Zarbon stood slightly to the side and behind Frieza, reading a report from the sleek, metallic tablet in his hand.
They were in the main office of the mothership, a circular chamber with nearly featureless walls, save for a large panoramic window dominating one side of the room. There was an air of cold efficiency to the space, as it was furnished minimally and for function rather than decoration.
To minimize chances of detection by the Cold Empire, Zarbon had elected to use a vessel seldom used by Frieza, hence the stark, almost Spartan appearance of the office.
"In summary, my lord, all scouters are now confirmed to be fully operational. Based on our interrogations, we can conclude the disappearance of the Namekians' energy is due to some form of interference on their part, likely of a magical nature." Zarbon concluded succinctly, checking the completed report off his list.
As he awaited his Lord's response, Zarbon reflected on the strange nature of this interference. Magic was an unpredictable force, one that defied the conventional understanding of energy, power, and physics. It was a wildcard, capable of complicating even the most meticulously laid plans and confounding the most advanced technologies available.
But that doesn't mean they were helpless against magic. Far from it.
Across the room, facing the panoramic window, Frieza stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out into the wilderness of Namek. The window reflected his cold, calculating eyes while his tail swayed slowly behind him. Finally, Frieza broke the heavy silence, speaking in a low voice.
"Initiate a scorched earth policy," he commanded, his eyes never leaving the landscape outside. "Continue interrogating the prisoners and capture more until we extract the password. I will locate them all, even if I have to scour and incinerate every last wretched inch of this accursed planet."
"Understood, sir," Zarbon immediately pressed a few buttons on his tablet with swift and efficient movements. "Strategy implemented, sir."
Frieza paused, his head tilting slightly as he processed Zarbon's words. "Implemented? As in already in effect?"
"Yes, sir, precisely. To minimize delays, I had already briefed our forces on potential strategies upon our return. I've also taken the liberty to send a few of our ships into orbit to serve as makeshift satellites for coordination and aerial surveillance of the planet."
"…" Frieza looked back at Zarbon, slightly taken aback. After a brief moment, his surprise transformed into a sense of satisfaction, a rare emotion for the galactic tyrant. He nodded his head slightly with a light smile. "Competent as always."
"Thank you, my lord."
"…Say, Zarbon, it has been quite some time, hasn't it? Remind me why we continue to tolerate Dodoria?" Frieza clasped his hands behind his back again as he resumed gazing at Namek, though his tail flicked in agitation, a clear sign of his growing irritation
"Her battle power and the unique nature of her energy make her a formidable presence on the battlefield, my Lord, even if her intelligence and hobbies are rather... unimpressive," Zarbon responded smoothly.
Frieza chuckled, though his expression grew increasingly irate. "Formidable, you say? When any member of the Ginyu Force is quite literally worth three of her in power? Hmph, how 'formidable' can this woman truly be if she couldn't even kill three weaklings quickly? One of whom I even left mortally wounded for her, if memory serves."
Frieza's chuckle faded, replaced by unbound irritation, his previously relaxed mood dissipating like mist beneath a scorching sun.
"Far, far more than 30 minutes have passed, and I've shown enough leniency with Dodoria. If she returns, kill her. I will not tolerate such inefficiency and incompetence among my ranks any longer."
"As you command, Lord Frieza."
Zarbon opened his mouth to continue, but hesitated for a moment, uncertainty briefly flickering across his usually composed features. He glanced down at his tablet, then back up, as if weighing the potential consequences.
This rare display of doubt did not go unnoticed.
Frieza, always observant, caught the fleeting moment in the reflection on the synthetic glass. The galactic emperor's gaze remained fixed on the Namekian landscape outside, but a slight teasing smirk curved his lips upward.
"I don't often see that expression on you, Zarbon. Perhaps you can remind me why I keep you around?"
Zarbon took a moment to gather his thoughts, ensuring his response would be truthful.
"My Lord, you are unparalleled on the battlefield. However, with all due respect, your abilities in areas unrelated to combat and... genocide, such as administration, are atrocious. Without me, sir, the Frieza Force would collapse upon itself within three days."
Frieza froze in surprise at the unexpected snark, his composure faltering for a split second. Though he had not moved, the way he held himself suggested that he had nearly stumbled. Slowly, he turned back to face Zarbon with incredulity.
Zarbon met Frieza's stare with a cocked eyebrow, unruffled and unimpressed.
"Three days, you say? Surely not that soon?" Frieza's lips began to curl upward in response to Zarbon's boldness.
"Fair enough, Lord Frieza," Zarbon replied, his tone impeccably dry. "Perhaps three business days would be the more accurate estimate."
There was a moment of silence in the room. Then, unexpectedly, Frieza began to laugh. It started as a low chuckle but quickly escalated into full-blown laughter, with one hand elegantly covering Frieza's mouth.
"Hohoho! Your audacity never fails to amuse me, Zarbon."
"Anytime, my Lord."
Having overcome his earlier hesitation, Zarbon quickly entered several commands on his tablet. Within moments, a detailed projection appeared on the wall, showcasing various metrics and readouts.
"Regarding Dodoria, Lord Frieza. As of an hour and forty-three minutes ago, her scouter lost connection with the main host server. Approximately four minutes later, our surveillance team detected that Dodoria's signature had faded. It is likely that she has been killed."
Frieza shifted his focus to the projection, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the array of data.
"How intriguing. It seems that the impudent little intruder had more tricks up his sleeve than I anticipated…" Frieza trailed off, his eyes catching something else of interest. "Ah, and it appears Cui has met his end as well?"
"Yes... and I accept full responsibility for that, sir. I had neglected to take into account the fact that Vegeta likely received a Zenkai boost from his excursion to Earth. If this is indeed true, which I highly suspect it was, then Cui was not the appropriate individual to send after Vegeta."
Frieza turned to face Zarbon, his gaze sharp and assessing. He studied Zarbon for a moment, observing the subtle tension in his subordinate's posture, the almost imperceptible unease. Frieza scoffed.
"I expect competency, Zarbon, not perfection. It would be rather unreasonable to demand such from you. A stronger Vegeta is but a minor inconvenience, incapable of altering the inevitable outcome. Besides, Cui was ultimately a grunt, nothing more."
"Thank you for your lenience, sir," Zarbon said, bowing his head slightly. Cui was an elite warrior with lower-than-normal clearance, not a grunt, but Zarbon wisely remained silent, recognizing the mercy his Lord was offering him.
He swept his fingers across the tablet, displaying the current locations of the Ginyu Force. "My lord, I would suggest recalling the Ginyu Force."
"Oh, and why is that?" Frieza rested his chin on his hand. He trusted Zarbon's judgment implicitly and already understood the rationale behind the recommendation, but he valued hearing Zarbon's logic. He highly appreciated those who could present compelling arguments against or independent of his decisions; it was a measure of true competency. Conversely, he despised sycophants and yes-men.
"With Cui and Dodoria deceased, I am the sole remaining elite warrior among our forces here. Given the current situation, our regular troops are ill-equipped to handle threats like Vegeta, Nappa, Dodoria's killer, or any potential elites among the remaining Namekians. At a time when we need to spread out our forces to carpet-search the entire planet, having elite warriors to lead the effort is necessary. Considering the average power level of most Ginyu Force members is around 70 thousand, they are ideal candidates for this task."
Frieza nodded in approval, appreciating that Zarbon had omitted him from the count of elite warriors. He had no interest in personally scouring the planet for Dragon Balls. The Ginyu Force could handle that tedious task. They would clean up the mess and demonstrate what true power and efficiency looked like.
"Approved. Recall the Ginyu Force immediately and ensure they arrive in the shortest possible time frame. What is their ETA?"
Zarbon didn't answer the question verbally. Without a single wasted moment, the projection on the wall automatically displayed a detailed travel trajectory and an estimated time of arrival of 5 days.
Frieza watched as the projection updated to show urgent summons being dispatched to each of the five members of the Ginyu Force. Although brief and standardized, each pre-drafted message still conveyed urgency and emphasized the immediate need for their return.
"…Excellent," Frieza had nothing more to add in the face of such efficiency. Zarbon could personally kill a hundred more Cuis and still be forgiven with nothing more than a slap on the wrist.
The projection on the wall dissolved into the room's ambient light as Zarbon seamlessly transitioned to the next item on his tablet. Frieza frowned slightly as he belatedly noticed the extensive list. He settled into his seat behind the desk with an air of resignation, mentally bracing himself for an extended session.
"My lord, I must brief you on several other matters concerning the universe at large."
Frieza sighed silently but nodded, motioning for Zarbon to proceed. He knew these discussions were necessary, even if they were unwelcome interruptions.
"Galactic Patrol forces are hovering aggressively near the Empire's territory. There is a slight possibility that armed conflict could break out," Zarbon reported evenly.
Frieza's reaction was immediate. He shot up from his chair in a sudden burst of rage, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
"What?! I've been away for less than a month and they're already growing insolent? Who gave them the guts?!"
Zarbon remained composed, steadfastly absorbing the full force of Frieza's anger.
"My Lord, this time their reaction may be justified," Zarbon carefully measured Frieza's reaction, before continuing. "According to the Empire's information network, approximately one galactic standard week ago, the self-proclaimed Namekian warlord Slug attacked and ransacked Galactic Patrol Prison Epsilon. He liberated and forcibly recruited all inmates. The rest were killed."
"Impossible!" Frieza adamantly retorted, responding almost instantly. "Those Galactic Patrol prisons? I should commend them on finally getting their act together after that successful attack on their prison two decades ago. Now, not even our advanced technology could locate their new prisons, let alone the pile of scraps that the Namekian rebel had at his disposal!"
"Your deduction is correct, sir. Internally within the Empire, it is known that the Heeters have somehow managed to crack the location of a Galactic Prison. Your father wanted nothing to do with the discovered Prison Epsilon, the lowest ranking of the four, but shortly after, it was raided by Slug."
Frieza listened attentively as Zarbon provided additional context, his expression turning colder and more infuriated with each detail. His eyes narrowed, but he remained silent, waiting for Zarbon to continue with his report.
"The Galactic Patrol has uncovered this intel and publicly classified the Heeter Force as a terrorist organization. They have issued a statement demanding the Heeters be brought into custody under galactic law for destabilizing peace across the universe."
"As the primary information brokers for the Empire, the Heeters' involvement led the Galactic Patrol to correctly infer that your father was aware of the incident," Zarbon continued. "In response, your father has denied all allegations. However, this only fueled the Galactic Patrol's accusation that the Cold Empire harbored the Heeters. At present, the Galactic Patrol dared not to declare the Cold Empire under the same stroke as they have with the Heeters."
"Of course not," Frieza sneered, his eyes burning with an icy intensity. "If they dared, we would annihilate them."
The room fell into a tense silence as the information settled between them. Suddenly, Frieza exploded in a fit of rage. Without warning, he slammed his fist down on the desk with such force that it shattered into pieces, sending debris flying across the room.
"These cursed Heeters!" Frieza seethed, his voice dripping with venom as he paced the room. "I always knew those wretches were scheming in the shadows. They showed too much composure before me! How dare they! Especially Gas! Always so coldly dismissive, as though I'm unworthy of consideration when a single finger of mine holds more power than he could ever dream of!"
Zarbon, accustomed to Frieza's tirades about the Heeters, listened with only half his attention, allowing the emperor to vent his frustrations without interruption.
Frieza's deep-seated animosity toward the Heeters was well-known throughout the Empire, a long-standing feud that had only intensified with time. Though his Lord had always been courteous towards them, Zarbon was confident that the Heeters would've been long obliterated had King Cold not forbidden his Lord from doing so.
"Technically, sir, they haven't wronged us. They fulfilled their end of the bargain by presenting the information to your father first. Their subsequent actions, exploiting a loophole to resell the information, while cunning, did not breach any explicit agreements. Your father is currently handling them, but I suspect the Empire will continue employing their services, albeit with stricter oversight."
Zarbon's explanation managed to temper Frieza's fury, though it still smoldered within him. In a sudden burst of frustration, Frieza kicked at the shattered table, sending splinters of wood scattering across the floor.
He had always tolerated the presence of the Heeters due to their usefulness, but they were becoming a significant liability. While he doubted he could persuade his father to declare them enemies of the state, he was determined to exert his influence to ensure they suffered for their insolence.
Stepping over the wreckage of his desk, Frieza strode toward the window once more, his expression unreadable as he gazed out beyond the ship.
"Tsk, the Heeters can wait. As for the Galactic Patrol, those cowards dare not escalate with my father at the helm," Frieza's face twisted into a sneer of contempt. "And as for that slug… hmph! Does he truly believe a band of useless misfits could challenge me? Imbecile! It only means there are more insects for me to crush."
"It is as you say, Lord Frieza," Zarbon paused. "As a side note, Slug is gunning for Namek as we speak. Based on Prison Epsilon's location, we estimate Slug's ETA to Namek to be approximately 2 weeks. However, in addition to that, I'm afraid there is worse news, sir."
"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" Frieza's expression almost crumpled as he showed his exasperation with a very rarely used expletive. "I took one vacation–just one! And everything immediately went to shit?"
"Well, this one isn't related to the Empire, sir," Zarbon began, projecting a detailed list onto the wall once more. "Your father has issued a warning to Lord Cooler and yourself to remain cautious and vigilant. Code Black Anomaly designated as Machinery Hivemind had unexpectedly departed from its fixed location and wandered off to areas unknown. Initial estimates place its current whereabouts somewhere in the Eastern Quadrant."
"Machinery Hivemind…" Frieza mumbled to himself, trying to recall the specifics. "That planet composed entirely of machines?"
Zarbon nodded in affirmation.
"Useless information. So, what if it has moved? Eastern Quadrant is Cooler's territory. Besides, the anomaly list is made for the rank and file, not for someone of my caliber."
Zarbon shook his head in response to Frieza's assertion. "I respectfully disagree, sir. Even the second highest rank, Code Crimson, includes recommended power levels for engagement. However, Code Black—a blanket flee-on-sight order that specifically does not list any power level requirements—implies that it has been tailored specifically for Lord Cooler and you, my Lord."
Frieza raised an eyebrow, visibly displeased at being categorized alongside the rest of the Frieza Force under the Code Black protocol. His pride stung, but he did not blame Zarbon.
Frieza understood that a Code Black designation was not issued lightly–as it theoretically implied a threat so severe that not even beings of his caliber were capable of confronting. Yet, his father had always been explicit about only two warriors never to provoke.
Only two.
If these others were truly so formidable, his father would have issued similar warnings.
"The Sacred World of the Kai, Planet Beerus, and wherever Majin Buu is sealed—fine. I can understand Father's rationale," Frieza stated matter-of-factly, raising a finger as he enumerated each location. "But Galactic Prisons, Galactic Patrol Headquarters, this Machinery Hivemind, or Namek of all places? Code Black? Absurd. I can crush the Galactic Patrol whenever I please, and as for Namek, I have not once felt threatened here, did you?"
"…well, regardless, these anomalies are places that your father himself avoids. And King Cold can hardly be described as a fool, Lord Frieza."
Frieza shot Zarbon a sharp glance.
"And here I thought my father, with all his immense power, would show more courage," Frieza remarked with a snide glance, subtly conveying disappointment at his father's hesitation. "Let him tremble on his throne if he wishes. Meanwhile, I shall seize immortality within my hands."
With that declaration, Frieza turned his gaze back toward the window, staring out into the expansive vista of Namek.
Sensing the finality in Frieza's tone and demeanor, Zarbon bowed respectfully. "By your leave, Lord Frieza," he said, understanding that the conversation had reached its conclusion. Despite the remaining incomplete reports, Zarbon took his leave from the room.
Left alone in his office, Frieza continued to calmly watch his soldiers depart in disciplined formations, eyes swirling with unknown thoughts.
***
Only 5 days remained until the Ginyu Force arrived.