Turles reclined in his hover pod, his face carrying a small grin as he observed the scene before him. The subdued Namekians, young and old alike, were corralled in front of him like helpless sheep ready for the slaughterhouse. The sight of their terror and helplessness didn’t bring some sort of twisted satisfaction to Turles. It was the sight of his future soldiers that caused his heart of pure evil to rejoice at the sight he was seeing.
The air was thick with an aura of fear, a palpable tension that clung to the atmosphere like a malevolent fog. It was a mixture of past traumas and present horrors, an amalgamation of the Namekians' collective memories of Frieza's tyranny and the gut-wrenching realization that another tyrant had come to claim everything that they lived for. The fear was a scent, a taste in the air that seeped into their very bones, freezing them in place.
Turles's ears crackled with whimpers of desperate whispers, panicked cries, and the subdued sobs of those who understood that their fate was no longer in their hands. The children trembled with wide-eyed terror, their innocent minds struggling to process the magnitude of the nightmare before them. The adults, survivors of a genocidal past, were haunted by the specter of their own history repeating itself. Among the captives, Turles could discern the mixture of emotions – the searing anger at their own vulnerability, the impotent rage against his ruthless invasion, and the crushing weight of despair that had settled upon them like a suffocating cloak. But most prevalent was the terror, a raw, primal fear that pulsated through the crowd, a constant reminder that they were at the mercy of a merciless tyrant.
As Turles's gaze swept over the Namekians, he couldn't help but notice the significant number of children among them. Their mere presence spoke of a desperate bid for survival, a race to replenish their dwindled population after the horrors they had endured. The innocence in their eyes stood in stark contrast to the cruel reality they now faced – a reality where their lives were mere pawns in the hands of an intergalactic conqueror.
"Begin the execution of the adults," Turles's command sliced through the air with the icy precision of a blade. His words were devoid of empathy, a chilling proclamation of death pronounced without a hint of remorse or hesitation.
Sadistic grins adorned the faces of his soldiers as they heard his words. It reminded them of their time under Lord Frieza, where slaughter and terrorizing were the norm. Some of the more bloodthirsty soldiers began to think that maybe Lord Turles wouldn’t be such a bad replacement for Lord Frieza after all, even if he was a mutant of a saiyan.
The massacre of the Namekians began as Turles lifted all of the children into the air with psychic power to avoid any mishaps from overeager soldiers lost in their bloodlust. Blasters, lasers, and explosions engulfed the surrounded Namekians. As screams of the slaughtered mixed with the laughter of the slaughterers, Turles called out a certain person on his scouter.
“Toomel. I have need of your services.” Turles relayed over his scouter.
“Yes, Lord Turles!” A husky feminine voice replied promptly.
From the spaceship, Toomel embodied the natural beauty inherent to her race, characterized by their ethereal features and striking blue skin. Her skin tone was a lustrous shade of cobalt that radiated an otherworldly glow in the right light. Her long, flowing hair was a cascade of deep midnight blue, often tied back with a simple azure ribbon that contrasted elegantly against her skin. Toomel possessed a graceful yet voluptuous figure, her physique a balance between beauty and elegance. Her most distinctive feature is her ample bust, a trait that she seems to take utmost pride in aside from her normal beauty. Her curves were alluringly exaggerated, seamlessly integrated into her overall form. Her movements possess a captivating flow that accentuates her charm, seemingly seeking to gather all attention on herself.
Her wardrobe often consisted of gowns and dresses made from fabrics that mirrored the colors of the cosmos – deep blues, shimmering silvers, and velvety blacks. She wore delicate jewelry with intricate designs, often inlaid with gemstones that mirrored the colors of her skin.
The children cried out in horror at the slaughter of the adults who raised, taught, fed, and cared for them. High-pitched shrill wails excluded from the little green slugs as their caretakers screamed and shouted while putting up a final stand. Just like before, the Namekians wouldn’t die willingly, especially with the children out of the way. They could go all out without any fear of harm coming to the children.
It was an admirable last stand. Their fierce faces twisted with rage, defiance, and a hint of hopelessness. After all, the last time they faced the Frieza Force, they were wiped out to the last man. And unfortunately for the Namekians, all of them could tell that this time would be no different. Except, their legacy would be taken and enslaved by their murderers.
Turles was even targeted by more than a few Namekians. He was just sitting inside his hover pod. To the eyes of others, he must look like an easy target to assassinate. Several beams of light headed toward his face during the killing of the adult Namekians. It was a commendable attempt, at least. If you’re going to die, wouldn’t it be great to do some damage to the man in charge of your execution? Sadly for the Namekians, Turles was far out of their league. He absorbed their energy blasts and only grew a tiny bit stronger because of their attempts to lash out at him with their final breaths.
When the order was completed as per Turles’s instructions, Turles brought the children back down to the ground after reducing the corpses to nothingness. “Toomel.” Turles sent the member of Zarbon’s race toward the children.
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She smiled as the children seized up in fear, seeing her head toward them. The entire Turles Force got to watch the female soldier use her naturally honed talent. A talent cultivated by Turles for the sole purpose of subjugating rebellious planets in a less wasteful manner. Toomel was one of the soldiers who attempted to join the Turles Force during tryouts but gave up because she couldn’t bear the difficult test.
Toomel started a captivating dance performance. The sounds of New Namek’s natural ecosystem worked as her music. The enrapture was a gradual process. Turles could see her energy taking form as her body began to light up like a star. As her hips swayed, her bosom bounced, and her body twirled, energy shot out from her figure.
Multiple sources of ki homed in on the heads of everyone watching. Turles didn’t avoid the fast energy beam that went inside his head. He could feel how his feelings toward Toomel were changing by the second. Which made Turles realize that her technique worked differently from how he thought it did. With a brief surge of ki throughout his body, he eliminated Toomel’s influence on him
He watched as Toomel began to bewitch the young Namekians with her words after influencing their emotions and minds. She whispered to them about the greatness of the Planet Trade Organization, shifting their thoughts of the slaughter to something more beneficial to the entirety of the force, and essentially brainwashing them into loyal members of the Planet Trade Organization.
Turles wasn’t aware of the exact intricacies of how Toomel’s technique worked but only expected that it worked well enough for the young Namekians to become standard members of the Planet Trade Organizations. He’ll keep his eye out on the children over the years. It wouldn’t do well with all of these potential wish orb makers to be secretly plotting a rebellion with the power of a magic dragon to ruin everything he’s built.
If a single Namekian’s dragon balls have enough power to empower some random alien into becoming strong enough to overpower Ultra Instinct Kakarot and Ultra Ego Vegeta, that was more than enough of a reason to keep a watchful eye out for every single Namekian here.
“Oh, that reminds me…” Turles muttered to himself. “Set a course to Planet Cereal,” Turles commanded over his scouter to the engineers inside the ship.
“What should we do with them now, Lord Turles?” Toomel asked, her long eyelashes fluttering.
“Your technique didn’t work on me, if you’re wondering, but I believe we can better hone your talents later to fix those faults,” Turles informed her.
“Will I be in one piece by the end of it…?” She softly asked as her body shook in terror.
The memories of the recruitment test from a decade ago still stood fresh in her mind. Despite her years in the Frieza Force, there hasn’t been a moment where she has been so thoroughly defeated mentally, physically, and emotionally. It was suffering, pure and simple. Toomel was not a lady who could handle so much abuse and stand up afterward with a smile on her face like Commander Mepple and Commander Appule. She wasn’t afraid to admit they were superior to her. After all, they actually made it into the Crusher Force.
“It depends if you’ve gotten any stronger since the last time we’ve met.” Turles ended the conversation there as he ordered the soldiers to head inside.
Turles exited his hover pod and stood over the bewildered Namekians, who were still trying to come to terms with what was happening. He gave them a single command. A single command that would be most beneficial to him and prevent any incidents from arising. A command that didn’t give any thought to the feelings of the Namekians.
“Fuse until there are only two of you. One warrior-type and one from the Dragon Clan.” Turles looked down at them as he allowed his overwhelming ki to press down on their bodies.
It took a few moments as the threat of a very visible and violent death hung over their heads. But eventually, there were only two Namekian children remaining looking up at Turles. “Do you have names, or shall I name you?” Turles asked.
“My name is Dende.” The magical one looked down while twiddling his fingers.
“My name is Cargo.” The warrior one bowed as his body shook.
“Dende, Cargo. You’ll be following me around for some time. Do your best to learn from me and ask questions when you are confused. You’ll be worthless to me if you don’t seek to better yourselves.” Turles’s voice was neither loud nor quiet. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Cargo promptly replied.
“No...” Dende replied a short second later.
“Dende, elaborate on what has confused you about what I said.” Turles turned to the boy.
“What do you mean by seek to better myself?” He asked, still avoiding eye contact with Turles.
“Aim to become better than the person you were yesterday, every day. It doesn’t have to be in significant ways or anything noticeable for others to point out. You just need to confidently feel that you are better than the person you were yesterday, in some way.” Turles explained. “Do I need to explain it in a different way, or do you understand?”
“I-I understand, Lord Turles…” Dende nervously nodded their head up and down rapidly.
“Let’s go.” Turles led the way as they entered the ship. He had many plans in store for the Namekians.
…
Above New Namek, his beautiful lover could be seen sticking out of the planet, draining it of its life force. In Turles’s hand was a single fruit. As he took a bite of that fruit, something unusual happened. A qualitative change that caught Turles by surprise as he felt his power growing. Nowadays, these fruits barely increased his power to a significant degree on account of eating so many of them over the years. However, there was something different happening right now.
Turles was forced to concentrate on a large amount of energy surging throughout his body. A black and crimson red aura formed around his body. He clenched his fists and stabilized his lower body as he tried to control the overwhelming power flowing out of his body. If he didn’t get control over this power, the entire ship was going to tear apart just from his energy!
Turles cried out with an authoritative tone as his height grew and his body mass swelled. His hair was not spared either, as it began to forcibly lengthen past his neck, spine, and even knees! If anyone saw him now, they’d believe he was imitating Raditz’s hairstyle! With a roar befitting that of a majestic Oozaru, Turles claimed dominance over his new transformation.
“It appears I’ve finally become an Evil Saiyan…” Turles began to chuckle before slowly transitioning into a full-blown maniacal laugh.