The History of the Decline and Fall of the Planet Trade Organization/Volume I

This is the first volume in the series of The History of the Decline and Fall of the Planet Trade Organization. It consists of accounts leading up to Frieza's departure to Planet Namek. All chapters are written in the first-person perspective.

Planet Trade Organization Leaders
This section will detail who is in charge of the Planet Trade Organization as of this volume:

Chapter I: The Historian
There were two cloaked figures standing on the flawlessly marbled floor. Both spoke to one another in low murmurs for some time before being granted approach. Numerous guards lined the distant walls – and they looked quite far off and unthreatening to the two travelers standing in the vast openness. That’s no surprise. King Cold’s guards served not to protect his majesty, but to prevent his audience from getting themselves killed. Usually.

The two eager beings knelt before their great horned ruler. Pleading their case rather passionately, their voices echoed throughout the chamber. For some time, Cold listened to them, his lazy, shrugging shoulders barely supporting his weary and alcohol-deprived face. Finally, he raised his hand, and the two creatures stopped talking. He nodded a single time then dropped his hand to his lap.

The two aliens knelt again and thanked their ruler profusely. Then, they were escorted out of the great slate doors behind. I watched them go. All of the king’s servants did. Without much more talk, King Cold stood up and walked over to a table near his throne and sat down at its head. The nearest servant poured Cold wine (though the king was not in a libatious mood), and two more scrambled to bring him plates of food. Those of us fortunate enough to have earned the king’s respect and trust were allowed to sit with him. And so I did.

After the meal, we excused ourselves, and returned to our duties. Mine were cataloguing species, granting new territories to Cold’s sons, and maintaining galactic history. A trite existence, perhaps. Serving as a historian of the most tyrannical and bloodthirsty empire in galactic history was a bit out of place - ironic, even. But I was necessary and my king knew it.

I had never actually spoken to him. I was chosen at birth and was raised to do my job since I could remember. Well, that’s not entirely true. King Cold groomed several potential historians. He just killed the ones who weren’t efficient. I suppose after one has conquered the galaxy, there isn’t much left to satiate boredom. When he’s ready, I am sure he will recount to me his life; and then his legend will be enshrined in the timeless capsule of historical account.

I followed the procession out of the king’s throne room. There, outside, were the two cloaked figures. They were laid in pools of their own blood, their hoods thrown back, and their throats slashed. Fools. What did they think would happen? I had watched earlier as my king had entertained their speech. They had wanted nothing else but to rid their system of the nuisance of another species. But they had come to the wrong place. King Cold rules the galaxy, yes. But only a select few know of his existence. Such low disputes were none of his concern. Undoubtedly, there will be an investigation about who sent those aliens. Perhaps they sent in scouts to test Cold’s security strength. Or perhaps they were just so ignorant that they didn’t know what they were getting in to. But whoever sent them will be punished most severely. I doubt they will escape with their life. But I can’t say with certainty. I’m not a killer, myself.

I returned to my station as a cleaning crew arrived to clean up the corpses. Sitting at my chair, I looked over the pool of new planets that had been recently conquered or destroyed. Bringing up my datapad, I wrote down the number of species those operations had made extinct. Fifty-eight.

Switching to another screen, I placed beacons over several star systems yet unexplored. Within days, they will be conquered, and the cycle will begin again. The Planet Trade Organization must expand. If it means we will lose trillions of lives in the process, then so be it. They won’t be forgotten. I have kept a record of them all.

Chapter II: Filial Obligation
Lord Frieza was having dinner when I walked in. After months out on the front lines conquering planets for that ungrateful little freak, I came home to that. Just another bit of luck I should have come to expect. But hell, that really was the lowest point.

“You fool!” Frieza growled. “Can’t you see I am eating? Let me enjoy myself and come back later!”

“My apologizes, milord, but I have been gone for four months on assignment and I would like to get some rest,” I replied, trying to hold my tongue as best I could. “I thought you would want to know that I’ve cleared out all of the planets you requested.”

“You would like some rest?”

“Yes, milord.”

“Hmph! In that case, here!” Frieza said, throwing a datapad my way. On it was a list of planets that Frieza needed to be conquered and resold. There were dozens; more than I would have guessed he kept on reserve. Upon seeing them, I was confused. I didn’t know what he wanted me to do.

“Sire, do you want me to get all of these for you?”

Frieza looked up at me from the edge of a goblet with eyes that could have very well been readying an energy attack. Sure, I was back talking my superior, but I was tired. I needed some time off. I was driving myself insane by being constantly on call. And at the same time, Frieza was propositioning me with the idea of going out again for perhaps years to conquer all of those planets.

“You are a general, Glacial, are you not?”

“Yes sir,” I replied with pride.

“And you want to continue being my general, yes?”

“Of course, sire.”

“Then go get me those planets as fast as you can. If I hear another word from you, it’ll be your life. I don’t care if you’re my cousin or not.”

With that, Frieza slammed his goblet onto his table and bade me leave. I did so gladly. Had I stayed much longer, I’m pretty sure I would have attacked him. Regardless, I couldn’t afford to be mad at him. If I tried anything, he’d have me killed. So I gathered up several of my best soldiers and we set off for the nearest planet to conquer. The ride was uneventful; I slept through most of it. And the planet itself didn’t take more than a few hours to clear out. No use boring anybody with the details about that. But I didn’t bring my best soldiers to take out such a weak planet for the sole purpose of resale. I was there to discuss more important matters.

“How did he react?” I asked Cainus, who was my trusted associate.

“Killed them both, but not after hearing them through. I doubt he’ll let another one of those go through.”

“Good enough,” I responded. “We know security’s lax. It shouldn’t be too hard to get inside.”

But Cainus wasn’t satisfied. “General, don’t you think Cold will find it suspicious if you show up?”

“Why would he? I’m family.”

“Yeah, but after that recent event, I think you’re better off waiting,” he said in an attempt to dissuade me from treasonous thoughts.

“I’ve waited long enough. Look at us. We’re out here doing grunt-work. Frieza hasn’t given me any time off. It’s our lives that are wasting away because of his family. If we don’t take them out, we’ll die before we can catch our breaths.”

He didn’t argue with me after that. He couldn’t, really. We were all high-ranking, highly skilled soldiers. We should have been managing our armies on our planets by now. All of us higher-ups thought so. There were plenty of planets that Frieza kept that didn’t have anyone watching over them. Half of them were just depots or massive storage facilities. It was wasted potential. There was a general attitude running through all of us that was both unspoken and understood. We wanted out. Frieza, Cooler, King Cold – we wanted them dead. Now, we also knew we were no match for them on the battlefield, so that left us with few options of securing our freedoms. One such idea I came up with was poisoning (starting with King Cold, because he was the strongest of the three). I tested the king’s security by sending in a couple of decoy soldiers. I heard they got killed doing their operation, but hey, it’s for the greater good, right? But they weren’t searched and the poison they held was never found. Because no one was looking for it. Now I know I can safely get inside there with my own poison and put it into Cold’s wine.

Cold was one of those guys who liked to rule behind the scenes. Very few people knew he ever existed; I was one of them because I was his cousin. Additionally, it meant he kept a few small garrison of personal soldiers. They were really just maids and butlers, because there wasn’t anyone in the universe who could match his power. He didn’t need guards. But he still kept some, so I guess that had to do with ego.

After Cainus and I left that planet, we hooked up with some other potential usurpers to work out plan. I was going to go in alone and have a meal with Cold. In there, I would secretly pour the poison into his cup and wait for him to die. Now the problem with our plan was we didn’t have any immediate way to take out Frieza or Cooler. Cainus thought that Frieza and Cooler would probably go to war after finding their father dead, thinking each other killed him. I, for one, didn’t buy that. But I was still up for taking out Cold. Every little is a gain, right?

So we went to the next planet and I cleared out most of the native species before gathering up some rather colorful plants. I then mashed them together and liquefied them. Back on our home-planet, I’d learned that colorful things tended to be poisonous. I guess that’s why my skin’s a dull grey. Anyway, I was bloodkin, so I was trustworthy. Cold would never see it coming. I always thought that. Never once did I expect him to think anything.

After I gathered up the poison and tested it on several native beings, I was satisfied and prepared to leave. I told Cainus and the others to continue conquering the planets for Frieza so I could safely sneak away. I got in my pod and left for King Cold’s secret base. Knowing him, he wouldn’t be able to resist a meal with company, and one with plenty of wine would be a shoe-in. My only fear was that I wouldn’t be able to distract him or get him drunk enough so I could kill him. But I never feared for my own life.

Chapter III: Space Pirates
We landed on the planet around sunrise. I don’t remember the inhabitants of it too well – I remember it was a hot, humid hell-hole, but what the native populations looked like and whatever their tech level was, I couldn’t tell you. I guess I’ve been through so many of these missions that everything has blurred together. And on this mission in particular, it turned out the planet-clearing wasn’t all that important, anyway.

The Sergeant had ordered us to start eliminating all life as soon as our boots were on the ground. It was just a small troop of us – close to thirty or forty soldiers total. Out of all of us, only the Sergeant had a power level worth mentioning; and less than half of us could use energy attacks without the need of a blaster. I was one of those who was naturally-inclined, even if my own powers were nothing special. We cleared that place in no more than a few hours. With how many of us there were, we were able to shoot off massive amounts of homing attacks (they would seek out any organic life in the vicinity) to eradicate anything that moved. I think it was by around noon that our scouters were confirming a dead planet. No native power signatures, you know? The Sergeant seemed mighty pleased at that. Something about us being ahead of schedule, which was odd, because that was the only planet we were supposed to be clearing that day. But I was just happy we weren’t going to spend much time on that cesspit.

And then the space pirates showed up.

I’d seen their kind before. Those green-skinned aliens who can sense energy. They don’t need scouters, and I think they can talk to each other through telekinesis or something. But anyway, they all arrived in extra-solar spacecrafts. Each one was in a single-pilot vehicle. I don’t know how many there were – most of them never landed, instead just kept circling around over our heads, as if they were trying to intimidate us. A half-dozen of them did land, and they got out of their ships to come over and talk to the Sergeant.

“Who are you? What do you want?” my Sergeant asked them, ever cautiously.

“You serious, boss? You ain’t gotta clue? Why, we’re all the rage out here” one of them replied.

“Yeah, it looks like he don’t know us. Stupid little critter. Methinks he needs to be educated!” another chimed in.

My Sergeant didn’t bat an eye at their cockiness. He tried to stay professional when he spoke again, “I am on business of Lord Cooler. He owns this territory and now this planet. We have claimed it in his name.”

“I’m sure you have,” the first green alien said slyly. “But we’re claimin’ it too. What are you gonna do about it? Go runnin’ home to mommy? You won’t make it that far, I promise you that.”

“We are soldiers in the Planet Trade Organization. Should you impede our mission or attack us, you will face the full wrath of our armies!”

The space pirate laughed. “And where are those armies, huh? Where’s your Lord Cooler? Couldn’t make it? Or maybe he’s home sick. Either way, your empire is no help to you out here.”

“So that is how this is going to be then?” my Sergeant asked, gravely. I think he knew the answer before he asked the question.

“Yeah, boss. You got nice ships, nice armor, nice supplies. Hell, ya even got a pretty face. So as penalty for landing on our planet, you’ll have to give all of that up. Those will fetch a good price on the market! “

“Soldiers, form up behind me! Fall into line! Hurry!” my Sergeant barked fiercely.

Even as the pirates continued discussing everything they were going to take from us, I remember the Sergeant remaining cool and collected. He seemed to know that there wasn’t going to be a way out of this without it turning into a fight. We were all pretty scared. We had scouters; we could read the pirates’ power levels. They were higher than all of ours. Most of them were roughly equal with the Sergeant’s, and the one who had been talking so much had a power level even higher than that. I don’t think any of us expected to get out of there alive. But we followed our orders anyway. The Sergeant was our leader. We had to follow everything he said. That had been ingrained in our minds since we started boot camp. And I think most of the soldiers – me included – believed that as long as we followed his orders, we would get out of this alive.

“So you’re not going to sit back and let us kill you? We could make it painless, effortless. Resisting is just wasting time for both of us,” the pirate spoke, after seeing my Sergeant form up the soldiers. The confidence he exuded was terrifying to us.

“Soldiers! On my mark, concentrate fire on that green fool in the middle! Ready!”

The space pirate rolled his eyes and brought up a wrist-communicator to his mouth. “First squad, do a slant-run on our prey, over.”

Not an instant passed between him completing that sentence and all of us firing our energy and ki cannons at him. The Sergeant shot a barrage of energy, fully covering the space pirate in a wall of energy. But a moment later, the green alien burst from the smoke and fire and started shooting blasts of his own. These tore through our ranks so fast, I couldn’t even breathe before I saw half of the troop get wiped out. I tried to step up and aim at the space pirate again, but then the circling fighters above decided to join in, and a group of them did a bombing run right over our group. It blasted most of us to pieces. I was flung about 20 feet backwards, landing on a bunch of rocks. My leg was broken, and I think I bruised my lungs, but I was all right for the most part. All I saw around me was dirt and body parts.

I remember looking up, as the dust and screaming filled the air, to see the space pirate dueling with the Sergeant. Around them were the bodies of my fellow soldiers and a few of the space pirate’s underlings. But the fight between the two leaders was anything but equal. It took the pirate two punches to take control of the fight. With a third punch, he cracked the Sergeant’s ribcage, and with a fourth, he had crushed his neck. Seeing that, I got up and ran as fast and far as I could. I did not look back until I couldn’t feel my legs anymore and collapsed onto the ground once again. There was no one around me at that point.

I used my scouter to scan the planet for any signs of life. There were several dozen still, but none that I recognized. All of them were too high to be soldiers, so I figured they were space pirates. I sat in a dry mud hole for the remainder of the day, watching them with my scouter. I was sure they knew I was alive – as they could sense energy in their brains – but I’m not sure why they didn’t come and kill me at that point. Maybe they didn’t care, maybe they thought it was funny if they left me stranded here. Regardless, they were soon gone, and I was stuck on a planet that I had, hours before, destroyed all of the life on. To make matters worse, my scouter had been damaged in the battle. While I could still read power levels, my short-range and long-range communications were completely fried. I couldn’t do anything; I couldn’t call for help or escape.

That night I found a stream and slept on the rocks around it. In the morning, I drank some water and searched for any edible plants to eat. Funnily enough, there weren’t many plants on that desert planet. But after getting a small amount of food from the few weeds and shrubs I could find, I made my way back to our landing zone that next day, and I found the pirates had taken all of our supplies. All of our food and water stores were gone and all of our vehicles had either been taken or damaged so severely that they were useless. I saw a lot of dead bodies too, and I know I saw the poor Sergeant amongst them.

I was on that planet for two weeks before my scouters picked up another lifeform. In that time, I lost 30 pounds, nearly died of dehydration, and was constantly sick and overheated. It was absolute hell. A few times, I wished I had died in the battle instead of fleeing. What point was there in living, when it was only surviving in hopeless desolation? And I was too weak to even kill myself. I was so depressed, so lost. But after two weeks of this, my scouter did pick up several organic beings, and my hope returned to me at once.

I was able to track the power levels, even though they were coming from the atmosphere. Evidently, it was a battle, as I soon saw wreckages of spaceships falling like some kind of awful rain. I didn’t know who was fighting – or who was winning, for that matter – but it soon became clear that the space pirates I had met before were amongst the dead. I flew over to the crashes as soon as I saw them falling, hoping to find a usable ship to escape, but none of them had proved to be intact enough. Every one had a space pirate inside, burning and mangled amongst the twisted metal.

Before long, there was an entire graveyard of the pirates. There had to have been at least fifty of them. I didn’t see anyone else, no soldiers, no other factions. The dead were just a bunch of pirates. Soon after, I saw another ship descend into the planet. This ship had a being inside that was significantly stronger than any of the pirates. In fact, my scouter couldn’t even properly read his power level. But I didn’t care. Because as soon as he landed and his ship opened up to reveal him standing in his Planet Trade Organization armor, I felt instant and immeasurable relief. I can’t describe my joy at seeing General – well, no, he was a Captain at the time, I suppose – Digranite step off the ship and greet me. He had just single-handedly taken out the resident space pirates and reclaimed the planet for Lord Cooler. But most of all, he had found and saved me from the hell that was that planet. And for that, he has my eternal gratitude. I swear, he should have been promoted then and there for his actions. Hell, he could have been promoted half a dozen times for the stuff he did for all of us. I mean, everyone knows how he later went on to challenge the entire space pirate presence in Lord Cooler’s region as well, but I guess that’s a story for another time.

Chapter IV: Ice and Wine
I was seated just to the left of King Cold when the feast began. Luckily, he hadn’t invited anyone else of importance - no Frieza, no Cooler, not even my father. It was just me, him, and a bunch of attendants. A few guards lined the walls, but they did not concern me. I was faster than them. They would be no threat.

King Cold started the feast with a toast and a long gulp of his favorite variety of ice wine. I raised my cup with the others, but I did not drink with them. I had to keep a clear head. I needed to stay alert. Everyone else being drunk was my only advantage here. And I meant to keep it.

I took the small vial of poison out of my shirt and held it firmly in my palm. Glancing around, I noticed the din of the feasting aliens and the guards was growing louder and louder. They were laughing and conversing with one another, sharing stories and tales with a vivacity that only the alcohol could have brought forth. With them distracted, I knew it was time for me to kill the King of the universe.

I reached for Cold’s cup when the large tyrant grabbed me by the wrist. “Careful, General. That’s my cup you’re going for...”

“Oh, my apologies, sire,” I replied feebly.

“Don’t worry about it, nephew,” he replied, patting me hard on the back of the shoulder. I winced, but covered it up with a quick smile. “So what brings you here, Glacial? To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, hmmm?”

King Cold looked coolly down upon me. He was a giant, even sitting in his throne. The wine wasn’t seeming to affect him yet. His tolerance was higher than I anticipated. “Oh, it’s just been so long, Uncle,” I said in a soft voice. “I wanted to pay you a visit so you wouldn’t forget about me.”

That made King Cold laugh. He called for more wine, and a servant ran forward to pour him more of the cold purple liquid. I opened and closed my fingers. The vial in my palm was slicked with sweat. It was now or never. I reached forward for a piece of meat on one of the many platters and with the intent to knock over a pitcher of wine and distract everyone. Yet, it was at this time that King Cold did something I did not expect.

“Enough!” the cold king bellowed. At once, silence overtook the feast hall and the wine pourer scurried off. “What do you think, Glacial? How about some real entertainment?”

“Yes, milord,” I replied. I clutched the vial tightly. At this point, I was for anything that could distract him.

“Good, good,” Cold said, patting me once again on the shoulder. “Then we’ll have a fight!”

“A fight?”

“Yes, my nephew. It’s gotten so dreadfully dull here. I want something more interesting. Come, cup-bearer!”

A tall, muscular alien ran forward and knelt. I thought his armor was too ornate and his muscles too large for him to be a cup-bearer. “Sire, what do you require?”

“I want you to fight Glacial to the death.”

The fear was plain across the alien’s flat face. His courage was less than what I would have expected from such a fearsome-looking warrior. “M-milord, what do you mean?”

“I want you to fight Glacial. Win or die, I don’t care,” Cold said carelessly, taking another sip from his well-used cup. “What do you say, Glacial? Can you defeat my cup-bearer? I must admit, he was the captain of my guard until he spilled some wine on me. I demoted him for that, but don’t let that fool you. He’s a quick one. He’s a warrior at heart. But so are you, nephew. So will you end his pathetic existence for me?”

It would be a great dishonor to refuse King Cold anything. Fighting his former captain of the guard was not something I wanted to do. But it was something I had to. I slipped the vial back into my shirt and sighed. “Yes, sire. I’ll kill him for you.”

King Cold gave me the fiercest pat on the back then, and I let out an audible gasp of pain. Everyone cleared the table to watch the cup-bearer and me duel. Begrudgingly, I stood up and cracked my back, stretched my arms and legs, and adjusted my breathing for fighting. I was a General in Frieza’s army. I was no pushover. Sure, I wasn’t as strong as Cold or his sons, but I had to be more skilled than any other soldier in the Planet Trade Organization. I had to be. I had been trained since I was a child by the best tutors in the universe. I had been groomed by my father and my uncle. I would not be beaten by a mere cup-bearer.

As everyone cleared the table, I saw King Cold had left his cup where it stood. It dawned on me then that I could use this fight to my advantage. This fight would be my saving grace, my sure-fire way to kill the uncle I despised. It would be my last fight before I took the mantle of ruler of the universe.

The cup-bearer and I circled one another for several seconds, feeling each other out. Then, like an orange blur, he came rushing at me. I parried his blows effectively. With surgical precision, I caught his punches and kicks and threw him back. Though he was a former captain of the guard, he lacked finesse and intelligence. I launched myself at him, shattering his block and pummeling his soft, orange head. He swung wildly at me, but I jumped back deftly and then flipped forward, hitting him hard with my tail. He shuddered as purple blood trickled down his split lips. I afterimaged behind him, grabbing him by the back of the head and slamming his face into the marbled ground. He writhed like a slippery little devil, breaking free of my grip. Creating an explosive wave, he pushed me back. Then, he tried to hit me with an energy blast, but I rushed at him and knocked him off his feet before he could aim the thing. Wrapping my tail around his neck, I started to suffocate him. He tore into my tail with his teeth and nails, causing me to fall off of him. It hurt so bad when he bit my tail. I was angry then. I wanted to make him suffer.

The cup-bearer tried to sweep me off my feet, but I jumped up and then came down hard on his chest. I felt bones and organs break and push together as the alien coughed up his life-blood. I had him then. But it wasn’t over. I then created a large energy ball between my hands. The energy was blindingly white and as soon as I threw it at the cup-bearer, I used all my speed to teleport over to King Cold’s cup and pour the poison into it. As the blast exploded, white light shone throughout the pillared hall, blinding everyone. They could not have seen me. And as soon as the light faded back to reality, I had returned to my previous position - which was now over the corpse of King Cold’s former captain of the guard.

They applauded me, howling in raucous approval of my sweet victory. The servants and guards alike were bloodthirsty fools, delighting in death and pain whenever they could. King Cold, merely smiled at me weakly. He had always hidden his emotions rather well. I wondered if he would be able to do so as the poison was choking the life out of him. Probably not.

“Bravo, Glacial! Your father Arcterial has trained you well.”

I knelt before my king. “Thank you, sire. I hope I have honored you with my fight.”

He helped me up. “Oh, you have, nephew. That cup-bearer was annoying thorn in my side, I must confess. Seeing him dead brings me joy. Come, let us drink on it!”

My heart was in my ears, pounding. He was going to die now. He was going to take the poison. I needed to prepare myself. I could not act suspicious. I needed to be just as shocked and horrified as everyone else. If they found out I did it, I wasn’t sure that I could cut my way through the all of the guards. I was strong, yes, but against so many skilled warriors, I would succumb before long.

King Cold grabbed his cup of poisoned ice wine and raised it over his head. Everyone else, including me, did likewise.

“To Glacial!” he proclaimed.

“To Glacial!” his sycophants echoed fervently.

We all drank. I felt the wine pass my lips and shuddered as the warmness of fresh alcohol overtook my body. It was a sweet, relaxing feeling. I glanced up over my cup and noticed that King Cold was standing there staring at me. He hadn’t taken a drink. My anticipation, my anxiety was like a caged space lion in my chest. I had to get him to drink. I had to.

As calmly as I could, I said, “Sire, won’t you drink with us?”

King Cold looked at me for a moment and then poured the wine out on the table. As it hit the fine space mahogany wood, it started to burn caustically. “No,” the king then said. “I’ve lost my thirst.”

My heart sunk and terror gripped me. He had found me out. I was a dead Arcosian.