Fan Fiction / Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Pride and Darkness ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N: This is a fic that Ember and I are working on together, spawned by two overactive imaginations, a couple of bickering muses, and an RPG. Though one of the characters has the same name as me, this is NOT a self-insertion.

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings and Dragon Ball Z do not belong to me, nor do they belong to Ember. *Sniffle* The trilogy is copyrighted to JRR Tolkien (the almighty) and DBZ is property of TOEI Animation and Akira Toriyama.

Prologue

Dark clouds rolled across the sky and the occasional flickers of lightning flashed along the mountainous horizon. In the fortress of Isengard, the monumental Orthanc tower jutted up into the clouds, sheets of rain splashing down its carved, black stone sides.

A little less than a decade ago, during the War of the Ring, the tower had housed the corrupt and deceitful wizard Saruman. Now it was the central meeting place for the council of remaining wizards in Middle Earth.

The top room was dimly lit by candles lining the walls, and heavy red curtains over the arrow-slit windows kept out the rain. The only furniture was a large circular table, and the floor was made of slick black marble. Four elderly men gathered around the table, their faces grave and doleful.

"The winds have changed again," Gared the Blue murmured. His bushy gray eyebrows pinched together in worry as he stared down at the tabletop.

"What do you mean?" Regon the Red asked, "I feel nothing."

"That's because you are thoughtless and distracted, Regon. The change is as plain as the rain outside," Eroth the Brown growled. "You do not pay any mind to the matters of the world."

"At least I am not a meddler!" Regon retorted hotly. "You can't keep your nose out of the kingdoms!"

"Brothers, do not quarrel," Terran the Green said softly. "We are here to discuss, not argue. What is the problem that you fear, Gared?"

"Mordor is stirring again," he answered. "The evil isn't completely dead."

"What if she has emerged?" Eroth mused, dread shining in his blue eyes. "What if she's finally ready?"

"She? Who?" Regon asked, irritated.

"The Shadow Child, the Lady of Fire…" Terran replied. He ran a trembling, gnarled hand over his snowy hair. "The Princess of Mordor."

Regon gaped for a moment, then swallowed. "I have no recollection of Sauron having an heir."

"It is not known by many. He created a being of his own likeness to carry on if something befell him. During the War of the Ring, she commanded a large part of Sauron's armies, though away from the rest of the world. She's since been kept deep in the fortress of Barad-dur, growing, learning, and gathering her strength," Gared explained. "Now I fear that she has taken human form and is plotting to raise the Dark Lord's power."

"She has not the strength for it, even now," Eroth pointed out. "Only the One was capable of such magic."

The room was silent for a moment except for the distant rumbling of thunder. Then Terran spoke up hesitantly.

"There is one way she could accomplish the resurrection."

The others looked at him inquisitively, and he continued.

"If she found someone of equal or greater power than her own willing to assist her, they could combine forces and raise Sauron without much difficulty."

"But since the Elves have left for the Havens, no one in Middle Earth has that kind of power. Not even all of us combined," Regon said. He glanced around the table for agreement to his comment. He got none.

"Perhaps…this disturbance is the princess preparing a Gateway…" Gared muttered, half to himself.

"She's going to another realm to find the power she needs," Terran stated.

Regon stood up suddenly. "We have to stop her. If we don't the world is doomed."

"Wait," Eroth pulled Regon back into his seat, "she's leaving Middle Earth, correct?"

The wizards nodded slowly.

"If the Gateway is closed while she is in another realm, she cannot return. Ever."

"So we allow her to leave and seal the path," Gared reasoned.

"Resulting in her eternal banishment from Middle Earth!" Eroth exclaimed. "That's the answer to keeping our world free from the Darkness forever!"

"But we will be killing another realm with her evil if we do that," Terran said. "No one deserves that torture."

Gared sighed and rubbed his temples. "What other choice do we have? As Regon said, we are not as powerful as she is, even combined. We cannot defeat her, no one in Middle Earth can. We must seal her in another world or die when Sauron is raised."

The council was once again quiet. They had little time to decide; the princess was arranging a gateway, and once she was through it, there was no turning back.

Eroth stood suddenly and walked across the room. He picked up his staff, which had been leaning against the far wall and turned to look at the others.

"I am going to attempt to block her re-entrance, with or without anyone else's assistance. Are you, my brothers, going to help me or not?"

The council exchanged glances, then one by one they stood and grabbed their staves.

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In the blackness of sheer infinity, a solitary spacecraft cruised dauntingly past the light of a thousand stars. It added the only perspective to such an eternal background, as the sun of the solar system it traversed, lit up the metal bulkheads in eerie magnificence. Outside this flat, circular vessel, an electrical nebula passed without much concern to the thousands of crew within its metal bulkheads… the beauty and wonder of such an environment, being the last thing to cross the mind of the tyrant who commanded it.

"Foot soldier! Give me a report on Venaria five!"

"My lord, this sector is now almost entirely secured! We have several thousand ships on patrol around its perimeter, and it should be completely under your control by the end of the next universal time-cycle!"

Black fingernails curled neatly around a chiseled wine glass, the deep red contents spinning with the momentum of the hand that controlled it, "And what of the rebels?"

The young strategist looked up to the face of his ruler, trying to gulp down the bile that had risen to his throat, "Their numbers, and rate of resistance have been greatly reduced my lord, the majority have fled this sector to settle on a small planet in the western quadrant."

"Excellent! So our troops followed them there and destroyed them before they had a chance to regroup, yes?"

Sweat poured in profusion down the foot soldiers pale features "Sire, they did not. They thought it would be wisest to keep the rebels movements under close observation whilst they asked for your assistance. The planet they retreated to is controlled by the Shinari-jin. They have vast fuel reserves there, and trade with several of the large industrial colonies. It would be suicide attacking them head on, their power levels have increased dramatically over the last few years, and they have formed alliances all over the free universe. Now they have joined forces with the Shinari-jin they have technology far in advance of our own. They pose a very serious threat to our troops on the frontline, who have not the manpower capable to defeat them. I have been sent a request by General Fleon for the Ginyu Force's immediate assistance."

The pristine wine glass was no longer being delectably swilled, instead strong fingers contracted angrily around its smoothed surface. Succumbing to the crushing embrace, the glass splintered and cracked, before shattering into a cascade of refracted light.

Every technician in the room cringed at the sound, but they did not turn to look. Instead they carried on their work with greater diligence, not wanting to risk being caught in the throes of a megalomaniacs temper tantrum. The unfortunate messenger, however, was not so lucky. He was frozen to the spot under the evil spell of two ice-jin eyes. He could feel the life draining from his body even before the effeminate creature got to his feet. Fleeting thoughts of trying to flee, of pleading his case, or screaming at the top of his voice flared into being, but he knew all too well that it would be pointless.

He closed his eyes, preparing his body for the worst, as visions of his family raced in quick succession through his mind. He desperately gulped down the tears that were threatening to overthrow his composure. His wife! His beautiful, loving, doting wife, and their children… he would never see them again, never. Alamir… such a bright child, so smart and handsome, with such a promising future… Sotia, the perfect baby, so content and happy within herself, always the light of his life, and now what would become of them, what would they do without his protection? If he were killed by Frieza then his family name would be dirt. Anyone associated with him would be hunted down and killed. Only his enrolment into the folds of this maniac's army had secured their freedom the last time. Now they were as good as dead, and it was all his fault.

Five minutes passed quietly by, and within that time the poor messenger had relived every single moment of his life, thinking of how things should have played out differently. Somewhere in the back of his mind, however, something clicked into place as he realized that he was still alive. Nervously his eyes opened a crack, curious to see what had prolonged his fate, his hearing picking up the shrill laughs of insanity as they emanated from the Ice-jin's chest and echoed around the large room.

Frieza was no longer in front of him, but had made his way over to the observation window to stare out into the void commonly known as space. "So, they wish for the Ginyu Force do they? Too bad… Captain Ginyu and his soldiers are already busy on the other side of sector four. It would be weeks before they could reach Shinari space. Tell me, who do we have that is in a closer proximity? Is their anyone within that area who could perform such a task?"

Thanking whichever god was looking over him that day, foot soldier 5261A, otherwise known as Kali, snapped out of the trouser-wetting predicament he seemed faced with only a few moments ago, "Lord Vegeta, Nappa, and Raditz are around that area, but the odds of even them being able to bring down such a well guarded planet are, at best, slim. Zarbon and Dadoria are on transport to Clashir, they could be there within the next two cycles if you so desired it my lord. Shall I issue the order?"

Frieza ran a hand across his jaw, deep in thought, "Two cycles is longer than we can afford, and besides," his laughter returned, "Vegeta needs to be taken care of. His disobedience will no longer be tolerated. How long before he can get there?"

"He could be at the frontline in little more than five hours, sir."

"Perfect! Get our favorite little monkey prince on screen so I can give him the necessary orders."

"As you wish, my lord!" Kali headed to the communications console to punch in the appropriate subspace transmission frequencies, glad to still be breathing.

The main view screen blinked into life. A soft red glow fading rapidly, as Vegeta's face clouded into focus, "What do you want?"

"Now, now Vegeta, that is no way to address your master!"

"My apologies lord Frieza, I did not realize it was you."

"What is your status?"

"We have agreed a trade negotiation with the Marelions. They are shipping their Diamferate stores to you as we speak. Do I have permission to blast that disgusting planet to pieces the minute the shipments are safely en-route?"

"Permission denied. You have more pressing matters to attend to. Your services are required in the western quadrant, the coordinates are being sent to you."

Vegeta's teeth gritted in disgust, "If this is another negotiations mission I'll…"

"You'll what…? Calm down monkey, this is a purging mission, nothing but the best for my proud little Saiyan no Ouji. I want the entire occupants of this planet destroyed. The planet itself, however, must stay in tact. You have your orders. I expect them to be carried out, or I will be having much more than just words with you and the other Saiyan's when you return!"

"Others?" the words swam sickeningly around Vegeta's head, "I think I can handle one little purging mission, it is unnecessary to bring Nappa and Raditz into this. I will leave them here, and go by myself. I do not need their assistance."

Frieza closed his eyes, and let a his head drop to a solitary nod, "As you wish!"

Not another word was interchanged and the screen flickered out of life.

"Lord Frieza you cannot possibly consent to his going alone. He will never survive it!" Kali placed his hands over his mouth, silently cursing himself for speaking out.

"You dare to doubt my judgment?"

"I… that is… no"

Kali said no more. His pupils retracted to pinpricks as his knees gave out on him, and he crashed to the floor, the last breath that would ever leave his lungs, crushed out of him by the impact.

Smirking in delight, Frieza inspected the bloody hand that was extracted from deep inside the young soldier's chest, "Too late."

He turned to the nearest breathing Soldier, "Clean this mess up."

Chuckling menacingly to himself the Ice-jin congratulated his actions to himself. It was the perfect excuse. Vegeta would secure his own demise leaving Nappa and Raditz as loyal to him as ever. It was a pity really, if only Vegeta hadn't started to get so strong, then he wouldn't have been forced to do this, but letting Vegeta live was too dangerous now. It was better this way.

He had spent many days recently studying the Saiyans movements, concentrating on his energy through the scouter. His training sessions were brutal, not so much as his own, but still enough to give him very real concern. At one point the monkeys power had risen to almost over fifty thousand, and although it paled in comparison to his own it was getting too close to other members of his elite fighters for comfort. He couldn't risk the chance of a rebellion, not yet, and if anyone were going to be able to start such an undertaking it would be Vegeta.

Despite all the ingenious ways he had found to try and break the monkey in, (and they had been very painful and numerous,) Vegeta had never been a hundred percent under his control. There was a deep underlying hatred that he could sense as clearly as the fear the foot soldier had displayed before. Yes this was the right thing to do. Vegeta could easily take out most of the planet's inhabitants. Only the rebels would be able to put up a defense. The rebel elites were second only to the Ginyu force in sheer power. Vegeta wouldn't stand a chance against them, and once his death had been confirmed then he would go himself to finish the pests off.

"Helmsman! Set a course for Shinari space. I wish to witness Vegeta's demise, first hand."

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