Meanwhile.
Turles appeared once again in the familiar command room.
But unlike before, the atmosphere in the command room was more businesslike this time.
Turles stopped before Frieza and bowed his head slightly.
"Lord Frieza."
"Mr. Turles, you're just in time."
Frieza tapped a finger lightly against the armrest.
"I called you here today because I have something for you to do."
Turles's back stiffened slightly.
It was finally coming!
There was no avoiding what had to come!
"I am at your command whenever you need me."
Frieza leaned back in his chair, settling into a more comfortable position.
"Mr. Turles, you've been with the force for some time now."
His tone relaxed, returning to its usual cheerfulness.
"As for your day-to-day performance, I've been very pleased with you in every respect."
"So I think it's time to give you an opportunity to make an official contribution to the force."
The tip of Frieza's tail curled up and hung in the air for a moment.
"This assignment is rather special."
"It's an A-rank promotion mission."
"Once you've completed it, Mr. Turles, you can be promoted directly from B-rank to A-rank."
A-rank.
Turles quickly reviewed the force's ranking system as Zarbon had described it.
An A-rank post meant independent command authority, higher supply quotas, broader access to information, and permission to access database ports locked behind red-level restrictions.
The coordinates of Earth and Planet Namek could both be hidden in there.
Zarbon had also said that promotion to A-rank required at least one military achievement personally approved by Frieza on record.
Frieza's "generosity" never came for free. A promotion mission he personally arranged could never be easy.
Frieza watched Turles's reaction and tilted his head.
"What's the matter? Aren't you ready yet?"
"I'm overwhelmed by the honor." Turles lowered his head, his tone steady.
"It is an honor to have your recognition, Lord Frieza."
"Ho ho ho-"
Frieza chuckled.
"You're too modest, Mr. Turles. With your combat power, promotion to A-rank is no problem at all. But the force's rules were established back in the days of the King Cold Force, and even I can't simply bypass them."
After that brief explanation, Frieza raised his chin and looked at Zarbon.
Zarbon understood and stepped halfway forward.
He swiped twice across the data terminal, and the holographic projection changed.
The densely packed star-sector data and military deployment maps vanished.
In their place was a planet.
The three-dimensional image slowly rotated in the center of the command room.
It was a blue-green sphere, its surface covered by vast expanses of land and ocean.
Its atmosphere was clear, and its cloud bands stretched wide, revealing the bands of city lights across the planet's surface.
This was no barren planet.
Zarbon spoke.
"Planet Karen."
"Located in the fourth sector of the North Galaxy, coordinates N-4-2271."
"A civilized planet in the early stages of interstellar development, with a unified planetary government and a complete planetary defense system."
Zarbon adjusted his glasses.
"Population: over three billion."
Turles's expression did not change.
Over three billion people.
A planetary defense system.
An interstellar fleet.
Zarbon's voice continued to echo through the command room.
"Planet Karen became a target because a client submitted a purchase request through the force's commercial channels."
The holographic projection changed. A business file appeared, its exact figures redacted, but the number of digits visible alone was staggering.
"The offer was exceptionally high."
Zarbon lowered the terminal to his side.
"But Planet Karen's government refused all negotiations."
Turles glanced over the business file.
I see.
Under the universe's rules of commerce, if a planet's native government refused to sell, the transaction could not pass the Galactic Patrol's review.
The legal route was blocked.
So this "client" needed the Frieza Force's help.
Help with what?
Simple.
Once the natives were gone, the planet would be unclaimed.
The transfer of an unclaimed planet required no native government's signature.
Once the legal procedures were complete and the money came in, the deal was done.
The Saiyans used to do this kind of dirty work.
They were essentially an outsourced dirty-work division.
Frieza watched Turles's reaction and smiled.
"Of course~ a little matter like this wouldn't normally be worth my personal attention."
The tip of his tail tapped the armrest.
"This client is an important partner of our force. I promised to send our finest people to handle it."
"Of course, a difficult assignment like this won't be left entirely on your shoulders, Mr. Turles."
He raised a finger and wagged it in the air.
"The Heeters Group will be primarily responsible for the plan this time. They're also a longtime partner of the Frieza Force. You only need to cooperate with their arrangements as appropriate, Mr. Turles."
The Heeters Group.
Turles was shaken.
As he recalled from his previous life.
The Heeters Group seemed to be an organization from a later arc.
Although he hadn't seen the actual story, he had heard of them.
I didn't expect to cross paths with them so soon, did I?
"I trust you won't disappoint me, Mr. Turles?"
Frieza had sent him off with those same words the last time he left the command room.
Turles responded as he always did.
"Rest assured, Lord Frieza."
"Leave this to me. I will see it through properly."
The tip of Frieza's tail settled back on the armrest.
"Ho ho ho-"
He chuckled, his signature elegant smile returning.
"Very good. I'm counting on you, Mr. Turles."
He waved a hand at Zarbon.
"Mr. Zarbon will explain the details of the mission and the arrangements for coordinating with the Heeters Group to you later."
Zarbon nodded.
"Understood."
The scene shifted to the depths of space.
A large spaceship was traveling at high speed through the sea of stars.
The paint and lines of its hull made it look like an entirely different ship from before.
Its streamlined hull was dark gray, with the Frieza Force's standard dark purple stripes and the force's insignia painted on the side.
Turles.
Turles had renamed it himself.
He hadn't wanted to keep using the name Destroyer for a single day longer.
When the force's logistics department learned that Turles wouldn't be using the standard single-person spherical spaceship, the officer handling the matter had visibly paused.
Those small spherical ships had been standard Frieza Force equipment since King Cold's days.
Space was compressed to the limit and speed optimized to the extreme. You boarded, went to sleep, and woke up at your destination.
Standard equipment for elite warriors.
They hadn't expected a warrior as powerful as Turles to reject one.
Then again, a large spaceship did have its advantages.
Training space, supplies, tactical deployment: on long-duration missions, those things mattered far more than a few hours' difference in travel time.
The Frieza Force hadn't placed any obstacles in his way.
Turles had his own crew and his own ship, and he could carry out missions in whatever way suited him, as long as he delivered results.
In that respect, Frieza really was a good boss.
Besides, Reiz and the Lakasei brothers hadn't been idle lately.
Using the resources and technology supplied by the Frieza Force, they had overhauled the ship from the inside out.
The propulsion system had been replaced with the force's latest model of engine, while the shield generator, communications module, and navigation system had all been upgraded to the force's current operational standards.