Going Native: Desire for the End (ch. 66) (Patreon)

"The Warworld has been spotted, Lord Frieza," Ada'la heard someone relay, and a hint of tension eased out of her with the news. The message that Prince Tarble had sent out had reached everyone -- that the Warworld and its owner, Mongul, had attacked Thanagar. Just as the following news of Thanagar's theft had reached them. In the three days since Ada'la arrived, things had gotten rather… tense.

"Oh? I'd like to see it," Lord Frieza mused, lazily flicking his tail back and forth as it was draped over his hovering throne. He sat at the head of a long table, and seated at it were the most powerful people in the Trade Organization. The upper echelon of the Board of Directors. A dozen men and women, some of which Prince Tarble knew personally.

Such as Vril Dox, one of the leading experts on technology development. He was proving to be one of the Prince's most valuable supporters. The rest? They blew whichever way the wind was blowing. They supported the Prince as long as he was favored. With the loss of Thanagar, the rising star of the TO had a stain on it. A single blemish. And there were many that were all too keen on using that as an excuse to tear that star out of its rapid ascent.

Such as the Supreme Commander of the Trade Organization Armed Forces, Zarbon. Tall and handsome, with sea-green hair and skin that had a bluish hue to it. He sat at Lord Frieza's right, looking dignified, but there was a sneer on his face when the Warworld appeared as a holographic projection.

No trace of the damage that had been reportedly done to it. Given the method of travel of which it arrived, the obvious conclusion was that it had been repaired in slipspace. A bold move. Befitting Prince Tarble. Yet, a risky one. After all, Prince Tarble controlled a sizable magic division and some might question his motives in using slipstream, and inadvertently making Lord Frieza wait three days for a report, rather than using magic teleportation.

"Ready for battle. The monkey could try something now that it thinks it has a big enough rock in its hand," Zabron said. He gave an order, and the fleet that he had arrived with shifted into position. Ada'la, from her view as she stood at the door, little more than an attendant, saw the hologram shift. Tens of thousands of ships arranged themselves in a defensive position, guarding Lord Frieza's capital ship against the Warworld. Lord Frieza looked amused, his head propped up on a hand as he leaned into his throne, but he said nothing.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ada'la saw Prince Vegeta stiffen as he knelt at the base of the table. He hadn't been given a chair, and for three days, he had been forced to bow to display his humility. Ada'la would give him this -- he had far more of it that Ada'la realized. Out of the two, Prince Tarble was the clear better of the two, and based on his reputation, she hadn't expected Vegeta to last a minute. Much less days.

"We have received a hail from the Warworld. Prince Tarble is in control of it," a voice announced.

"All weapons are cold. No drone swarm activity spotted," Another followed up.

"Prince Tarble is requesting permission to board, Lord Frieza." A third announced.

Lord Frieza gazed at the Warworld, a finger tapping on his throne. The tension in the room ramped up, becoming nearly unbearable. For a dreadful moment, Ada'la feared that Lord Frieza would refuse permission. In the three days that they spent waiting for Prince Tarble's arrival, Lord Frieza had yet to say a word for him or against him. The fact that his ire was unknown made it so much worse.

"Granted," Lord Frieza agreed, the word light as a feather. A slight grin appeared on his face, and it was clear he knew exactly what he was doing. Tension eased out of Ada'la when one of the techs announced that Prince Tarble had left the Warworld and was flying over.

The Board of Directors shifted, some sharing glances, while others shared scowls. Of the twelve, nine of them had spoken out against Prince Tarble. Four of which Prince Tarble had prior dealings with. They accused him of being everything under the sun -- an incompetent fool to a traitor plotting treason. Vril was the only one openly supporting Prince Tarble, while the rest were hedging their bets by saying nothing.

In the end, their opinions mattered little. It was Lord Frieza's opinion that mattered. If Prince Tarble proved that he still had Lord Frieza's favor, then he would remain untouchable.

"Oh, my," Lord Frieza remarked when Prince Tarble boarded a few moments later. "It seems that your brother has surpassed you again, Vegeta." He remarked, causing the heir to the Saiyan throne to scowl deeply. Ada'la kept her confusion off of her face in favor of turning to the door.

A second later, Prince Tarble stepped through it. Ada'la saw that she had been right -- Prince Tarble would grow up to become a handsome man. No longer was he a boy in appearance, but he had finally hit a growth spurt that Ada'la knew he had long since desired.

He stood tall at six feet tall, taller if you count his hair. Prince Tarble took after his father and brother, but Ada'la saw hints of his mother in his face. A strong jawline with a stubborn chin, high cheekbones… his eyes were yellow, showing that he was in the Wrath State, but beyond a smoldering expression, it would be impossible to tell. He wore a black undersuit with silver lines that seemed to trace his anatomy, making his muscles seem more defined, though the undersuit stopped midway at his forearms.

He didn't wear armor or his cape. Instead, he wore red fabric that was folded around his waist to preserve his modesty. It was also held up with his tail coiled around his waist. The minimalist outfit brought attention to his necklace of trophies -- a Nth metal necklace with a green, yellow, and red power ring. However, at the center was a round disk about an inch across. That trophy, Ada'la realized, came from Mongul.

Prince Tarble strode into the meeting room without fear, coming to a stop next to his brother before dropping to a knee. "Lord Frieza, I have failed you. Thanagar was lost because of my negligence and inability," Prince Tarble started, his voice was low and bass-y. It suited him well. "As an apology for failing to live up to your expectations, I wish to give you the Warworld. It cannot do anything you cannot already do with your own power, but I can say from experience -- finding it hovering above your planet is a rather frightening experience."

The board of Directors shared looks -- they clearly hadn't expected that, but they knew better than to display their shock. Though, one or two temporarily failed when Lord Frieza began to chuckle.

“Ah, Tarble. As earnest as ever, it would seem,” Lord Frieza remarked, not sounding displeased. But, in the past three days… Ada’la had learned that meant little. Of the twelve Board of Directors that were in their room, each was allowed one attendant. Three days later, Ada’la was the only one that remained, and likely only because she was Prince Tarble’s representative. On the second day, Ada’la watched Lord Frieza kill a man for obeying an order to the letter. Another for completing a task too quickly.

Or any reason that Lord Frieza desired. Fail, and he might kill you. Succeed, and he still might.

Prince Tarble knelt with his head held low, a gesture of complete submission. “Oh, do stand up. Vegeta, you as well- ah, that’s it. I was right! Tarble is taller!” Lord Frieza cackled, laughing in pure delight as he humiliated the heir to the Saiyan throne. From her position, it was impossible to see what their expressions might be, but Prince Vegeta’s hands curled into fists. “Now, leave. You are no longer needed here.”

Ada’la saw Vegeta’s expression shift from a blank mask to a furious scowl the moment that he turned around and marched out of the room, likely furious at the casual dismissal.

“Though, Tarble, I must say -- when you give a gift, it’s not particularly smart to state how it’s useless to me. Especially when you lost one of considerable value,” Lord Frieza remarked, his tone light, but there was a hidden edge in his words.

“I was being honest, Lord Frieza. The Warworld is an incredible weapon of war. Whoever designed it created it for that exact purpose. Its capabilities are only limited to one’s imagination -- in the right hands, it would make whoever owns it utterly unbeatable. In most cases,” Prince Tarble added, inclining his head to Lord Frieza. “Yet, you would be able to obliterate it. Anything it can do, you have surpassed with your own abilities.”

Dear… by the spirits… was he really…?

Lord Frieza chuckled, “Flattery is always nice, especially when you know it’s honest flattery. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that you lost Thanagar. The Warworld is a lovely consolation prize, but as you’ve just admitted, it’s rather useless to me. I prefer my own capital ship. Having a planet-sized one is rather gaudy.” Ada’la swallowed thickly, and for the first time, Ada’la was beginning to wonder if she was about to watch Prince Tarble die.

It hadn’t been a real possibility until just now. He'd had Lord Frieza’s favor for a decade at this point. That all that goodwill could just be… lost in a single mistake…

“Speaking of which, do you even know who took my planet?” Lord Frieza questioned sharply, and it was obvious what the correct answer to that question was.

“I do not,” Prince Tarble instead answered. “We found traces of foreign radiation that we have been unable to identify. Whoever they are, they use a method of teleportation that the Trade Organization has never witnessed.” It was like he was trying to get himself killed. “Given that information, the list of suspects it shortened considerably. If incomplete due to the fact that if they’re able to teleport an entire planet, then remaining unknown is a real possibility.”

Lord Frieza frowned deeply. “That was not what I wanted to hear, Tarble,” He informed, as if he hadn’t already known everything that Prince Tarble said. To that, Prince Tarble had the audacity to chuckle.

“My apologies, Lord Frieza. You are someone that’s incredibly difficult to find a gift for. In the end, I am afraid the only thing I can give you is what I have been giving you for the entirety of my life,” Prince Tarble said, his voice carrying a quiet confidence.

Lord Frieza’s eyes narrowed dangerously, “And that would be?”

“Victory,” Prince Tarble answered simply, the word echoing out in the chamber. There was a beat of silence as everyone processed that, even Lord Frieza seemed caught off guard by the unexpected answer. Only he was not done. “Despite being left alone to fend off the entirety of the galaxy alone, I have held the line. Days ago, I have made the Khundian Empire submit, and with their aid, I am ready to go on the offensive. I am ready to bring this decade long war to a close… and for this, I ask to be made Supreme Commander.”

Zarbon sputtered, standing up so sharply that he managed to knock over his chair. “You insolent monkey! How dare-”

“How dare I?” Prince Tarble interrupted, his voice never rising, but it carried a powerful weight in it that silenced the Supreme Commander. “How dare you. Your petty pride and arrogance have nearly sabotaged the war effort. If you hadn’t stalled every single request I’ve made, then perhaps Thanagar would have been better defended because it wasn’t contested by every faction in the galaxy. Your stupidity and incompetence is on the borderlines of treason.”

Ada’las’ jaw dropped, before she quickly closed her mouth. She… could almost see what he was doing. He was taking control of the conversation. It was just pure unfettered madness to do so before Lord Frieza and the Board of Directors, to the Supreme Commander himself. It was so audacious, that it seemed to catch everyone off guard, which is why it was working.

“We are here to discuss your failing and instead you demand my position?!” Zarbon raged, slamming a fist on the table and warping it.

Prince Tarble nodded, “Yes.”

“I’ll have your head!” Zarbon shouted, rising to his full height. Prince Tarble had grown considerably, but he was still a head and shoulder smaller than the Supreme Commander. He made to walk over to Prince Tarble, intent on following through with his statement. Ada’la braced herself, getting ready to hide behind something, only for the room to pause when a sound echoed through it.

Lord Frieza began to chuckle, then he began to laugh. His shoulders shook as his… unique laugh seemed to echo in the room. The Board of Directors shifted, the only one managing to retain a neutral expression was Vril. Even Prince Tarble seemed caught off guard.

“Ah, Tarble. I had almost forgotten how much you amuse me,” Lord Frieza noted, still laughing. Zarbon gave Lord Freiza a nervous glance -- he clearly was expecting Lord Frieza to back his attempt on Prince Tarble’s life. “Bold. Very bold. It suits you, Tarble.”

“Thank you,” Prince Tarble responded, offering a shallow nod.

Lord Frieza’s gaze swept over the room. It felt like it cut right through Ada’la despite the fact that his gaze hadn’t so much as lingered on her for more than a fraction of a second. “You do have a point, I suppose,” Lord Frieza mused, tapping a finger on the arm of his throne. “You only ever exceeded my expectations before… and the defeat of Mongul was certainly unexpected…” He seemed indecisive, but everyone knew that he had already made a decision.

“I trust that you have a plan then?” Lord Frieza questioned, earning a nod from Prince Tarble. “Would you care to share?”

“With you, Lord Frieza? I would not. However, there are-” Prince Tarble started, only to be cut off when Lord Frieza raised a hand. A purple ball of light appeared before his finger. Ada’las’ heart fell to her stomach, fearing the worst, only for it to not come to pass. Lord Frieza’s hand blurred and light flashed.

A second later, the bodies of the Board of Directors slumped forward or to the side. All but three of them dead. Vril, Zarbon, and another. Three out of the twelve. The most powerful people at the corporate ladder in the Trade Organization, all killed with a flick of the wrist by their shared boss. For… what cause?

“Ah, I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” Lord Frieza sighed, and it was one of contentment. Vril looked at one of the bodies, before lightly pushing it away so it wouldn’t slump towards him, but he was otherwise unsurprised with the action. The same could not be said for Zarbon, much less Ada’la. “Honestly, letting themselves get brainwashed like that. You might be onto something, Tarble -- at what point does incompetence become treason? You’d think they’ve never heard of basic security precautions before.”

Zarbon looked at the corpses of what had once been some of the most influential people in the galaxy. All of a sudden, he seemed to realize that his position might not be as secure as he thought it had been. “I- Lord Frieza-”

“Tarble?” Lord Frieza ignored his Supreme Commander, an action that made Zarbon pale considerably.

“I intend to make a trap for the galaxy in the Vega System,” Tarble answered. There was a few seconds of silence as everyone waited for him to elaborate, but he failed to. Lord Frieza’s lips thinned as he tapped a finger on his throne and that told Prince Tarble he should offer a morsel more of information. “Should it work, I can end the war in a few years. Not centuries.”

Lord Frieza seemed impressed by his audacity, at the very least. “And should you fail?”

“I’ll likely be dead. But, if I’m not for some reason, then my head shall be yours, Lord Frieza,” Prince Tarble dismissed with frightening ease. Or frightening amusement in Lord Frieza’s case, because he chuckled at that.

Then his gaze slid to Zarbon, “I don’t suppose you have such a strategy, Zarbon?” He questioned, sounding as if he had the answer.

"I- of course, my Lord. I have no intention of dragging this war out and wasting precious resources. That being said -- Prince Tarble is a liar. It is impossible to end this war in a few years! Perhaps if we were only fighting the Reach it might still be possible, but because of his unchecked aggression, the entire galaxy has declared against us!" Zarbon accused, jabbing a finger at Prince Tarble as he glared venomously. "Lord Frieza, he is lying. He is telling you what you wish to hear to save his own skin."

Prince Tarble crossed his arm, "I don't lie." Prince Tarble rebuked flatly, "Though, I will take credit for the galaxy declaring on us. It just wasn't for the reason you seem to believe -- I was ordered to defeat the Thanagarian Empire and I did such a good job of it that the rest of the galaxy became very nervous at the prospect of being my neighbor." He met Lord Frieza's gaze unflinchingly, "My plan will work."

Lord Frieza considered that "Vril? You've been awfully quiet. Do you perhaps have any thoughts?" He asked the yellow-skinned man, who watched the conversation with faint interest.

"I do not see how Prince Tarble's plan can work," Virl admitted, earning a triumphant smile from Zarbon. "Then again, I would have believed it was impossible for Prince Tarble and his brother to defeat Mongul. For the entirety of Prince Tarble's life, he has proven that he's the smartest bet. I see no reason to change that now." The more that Vril spoke, the further that expression of triumph fell.

It was all for the sake of drama, Ada'la realized. Lord Frieza made his choice the moment that Prince Tarble walked through the doors. He was just dragging it out for his own amusement. He killed Zarbon's support base -- not just because they were traitors, but because he wanted to make this moment more dramatic. He wanted to see Zarbon slowly begin to realize that he would not see the death of a rising star that threatened his position. Instead, he was losing it entirely.

The expression that he gave was one of pure dread and terror. And it stayed that way. A small Destructo Disk appeared above Prince Tarble's hand, smaller than a dinner plate before he flicked it over to Zarbon. The disk of ki cut through his neck, severing his head. As his body dropped to the ground, Lord Frieza reached out and caught the head, a maniacal grin on his lips as he gazed at the last expression the Supreme Commander would ever wear.

"Ho ho ho!" Lord Frieza laughed, uncaring of the blood that dripped down his wrist, "How unlike you, Tarble! You've always been so even-keeled! I didn't think you had it in you."

Prince Tarble lowered his hand, "Compared to whatever pathetic desperate flailing would come next, death at the height of his terror was a more fitting end to him. I hope you do not disapprove?"

"I don't," Lord Frieza dismissed, setting the head down at the table. Ada'las' stomach clenched at the sight -- seeing video feeds of war had desensitized her a fair bit, but seeing such gore in person was something else. "In that case, I suppose I should congratulate you on becoming my new Supreme Commander."

How did he manage to swing that, Ada'la couldn't help but wonder as Prince Tarble offered a bow. By all rights, Prince Tarble should be dead. Instead, he had received a promotion. And never before had Ada'la ever been more proud of him. For near a decade, she had watched a child grow into a force of nature of a man, and now that man had finally grown into his own.

"I will not fail you, Lord Frieza. This war will end. I'll see to it," Prince Tarble swore.

"I would hope so. Oh, and you may keep the Warworld. I find it tacky," Lord Frieza dismissed them both with a lazy wave of his hand. And it seemed that Prince Tarble's efforts in talking down his gift had succeeded. Prince Tarble offered another bow before leaving and Ada'la did the same, trailing behind the Prince.

The doors slid shut behind them and Ada'la found herself staring at Prince Tarble's back. Out of everything, having him be taller than her was the thing that caught her off guard the most. For so long, he had only reached her knees. Then her hips. Now he was a head taller than her.

"Congratulations are in order," Ada'la remarked as they walked through the halls. There would be a chance to speak about what had just happened when they weren't certainly being listened in on.

Prince Tarble grunted, "I suppose," he agreed. "Though, if I don't manage to end a galaxy standing war in a few years, then I'll be dead." He remarked lightly, making Ada'la pause a half step.

"...You do have a plan, don't you?" Ada'la questioned softly, unable to stop herself. She had so many questions that one of them managed to bubble up to the surface. Because if he had lied straight to Lord Frieza's face…

Prince Tarble glanced over his shoulder to display a smirk that was sharp enough to cut. "I have a bad plan," He admitted. "But it's still a plan."

That wasn't reassuring. That wasn't reassuring at all.

…

"Vegeta," I greeted my brother as he lingered at the docking bay. He wore a deep scowl on his face. The kind that told me that the only reason that the ship was intact was that it was Frieza's flagship. He must have sensed me coming, but he still pointedly ignored my presence. I didn't know how to describe what he was doing other than sulking.

It took a moment to remember that for Vegeta, it had been three days since Thanagar and Mongul. For me, it had been three years. The last time he saw me… I had been mostly dead and a cripple.

Still, it seemed that he wasn't willing to ignore me entirely. "Tarble. You're still alive," he remarked, not sounding surprised.

"For now. Zarbon is dead. I'm the Supreme Commander now," I informed him, ripping the bandage off. Vegeta had about the reaction that I expected. His eyes widened as he leaned off of the wall. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it before he uttered a word. His eyes narrowed into slits. "Things will be changing with the war. Can I count on you?"

Vegeta had come to my aid when I asked once. but things had been strained between us for some time now. For years, he refused to communicate. Because he was… jealous. Because I had surpassed him. I couldn't think of any other explanation. And now I had surpassed him completely. The gap between us had never been wider.

"Is that your base state now?" He asked, not answering the question.

I nodded, "It is. Whatever I did to myself is permanent. I'm stuck at stage ten of the Wrath State," I told him, and Ada'la took in a sharp gasp at the news. I had altered my ki and it could never be undone.

"So, without the multiplier… you'd be around one and a half million base power," Vegeta remarked, sounding like the words were bitter on his tongue. As was the reminder that fifteen million was now the weakest I could make myself. After all, I could hardly suppress my presence when it was actively charging up with the Wrath State.

My growth spurt had represented my largest growth in power to date, multiplying my previous base state by three -- taking me from around five hundred thousand base power to one point five million. Vegeta had seen a similar jump in power, I'm guessing, but he had been weaker than me before. I didn't have my scouter, but I would still place him at less than a million base power. Still extremely powerful by our people's standards, just not as strong as me.

And it bothered him greatly. It was obvious. Especially when he glared up at me because I had a few inches of height on him.

"Vegeta… can I count on you?" I brought the conversation back to its original topic. I needed to know now. I had just been handed the driving wheel to the entire war. I would be in command of all of the fronts, not just a single one. The scale of warfare I would be experiencing would be unlike anything I had experienced before.

More than that, unlike Zarbon, I would be taking an active role in the war. I wouldn't be kicking my feet up in an office and leaving the work to others. I couldn't. Not if I wanted to keep my promise.

This war would end. I would see to it. One way or the other.

And I needed to know if Vegeta and his empire would support me, or if he would hinder me.

Vegeta met my gaze for a long moment. Long enough that I could tell that he was considering brushing me off entirely to pursue the war with his own methods. He might have if it wasn't for a single fact. Neither of us had forgotten what we spoke about with King Vegeta. Nor the discussion that we had. The plan that was laid out.

I was now the Supreme Commander of the Trade Organization Armed Forces. Every army, every fleet -- they all ultimately answered to me. I was now on the Board of Directors. What's more, all of my enemies amongst the Board were dealt with by Frieza himself. I was in the position of power and influence that King Vegeta had spoken about. All that we needed now was for Vegeta to swallow his pride and work with me rather than curse me for reaching this point before him.

Vegeta offered a curt nod, before he slammed a fist on the wall, hitting the docking bay exit. "Fine. I'll try things your way, Tarble," he said before the airlock door closed behind him. I sighed quietly, feeling Vegeta's presence drift away towards his own ship.

I got his cooperation, but I had a feeling that things weren't going to be so simple. Turning to Ada'la, I saw her give me a knowing look, followed by a comforting nod. "He will come around," she offered as a reassurance.

I let out a small huff. "You clearly don't know Vegeta," I remarked. Ada'la had nothing to say to that. I pressed the button to depressurize the room, before summoning a drone with a thought. Rather than empty space, we entered a drone that took us back to the Warworld. The ride was short, but I felt Ada'la's eyes on me the entire way.

"What?" I questioned, looking at her.

"Don't be mad… but I think this would be an excellent time to enter phase three of your marketing plan -- phase two was cut short, but it had a spectacular ending with the defeat of Mongul," Ada'la spoke to herself more than me, her gaze had a glazed over quality to it. "Now that you've reached physical maturity, all sorts of possibilities are now on the table!" She honestly sounded excited at the prospect.

I shrugged, "You know my answer," I dismissed the topic in favor of focusing on the war ahead.

"You don't care so long as it helps the war effort," Ada'la quoted me. "Perfect. I'll have to make some calls. Oh, and don't worry -- I understand the responsibilities you now have. You won't be bothered with interviews, or need to be there in person. At the very worst, you might need to do a voice-over."

"I'll find the time," I offered drily as we arrived at the Warworld. The walls shifted, granting us access, before the drone carried us towards the heart of the Warworld. There, Matillo and Bardock waited.

Getting out, I saw that the Warworld systems were granted access TO systems by Lord Frieza. And my new promotion was officialized. Everything was being transferred over -- battle plans, troop reports, supplies… everything. Every piece of information I could think I might need, I had in abundance.

"I'm guessing the talk went well?" Bardock questioned, leaning against a seat- a throne fit for an alien of Mongul's size. He looked at the information streaming in as layers of windows appeared from the hologram projection. There was so much of it, I nearly felt lost.

"About as well as it could have," I said, taking a seat in the chair. The Warworld hummed in response to my will. There were a great many things that needed to be done. But first…

"Gather the Team," I told Bardock, leaning into my chair as a sharp smirk tugged at the edge of my lips.

"We have a war to win."