▸ Column · The Planet Trade Empire — a courtier writing in to Lord Frieza's advice column from a hovering imperial throne-world.
FRIEZA replies.
The letter
Lord Frieza — three cycles ago the officer I share quarters with began answering every question I put to him with "that is classified intelligence," growled in some absurd covert-operative voice. What rations he wants for the evening: classified. Whether he recalibrated the shuttle before the patrol sweep: classified. Whether he was injured after cracking his shin on a bulkhead hard enough to sit on the deck for two full minutes, weeping: still classified, delivered through the tears. The maddening part is his delivery keeps improving, and twice now I've cracked up when I badly needed to stay furious. I adore that he's funny. But we have a joint medical-bay appointment to move, and I need one straight answer about his availability on the sixth-day rotation before the slot is reassigned to someone else.
Frieza replies
Oh, how delightful. You've brought an emperor a hostage situation, and you haven't yet noticed that you are the hostage. Allow me to illuminate your little impasse. This officer of yours has stumbled onto a truth most beings never grasp in a lifetime: withholding is power. Every time you ask, you bow. Every time he declines, he sits — however briefly — upon a throne, and you, you generous thing, built him the throne by asking, and asking, and asking. And then — oh, this is the exquisite part — you laughed. You handed him the empire and applauded the gesture.
You imagine your trouble is the medical-bay slot. It is not. Your trouble is that you've mistaken being charmed for being in command. I never raise my voice, and I'd not advise you to raise yours; erupting merely certifies that one small gravelly voice can move the throne. So. Stop asking. Cease being the supplicant. Let the slot lapse, let the consequence settle precisely where his silence placed it, and observe how briskly "classified" declassifies the moment the cost is his to pay. Information flows to those who can make silence expensive. Do try to remember which direction that flows, dear.
— Frieza
Goku weighs in
Aw, Frieza, you did it again — you looked at two people havin' fun and saw a throne. She laughed, buddy! That's not losin', that's the best part. You think never crackin' a smile is winnin', and that's exactly why nobody volunteers anything to you either.
Listen, the guy's not an enemy, he's your sparrin' partner — a funny one. Don't let a slot lapse to teach a lesson, that's fightin' backwards. Just tell him straight: "Bit's great, keep it — but I need sixth-day, real answer, no voice." Then go eat somethin'. He'll give it to ya. People do, when you ask 'em honest instead of schemin'.
— Goku
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