Zarbon's mind raced as he looked at the message he had received. Part of him desperately wished that it was a voice message, so he could just play that for Lord Frieza. 'Or even better have the coward be here and tell Lord Frieza himself.'

But no… the scout had decided to send a written message, knowing that it would mean that Zarbon had to give the information to their lord in person. And he had remained out in the field, refusing to return to the flagship. Oh, the scout was cunning and didn't say he was refusing… he came up with some silly claims that he was only sending the message because he was searching for pockets of Namekian resistance… but Zarbon knew the truth. The bastard was hiding.

'He didn't even give me his name,' Zarbon thought darkly as he left his office, making sure to lock up before beginning the walk down the hall. 'I can't even push the blame onto him because I don't know who it is.' It was all above board; it was common for scouts to leave messages that weren't signed, especially if they had been instructed to infiltrate a planet.

Many of their enemies thought that the Frieza Force was just filled with big dumb brutes who stomped their way about planets, firing off recklessly until they had destroyed everything and anything they could find. That they didn't think or plan and instead just saw all the universe as something to smash. But that wasn't the case at all. Yes, there were buyers who requested a cleansed planet, with everything left in ruin so they could set about strip mining it without having to deal with the buildings and such. Or who didn't want any reminder of who had come before so that the previous inhabitants were lost to history.

But there were just as many who wanted as much as possible left intact. Sometimes it was a logistics issue… after all, why bother building roads and schools and buildings and power lines and waste pipes when they already existed! No different than purchasing a fully furnished house… well, except that in those cases the previous owner WANTED to leave. Other times it was because what was there was meaningful to the people that wanted to claim the planet. A few years earlier Frieza had been approached by a proud race, the Armurs. They dwelled on several different planets that were great distances from each other and lost contact with one of their sibling worlds. It had been found that a parasitic alien race had arrived there, fed on the inhabitants, and then moved in. Their President, Greeve, wished to reclaim the planet but not damage any of the buildings. Not have any of the structures that had stood for hundreds of years be destroyed. They could do it themselves but understood that sometimes it was best to send an expert and thus hired Frieza, even offering bonuses for every building that was undamaged.

Rather than send the likes of the Ginyus, the Saiyans, or even Zarbon or Dodoria, Frieza had sent in his scouts and infiltrators. It had taken 18 months but in the end they had been able to kill so much of the population that the invasive aliens had fled, thinking the planet was cursed… and ended up RIGHT in the firing line of the Frieza Force that had been lying in wait. That had been a good job… they had made a ton of money and Frieza had even signed a contract with the Armurs for them to provide materials to create new body armor for the Frieza Force. Greeve had bowed to Frieza and thanked him for his work and Frieza had commented after they'd left that he wished all his buyers were so reasonable.

Zarbon shook his head. 'You are getting distracted,' he scolded himself. 'You need to be focused on other things… especially if you are going to be meeting with Lord Frieza and giving him this news.' He twisted the message in his head a thousand different ways, trying to find some way to portray it as a good thing. That was the trick when it came to Lord Frieza: one had to find a way to figure out the pro of a situation. 'It was so much easier under King Cold.'

Zarbon missed his former employer greatly. King Cold had been far more even tempered than Frieza… the Prince could suddenly fly into rages and then, just as quickly chuckle and laugh at a situation. And he hated bad news, no matter how minor it was. If a planet was taken and every member of the team had returned without a scratch but had lost one of their scouters Frieza would rage at the cost of replacing it and demand they be punished, forcing Zarbon and Dodoria to often get creative in how they 'punished' the Frieza Force Soldiers; if they did as Frieza commanded every time there would be no soldiers left to fight. King Cold though was far more willing to give his men leeway… but also there to support them. Zarbon could ask him his opinion on a mission and get back plenty of advice. Frieza would declare 'That is why I am paying you' and command that Zarbon stop bothering him. And King Cold didn't mind bad news… he understood that sometimes failures happened and so long as you already had a plan to correct things then he was willing to give a second chance. Only a second chance… but that was all that was needed.

'He would have cured me by now,' Zarbon thought darkly. 'If he were still around he would have made sure that my curse was lifted.'

It was his greatest shame and the reason why Zarbon had sought out King Cold. His people, the Pomades, were known for their savageness. Their planet was avoided at all costs because to land there was a death sentence unless one had the power and weaponry to fight back. They lived in mud huts and fought constantly amongst themselves; they had never been able to advance beyond stone tools. And they were crude disgusting beings. They loved to eat and would expel wind without thought during meals and would talk with their mouths full. They defecated anywhere and everywhere and took pleasure in the stink they could produce. They loved all things slimy and rotten, seeing beauty in that, or at least as much beauty as their kind could find in anything. They didn't fight in wars because that would require the Pomades to actually have some sense of structure, which they did not. Instead they merely had battles that could start up at any moment. It was said that one should become concerned if a Pomade meal hadn't seen at least three different fights break out.

Zarbon had always known he was different but truly hadn't understood until Dr. Flask had found him and begun working with him. The mad genius, for only someone half crazed would ever consider landing on Poma to study the creatures that lived there, had thought that it was only a matter of education that kept the Pomades from rising up and becoming something more. He had found Zarbon when he was just a little pollywog, and taken him away from his family… something Zarbon was grateful for as he was quite sure his mother or siblings would have eaten him had the urge struck them. Dr. Flask had then set about working to teach Zarbon how to be more than his people. How to speak. How to think. To move with grace and dignity. Understanding himself and others and how they interacted. All of this until, at long last, Zarbon had become something more.

But… the monster was still inside of him, clawing to get out.

It was why he had come to work with King Cold. He had said that he had many scientists working for him and he was interested in Zarbon. Wanted to see just what he could do. And… if given the time… perhaps his scientists could cure him of his transformation and allow him to be fully who he wished. To not need to rely upon the beast within in order to defeat foes.

'Had he remained in charge I would have been cured,' Zarbon thought as he neared Frieza's chamber. 'But then he retired and F Ridge Station was destroyed and I was trapped. Stuck barely holding onto my grace and working for Lord Frieza…'

He forced such thoughts from his head, not wanting to even let them bubble up in his brain. He would not survive long if Lord Frieza sensed a bit of rebellion within him.

Still, that left him with a problem: he could only focus on the bad news he had to share with Lord Frieza and he had no idea how he was going to be able to spin it to keep himself safe for the Prince's rage.

"Enter," Frieza said and Zarbon swallowed before walking into the room.

"Lord Frieza," Zarbon said, kneeling.

"Have you received word from Dodoria yet?" Frieza asked. "It should not be taking him this look to track down those fools that dared to interfere with my plans. He better have a good excuse or I swear I will end his miserable life."

Because he was at such a loss for words Zarbon, to his horror, found himself speaking before he could stop himself. "It appears you are too late for that, my Lord."

Frieza went very still before slowly, ever so slowly, turning his head to the side. Just enough to just catch Zarbon from the corner of his eye. "And… what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Knowing there was no way out of it now Zarbon said in as firm of a voice as he could manage, "A scout contacted us a few minutes ago. While they can't be positive… they have found what they believe to be Dodoria's remains."

Frieza turned away from him. "Did they?"

"Yes, my Lord." Zarbon swallowed. "Clearly Dodoria allowed himself to be ambushed."

"Zarbon, I know that we are having issues with our scouters-" And oh how Frieza had been angry when he had learned that. Ranted and raved about how, when they needed the scouters the most, they were suddenly having technical glitches. Swore that he would slaughter the entire tech department if not for the fact that he needed them alive to fix the damn things. "-but I do know that we scanned the planet before we arrived and did not detect a single energy reading that could match up to most of our soldiers, let alone Dodoria. So… would you like to come up with some other way he died?"

"Uh… well… perhaps he caused the damage to himself! These Namekians are weak, as you said, and that could cause him to become cocky and believe that he could perform some new move. One that ended up destroying him."

"What, like he flew into his own energy blast?" Frieza asked condescendingly. "I can see him being that stupid but I don't think that is the answer at all."

"You… you don't, Lord Frieza?"

The Prince turned and began to chuckle, which terrified Zarbon more than his yells and screams. "Of course… the answer is quite obvious and I am disappointed you haven't realized it. Clearly you were too focused on obtaining the Dragon Balls and not on who else might be seeking them out."

"I… I don't understand-"

"Of course you don't, you empty headed fool. You are more concerned with your bath balms and hair products than actually looking around you and seeing the world for what it is. Or what it holds. No… it wasn't the Namekians who killed Dodoria."

Frieza smirked.

"Vegeta has returned."

"Ve….Vegeta?"

"Yes," Frieza said. "And he has grown MUCH stronger. I will be curious to learn what caused such growth in him and in such a quick time." He waved his hand flippantly. Dismissively. As if that very act could send Vegeta flying off the planet, screaming and raving about how no one did that to "The Prince of All Saiyans". "I'm surprised you didn't realize it, Zarbon. I would have thought you'd have checked the scans of the atmosphere… the energy reading clearly matched what we have on Vegeta only at a greater level."

"But… he managed to defeat Dodoria?"

"Yes, that is a curious thing, isn't it? Clearly whatever happened that caused his injuries also allowed him to grow stronger. I do remember my father mentioning something about that… how Saiyans were the superior warriors because so long as they had a scrap of life in them they would come back stronger. Foolishness, I say, because everyone knows those monkeys are only superior in getting themselves killed!" He laughed at that and Zarbon smiled at the old joke even though he'd never found it funny. The destruction of the Saiyans had been an utter waste and something only Frieza would find delightful.

Zarbon had seen the quarterly reports and in the last 20 or so years their profit projects had failed to achieve the same trajectory that King Cold had managed; something that annoyed Frieza to no end. He had wanted power and wanted it quickly and blamed everyone around him for it not happening. Never mind that he had killed a vast amount of their best planet scourers. Thankfully he had been smart enough to claim that it was an asteroid that he done the deed and not himself; it had taken Zarbon and Dodoria, along with Captain Ginyu and a few trusted others, to talk him out of claiming the destruction as his own.

Frieza had thought it would send a message to all and make them quake in their boots or rally them to him. Everyone wanted to fight for the winner, after all. But they had argued that all it would do is make all of his business partners nervous. After all, did you really want to sign a contract with someone that had proven that they would be willing to destroy you purely because it would amuse them?

'He has no true understanding of business,' Zarbon though bitterly, longing for the days when he'd worked with King Cold. He had understood how to do things… he had been out in the field cleansing planets and building up the empire from nothing and thus realized the problems that could arise or the issues that could become stumbling blocks. 'Prince Frieza… this is the first time he's actually went to a planet with the rest of us. He has no idea what to expect. He's utterly green but we can't even treat him like a new hire!' It was frustrating to no end and he still didn't understand why King Cold allowed it. Yes, Frieza was far more feared than his father… but he was also hurting their ability to make a profit, costing them allies, and pushing dangerously close to getting the Galactic Police to actually attempt to deal with them. And Zarbon feared the day Lord Frieza decided to break his father's rules and go after Lord Beerus or dare to claim a planet that was the Omni-King's play thing…

"I do wonder why he is doing this. Killing Dodoria… well, that is something that he's wanted and not that great of a loss. Dodoria had become bothersome of late and it will be easy enough to replace him. I am sure you are personally pleased, Zarbon… in fact, had I not gotten the recording of Vegeta's energy signature and knew that you were on the ship the entire time I would have assumed YOU did the deed!" He chuckled at that again.

Zarbon didn't answer. No… no he wouldn't have done the deed. He loathed Dodoria because he reminded Zarbon far too much of his bestial self but he also saw the warrior's worth. He was the hammer to Zarbon's knife and they worked well together. It would be a massive burden to find a replacement.

'Perhaps one of the Ginyus? Burter might work… he is strong and fast so that would do well to cover for what we lost. No Recoome… he is hammer as well but too immature. He would never handle working for Lord Frieza. I suppose I could also look within the ranks…'

It would be an utter nightmare to find a replacement for Dodoria. Especially one that would appeal to Lord Frieza AND King Cold, for whoever it was would need to take on Dodoria's roles in the matter of keeping an eye on Frieza. King Cold would not be happy that his eyes and ears had been rendered half blind and half deaf.

'And then there is the compensation package I will need to deal with,' Zarbon thought with a bitter sigh. 'That will hit our profits very hard.'

Everyone thought that the Frieza Force was made up of slaves. Which was utterly foolish if one actually took a moment to ponder it. Slaves made for horrible warriors, for they didn't fight for you but because of you. A desperate slave would see a fight as a chance to either gain their freedom or to die and be released. And slaves couldn't be given any freedom and that didn't work for their business. Soldiers needed to go out and take care of things without constantly being watched. It was why Lord Frieza didn't deal with the slave trade at all. Too messy. Too complicated.

No… every Frieza Solider was a contracted employee. The contracts tended to be for life, so there was no risk of them taking their secrets to any of the other galactic powers, and were iron clad with an army of lawyers (quite literally… they had their own planet to serve as their office) to ensure that no one dared attempt to break them. Frieza had never really looked into that and thus didn't understand everything that was in said contracts. When he got mad and demanded soldiers hurry up and take a planet they got overtime pay. When he sent them on long flights instead of looking to see who else might be available that was closer those year long treks cost the Empire travel pay. The bonuses that were paid out for successful missions.

Captain Ginyu and his forces gambled with candy because they had no need for money. Each would be able to, when they hit the retirement age, buy a planet of their very own. Zarbon himself was eying up a nice solar system that would become his when he finally hit the point where he was removed from active duty.

And then there was the life insurance.

King Cold and Prince Cooler NEVER killed their own men. Ever. Would be horrified by doing so. Because every time a soldier died their life insurance would kick in. Many of the Frieza Force members signed their contracts because they knew that their families would be cared for if they died… and cared for well. Some of the greatest fighters they had joined because the pay and the insurance helped their planets out. It was how they got some of the best doctors and scientists to join them.

And should they die because of negligence on the part of the Frieza Force? Like Lord Frieza killing his own men because he was throwing a fit? The amount skyrocketed.

'Thankfully Lord Frieza wasn't the one that killed Dodoria,' Zarbon thought. 'And if it was Vegeta then it will come out of his own funds. But we'll need proof of that…' Coming to a decision Zarbon stepped forward. "I will go and personally see to the matter, my lord. I will retrieve Dodoria's body and determine if Vegeta was the culprit."

"Yes, look into Vegeta," Frieza said with a sniff, turning once more back to the window. "We need to see if this was merely him letting his temper get the better of him or if he has decided to go rogue. If it is the former and he has at least a good reason I suppose I could let him back into the fold. Not to replace Dodoria though… he probably thinks that will be his reward for this. But he failed to check in with us and that must be punished. If he has gone rogue… I want him found and I want him alive. I will personally deal with him." Frieza paused. "But as for Dodoria's corpse let it rot. I will not waste time on that failure. Do not forget we are here for the Dragon Balls, Zarbon, and with these technical issues with the scouters that task becomes all the harder."

Zarbon bowed, not daring to correct Lord Frieza and inform him that Dodoria HAD to be brought back. Yet another thing in his contract that Frieza didn't know.

'King Cold would have known,' he thought darkly. 'He wouldn't be treating this so mildly.' He moved quickly through the halls, teeth grit in frustration. 'Lord Frieza… he continues to bring us down. And if he manages to get hold of the Dragon Balls… what will stop him from truly turning us all into his slaves?'

No.

No, something had to be done. The course of the Empire corrected.

It was time King Cold returned.

And the only way to do that… was for Zarbon to claim the Dragon Balls for the rightful ruler.

~MC~MC~MC~

"I honestly don't see why you are still upset," Treiv said with a laugh, clicking on one of the capsules and rubbing his hands together when, with a poof, it formed into a table with a three course meal on it, all warm and steaming. Roasted chicken, a side of potatoes drenched in gravy, fluffy rolls, and a sweet smelling pie for dessert. "Dr. Oodle stated that the planet is already healing from what Turles did to it and in a season we'll be able to grow crops again. And we have enough firewood to last us years now… and it burns real well!"

He gestured towards one of the bonfires that had been made by Dober, which was crackling merrily. The wood of the Tree of Might had some very interesting properties. When burned it gave off a scent that seemed to give everyone a bit more vigor, to the point that they actually had to make their camps far away from the blazes because no one would be able to sleep if around them. And food cooked over the flames lasted far longer, with one of the Pleists needing only a mouthful in order to work an entire day. Many of them were interested in trying their hands at using the wood to build new homes, wondering what new magic they might discover with the timbers.

The only one in a foul mood still, at least to Treiv, was Sennen.

"It shouldn't have even come to this," she muttered darkly.

"They gave us plenty of food," Radoor grumped. "And supplies."

"And they helped us get rid of Turles in the first place," Dober said.

Sennen shook her head. "That mage though…"

"Oh lay off of him!" Treiv declared with a laugh. "His friends looked ready to neuter him for that prank! I think he'll be punished enough."

"Prank?" Sennen snapped. "Prank!? Do you remember-"

"We do remember," Radoor said coolly. "We remember his promises and then how he stole the fruit and ran. But we have moved on… you should too."

"You… you want me to move on from this betrayal?" Sennen demanded. "What he did-"

Triev groaned dramatically. "She's going to ruin supper if she keeps this up!" Still he tore off a piece of chicken and began to hungrily gnaw on it. "Come on… we're never going to see him again! We are set… let us get the best revenge by leading good lives."

Sennen's muzzle twitched at that. "I just wish I could see him one more time-"

And that's when the solid plane of white appeared before them, roughly the size of a doorway.

The Pleists all went stiff and still at the sudden appearance of the large white rectangle, many of them going for their guns. While they had never been an idle people, having had plenty of wars and fights amongst themselves, after Turles they would never drop their guard again. They would be ready for whatever threat came upon them.

The first to step out had Sennen tensing before she relaxing, chastising herself for being worried. Son Goku was not his uncle, the monster Turles, even if they did resemble each other greatly. But only in the basic shape and Sennen had gotten annoyed at plenty of traders who arrived and confused her for someone else purely because of the shade of her coat (which she honestly didn't get... all of them were the same shade of gray in her eyes). 'Use your damn nose!' she had snapped at more than one before apologizing for being so angry... but still holding it against the other party.

So how was it fair for her to react in such a way to Son Goku?

The Saiyan wasn't his uncle. One only had to look at his face, which was open and kind. She could tell at once he was a good man, noble and helpful, willing to give his all for any that needed his aid. Hadn't he, after all, fought his own blood to protect them? Actions had always spoken louder than words for them all and Son Goku's actions were like a howl across an empty field.

Then there was his scent. Turles had smelled... Wrong. Old blood and rotted wood and stinky fruit. The kind that had been left out and developed a bad mold but you only realized it when you turned it around and saw half of it covered in fluff. The same was true of his men. They had all smelled horrible and it was why, the moment they had seen them, the Pleists had opened fire on them.

Son Goku though? He smelled like a forest glen. Earthy but not dirty. No... Like a hundred different plants and old tree bark and leaves that were no where close to falling. He smelled of fresh running water and the sky on a day where the sun was fair and the clouds held a thousand dreams. Of a fire roasting fresh meat that invited all to gather round.

He was as he had been when he left though Sennen detected something else as she sniffed. 'A storm. Lightning. But it hasn't actually struck the ground yet and the rain hasn't fallen. Its in the air. The current. But it isn't something to fear.' It reminded her of when she'd been a pup and gotten excited for thunderstorms because yes they were big and scary but so were parents and like parents storms could be amazing as well.

"Hey! We're back here!" Son Goku declared happily. "We were wondering about that!"

"What are you doing here?" Dober asked. "I thought you and your friends were going to that planet... Namek?"

"Yeah. Still need to get there. You guys have ships, right? I'd really appreciate it if we could borrow one, as otherwise we have to wait for Bulma and the others to come back here and they might be busy." He rubbed the back of his head. "We were going to leave but then this portal opened up and Kayos was told that he had to help another world-"

"Kayos? Help another world?" Sennen asked with a scoff. "Like he'd-"

Kayos stepped through the portal.

He was dressed differently. A long coat and some goggles and gloves. And the smile he'd worn when he had talked with them... and later betrayed them... wasn't there. Instead his features were stone cold. Showing nothing.

But he couldn't hide his scent.

Sennen breathed in and was startled.

Before he had been of contrasts. The dusk and the dawn. The sun setting and the world falling asleep after a long day meeting the rise of the sun and dew on the grass and the smell of the flowers beginning to open. But now it was... so much stronger.

He was the coldest midnight in the middle of a winter, when the moon was full and the stars were out and everything was blanketed in quiet snow. Where a single sniff hurt ones lungs but was also so delightful that one couldn't help but suck in more and more. It was the pines standing guard and the crispness of a world where all went to sleep.

But he was also the hottest day of summer, when the sun was so high in the sky that there were no shadows. The baked earth drying and cracking, crumbling with every step. He was the sands forever shifting and moving and threatening to consume all that wandered upon them. He was the harshness and the brightness of it all.

A calmness that hid the death and danger.

Sennen aimed her gun right at him, even as she knew it was a feeble gesture. She could tell at once, though she didn't understand his magics, that he was far beyond them now.

"You dare show your face after what you did to us?" she demanded. "How you doomed our planet?"

"…yes," Avo Kayos declared and then he raised his hand and white energy burst from his palm, causing Sennen and the rest of the Pleists all began to whine and whimper at the sight of the raging magic.

But he didn't attack them.

Avo instead suddenly slammed his hand into the ground and the magic pulsed into the soil… and around him there was a tremble, like when a rock was thrown into a small pond. With him as the epicenter the ground around him roiled for a moment before the thin layer of grass they had been standing on, which had just begun to poke its way through the soil that had been ravaged by the Tree of Might, suddenly exploded into a wild thicket, hearty and hail. It blasted past them, making many of Sennen's companions yelp in shock as the sensation of grass suddenly tickling their feet. They looked about wildly as young saplings they had been caring for with all the tenderness they could decided to make years pass in seconds, rising into the sky and lifting their branches so that soon they found themselves in a shady forest glen. Animals that they had only seen hints of, which had retreated to regain their strength, let out songs and cries so that the newly grown forest became an orchestra.

Sennen herself slowly lowered her gun, startled at the changes she was feeling. She honestly hadn't realized how tired she was feeling until that moment but it was like she dined on her first truly filling meal in ages. She felt sated and full and it made her want to rub her belly and smile at the sensation. But she wasn't lethargic… no. She was full of energy, buzzed and ready to climb any mountain or tackle any great river that might be set before her. She looked at the others and saw that they were feeling much the same as her. The life force that the Tree of Might had stolen from them, that had been slowly returning, was now back in full.

"…why?" she whispered as she stared at Avo Kayos in shock, the man slowly standing up and brushing off his pants. "Why did you do this after… after what you did before?"

"Because someone held me to the mark," he replied. "I am Avo Kayos. And I save people. And if there anyone out there, anyone that has a problem with that?" He threw back his head and roared to the heavens, "TO HELL WITH THEM!"