what life might have been like on a world without most of the creature comforts he had come to take for granted. In short, he hadn't been impressed. Despite being part of the "Iron Age", most of the structures were composed of wood or rock, and few actually owned anything made from the material, and of those that did, they owned armor or swords, and not even the kind he'd been taught about in schooling. Where were the hulking paladins? Where were the chariots pulled by great beasts? Why was everything covered in mud? It had been completely and utterly disappointing.
But one thing did stand out to him. During the conquest, Frieza had decided on a whim to launch an assault upon the greatest fortress on the planet by himself. It was said to be ruled by the most powerful warlord on the backwater. A man who had conquered all of the insignificant part of the world he'd called home and forged an empire that had supposedly spanned across the continent. Frieza saw quite a bit of himself in the man, and had been intrigued to meet him... He wasn't anything special, and easily died when Frieza grew bored of him, but the man himself wasn't what stood out in Frieza's mind. It was how he lived. He had a throne room much like this one, with a large hearth in the center, a throne made from gold sat in the back, and a gigantic banquet table sat close by the hearth, draped over with enough food to feed an army and surrounded with enough chairs to seat one. Their seats of power were nearly identical!
It was strange to the Arcosian. He couldn't imagine sharing a table with so many others, nor could he possibly begin to accept the idea of lowering himself to the standard of eating where he held court. Nor could he envision enjoying himself surrounded by the heads of so many dead beasts and yet... there were some who preferred ruling that way. Perhaps it was barbarism- Turles was a filthy Saiyan monkey after all. But perhaps there was something to that kind of rule. Perhaps there was something Frieza didn't get, that by eating with their subordinates, Turles and that King had achieved something that Frieza lacked... Maybe that was the reason everyone in here was so willing to throw their lives away in battle against him. Maybe the was why the warlord's minions did the same. It was an interesting thought experiment, to say the least.
But as the Arcosian prepared to leave the room and move along, he stopped and examined the space above the throne. He'd seen the flag when he'd first walked in, but hadn't immediately placed the symbol emblazoned at the front. It was the Saiyan Royal Crest, the official flag of the Saiyan Empire. Frieza stared at it for a moment, feeling a rush of memories come back to him. None were good, but some were more pleasant than others. Seeing that flag again, he was reminded of the day he'd first ascended to the rank of Emperor. He'd made a big show of it then, and since the Saiyans were far and away the biggest population under his direct command, he'd decided to pay them a visit first. He still remembered the look on King Vegeta's face when his adorable little snipers failed to take him out. Then, Frieza's mind turned away from that, shooting forward a bit to the death of King Vegeta at his hands. He smiled softly. It had been quite the show back then. But his smile was short-lived as his mind sped ahead once more, to the other Saiyan he faced that day. The lone Saiyan to oppose him at the moment of Planet Vegeta's destruction. His face, his eyes, his wretched monkey hair. Once, they'd all been forgotten by the Arcosian. He'd tossed them out into the wind and watched them be buried beneath the sands of time. But now they came rushing back, carried by the very wind that had once taken them, surrounded in the sand he'd used to bury them. He knew those features better than any other, for that man had been the father of Son Goku.
Worse, he was the spitting image of his son. Just the memory of their faces sent chills rolling up Frieza's spine. Frieza couldn't get the images out of his mind. He shut his eyes and shook his head, trying to shake them loose, but the Saiyans had lodged themselves firmly in the folds of his psyche, and no matter how hard he tried to be rid of them, they clung. His eyes opened and turned back to the Saiyan flag, flashes of memory flickering through his head as he did. Phantom pains caused his skin to bristle, and the scars from his battle with Son Goku had suddenly begun to tingle as though they were on the verge of tearing back open. Frieza tried to breathe, but his breaths came in rapid, short bursts, like he was hyperventilating. The Saiyan flag burned itself into his memory just the same as the pair of monkeys in his head. Why couldn't he be rid of them? They floated at the forefront of his vision. One existed as he was the moment before his death while the other stood only a few seconds away from transforming into that horrible state. Why couldn't he be rid of them!?
Suddenly his heart had become quite loud in his ears. Suddenly, the dull, rapid thudding of his beating chest was all the man could hear around him. The entire planet had gone silent, and all there was to tell Frieza that he was even still here was the constant thud of his pounding heart. It grew louder with every thump, faster with every passing second until he could no longer hear the silence of the world around him, his hearing completely overwhelmed. He grabbed the side of his head and shut his eyes tightly as he shook from side to side to be rid of the thought of the barbarians, but it was no use and worse- his heart was only beating louder. Before, it had been an endless contant drone that overpowered his senses, but now it was as though his heart had been replaced by a drum who's drummer was none other than the apes who stood before him.
Adrenaline surged through his veins as his hands began to shake, his palms had gone slick with sweat that he couldn't tell if it had come from them or his head. Now his vision began to betray him as well. Frieza opened his eyes again and saw the the world around him grow dark. Blackness spreading from the edges of the throne room and consuming everything around him in pitch black. Everything other than that wretched flag. Then slowly, the darkness began to recede around him, trailing away until Frieza found himself standing on blue grass and overlooking a swirling green ocean that was muddy with bright white stars. Above him, he could see the vastness of space. Frieza couldn't breathe. He knew this place. This was a world that had haunted him only in his darkest nightmares, a world that had terrified him to no end, a world that had refused to let him find peace even in his rest.
It was a mottled, mishappen fusion of the only world to have ever made the tyrant bleed, and the homeworld of the Saiyan race. Beneath him, he looked again to see the ocean was not all there was, and the stars which dotted its swelling waves were not alone. Beneath the water, staring towards him like a single swollen eye, Planet Vegeta looked up on the eve of its destruction. Frieza looked away, knowing how this dream went and wishing it wouldn't be so, but still, the image of the Saiyans wouldn't leave him be. Frieza's heart at last began to fade into the background. But that came as no repose. Roaring wind and falling rain took its place as a hurricane rolled in around them. The eve of Planet Namek's demise had settled in, and Frieza's face twitched. He knew how this dream would end, and he knew he had to escape it before it came, before they made their moves. He searched the world around him desperately, hunting for any sign at all that this was an illusion and eventually, eventually his eyes locked onto his saving grace. The symbol above his head. The flag of the Saiyans, the culprit responsible for bringing him here would be his liberator. He took a step towards it, and then stopped. His hand felt numb.
His other hand shot up to grip at the metal limb that had suddenly felt as though it no longer existed. His hand touched the metal, but his brain received no signal from the other arm. Frieza blinked uncomprehendingly. How could the arm be gone if he could see it? And yet, at the same time, it was as though his arm both did and did not exist. His eyes were quick to snap up. He saw them, the memory of those horrid faces had become distorted as though someone had gone over the photos in his brain and burned them until the images were nearly unrecognizable. They were still themselves but every feature, every horrible part of them that Frieza loathed most had suddenly become exaggerated or worse. Their eyes were slightly too dark, their stances too violent. Saiyan demons made from gold stood before him. The light of their very skin seared his eyes and flesh and demanded that he not look upon them directly, but Frieza had no choice but to stare, and so his eyes burned with tears. He couldn't move. His body had gone completely unresponsive. Just as it had in his nightmares. Just as it always had before the end.
Golden hair and blue eyes shone at him from the darkness of space, only illuminated by the occasional blast of lightning that split the air open and turned night to day. Rain pelted around him, but Frieza felt only the vast coldness of space against his skin. The feelings were incongruent with one another, and Frieza knew why. His memories of Planets Namek and Vegeta's destructions had become merged. It was a scene he'd only ever felt in his nightmares, and yet here he was, fully awake. Frieza wanted to move, to run, but felt his legs were simultaneously trapped within his mobile throne and floating above the ground under his own power. It wasn't merely his location that had been merged. His body had turned into some mishappen amalgam of both his True and Final Reduction Forms. Pinkish flesh stared at him with unnatural color between two hard ivory shells that dug through his body, and a horn had grown through his skull with enough pain that it forced the tyrant to wince. He could imagine his face. A blurred mixture of ivory armor and fleshy, wrinkled skin. The monkey demons stood, faces mangled and unrecognizable, yet so horribly familiar. One was scarred, and his head dripped with blood that rained down his face. The other was Son Goku, but indecipherably, incomprehensively wrong. His eyes were different, harder, more violent, wider than they should be and yet narrowed so roughly that they seemed ready to pounce. Worse was their color. They had turned that unholy blue.
It was just the same as the nightmares he'd faced over a year ago. Nightmares which had vanished so long ago had suddenly become as real as his own flesh. Like someone had plucked them from his subconscious and now had thrown them back into his stream of conscious purely to torment him even in his waking moments. But they had been edited. A year ago, only Son Goku appeared, never his father. Frieza's legs suddenly felt unsteady beneath him as though they weren't even there. The nauseating images of the blonde apes vanished only to reveal a pair of purple disks behind them. Disks which Frieza had thrown, disks which he had lost complete control over. They struck him at the waist and suddenly Frieza felt his knees buckle, his legs, metal or flesh or bio-armor, fell to his side and Frieza was thrown along with them. For the first time since this nightmare began, he felt himself move on his own power. It touched something cold and hard.
The moment his hand landed on the hard, frigid throne, Frieza was pulled free from the nightmare. His legs became solid beneath him again, but he didn't trust them to hold his weight. His arm had returned and even the throne room around him was back to how it had been. Sweat gathered itself in every pore on his face and dripped down his chin and brow like gushing rivers. His eyes stung and he blinked, then gasped out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. The first gasp opened the floodgates and suddenly Frieza's lungs had begun to scream, and though he knew he didn't need air, he panted and gulped for it anyway. His chest heaved with every exaggerated breath, but his eyes slowly shut and he felt his head lean against the cool gold of the throne's armrest. It lasted only a moment before he resisted the urge to rest and held his face up, no matter how bad things got, he refused to allow himself to be lowered to the same standard as a mere monkey's arm.
"Why..?" Frieza gasped, speaking to no one but himself, "Why... is this happening... now?" His nightmares had never been so vivid before and they had certainly never struck while he was awake. What had brought them back? Frieza tilted his head up towards the ceiling, and as he did he caught sight of the Saiyan Flag hung up on the wall again. His vision blurred, but this time it went red. The wretched thing, that must have been the start of it, up until now he'd been just fine, even with the knowledge that he was going up against another simian. But the moment he saw that flag and the second he thought back to the end of their putrid race, all of the horrid dreams he'd thought he'd moved passed suddenly came wretching back up the drain to torment him again? No, there was only one culprit. Frieza's eyes narrowed and a spark of energy shot from them and landed dead in the center of the flag. Within seconds it had set alight.
Frieza slowly stood back up as he watched the flames consume the black sigil of the Saiyan Empire, then watched the glowing yellow embers of what was left of the flag drift to the ground and burn away, "Dust. That's all they are, all they will be." Frieza hissed to himself between panting gasps as he looked at his fist, "I swear... I won't suffer a single Saiyan to live!" But as he observed his hand, he couldn't fully push the thought out of his mind. The thought that he would be face-to-face with a Saiyan once again, and the worry that when that time came, his nightmares would come crawling back out of the shadows of his head. His hand shook, and Frieza clenched it tighter in desperate bid to maintain control.
Garkos' blade sunk into the silver metal of Cacao's chest. The sword dug only a quarter in before the Cyborg was able to react. Cacao brought both hands up and swung them down onto Gar's arm with enough force to tear the sword out the way it came in. But by doing this, it left the Gar a small opening, which he used to yank back in the air and shoot his hand forward. A wave of light erupted from his palm and sent the Cyborg flying back by a few feet. The Zaltian shot forward with his sword at his hips, and once he got close enough, he swung the blade upwards once more-
Cacao's whole body twisted, just barely managing to keep himself from being sliced apart for a second time. As he twisted, Cacao quickly turned in the air and planted his palm against Gar's side, a second later, a vibrant pink orb of energy pressed against his ribs. Gar hissed and absorbed the energy blade back into his body before using its power to reinforce his chest in the milliseconds before the orb of light exploded and sent the man flying backwards, obscured by a thick cloud of smoke. As smoke billowed around him, Garkos shut his eyes and tried not to think about the oncoming migraine in the back of his skull. They weren't getting anywhere like this. Not only were their power levels dead even, but neither of them could land a decisive blow against the other. He knew Cacao was thinking the same, so maybe it was time to try something new...
Garkos focused and felt the energy shaping in his palm, elongating and dulling near the center only to sharpen at the end. Cacao watched as Garkos emerged from the smoke only a bit worse for wear, and now wielding a new weapon- his Energy Lance. Without giving his enemy even a moment to recognize the weapon, Garkos lunged towards Cacao while pulling his arm back, and just before he would have reached the Cyborg, he flung the weapon forward with all his might. But before it struck, a series of panels popped open on Cacao's back, shoulders and elbows and quickly ignited, causing the Android to shoot high into the air, allowing him to not only avoid the attack completely... but giving him a significant height advantage. Garkos frowned, summoning the Lance back to his hand as he did. He knew exactly what Cacao was planning.
As soon as the Cyborg reaches a suitable height, the rockets embedded in his body suddenly rotate around and send him racing towards Garkos directly. The General recognized this move- it was the same one that the creature had used to end Ko's life during their battle. It was a cheap trick, something that Garkos was certain that Turles himself would disapprove of, but one that had proven effective time and again. He watched the Cyborg descend towards him, gaining in speed and momentum as he did. But he knew he wouldn't hit him, not immediately. At the very last second, Cacao would halt himself completely, but his body would be able to store all of his momentum up. Anyone who tried to counterattack would be left completely open when the rockets re-ignited themselves and shot the man forward like a bullet. Ko hadn't been a poor fighter, nor had he been outclassed against this man, his enemy had simply played dirty. Garkos wasn't going to let himself fall for the same attack. Ko might have died to it, but his death wasn't going to go in vain. Garkos visibly tensed up as Cacao grew closer, baiting the Cyborg.
As the entity grew close enough, Garkos' arm twitched as though he was intending to fling out, and Cacao immediately came to a screeching halt, leaving himself just out of range of Garkos' Energy Lance. Then, the Cyborg's red eyes widened as Garkos suddenly shot forward and threw the Lance with all his might. Cacao used the momentum he had built up to quickly rotate his body around until he was "standing", but that wasn't going to save his body. The Lance tore through Cacao's metal chassis and emerged on the other side, leaving a hole the size of a fist through the alien warrior. But his movement had been enough to save his life, as the attack penetrated through a non-vital region of his body. Not what Garkos had wanted, but it would be more than enough to give him the advantage Cacao had wanted. A hellish red aura surrounded Cacao as he powered up, glaring into Garkos' eyes. "Your strength is impressive, I see now how you were able to end Daiz's life with it." Garkos had to admit, being a Cyborg had its benefits. The alien before him was so machine, he didn't even feel pain, and the attack Garkos had left him with was no worse for him than an inconvenience, "You are not innocent when it comes to taking the lives of comrades, Garkos." Garkos repressed a smirk.
"Ah, so what Daiz said was true." Cacao and Daiz had been good friends before the attack on Cohbrin Six, and Daiz often bragged that the pair were scheduled to be promoted to ship commanders of their own vessel after the victory, "We've both lost friends, I suppose that makes us even." Garkos' own blue aura erupted around his entire body as Cacao's formed around his. In an instant, the pair vanished.
Yota grinned as she looked out the cockpit window, propping her hands up on her chin as she did to give herself a better view of the sky outside. Though the girl barely managed to catch even glimpses of the godlike displays of power going on above her head, she still watched for the few short bursts of movement she could follow. The rare times when red and blue light would clash in the air, or when Garkos' blade landed against the silver-man's arm. When they paused to launch huge waves of gorgeous colors at one another, or when Garkos changed weapons. Those few special moments when she caught even the slightest hint of the real battle were everything to her.
She'd never seen anything like it before at home. Frieza hardly ever had to use his power for much of anything other than flying or sometimes killing predators that wandered too close to their home. In fact, the only time she had seen anything that even came close to this kind of raw power... Her grandfather had been killed. Yota immediately pushed aside the memories of that. She didn't want to focus on them right now, or ever if she could help it. And watching these two battle it out was definitely helping her do that. She knew that she was supposed to be hiding, that if she got caught then Frieza or Garkos would be pretty upset with her afterwards but... She couldn't help herself. Not only was it incredibly boring in the ship, but just feeling the raw power being used around her was too much- Yota absolutely had to see it. Even if she couldn't really.
For a moment, the girl wondered what it would be like if she had those powers. If instead of sitting and watching the others battle, she was out there fighting with them. But as soon as she did, she frowned a bit. Frieza had told her that their kind of power was something unique to them, something someone was born with, it couldn't be learned, so she shouldn't get her hopes up about having it one day. Sure, Merce apparently had it too, but he had always been strong, he just had to learn how to use it. Yota wasn't strong like they were, she was a girl. And girls weren't meant to do the things the boys in her village were... Her frown deepened at that. She might have been a girl, but she wasn't going to let that stop her from doing the same as the boys could. What was going to stop her was the fact that she didn't have the same kind of powers that Frieza or Merce or Garkos did.
Her frown stayed for a moment, then slowly faded back into a tiny, amazed smile. Maybe she couldn't do it herself, but she could definitely watch them do it. It was fun to watch, and what was better was the more she did it, the easier it started to get for her. She wasn't sure why but... the clashes started to happen more often, and she even caught tiny "in-betweens" where she could see the pair exchanging hits between themselves. Yota squinted her eyes up at them a bit more, letting herself get lost in the fight, letting her mind fill in the blanks between what she could see, letting her mind feel their hits, not only watch them. And she grinned again. It really was the most amazing thing in the world.
She was so wrapped up in it that she hardly even noticed the door cracking open.
Frieza paused in front of one of the many trophy cases he was surrounded by, then frowned and spared a glance towards one of the walls. A tremor rumbled through the floor, "Hm..." The Arcosian thought for a moment, then rolled his eyes, "Garkos probably found something actually worth fighting out there." He shrugged it off, "Oh I'll deal with it in a moment, I think we've well and truly established that the monkey isn't here." Frieza couldn't help the venom in his throat. After what happened to him earlier, the Emperor had decided to spend a bit longer in the castle, trying to find something that could distract him from the fears plaguing the back of his mind. Turles was a mere Saiyan, a worthless ape that would be no more difficult to scrub off Frieza's shoe than a bit of grime. There was no reason for his body to react that negatively to his presence... Which was precisely why he was here. His mind knew that to be factual, but his body wouldn't listen to him, it needed time to be convinced. And so, seeking that time, Frieza had come here, to what he assumed was a trophy room.
It was a long and, in his opinion, poorly lit hallway that was lined with trophy cases on either side. Bulbous light fixtures hung from the ceiling, lighting the place in a dim, fireplace orange that Frieza found tacky. It was cheap tech playing at being rustic and old fashioned, and it wasn't even doing a good job at it, the place would have been better served by actual torches. It was hideous, and it gave little credit to the trophies, which Frieza found to be a shame, most of them were quite nice actually. The lights made things bright enough to see, but it tinted everything a dingy yellowish orange. There was one saving grace however, the floor and ceiling were quite nice. They were both covered in a gorgeous wine-red fabric that actually gave the feeling of some actual regality. He might have been a monkey, but Frieza had to give the Saiyan credit for that part, it actually looked like something he'd have in his own trophy room.
Then of course, there were the trophies themselves. Most of them were of little note to the Arcosian, being either animal skeletons or with their clothes so devastated by damage that Frieza couldn't begin to guess at the kind of person who had once worn the outfits. But there were a few outfits he could somewhat place, a few that were of note. On entering the room, he was greeted with the sight of a hideous mustard-yellow, purple and bright orange ensemble that reminded him of the outfits he'd seen the Namekians wearing. Especially the scarf, which almost looked like the one that the one shirtless warrior he'd battled fought in. Then of course, a bit to the right of that was a machine of some kind. Frieza barely recognized its model, but he knew that it was definitely some kind of assassin droid. He'd employed a few of those a few times to deal with less-than satisfactory planetary governors, and had even gone up against one or two when some poor fool decided to make an attempt on his life, but this one was unique. Its head resembled one of Burter's species, but its face was scrunched and almost arthropod-like. Its body was an odd reddish color, and it seemed to be armed to the teeth. Not only that, but even deactivated, Frieza got the sense that it still wanted to kill him. It was terrifying, he loved it.
A bit ahead of that were two other display cases that Frieza found of interest. The first contained Saiyan armor of some kind, and a loincloth that was definitely not standard issue for any of his family's Forces- much too... hairy. He vaguely recognized the Saiyan armor as belonging to a female, however, which was... curious. Why would a Saiyan murder one of their only chances at true reproduction? No matter, what really caught Frieza's attention was the skull that sat on the mannequins left arm, it was some kind of beast's skull, one Frieza thought he might recognize for a moment. Didn't they lose contact with a Saiyan girl on some far off planet a few weeks before Planet Vegeta was destroyed? A planet populated primarily by bull-esque creatures? In any case, it was certainly an interesting outfit for a Saiyan survivor to wear, he wondered what had happened to lead her to being here. But before he could focus much on that, his attention snapped to the display case sitting across from the Saiyan girl's. That one contained something else of interest. He didn't recognize it at first, for a moment he assumed it was some kind of bird creature, but then he took a closer look. In the opposing display case was plumage, a set of beautiful rainbow feathers all neatly aligned together, draped over a black cloak. He recognized the cloak- slightly. It had belonged to some young plucky rebel that had gone dark just before his visit to Namek. She had been a real pain in his side too, always hunting for Vegeta for some reason... and she had been accompanied by an Arlian...
And that had been when he felt the tremor pass through the building. He took one more look at the gathered trophies around him, then laughed a hollow chuckle, "Well, I'm not sure how many of you liked me but I'll make a promise to avenge the lot of you." He mocked, unable to stem the flow of sarcasm that rose through his voice as he provided the group of fallen warriors a mock bow, "After all, I simply won't allow myself to end up another mere trophy for that simian bastard to gawk at." He glanced towards the female Saiyan armor, "Some offense." Frieza dropped his position and extended his hand towards the wall, carefully aiming his attack between the trophy cases. He didn't quite know if he respected any of these fools, but if the Saiyan could be bothered to treat them with the dignity of honoring them as his trophies, Frieza could at least provide them the dignity of leaving their monuments up. A hole blasted through the side of the building and Frieza shot out through it moments later as an ivory blur.
He followed the sounds of battle for a moment, slowing to a halt as he found Garkos locked in deadly combat with some kind of silver creature. Frieza narrowed his eyes at it as it gripped Garkos' energy spear, trying to either shove him down with it or yank it out of his hands- it was hard to tell from this angle- and slowly cocked his head slightly. It wasn't a silver creature, it was partially flesh and blood much like himself. It was a cyborg. Well, that was certainly interesting, maybe he could borrow his cybernetics when all of this is said and done, it wasn't like he'd be needing it any longer.
Frieza watched Garkos struggle against the thing for only a moment longer before letting out a yawn. It was taking much too long and, if Turles had not shown himself by now then he was either waiting on his last minion to die as Frieza might or he wasn't here. And in either case, Frieza didn't feel like waiting, "Oh fine, I'll do it myself." Frieza feigned exasperation. In an instant, the Arcosian shot down towards the Silver Cyborg while pulling his hand back. Before the creature could even perceive that he was there, the tyrant's hand shot forward through its chest and tore something that seemed vital out of it. Frieza frowned, was that a heart or an engine? He squeezed it once, it spasmed in his hand.
A heart it was.
A black chuckle spilled out of the Frost Demon's lips as he tore his hand back through the Cyborg, widening the hole he'd put through him initially enough that he could see Garkos' mortified expression at the other end, "Oh, I'm sorry, were you in the middle of something? I was getting quite bored watching." Frieza absently examined the heart in his hand as he spoke. It was strangely organic for the amount of wiring going on inside this particular alien. He expected there to be more metal bits stapled onto the organ like some clockwork abomination and yet... it was completely normal. Though one thing was strange, when he squeezed it, black blood like oil spilled from the capillaries. It was slick and visceral, but not quite as sticky as he expected. Giving it one more vaguely interested look as its host body began to fall from the air, Frieza discarded the heart behind him with an amused shrug before snapping his hand out and grabbing the body before it could fall completely, "I think I'll be taking this as well if you don't mind." Frieza added with a darkly amused smirk as he saw Garkos' eyes follow the heart all the way down, "You see, I'm in the market for superior cybernetics and, well, he doesn't seem to need them anymore, wouldn't you say?" Frieza was having too much fun watching the "hero's" face get sicklier with every word. He really could have gone on forever but... "Anyway!" Throwing the body over his shoulder like it was today's catch, Frieza smirked with a bit less sadism, "I think we should tell Yota its safe to leave now, don't you?"
"...So yes, if I had to guess, Turles is on the planet we're orbitting, and worse, he's already planted the Tree of..." Garkos trailed off as the men closed in on the ship. They stopped just outside of the vessel, standing before the graveyard that Frieza had made when they landed, and both stared towards the ship as they did. Amidst the bodies of the fallen soldiers, the starship stood like a black a headstone. Standing amongst the dead, the men felt themselves suddenly out of place as an eerie silence began to creep in where their words had once been. The pair waited a long moment, their eyes scanning the dark interior for any sign of movement, their ears straining to hear any sound that might have pointed to life, but the longer they searched, the more apparent it became. The bodies weren't the only things that were dead. Garkos frowned as he focused his senses, searching for anything at all that would point him away from the slow, terrifying realization that was starting to come over him. The monument stood, shrouded in its silence, its body blocking out the setting sun, casting long shadows against the dirt and stone beneath their feet, obscuring the white armor of the soldiers which surrounded them. Without turning to Frieza, he spoke, "She's not in there, is she?"
"If she is..." Frieza began, not taking his eyes off the ship's interior, "She's being uncharacteristically quiet." Frieza's voice held a level of steely calm that was all too common for the Emperor. He adjusted the weight of Cacao's body on his shoulder, then decided to toss him to lay amongst his fellow men. His body landed on top of another man's with a metallic clatter. His eyes snapped back up to the fiberglass windshield as soon as the bodies bounced against each other, had he seen something? A flicker of white against the black seats, something tall moving amongst the shadows? Garkos saw it too, and his attention slowly turned to Frieza. It took the Arcosian a moment, but he returned the look. The pair shared held their gaze for a moment too long; for the first time in their lives, both men had an agreement. There was a nod, and then they bolted for the ship. Being faster and completely undamaged by battle, Frieza reached the door first, but Garkos was right on his heels. The tyrant yanked the door open. Not giving the vessel any time to pressurize, Frieza stepped through the opened hatch and found himself standing face-to-face with a man wearing a white and purple uniform with his arm wrapped tightly around Yota's neck, his other hand pressed up against her skull, lightly illuminated by a white aura.
"Don't move!" The soldier barked, first looking at Frieza, then at the Zaltian behind him as he too ran in, "Nobody moves or else I'll kill the girl!" Yota had gone stock still in his grip. The usually audacious girl, one who was so fearless that she had been the only one to bother Frieza at his most irritable had transformed into a statue. She stared forward, not even daring to breathe within the man's grip. Her eyes were wide, and through stringy pieces of blonde hair that had begun to cling to her face, Frieza could make out that she had gone a fearful shade of white. Seeing Frieza, her lip quivered just a little as her golden irises latched onto him out of some desperate hope. Frieza didn't look at her for more than a moment, only seeing the faintest glimpse at the eyes which had suddenly grown so full of hope. Instead, he kept himself calm. In fact, he almost seemed bored as his own eyes turned up to the man gripping onto her as if his life depended on it. He unfocused his vision just a bit, trying to squeeze out all of the red and fill his eyes with something closer to boredom... boredom and something else, something that Frieza knew would be a bit more puzzling to the man; confusion. After all, why would the man assume that this child meant anything to him? That was the impression Frieza wanted to give him, at least.
Oh heat rose in his chest alright. It came as volcanic ash and rose up from the pit of his stomach like bile that to threatened to spew out from his throat at the slightest provocation. It flooded through his torso and neck and face as a kind of impassible heat that Frieza himself had never once felt for anyone or anything other than himself. It turned his blood to magma and sent it roaring through his ears so loudly that it began to blot out everything around him. But he kept that buried.
Like ancient tribals, he sacrificed everything that he had to prevent the volcano from boiling over, to keep that heat contained within his heart and hold his molten blood back just enough to keep its visage from showing on his face. It wasn't a skill Frieza was accustomed to using. All throughout his life, he had been able to bully others as much as he wished, he'd never had to bargain with anyone, not seriously. And so, he could afford to wear any emotion- dissatisfaction, disapproval, anger- on his sleeve, but this was different. He'd used hostages before, many times. He knew that the only way they worked was if the other person had some attachment to the hostage. So even as the bile rose in his throat, even as his heart had suddenly been replaced by a burning star seconds away from sweeping its entire system into cosmic oblivion, he kept himself completely, and utterly, composed.
He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, and slowly, he felt his hearing return to him. He gently cocked his head, a voice eventually coming to him in background, one he knew. Garkos, shouting the usual heroic lines that, in another circumstance, would have made Frieza want to puke, but here it only served to make his job more difficult. Every word from that man made Frieza want to lash out at him, how could he be so blind?! Didn't he see? Didn't he know that he was giving this mere henchman everything he was looking for?! But Frieza didn't move. He couldn't give away the game, not from his end at least. If Garkos wanted to act in the same predictable manner as every other hero Frieza had mercilessly slaughtered, then that was his decision. Frieza had to keep focused, it was the only way to save Yota. He let out another breath through his nose as the kidnapper was concentrated on Garkos and tuned the pair out.
The hardest part was controlling his eyes. The rest of his body was easy to keep under control. It was a simple task to keep his arms held down, and only marginally more difficult to keep his fists from balling. It was even easier to control his facial muscles, he'd lived several lifetimes as a businessman and politician, and though his face wanted desperately to show how displeased he was, it obeyed, knowing that its time would come. The second hardest to maintain control over was probably his breathing, but after an initial, shuddering breath, Frieza slowed his lungs down, holding his breath for as long as needed until they eventually went still, a bonus since his kind didn't really need to breathe as much as others.
But his eyes? Those were treacherous. Some called them the windows to the soul, and at the moment, Frieza had to agree. He had to put twice or even three times as much focus into them as he did any other part of his body. He blinked once, and in that single blink he swallowed back an ocean of malice. It drained away through the same irises it had come through, and when it was gone, all that remained were the pindrops of red that made up his eye. Then he spared a glance at the kidnapper and caught a small, infinitesimal look at Yota's pleading, petrified stare, and all at once his eyes filled again with rising crimson waves that widened his gaze in such burning rage that set his teeth on edge and nearly brought him to expose his true emotion. He blinked again, and this time turned his gaze far away from the little girl, far enough that her eyes may not set his ablaze once more.
He didn't know what god-forsaken reason he had to feel this way, but he knew it was a threat to his entire plan and so, he couldn't look at her. He had to keep his eyes locked one-hundred-percent onto the man before him or else everything else that Frieza had done would collapse. He couldn't allow that, he couldn't let the kidnapper think for even a second that he had any real leverage. Not for this to work. And so he stared away from her as though she were a specter at the edge of his vision. No more or less interesting than a hair he had yet to brush aside. His face relaxed once again, and not a moment too soon.
Eventually, Frieza's dull look caught the man's attention, and he quit arguing with Garkos for a just long enough to shout towards Frieza, "H-Hey! I-I've got this girl here and I-I know you two showed up with her so if you want her to live, you'd better be a good captive! I'm taking you and her, and him to Lord Turles and I don't want any funny business or else!" Frieza's heart skipped a beat. Bright white light pulled itself free from the man's palm and pressed itself against his captive's head. The Emperor's mouth felt dry. The heat of the emergent power scalded into the side of the girl's head and for the first time since the pair arrived, she moved and breathed a single sob of pain as tears formed in her eyes. Fire boiled through him, and suddenly, Frieza felt his jaw clenching beneath his lips, his teeth being pressed so closely together that the Arcosian felt that they might break. His own eyes had betrayed him once again as he saw the girl cry out, and for a moment they were consumed in nothing but wrathful magma as his molten blood surged to the surface-
And then he relaxed. At once, it felt as though he was watching from the other end of a screen. Someone had turned a switch in his mind and suddenly he found his entire body flooded with icy calm. He turned to the man, his mouth hanging open in preparation to speak, "Oh, I'm sorry." Frieza blinked at him as coldly as a butcher that had been told the name of the cow he'd cut into, "Was that meant to threaten me?" Before him, the kidnapper's hands shook just a bit, an acknowledgement. Then, Frieza's lips turned upwards into a devil's smirk and a harsh, hollow laugh spilled from them with all the coldness of frost, "Did you forget who I am?" Frieza asked, his voice somewhere between an incredulous laugh and a genuine question as he both grinned and quirked an eyebrow, as though questioning the man's sanity, "I am Lord Frieza." He continued, taking a half-step forward. The man took one back. His hand jerked towards the girl as he did, causing her to cry out in further pain. Frieza didn't let the sight of his handprint burning into her flesh stop him. But before he could say more, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see that Garkos had grabbed him.
Frieza resisted the urge to send him through the wall. Instead, he turned, and the moment he did, he let loose a fraction of the white-hot wrath that had been boiling his organs. His eyes set alight with nothing but undiluted rage as he glared into Garkos, all of the volcanic heat that he'd been building up suddenly released in one go as Frieza shoved the man back with telekinesis hard enough to throw his hand off. And yet it was only a fraction of his anger. The full brunt of his fury could be easily reserved for the man before him. Garkos', eyes went wide with an emotion Frieza had never seen on the courageous Zaltian, and from his new position against the wall, the man backed down. Frieza turned back to the kidnapper, and in the short seconds that spanned his revolution a snowstorm passed over his face. By the time he met the soldier's eyes again, he was as calm as he'd been to start, "You think I have any care for that wretched girl?" Frieza felt his lips twist in a grin, "Please, spare me the indignation."
"I'm-I'm not screwing around..! I will kill her!" The man responded, and Frieza peered into his visor, seeing the desperation on his face. The Frost Demon knew he couldn't push his luck, not too much. If the man felt threatened enough, he would do it, which was counterproductive to all of this. Still, Frieza knew he had to sell this part, if he didn't, if the man realized that he was safe so long as Frieza believed he couldn't kill him before he killed Yota, then this was all for nothing.
So he smirked, "Oh by all means, go right ahead." Frieza shrugged, "What will that cost me? A bit of bitching from her mother? Letting her scream and yell at me until I got tired? A small annoyance really, and not even one that would last very long." Frieza waved his hand through the air with a sadistic chuckle, "The moment I find it irritating enough I'll just kill her too. Really, at that point I'd be doing her a service!" Frieza's eyes lit up in a manner that almost seemed unhinged, "Lost her husband, lost her father, lost her daughter all in the space of a year? Why, the real monstrous thing to do would be letting her live!"
Frieza took a moment to observe the man. He grinned as he did, he couldn't help it. The raw catharsis that came down on the blood boiling in his veins as he drank in the man's fear was simply too delicious to pass up. In front of him, the man's eyes had gone completely wide and though it was hard to tell beneath the visor, Frieza knew that his face was certainly a much paler shade than before, and his mouth hung open with an awful realization. He was coming to the conclusion that he had no real bargaining chip, but Frieza needed to go further, "Though..." Frieza dropped his grin, putting his hand to his chin in mock thought, "The small amount of whining I'd get would be quite the trifle, especially since it's entirely avoidable..." Frieza's eyes locked onto his, and without the Arcosian doing anything more, the soldier took another step back, "So I suppose the first person I'll kill after you do her in will be... you." Frieza pointed, and the man tightened his grip on Yota, bracing himself for the incoming Death Beam. Frieza's eyes couldn't help themselves, and they snapped down to look at Yota for brief second, checking to ensure that she wasn't suffocating, knowing he couldn't bear to see whatever look her eyes had now. Once he was satisfied, Frieza looked up to the soldier again, his eyes locking onto the man's. There was a subtle change, he'd seen Frieza take a moment to look at Yota. That was fine, he could salvage it easily enough. Dark purple energy spiked through Frieza's outstretched finger, pointing it dead at the man's chest, "Honestly though..." If he fired it, it would pass right through Yota's skull, "Maybe I'll just get rid of the both of you!"
Frieza felt Garkos moving behind him, he knew that heroic sod wouldn't get it, it was inevitable that he'd try to "stop him". The ruse was good, too good. If it had been any other situation, Frieza might have taken the chance to commend himself. The energy in his finger vanished, and at the same time, Frieza ducked to avoid the blade in Garkos' hand, "I won't let you!" The Zaltian spat as the Arcosian whirled around to look at him, "You can't seriously be considering trading Yota's life away for nothing!" Frieza's expression was no longer wrathful, he'd tried to tell the man using his rage earlier, but that had clearly not worked. Instead giving him a mildly bemused look, Frieza extended his hand towards the Zaltian, who lunged towards him at the same time... Only to go stock still in the air. Then, with telekinesis, he flung the man out the door and threw him so far that he cleared the treeline. It wouldn't take him very long to return.
Frieza knew he had to be quick and wrap this up before that happened, and so he turned back to look at the man, his anger at last starting to simmer, but it was still just warm enough to give Frieza a reason to keep going, "With that said... I'll offer you a choice." The kidnapper looked on the verge of wetting himself as the Arcosian spoke, and sick joy flooded Frieza's chest as he saw the absolute terror in the alien's eyes, soothing the flames of his anger even further. Another cruel smile crept across his face, "You can either kill the girl, piss me off, and I'll kill you slowly..." Frieza lifted one hand and looked at it, "Or..." Frieza lifted the other hand, "You can drop the brat, and I'll give you a five second head start. Or, since you people are so obsessed with throwing your lives away, one free shot." Frieza lifted his hand to and tapped his jaw twice, "But, I mean honestly, what did you think was going to happen? Taking hostages only works when your enemy gives a damn about them!" Frieza paused, looking a bit mortified, "Have I ever given that impression?"
The man's eyes frantically glanced between the door, the girl and Frieza, him weighing his options with every passing moment. It wasn't much of a choice and they both knew that, being tortured to death was just the same as running, but Frieza had been careful, giving the man a chance to run was a calculated move. It was an opportunity to escape, and when you corner an animal, they'll take every opportunity they come across. Frieza waited, that was all he could do for the moment. He wasn't sure if he'd be fast enough to catch the man off-guard and take him out before he killed Yota, and he wasn't willing to risk it. The moment stretched on for what seemed like forever, long enough that Frieza finally allowed himself to turn his own eyes down towards Yota's.
At first, her expression was no different than he had expected, she was crying, frozen, and staring up at him, but then the Arcosian took a slightly closer look. Terror kept her locked in place, but her face didn't read as fear. The girl looked at Frieza like he had punched her. The eyes that had just a moment ago been filled with nothing but fear were now... Frieza didn't know how to describe it, she looked like an injured animal. Like a child whose guardian had thrown her away. A new feeling doused the magma in his stomach, and suddenly his body felt heavy with something Frieza had only ever felt one time before. Her eyes never left his, and his couldn't leave hers, no matter how much they wanted to. Shame hardened like obsidian rock throughout his body, and for the briefest moment, the Emperor regretted what he'd done. In the next, she fell to the ground.
Startled, it took Frieza a half-second to respond, long enough for the soldier to bolt for the door and take off running through the empty castle. Frieza, stood in stunned silence, following the man with his eyes as his brain tentatively reminded him that there was something important he was supposed to do after the man let Yota go. It wasn't until the man had tripped over the bodies of his fallen comrades that Frieza recalled what he was supposed to do. Frieza shook his head to clear it and spared one last glance at Yota, who had curled up in a fetal position in the corner. He wanted to say something, but before he did, he pulled back. He had saved her, there was no reason to feel this way... and yet, he did.
Before the man could get too far, Frieza dashed towards him, moving so quickly that to any outside observer he became a blur of white skin and copper metal. When at last he became fully visible again, his face tightened with rage as he tried to reignite the fire in his chest. The anger came easily enough, gushing passed the rocky layer of cooled rock that Yota's grim look had forced over it and flowing through his veins like a long overdue eruption. But it wasn't for the same reason as before. Now the fury had turned against not only the girl, but himself. Yota for looking at him like he had done something wrong by choosing to save her life, and towards himself for letting himself believe that he had done something wrong. The soldier was lucky when Frieza reached him. He stopped in front of the man and though he wanted him to suffer, the anger towards him was weaker than it had been. Before the kidnapper could even begin to beg, Frieza slashed his hand through the air and cut through something warm and soft.
The alien dropped, choking on his own blood as he shot his hands up to hold his throat. Frieza had been careful, he'd cut his jugular vein and poked a small hole in his throat in one motion, he wanted the man to suffer a slow death. Bleeding to death, choking on his own blood felt like a suitable punishment, but that wasn't the only reason Frieza had decided on that as his execution. As much as Frieza wished he could deny it, there was some part of him that wanted the man to suffer the way Yota had suffered. As she suffocated in his grasp, he would suffocate by his own blood. Now, watching the man, Frieza wanted to press his hand up against his head, to let him feel the pain Yota had felt when he'd placed that energy against her head. He refused to give in to that desire. He hadn't been lying, he hadn't. The girl meant nothing to him, he'd only saved her to avoid listening to her mother complain and that was final. There was no reason to go further, the man had slighted him, but it was in a way that ultimately meant nothing. Even if she had died... even if she had died, Frieza would simply have carried on.
But telling himself that didn't stop Frieza from watching. It didn't stop him from feeling cruel satisfaction drown his sorrows as he watched blood drain into the soldier's throat and spew from his lips as he dropped to the ground, gurgling some broken plea to be saved. Frieza sat there and watched, watched as he died the same way Yota could have died. Slowly, painfully, wishing for mercy. He watched with cold amusement, but as the anger faded for the last time, the Emperor felt himself alone with nothing other than the hard pill of shame sitting in his stomach.
Once the body stopped twitching, Frieza flew back to the ship, where he was met by a familiar face. Garkos hadn't been flung far, Frieza had only wanted to keep him away for long enough and was already back inside the vessel when Frieza approached, "What the hell is wrong with you?! He could have killed her!" The Zaltian was crouched down next to Yota, who had only now allowed herself to start sobbing freely, her head pressed against the man's prisoner jumpsuit, her arms wrapped tightly around his chest.
Frieza shot a glare at Garkos as he responded, "Don't speak to me like that again." He hissed, "My plan was perfect. If I had given him any reason to assume that I cared about her, we'd never have gotten her back!" Frieza crossed his arms as now Yota turned to look up at him. She had the same look in her eyes, and this time Frieza hardened his gaze in response, "I believe I am owed a thank you for saving your life!" His voice lowered as he barked at her.
Yota stared up at him, her eyebrows furrowing as her lips began to quiver. Then, slowly, her face broke open again and like a burst dam, her tears started to flow as she shook her head, "You said you didn't care." Her voice was breathy, high pitched and strained from being choked, but her words were sharp enough to cut through the Arcosian better than any assassin's blade ever could, "You said... you told him to kill me..." The girl continued, but it was as if she couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth, every syllable dripped with pain, "You said you'd kill me..."
Frieza froze for a moment, then let out a breathy half-laugh and shook his head as he responded, "I-" He scoffed, some part of him finding it completely deranged that he had to defend himself, while the other part understood. Frieza wasn't sure which side he hated more, "I wasn't serious, Yota. I had to do that or else he would have-" The girl's head was already shaking, and before either man knew it, she was standing, her eyes ablaze with anger and pain unlike anything Frieza had ever seen out of the girl. She looked like a kicked puppy that had grown into an adult. An adult that had long since learned not to trust others. Her eyes, golden and shining with tears, were narrowed with all the venom in the world and her mouth, forced downwards by uncontrolled muscles, spat that venom towards him with a kind of malice that might have made the Emperor proud if it hadn't been targetted towards himself.
"You said you were going to kill mom." As soon as she said them, the anger in her face was drowned by a new wave of sorrow and the girl bolted for the door. Frieza reached to grab her on impulse, but quickly reared back before he could- what was he doing? He didn't care, it didn't matter! She was a-a child! A worthless desert rat that he'd been forced to spend time with by irresponsible parents! She was nothing! Nothing but a brat! She didn't deserve his sympathy, and who was he to give sympathy? He was Lord Frieza! He didn't empathize with lower lifeforms! He didn't reach out to stop them when they wanted to run from him! And he certainly didn't try to comfort little girls!
"Go after her!" Frieza snapped at Garkos, who suddenly snapped his attention onto the rising steam wafting off of Frieza as he felt himself starting to lose control of his emotions. The man didn't move. Frieza turned and glared at him from the corner of his animalistic eyes, which widened further as he seethed with rage and hatred. He was the Lord of the Universe, the Emperor of all that existed, the Shogun of Sorrow, he did not comfort brats, and he certainly did not repeat himself, "Didn't you hear me you worthless reptile, scum!? I said GO!" Frieza lashed his hand through the air, glaring daggers into Garkos' eyes, "Go and take her back to her people! Take her, and them, FAR away from me, and never return!"
Garkos shock wore off quickly, and he slowly looked down to glare at Frieza. For a moment, the pair shared looks, then slowly, Garkos turned his attention away in disgust, "For a moment, I actually started to think that there was something you cared about." He said quietly, shutting his eyes as he did, then opened them to look out towards the castle, at the little girl who hadn't gone far before she'd collapsed into a heap on the ground, "Those people, even the ones who don't like you... they think more highly of you than I ever could have imagined." He looked back at Frieza, who hadn't changed his expression, and his face hardened, disgust written all over it, "And that little girl there-" His finger jutted towards Yota, "-thinks the world of you. She chases you around like a lost dog, treats you like you're some kind of mythical hero! Doesn't that change ANYTHING about how you treat her?"
Frieza turned his face up, crossing his arms as he did, his expression entirely neutral. Garkos' had words pierced his skin but stopped well before reaching the Frost Demon's heart. He wouldn't let himself fall for that trap again, he was not their friend, he was not their ally, he wasn't their hero. He was an Emperor, and he would not allow himself to feel for lesser beings ever again.
"But you don't care." Garkos concluded, turning his own nose up at him, "Its just like I always knew, you didn't change even a little. And how could you? You can't care, it goes against your nature." Garkos took a breath through his nose, "I'll take her back to her people. Finish Turles off yourself, I'm done with you." He turned away, and was almost out of the ship when he turned back to look at Frieza one more time, "And next time we face each other, it will be as enemies."
Frieza preferred it that way. He watched Garkos step off the ship, walk to Yota, and crouch beside her, and then he turned away and shut the door. The console was foreign to him, but he had watched Garkos engage the flight sequence three days ago. He could figure it out, using that Rebel fighter as a pilot was a poor idea anyway. He'd make sure to let some of Turles' men live when he found the man's real hiding place, they'd take him to Cooler instead. After a moment of fiddling with the controls, Frieza eventually found the activation switch. He set his coordinates to land on the planet the moon was orbiting and sat down as the ship lit up and began to take off.
Garkos knelt next to Yota and set his hand on her back, letting her cry. He didn't understand the full reason behind why she and her whole village treated Frieza like he was anything more than a monster, and he suspected he never would, but he knew the emotions of a child were volatile. She needed time, and the man was willing to give her as long as she needed. He stood and looked around, surveying the area, looking for the body that Frieza had dropped earlier while giving the girl a bit of space. Even if it wouldn't benefit Frieza anymore, Choso could probably do something with it. Upon seeing the body, he made a mental note of where it was so he could grab it before they left.
At some point, he heard the ship's engines roar to life and turned to look as Frieza sped away from them. The vessel shook and jolted as it rose through the air- the sign of an unskilled pilot. Garkos would be amazed if the tyrant managed to land. It was only when Frieza had left them that the little girl stopped sobbing. She turned and watched the ship fade into the skies and vanish behind the clouds, and then she was silent. Garkos sighed, gently rubbing her shoulder, "It's alright now." He said in his softest voice, "You're safe, and I'm going to take you back home to your family."
Garkos had fully understood why Frieza had acted the way he did, he wasn't a fool. In fact, and to his chagrin, the tactical part of his mind actually felt like commending Frieza for thinking rationally about the situation they were in. If things had gone his way, they'd have been in shackles and Yota would have been made into another slave for Turles' army. But that didn't change the fact that Frieza had done something hurtful to the girl. As much as Garkos couldn't comprehend it, Frieza meant something to the people of that world, and to Yota most of all. He'd watched the girl chase the man around aboard their ship during their journey, and he'd seen the way they interacted with one another. To her, Frieza wasn't a demon, he was something closer to an uncle, 'Perhaps this for the best then. With this, maybe she's learned...'
As if answering his thoughts, Yota slowly shook her head. Tears still streaked down her cheeks, but the girl had enough strength to resist the urge to sob. Instead, she managed to choke out a sentence, "I always knew that he was bad and mean and..." Her face scrunched up again as she started to weep, but she shook her head again and kept talking, or tried to, through her tears, "But he never... he never did that to me, or to mom or to Merce or grandpa..." Her face broke into a tight-lipped grimace as she fought to keep herself composed through the thought, "He helped us so much, he kept me safe, he told me about space... I thought... he cared..."
The girl looked up at him like she had been abandoned by a family member. Garkos swallowed. How could these people have had such a different experience with Frieza? Garkos thought back to the one time he'd ever seen Frieza in person before now. Many years ago, when he was young and brash, he had joined an insurgency group with the single minded goal of ending Frieza's reign. For months, the prepared an assassination attempt that they were certain to work. They would catch Frieza by surprise during a business meeting and detonate a bomb placed directly beneath his feet. It should have been foolproof, but when the day came, something went wrong. One of their men must have been a traitor, because in the morning leading up to the meeting, Frieza himself descended on their compound alongside his bodyguards at the time. Garkos had survived, but only barely. The others hadn't been so lucky. Occasionally, on his darkest nights, he could still see the flesh of the men being burned away, and he could still hear the raucous laughter of the Frost Demon as he tortured his friends to death.
But of course, that left Garkos with a chilling question. If he was capable of convincing so many that he was more than a heartless tyrant... then was it possible that he was telling the truth?
Author's Note: I can't lie to you guys, I'm not feeling the best right now. As I type this to you all, I'm feeling so... incapable as an author. I'm sure to you, this story is amazing, but for me... Maybe its insecurities, but I just worry that my writing isn't nearly as good as I need it to be right now. But then again, maybe I've just been on this chapter for too long. I mean wow, 15-16,000 words, that's an insane amount for one chapter. I hope you enjoyed, even if I'm not feeling the greatest right now.
For now though, I do need to react to some reviews, so lets move along, shall we?
(Taken from Ao3)
Knowall: HeyY! Nice to see that death matters!
plus, super excited to the Turles fight. I mean, considering he's a saiyan and Freeza's dread that is going to be interesting to see how it will play out.
Garkos and Yota have been delightful characters to read! I love how they interact with Freeza and how you write them!
THanks a ton!
Me: Haha yeah, unlike regular Dragon Ball, death is going to be sticking for the most part in this story, very rarely are characters who die going to get brought back, I can say that for certain. As for the upcoming Turles battle, well I'm sure this chapter foreshadowed pretty well that its going to be a pretty hard fight for Frieza, so make sure to come back next month, that's coming up next.
(Taken from FFN)
Chaosconetic: I've really enjoyed this story a lot so far. Its got a nice space opera vibe and you're repurposing movie villains is a nice touch. Wonder if Frieza will munch on some fruit in the coming chapters or if his pride will demand he not take the easy road to increasing his power. As much as I dislike DBS's power scaling, I do like the way Frieza's character in that is kind of evolving and maturing in mentality, seemingly learning from past blunders and even learning to put in hard work as well as, somewhat ironically, adopting the Saiyan's love of fighting, not that he'd ever admit similarities with monkeys.
I dislike Golden Frieza's design, but I absolutally love Black Frieza's design, cause while both are an uncrative recolor, Black Frieza just has this sense of pure malace and peril that revived the old sense of dread he instilled back on Namek. If you don't give Frieza Cooler's 5th form, his black form isn't a bad alternative, perhaps with some extra trimmings tossed in for uniqueness.
Thinking about it you could recycle some of DBS's factions (With suitable power level changes) Like the Heaters are an interesting factions. Another character that'd be interesting to add as a possible ally to Frieza could be that big red dude in that crappy RoF movie, Shisami I think he was called; another fic I read turned that guy into a schollar who realized I liked busting heads. There's even GT factions that could be retooled. DBS has a lot of cool ideas, but if there's one thing I've noticed about the authors, show writers and whoever else, its that power scaling doesn't even enter their minds, narrative always takes priority. Not to say DBZ didn't have massive flaws in power scaling, it sure did, especially in the Buu arc, DBS just took the worst aspects of power creep and cranked them up from 10 to 20.
Ah, I see Fall Of Lord Frieza was an inspiration. That fic basically turned Frieza into my favorite character. I remember all those years back following it as it was being released. Wonder if you'll have Frieza end up befriending an OC saiyan like in that story, lol; its hard to imagine given his history with Saiyans.
Anyways, really enjoying this and looking forward to more. And yes, as fun as the atmosphere on that sand planet was, I too am glad we're off there. Much longer and Frieza might start quoting Anakin Skywalker on the deep philosophical and existential horrors of sand.
Me: Now that you mention it, I suppose this story has taken a vibe similar to a space opera. That wasn't my intention when I started out, but its a good reading, I like it. As for repurposing movie villains, yeah, that's something I really wanted to do with this story. A lot of modern DB what-ifs and fics refuse to touch on the old Z movie villains, which kind of sucks because they fill out the Dragon World in a lot of interesting ways and help it feel more alive outside of what we see in the main series.
I won't touch on whether or not Frieza will partake in any fruit, but I will actually talk a bit about the Golden vs Black form here. I actually like the Golden Form more than the Black one. Sure it has a nice moment, but its design feels even lazier than the Golden state in my opinion. Yeah, they're both just recolors, but Gold at least has a decent character reason for its look. Frieza wanting to mock the Saiyans is a good idea. I won't be using it for this story because I have a better idea, but DBS' explanation is pretty cool. We'll see what transformations Frieza gets, however. I want to blend all facets of lore together in this fic, not only from Z but from Super and even GT, so we'll see.
I actually have plans to use some of DBS' factions in this story, thanks for reminding me about the Heeters though, I'd forgotten about them, and they'd actually fit right in with the world I'm putting together for this one, so I might toss them in. I do plan to use Canon Frieza Force characters in this story though, such as Berry Blue, Leemo, Cheelai, Tagoma and Sorbet, but they won't be showing up for a very long time, so don't count on seeing them for a while. Regarding what you said about power scaling, it's true that the current writers don't really seem focused on making this stuff make sense, which is really unfortunate, and also something I'm hoping to address in this story.
We'lllll see if Frieza makes any new Saiyan friends, but as of his most recent mental breakdown, it doesn't seem very likely lmao. Fall of Lord Frieza might be my inspiration, but I don't want to wholesale rip it off, y'know?
I'm glad you're liking it, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I may not have faith in my skills right now, but as long as I'm impressing someone else, that doesn't matter. I really hope you enjoyed your time here.
And with that all said, as always
Until Next Time True Readers