~ A Day Later: Frieza Force Flagship ~
Frieza sat in a normal, non-mahogany chair within his office, his chin propped on his hand and his eyes reflecting a cold, detached gaze. A full day had passed since the battle, and his initial fiery rage had subsided, replaced by a fury burning as cold as ice. Despite this, his face remained emotionless, betraying none of the anger hiding just beneath the surface.
He now understood why Zarbon had failed to contact him with an update.
He stared silently at the coffin resting at the center of the room. Inside lay what little remained of Zarbon's corpse, completely unrecognizable from the figure who had once served him so faithfully.
He had already decided to honor Zarbon with a grand burial, complete with the finest accolades befitting his rank, once he returned to the Cold Empire. However, this did not change the fact that Zarbon's death had left a significant void in his organization. Zarbon had been his most trusted confidant and second-in-command for decades, and unlike the expendable grunts or even lieutenants like Dodoria, Zarbon's loss was a severe blow to the future of the Frieza Force.
Zarbon would also be missed on a more… personal level, but that was all Frieza was willing to admit about that.
"Vegeta, Vegeta, Vegeta! I should have known letting you live was a mistake!" Frieza snarled, his voice dripping with venom. His tail lashed out ferociously, slamming into the floor with such force that the entire ship trembled violently. The metal walls groaned under the abuse, and the portable lights around the coffin flickered ominously as if echoing their master's wrath.
Frieza cared nothing for the damage he had caused to the ship. After the destruction of the main and backup energy cores, it was not as if the ship was operational anyway. Yet he had chosen to remain aboard this useless vessel, standing vigil over Zarbon's corpse.
Frieza wasn't typically interested in burial customs, but over two decades ago, during a particularly uneventful conquest, Zarbon had mentioned, in a casual off-hand remark, a tradition from his homeworld. According to this custom, a family member or a formidable warrior, in their transformed state, was assigned to watch over the deceased for an entire day and night. This guardian's strength and monstrous form were believed to be capable of safeguarding the departed soul on its journey to the afterlife by repelling any malevolent spirits that might challenge the soul's ascension to paradise.
Frieza didn't believe in paradise, but he was certain there was no warrior stronger or more monstrous than he. As long as he stood guard, Zarbon's journey to whatever afterlife awaited him would be unchallenged.
A few minutes later, a hesitant knock sounded at the door of his office. It smoothly slid open to reveal a small group of four soldiers. They entered cautiously, only to immediately freeze as they walked face-first into an almost solid wave of malevolence. Their eyes instantly fell to the floor. Even after a day, their Lord remained in this unfamiliar and monstrous form.
It wouldn't be wrong to say they had never seen their Lord in such a state of fury before. The tales of his wrath had always been frightening, but experiencing it firsthand was a different matter altogether. Despite their fear, they took trembling steps forward, each soldier feeling like they were marching toward their deaths.
Frieza's emotionless stare moved from the cold metal coffin to the trembling soldiers before him. "Report," he commanded curtly.
One of the soldiers was suddenly shoved to the forefront by his comrade. He shot a venomous glare at his squadmate, fully aware that this was no different than being pushed into a minefield or directly into oncoming gunfire. But the oppressive silence from Lord Frieza served as a harsh reminder that it was best not to keep his Lord waiting.
He silently prayed to his God for another chance at life, while on the outside, he swallowed hard and stammered out his report. "W-We have scoured the area, my Lord, but we still could not locate any of the Dragon Balls!"
Frieza's cold gaze locked onto the soldier's eyes.
"And? Is that all you have to say?" Frieza inquired with an unnervingly calm tone, almost devoid of emotion.
The soldier found Frieza's flat, emotionless voice to be even more terrifying than a rage-filled outburst. The soldier's breath hitched in his throat as he frantically tried to backpedal.
"N–no! W-Well, you see, Lord Frieza, if we had more... specific instructions, we might achieve better results. P-perhaps we're missing something obvious!" He shifted nervously, unable to meet Frieza's eyes.
"Ah, I see. So you believe that 'locate Vegeta and the Namekians by any means necessary' isn't specific enough. You must have a better suggestion then. Please, enlighten me on what 'obvious' details I'm missing."
The soldier didn't need to look up to know he had fucked up. His face lost all color as the gravity of his error sank in. He began to panic, desperately trying to rectify his words. "N-No, Lord Frieza! I-I didn't mean to imply that! You misunderstood my words!"
Frieza's tail flicked behind him with dangerous impatience.
"Oh? I misunderstood you? Then please, do clarify. What exactly should I be instructing my soldiers to do?"
The soldier's mouth went dry at his Lord's unnervingly calm words, his thoughts a jumbled mess of fear and regret.
"I-I only meant that maybe we overlooked some details, my Lord. I swear I didn't intend to question your orders!"
"Is that so? Then what, exactly, is this crucial detail we might have missed? Surely you had something in mind before you opened your mouth, did you not? Go on then; I am open to suggestions."
"I-I don't know, my Lord. I only wanted to suggest that perhaps we should reconsider our approach..." This was the only thought the soldier's panicked mind could muster to save himself, but his comrades behind him all subtly winced.
"I see. You think I'm an idiot." Frieza's voice was so soft that it was almost a whisper. Slowly, he removed his chin from his hand and rose from his chair, his imposing second form towering over the cowering grunt. "In your eyes, I'm incapable of grasping the obvious and giving an effective command. If not that, perhaps you think I'm foolish enough to be deceived by a few flowery excuses. Am I right?"
What little remained of the soldier's resolve shattered. He dropped to his knees, his hands trembling uncontrollably. "N-No, my Lord! Please, forgive me! This is just a misunderstanding! I only—"
"Shut your mouth. I have misunderstood nothing."
Before the soldier could respond, an agonized, inhuman scream ripped itself from his throat. His body convulsed violently as he was lifted into the air by an invisible force. Spine-chilling sounds of bones cracking under immense pressure echoed from within him. His once-pristine armor began to darken with dark splotches of crimson as his blood seeped through and stained it.
Slowly and torturously, the soldier's body was squeezed inch by inch, his limbs bending and twisting into unnatural positions. His screams grew more frantic as his body writhed in agony, contorted by Frieza's power with excruciating slowness.
Frieza watched the spectacle with his arms clasped behind his back, his expression unchanged. A hint of mild amusement flickered in his eyes.
The soldier's screams gradually faded into high-pitched, gurgling sounds as his lungs collapsed under the immense pressure. The ragged, uneven gasps of his breath were punctuated by the sickening crack of snapping bones and the nauseating squelch of flesh being forcefully compressed.
The process, which began as a torturous crawl, quickly accelerated. The soldier's body began to compress more rapidly, his flesh and blood smashing together in a grotesque manner. Soon, he was reduced to nothing more than a deformed sphere of raw, twitching flesh no larger than a soccer ball.
Frieza telekinetically sent the ball of flesh out into the corridor. The moment it left the room, it expanded explosively, resulting in a ghastly eruption of blood and gore that splattered across the walls and floor of the hallway. In an instant, the section of the corridor outside the office was painted a vivid red.
The remaining soldiers stood frozen, their faces ashen with fear. None dared to turn their heads or glance back, keeping their eyes fixed straight down on the floor as if ignoring the horrific scene behind them would make it magically disappear.
Frieza turned his gaze to the three remaining soldiers and spoke in the same monotone.
"Report."
Acting quickly, one soldier detached from the group and kneeled before Frieza.
"Captain Ginyu is expected to arrive soon, sir!" The soldier's voice was strained. He cast a nervous glance toward the spot where his ill-fated comrade had met his gruesome end, the horrifying scene still vivid in his mind. He hastily amended his report, "—estimated to be within 20 minutes, sir!"
Frieza's expression remained inscrutable as he stared intently at the trembling soldier. Slowly, he began to walk toward the soldiers, each step echoing in the nearly empty room. The soldiers fell to their knees and prostrated themselves in abject terror, their faces pressed against the floor.
Frieza's pace was steady as he approached and then passed them. He reached the doorframe and paused, looking back over his shoulder dispassionately. "Follow me and continue reporting."
The unspoken "or else" in his command hung like the blade of a guillotine.
Frieza gave the soldiers exactly one second to comply, but the room had erupted with the sounds of frantic shuffling and clattering armor long before the second was up.
Without turning around, Frieza stepped beyond the doorframe, floating above the bloody section of the corridor to avoid the mess.
~ At the Same Time: Outside Mothership ~
Frieza stood with growing impatience, his hands clasped behind his back. His tail flicked lightly against the ground, a subtle sign of his irritation, though his soldiers were not attuned enough to recognize it.
Before long, five sleek attack pods shot through the sky, their metallic surfaces gleaming under the sunlight. They descended in a precise, coordinated formation, and landed smoothly in a perfectly straight line in front of the Frieza Force mothership. The pods touched down with a soft hiss, their doors opening with a mechanical whir.
One by one, the figures emerged from the pods. Their armor was marked with an elaborate, inverted 'A' engraved into the metal just above their hearts. The five team members varied widely in stature and color, from towering giants to lean, agile figures, but each exuded an unmistakable aura of confidence and power.
They were the elites.
At least, that was the initial impression.
That first impression was often quickly overshadowed by their more... colorful traits.
Typically, as soon as the Ginyu Force emerged from their pods, they would burst into their signature Tokusentai dance with all of its dramatic, over-the-top poses. It was an absurd spectacle, but over the years, this eccentric ritual had become a defining hallmark of all of their public appearances.
Despite their absurdity, their outlandish performances had earned them a devoted, almost cult-like fanbase among the children of the Cold Empire. Their elaborate choreography and flamboyant poses proved immensely popular, with their various media projects generating box office and merchandise revenue that sometimes exceeded the earnings of entire planets.
To any adults watching, especially those unaccustomed to such flamboyance, the Ginyu Force's ostentatious display could induce secondhand embarrassment strong enough to kill the faint-hearted.
However, this time they refrained from their usual antics. Despite their lively personas, the Ginyu Force were still elite warriors, and none of them were blind. Before them stood Lord Frieza, enraged, in his second form.
While only Jeice and Ginyu were aware of the full extent of Frieza's transformations, all of them recognized the need for utmost seriousness. The overwhelming pressure of Lord Frieza's presence made it clear that their usual theatrics were not just inappropriate—it could get them killed.
In response to Frieza's fierce demeanor, all five members of the Ginyu Force adopted an unusually serious demeanor. They dropped to one knee in unison, forming a V pattern with Ginyu at the forefront.
"Ginyu Force reporting for duty!" Their voices echoed in perfect harmony. Each member remained in position, kneeling in the V formation with their eyes fixed on the ground before Frieza.
Frieza looked down at his elite subordinates with a faint trace of approval. He was pleased to see that they could discern when their usual entrance rituals were appropriate and when they were not.
He might unintentionally kill some of them if he had to subject his eyes to their Tokusentai routine in his current mood.
"Good. You all understand that I don't have the patience for your antics today," Frieza said. He took a controlled breath, his eyes narrowing as his tone grew icy. "I have two missions for you, and only two. First, avenge Zarbon by eliminating Vegeta, his allies, and any other living beings on this planet. Second, retrieve the five balls in their possession. Do not return until these tasks are completed!"
Ginyu quickly surveyed his team and noticed the uncertain glances exchanged among them at the odd order. Recoome was the exception. His face had lit up with a broad grin and an eagerness that seemed almost out of place.
"Uhh, Lord Frieza?" Ginyu began hesitantly. "It will take us longer if you want us to retrieve their balls…"
"You will find, Ginyu, that your concerns are of no interest to me. However, I recommend you complete this task quickly before I lose what little patience I have left. Review the briefing and carry out the mission. Dismissed."
Frieza's tone left no room for argument.
Ginyu was momentarily taken aback by the harshness of Frieza's response, though he still tried to voice his concern. "But we didn't receive any mission—" he began, but he quickly slammed his mouth shut as Frieza's displeasure grew more intense. The fierceness of Frieza's gaze was so fierce that even the usually confident Ginyu shrank slightly.
Due to his efficiency, Ginyu seldom faced Frieza's displeasure or anger directly, but it was obvious that Lord Frieza was dangerously close to losing his temper.
"Y-yes, Lord Frieza! Right away, in a flash, at our fastest speed!" Ginyu snapped a brisk salute to Frieza, a gesture his team promptly mirrored.
Ginyu signaled his team, and the Ginyu Force quickly sprang into action. They lifted off in an organized formation, swiftly heading toward their targets, wherever they might be.
Frieza's frustration began to subside as he turned away. The Ginyu Force's swift and purposeful departure had provided him with a semblance of reassurance. Despite their quirks, the Ginyu Force were his most dependable subordinates, and their impeccable track record spoke volumes of their capabilities. They had never failed him before, and he took comfort in that certainty as he made his way back to his ship.
Upon reaching the entrance of his ship, Frieza noticed a solitary grunt kneeling by the doorway. The soldier's posture was one of complete submission, his head bowed and his body rigid. Despite his visible nervousness, the grunt maintained his position with discipline, waiting for Frieza to address him.
"Speak."
"My Lord," the grunt said respectfully. "We have captured a Namekian during an expedition. Our return coincided with Captain Ginyu's, so we waited for your meeting to conclude."
Frieza's gaze sharpened at the mention of the Namekian. His interest was immediately piqued; capturing a Namekian was a welcome success after days of setbacks. He did not waste time with pleasantries. The Namekians were crucial to his objectives, and any information or leverage they could provide was invaluable.
"Excellent. Lead the way."
"Yes sir!"
Fortunately for Frieza's patience, the walk from the entrance to the ship's holding cell was swift. The corridors were traversed quickly, and soon Frieza stood before the reinforced cell housing his new captive.
The cell itself was stark and utilitarian, built with security as its primary concern rather than comfort. Its walls were lined with heavy metal that shone with a harsh, clinical sheen. The dim lighting cast long shadows, enhancing the cell's menacing and foreboding atmosphere.
Frieza halted just outside the cell and peered inside with an almost predatory gaze. His gaze swept over the prisoner, taking in every detail. The Namekian, confined within, sat on the floor with a look of defiance—or perhaps resignation—on his face. A cruel smile slowly spread across Frieza's lips as recognition sparked in his eyes.
"Well, well, well. Greetings, Elder. It seems we meet again."
Inside the cell, Elder Moori was shackled by heavy chains on each limb. He looked up wearily, the chains clinking softly as he moved.
"Hello, demon."
Frieza laughed deeply at the unflattering moniker. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he signaled the grunt to step aside. As the door to the ship closed behind the soldier, Frieza turned his attention back to Elder Moori, tilting his head as the surroundings grew darker.
Now, it was just the two of them.
"You should already be familiar with my habits, Elder. Now, it's time for you to demonstrate your wisdom once again. Tell me everything you know, and you may walk free. Remember, I never ask twice."
Elder Moori lifted his head defiantly, the chains clinking softly with the movement. His eyes locked onto Frieza's with resolute fire, and he let out a harsh chuckle.
"Go fuck yourself."
Frieza's lips curled into a smile. "How crude," he replied, shaking his head with feigned disappointment.
Frieza approached the cell and effortlessly pried the sturdy, reinforced metal bars open. Stepping inside the cell, past the severely bent bars, the galactic emperor crouched in front of Moori.
"I had hoped you'd choose the hard way," Frieza drawled with sinister satisfaction. He traced a black fingernail down Moori's weathered cheek, drawing a faint trail of blood. "I must apologize in advance, Elder. I have quite some frustrations to work through."
"Do your worst, demon. You shall not break me."
"Ohohoho! That's what they all say."
Frieza's hand descended, blood splattered, and Moori's scream filled the air.